From The Other Side

Chapter Seven

"So, now that the elephant in the room has been addressed, what do we do with this information?" I asked.

"First things first, you're coming to my house. Second things second, we're keeping that book inside a safe. Third things third, you learn to fight." 

I swear, Sierra must've been the bluntest person I'd ever met. 

"In the words of that angel, in the show, you "teenagers" seem to enjoy, I am a celestial being, and I can hear you." She remarked, "This might feel weird"

She grabbed our hands

The world around us spun slightly, then quicker, and quicker until the outdoors were the indoors, and my surroundings looked like that of a treehouse.

"Ah, home sweet home, much less pollution, much more sunlight, no more murderous siblings, paradise..." She trailed off.

A body fell to the floor, and I looked down, only to see Mari muttering something under her breath. I assumed she had fainted from whatever Sierra had just done, which I assumed to be interdimensional teleportation, considering the sky had no hole. Oh, and it was the middle of the goddamn night, which would have indicated at LEAST a twelve-hour time difference, despite the room being incredibly well lit.

"Is she alright?" 

 Sierra chuckled.

"Yeah, just give her five minutes, happens to the best of us."

The house was dead silent. 

"You're wondering where we are, aren't you?" I nodded.

"Well, this is my hideaway or my house, in your terms. Despite what you'd assume, we royals don't always live in castles. I mean, I live in an actual treehouse, plumbing, electric, all of it." 

She seemed proud of the house, and may I say, it was amazing. Natural vines engrossed in wood, greens, browns, natural colors. It rivaled the aesthetic of her sister, bright and cheery versus dark, evil, almost.

Everything here looked straight out of Peter Pan. I had to admit, I was awestruck. Sierra even changed with this place, glowing like Edward Cullen in the moon's light, which I could only assume was because she was a celestial warrior. She did not give me warrior vibes. 

Even the glass of water she handed me was well decorated. Take that, HGTV.

"What, you impressed yet?" 

I continued to stare.

"Yeah, you could say that," I remarked, "You're, you know, sparkling, just so you know," 

"I'm fully aware of that, and my hair being down to my ass, and the robe, and the vines for boots and gloves."

Her humor is amazing, or dare I say godly.

I heard a string of Spanish insults and swearing from the other room.

Mari's up, then.

She was as astounded as I was, eyes practically lighting up.

"Now that all parties are fully conscious, let's discuss the gameplan. First and foremost, I have your book, it's locked in my safe. Second of all, CATCH!" 

In the moments I was almost decapitated I thought three things.

Holy fuck that's a real broadsword;

Holy fuck it might cut open my head;

and duck if you value your life.

My eyes shut, bracing for impact.

"Congratulations, you two both can't take a joke!" Sierra laughed, "What exactly makes you think that I'm going to throw a metal object at you? We're starting with wooden and foam ones since you probably can't hold a pencil correctly."

Blunt savagery. Those two words summed up Sierra.

We followed her into a dojo-like room, covered in pads, floor to ceiling. She looked, as if to say, grab one, try it.

I grabbed a brown, wooden broadsword from her rack, which for a pacifist was pretty big.

Little by little, she taught us stances, parries, attacks, offense, defense, you name it, into the night, with us struggling to hold the sword right, and sweating worse than we would during pacer.

"I think that's enough basics for today," She said, wiping sweat from her brows.

If that's just the basics then I might pass out tomorrow, because Mari and I were like puddles on the floor or muscle and bone.

She gave me another look, as to say, "it gets worse". 

What can you expect from a military leader who's spent her whole life doing this, anyway?

She managed to pull us both off the ground and onto her back, which made me feel like a small child again, having to be carried. She dropped Mari and me into the spare bedroom, (which I didn't know she needed, along with a dojo, because she led people, yet she didn't train them),  and turned off the light.

"Night you two, trust me, get some damn sleep, you'll need it,"

And with that, I managed to get a whole 8 hours of sleep with no interruptions, nor did any annoying demon siblings try to torture me for information I didn't have.

I woke up to the poking of Sierra's finger to my cheek.

"Could you not?" I asked in a groggy haze.

"Sure, grumpypottamas."

Of all the human slang she learned, she chose to use grumypottomas, of all things.

She then proceeded to shove a paper in my face, outlined in a grid.

3 hours per day, Swordsmanship

3 hours per day, Magic 101

1 hour per day, history 

30 min break.

The fuck is this? 

" A schedule."

Right. She's a mind reader.

That went on for three days. 

In those three days I learned:

Never trust world-ruling bitches by the name of Raegan.

Magic can and will blow up in the face of the unskilled.

Swords are heavy.

Gems and Crystals inbedded in swords actually do something.

Demons are hard to kill.

North Dakota wasn't a state until 2011 (Completely unrelated, but I learned it)

Sierra is 5"4 yet leads an army rivaling every nation on Earth's power.

And I now can create somewhat glowing orbs from my hand.

Woe is me.

It's now the fourth day I've been here, and Sierra says she's taking us to spar tomorrow, with an actual member of Angel's cross, and that after that, we have to meet her parents, which is going to be awkward.

Wish me luck, I'm going to fucking need it.

------------

Aye, chapter 7.

Mostly filler, but explains a bit more about fighting in Sierra's homeland, and just how important Vi's book will be.

Anywho, the character questions still remains open, and if you have a question for me or a character, just comment it!

I'll see you next chapter!