Subtle Defense

With a new year, I’m reaching into the depths of my past and dusting off a couple of skills. With the first one, I can only make strides when I’m home alone, because the saxophone is not a quiet instrument and everyone in the house would prefer not to have its unique sound carry throughout and disturb them. Fortunately, that skill has some training that I’ll be able to build upon.

Meanwhile, when I grabbed my Nikon D300 from my closet, I realized I would need some classes to get the most out of the camera I purchased over a decade ago. While these skills might seem to have nothing to do with writing, I’m hoping to weave them into my narratives, so stay tuned.

Despite losing time as I forced to fit these skills into the mix, I’m please to bring the first story of 2023 to my patrons. Shortly after pulling the results, I tapped Taitha for this Fantasy, since I was tinkering with a micro-tale for her earlier this month. While that narrative focused on her living arrangement, I wanted to highlight the fallout from her initial class. Find a comfy chair and get comfortable as Taitha seeks to educate her pupils.

Having agreed to join her brother’s Academy, Taitha finished her initial lecture and asks her students if they needed more clarification…

Subtle Defense

“With my lecture complete, are there any gaps that you need me to fill?”

A student in the rear of the small classroom raised his hand as he inched to the edge of his seat. “The headmaster informed us that you would provide a more nuanced insight into our spell craft.”

“I can,” Taitha said as she leaned against her desk, “provided you listen.”

With a sharp inhalation, the young man slid back in his chair. “Then you might consider going beyond the basics of the most rudimentary spells.”

With Taitha’s lips curling into a broad smile, she walked between the other students and kneeled beside the objecting pupil. She ran a finger along her mouth as she tilted her head. “Are you suggesting that everything I touched upon is nothing more than a remedial waste of your time?”

“It was,” the student said, thrusting his face into hers.

A faint bubble of laughter emerged from the teacher’s lips as her slender hand forced the student’s back against his chair.




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