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A few flicks of the wand had another ribbon of water forming that Taly lifted back over her head. Her eyes were trained on the center dummy. It was unglamoured, a rough-hewn figure crafted from reinforced sylvanwood wrapped in leather and bound with steel bands at the joints.

“First, you throw.” She let her arm drop. “Then follow through.” And as that torrent of roiling potential energy was unleashed, she moved with it.

It was an easy motion. She didn’t have to think. Her body knew exactly what to do.

Another sharp crack echoed through the room. And when it was done, Aimee was left gaping at the dummy rattling on its pole. Across its torso, showing through a rip in the enchanted leather, a gouge at least three inches deep bit into resilient sylvanwood beneath.

Taly grimaced.Oops…She scratched her head with the tip of the wand. “It, uh… used to take a lot moreheftto get the dummy to move. I’ll have to remember. Anyways. Your turn,” she chirped.

Aimee tore her eyes away and gave a slight nod. “Okay,” she said, mimicking Taly’s stance. Water stretched between her palms, and she kept her elbow locked, raising her arm straight overhead. And when she brought it down, stepping through with the motion—

Water splashed. The dummy didn’t even sway.

“I don’t understand,” Aimee said, crestfallen. “I didexactlywhat you did.”

“Yeah, except not really. You let your knees tense up and didn’t align your hips with your shoulders. It completely threw off your balance. Do it again. And this time, don’t hold your breath. Your breath is your rhythm. Follow it.”

Aimee hesitated, then squared up her feet to try again.

“Back foot staggered,” Taly said. “You need rotation, not a wall.”

Aimee exhaled, like she was praying for patience, and shifted her back foot a half-step. The whip formed in her hands. Her arm reared back.

Water splashed uselessly.

“No,” Taly said. “Your hips need to pivotwithyour swing.”

It took three more tries before Aimee managed to successfully keep her hips in line. Another three before she managed to feel out the timing for the snap of her wrist.

Morning stretched into the afternoon, and so did Taly’s patience.

She was ready to call it, already crafting her exit line—something gentle, maybe, about natural affinities and how splashing was a valid skill set.

Then the whip cracked like a gunshot. Water curved clean through the air and slammed the dummy dead center.

Taly let out a whoop from where she’d been lounging on the stairs. “That’s it!”

But Aimee looked less than thrilled, her brow furrowed in frustration and disappointment. “I just thought… it would domore.”

The dummy stood dripping, perfectly intact. No flex, no tilt—the whip hadn’t generated enough force to overcome the resistance in the spring.

“Yeah… That was pretty weak.” Taly shrugged. “Oh well. Just keep practicing. You can only get better, not worse.”

And with that bit of wisdom imparted, she considered herself done—absolved of any and all drunken obligations and free to go on about her day.

She turned towards the stairs.

“Wait,” Aimee called after her. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say? You promised to help me.”

“I promised to you help you throw a water whip, which I have now done,” Taly said, continuing up the stairs. “Combat magic requires a basic level of strength and conditioning, and if I had to guess, I would say you’ve never lifted anything heavier than a teaspoon to verydelicatelystir your tea.” Aimee rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. “If you want to ruin that poor dummy’s day, lift heavy things. Get stronger. As Ivain likes to say, you can’t build if there’s no foundation.”

“So, help me build.”

Taly barked a laugh. “I’m not a trainer. There are plenty of books about strength building in the library.”

“But I don’t want to just be strong,” Aimee called up to her, “I want to know how to survive.”

Something about it, maybe her tone, the edge of desperation, made Taly pause.