That night, I collapsed into bed before the sun had fully set, too exhausted even to eat the dinner Zane had prepared.

My last thought before unconsciousness claimed me was that if this was day one of training, I might not survive to day two.

I did survive.

Day two brought more staff work, more sensing exercises, a new torture Zane called reflex training.

Which involved him throwing rocks at me while I tried to dodge.

By day three, I could track his movements for twenty minutes before my head started pounding.

By day five, I landed three hits during our morning sparring session.

Small victories. Tiny progress.

Progress nonetheless....