Hopefully for the last time, I returned to the slums. My first destination was the alcove where I had stashed the swords I had taken from the marines. The alley stank but the weapons remained untouched behind the loose brick in the wall. I wrapped them in a scrap of blanket I had brought for this purpose and loaded them onto the handcart.

  Once back at my new home, I stashed them in the corner of the the cellar. Swords of any sort weren't cheap and they would drain my resources. These two would serve me well enough for now.

  With the empty cart, I headed to the market. The afternoon crowd had thinned, making it easier to navigate between stalls. I picked up six oil lamps and a barrel of lamp oil that should last me a decent while. Next came empty sacks and planks of different thicknesses, along with a saw, hammer, and a pouch of iron nails.

  My final stop was Mei Shulan's forge. The smell of hot metal and coal greeted me before I even stepped through the door.

  "Back so soon?" She looked up from her work, her good eye appraising me. "Not even you could have broken that dagger."

  "The dagger's great. I'm after throwing knives today."

  Her hammer clanged against the anvil one last time before she set it down and crossed her arms. "Are you now? And do you know how to use them, or are you just looking to cut your own fingers off?"

  "If I was going to cut anything off I certainly wouldn't bother with the blunt junk you sell around here."

  Shulan's mouth twitched. "Prove it." She gestured to a wooden target at the back of her shop, marked with concentric rings.

  I took the knife she offered, testing its weight and balance. I threw. The blade spun erratically and hit the outer ring with a dull thud as it barely pierced the wood. Gods. That was awful. The spirit was willing but the flesh was weak.

  "Hmm." Shulan arched an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement in her eye. "Better than most first-timers."

  I bit back a retort and scowled at the target. In my previous life, I could have hit the center blindfolded. "Again."

  Each of the next three throws continued my lesson in humility as they all landed in the outer ring. A far cry from the effortless skill I once possessed and a painful reminder of my current limitations.

  "You know enough." Shulan gave me an approving nod. "But you need practice."

  She wasn't wrong.

  I looked at her range and selected a set of six perfectly balanced throwing knives, along with a leather bandolier, a boot sheath, and a back holster. They were quality items. The woman knew her trade.

  Shulan gave me an approving nod. "A good eye. These will serve you well. Twenty silver all in."

  I grimaced. "That's a fair price for most, but a little rich for my blood."

  She studied me a moment. "Well, seeing as it's you, I can go as low as twenty-one silver."

  I looked at her. She looked at me.

  "Twenty silver is great," I said eventually.

  She gave me a smile and slapped me on the back. "I thought it would be. And promise you won't waste good steel by throwing them at anything but targets until you improve."

  I nodded, counting out the coins. "Deal."

  Before I headed off I hid the throwing knives beneath the sacks and lumber in my handcart, careful to arrange everything so nothing suspicious peeked out.

  Instead of going straight home, I veered toward the shoreline where the tide was on its way back in, but there was still a strip of dry, coarse sand. Perfect. I filled the empty sacks and hefted each one to test its weight before tying it closed. Sand would make ideal training weights, adjustable, practical, and most importantly, cheap.

  By the time I had filled all six sacks, I was sweaty despite the cool breeze coming off the water. It was extraordinary how annoying these little mortal weaknesses could be even if I was starting to get used to them. The cart and I groaned under the weight as I pushed it back home, and I could feel my meridians humming as Waves Take Down a Cliff drew in the ki.

  "Need a hand?" A dock worker called out to me as I struggled up an incline.

  "Thanks. I've got it," I grunted, pushing harder. The struggle would only strengthen me faster.

  At the house, I unloaded everything into the cellar and I was finally ready for the next step. I took in a deep breath of earth and old wine then set to work driving nails into the wooden support beams and hanging oil lamps. The soft yellow glow revealed the full dimensions of my new training space. Now I could see it properly, it was possibly a little smaller than I would have wanted, but it would do.

  Moving on, I constructed three wooden dummies from the lumber, securing them firmly to a wide base I built on the floor. One for sword practice, one for knife work, and one for unarmed combat. Each dummy I wrapped in the rest of the sacks to simulate clothing and flesh.

  Against the far wall, I erected my target range, setting up concentric circles painted on wooden boards. The marine swords I mounted on a simple rack I built from scrap wood, while I hammered a nail into a pillar in order to hang my knives.

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  The most challenging part was the balance apparatus. I secured four poles into the ground, stretching rope between them at varying heights and tensions. Some taut enough to walk across, others slack to train different balance skills. In my previous life, everyone on my ships could dance across ropes during a typhoon. This body would learn to do the same.

  I stepped back, surveying my work with satisfaction. It was small but it has everything I needed. A proper training ground, hidden from the prying eyes of both thieves and Imperials.

  The last lamp went on a hook above the target and the training space was complete. Dinner with Sarei, Kaelen and Yanzi wasn't for another hour at least. Time to test it out.

  I walked to the sword rack, running my fingers along the blades. I missed Tidebreaker, the sword that I had by my side for the last 400 years, but he was a one off, and a friend as much as a weapon. It would be wrong to compare any other blade to him. These marine's swords were serviceable, nothing more, but they would do. I hefted one to test its weight.

  My arm wavered as I extended it forward. Too heavy for the muscles of this weak body.

  "Pathetic," I muttered, attempting a basic cut.

  The blade traced a shaky arc, lacking power and precision. Where once I could carve a raindrop into patterns before it hit the ground, now I struggled with the simplest forms. My muscles burned after just a few swings.

