"Well, you found one. Congrats."

"I'd like to trade information. Ideally form a working relationship of some kind."

"You new?"

"Yes. I got my magic recently. I've fought one angel, but haven't hit my stride fully."

"Well, you did one thing right. Smite-y bastards."

"How long have you had magic?"

"Few years. Spend my days busting slave caravans, mostly, so don't get around to too much angel-slaying. They give less than no shits about humans being assholes to each other."

"A worthy endeavor. Do you want help?"

"...Sure. What's in it for you?"

"I agree with your cause, and have found myself largely adrift, anyways."

"Close enough, I guess. Just - do what I say."

"I'll acknowledge your expertise on raids. But I'm not going to blindly follow you."

"So you do have some sense, then."

"A little. Do you want to practice together, before we try any raids?"

"Yeah. No reason not to, really. Need to know if you can keep up."

"I'm ready when you are, then."

She sets her things aside and jumps down. "Come on. There's a clearing we can beat up this way."

Sira follows.

"Your lead. I've not sparred before."

She nods, falling into a loose stance. "Try not to do any major damage. Pull blows if you have to. When we're still getting to know each other... It's best to go slow, and telegraph everything."

"Right."

And: sparring! Sira is fast, hits hard and sharp, and she's clever, learning quickly despite a previous lack of experience in fighting.

Teaching someone's a drag but Sira's not as bad a student as most. Jessin doesn't slow down to explain anything.

Sira keeps up.

"You're good," Jessin says when they're done.

"Good enough to join you?"

"Yeah. I'll teach you my routine, make up some signals."