  I sighed and lowered the blade. If the best time to start training was seven hundred years ago, the second best time was today.

  Widening my stance, I planted my feet firmly on the packed earth floor, and began to go through the motions for Anchor Point Guard, the basic sword form that we started the new Tide Ensigns on at the academy. Slow, deliberate movements. The foundation upon which everything else would be built.

  * * *

  It must have been a hour later when the creak of hinges and footsteps overhead broke my concentration. I managed to stop the sword from falling from my trembling fingers and placed it on the rack. Sweat poured down my face and my shirt stuck to my back. That had been hard, but tomorrow I would be able to do a little more, and even more the day after. That's how this worked.

  I wiped my brow, put the sword back on the rack, and climbed the stairs, to find Yanzi struggling with a large sack of coal. His small frame bent nearly double under the weight.

  "Put it down before you break something," I said, taking the sack from him.

  "I carried it all the way here!" Yanzi protested, but the relief on his face was obvious as he went back out for the food he had bought.

  Behind him stood Sarei, her expression unreadable as she took in the house. Her gaze traveled from the windows to the fresh rushes on the floor, lingering on our old cooking pot looking out of place by the hearth.

  "What is this place?" she asked, her voice tight.

  "What do you think?" I asked, gesturing around. "It's not much, but it's ours now."

  Sarei's face tightened. "Where did you get the money for this, Taros?"

  I gave her the same story I had given Kaelen. "A friend from the docks owed me a favor. He couldn't use the lease anymore and…"

  "Stop." Sarei held up her hand. "Just stop. I've heard enough of your stories over the years."

  She gestured at the space around us. "This is too much, Taros. All of this, the house, the food, the clothes."

  I opened my mouth but Sarei cut me off.

  "If you had money, this kind of money, why are you wasting it like this? Why didn't you put it toward our debt?"

  "Debt?" The word slipped out before I could catch it.

  Something in my expression must have betrayed my confusion because Sarei's eyes widened slightly. She stared at me as if seeing something for the first time.

  "Are you just that oblivious or do you really not know?" She sighed, the fight draining from her. "Why should you? Maybe you were just too young. Why do you think, even with Kaelen and me working full time, we barely have enough to eat? Why do you think we live, lived, in that tiny room?"

  I remained silent, searching through the fragments of this body's memories. Nothing about debt surfaced, just flashes of alcohol, fights, and shame.

  In truth, I had simply thought this was what poverty looked like in this realm. The cramped living quarters, the constant struggle for food, the lack of basic necessities. I hadn't questioned it.

  "I just assumed..." I began, then stopped.

  Sarei's eyes softened slightly, although the disappointment remained. "Of course you did. The moneylenders come every month, Taros." Her voice cracked and tears sprung up in her eyes. "It's up to three silver fangs a month."

  I took Sarei by the hand and sat her at the table. Yanzi had come back in while she was talking and he wordlessly poured her a cup of water.

  "Tell me what I don't know."

  Sarei's eyes grew distant as she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper as she spoke without looking at us.

  "When Father lost his legs, everything changed. The captain was drunk, couldn't even stand straight at the helm. Father fell between the boat and dock during unloading." Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the cup before her. "Lord Shuilin owned, owns, that boat. His agent, Ren Yun, came to us, all sympathy and promises. Said we should visit this particular money lender, Yin Chi, that he'd take care of us. Looking back it seems likely that either the agent, or even the lord, was getting a kickback from Yin Chi, but how could we have guessed that?"

  I sat silent, absorbing this history that belonged to a life I hadn't lived.

  "Father couldn't read. Didn't understand what he was putting his mark to." Sarei's voice hardened. "Yin Chi, that slimy, filthy leech, knew exactly what he was doing. By the time we realized what it meant, the debt had grown like a vicious tumor."

  She took a shuddering breath. "Mama withered in front of our eyes. She wouldn't eat properly. Always said she wasn't hungry, but we knew. She was making sure there was food for us. Working as a washerwoman during the day, cleaning taverns at night. When the pneumonia hit that first winter..." Sarei's voice broke. "She was too weak to fight it."

  "I was only three," I murmured, piecing together the fragments of memory this body held.

  Sarei nodded. "You were so small. Kaelen was nine, I was twelve. We took on whatever work we could find. But Father..." She looked away and the tears dropped freely from her eyes. "He couldn't bear it. Blamed himself for everything."

  Her voice dropped even lower. "A month later I came home one day to find you crying, trying to wake him. He was still sitting in his chair, cold already. The remanants of herbs he had taken were scattered on the floor."

  The image flashed in my mind. Small hands pushing against a still chest, my tears falling on an unresponsive face. A memory not truly mine, yet I felt its echo in my gut.

  "Even then, Yin Chi wouldn't release us." Sarei's face hardened. "Said children inherit family debts. His only 'kindness' was allowing interest to accumulate for a few years until I was old enough to work properly."

  She laughed bitterly. "By the time we could pay, the debt had tripled. Everything we earn beyond what keeps us alive goes to him. Three silver fangs, every single month. It's been going on for fifteen years."

  She lapsed into silence and I couldn't speak. I did the calculation quickly. The amount that Sarei and Kaelen had paid out was staggering.

  At some point during Sarei's story I had clenched my fists to stop them trembling. My nails cut into my palms and I welcomed the sting.

  This injustice would not stand.