Even with Gideon storming out and the children fidgeting endlessly that first day of training, it turned out to be the easiest day of the last two weeks. The children were even more restless with Theo gone most of the day to the library, and Gideon took off into the woods every morning the moment I arrived. The others looked to him for guidance, and with his dismissive example, they were rude, unruly, and unresponsive.

I had given them the entire first weekend off. Perhaps I would be able to accomplish more with them under Theo's watchful gaze, but they were children, not the warriors Wamp had convinced them they were. They needed rest. And I needed to shake my obsession with the protective little omega who guarded them.

Theo was a quintessential rabbit. He was small, with light brown hair, and his nose twitched while he was thinking. But with the children he was as fierce as a bear protecting his cubs. He had a guardians' heart.

What would it have been like to have a protector like that when I had been young? The children seemed to recognize what a treasure they had in Theo.

I shook my head. I was as bad as the children. We were supposed to be meditating, and here I was dwelling on Theo. This was becoming a pattern lately.

Perhaps it was time to think of alternative methods of training. Now that my vision of the children was no longer blocked by Adam's shield, I had spent my evenings tracing paths of possible training methods. Meditation formed the backbone of all the successful paths, but I hadn't counted on the emotional wear it would have on me to try to convince them over and over again each day, as if I hadn't explained to them the day before, how beneficial it would be. 

I stood and stretched. The children opened their eyes to watch me.

"Are we done meditating?" Will asked. 

"Not quite, but we are going to try something different. I would like to demonstrate meditation in action for you, so that you have a more concrete idea of what our end goal is in practice. How many of you have gifts that can be used to attack?"

It was disconcerting how fast their hands went up.

"Attack me," I commanded.

They looked uncertainly at each other. I waited, closing my eyes, falling into an observational state. Their clothing rustled as they stood and encircled me, but I didn't focus on placing them. I just waited for the attack. Someone shifted suddenly, and I dodged backward as something zinged through the air where I had been. Then the pound of feet and the light breeze of displaced air as someone charged me. I sidestepped.

"You're cheating," Jared accused me. "You can see what we're doing before we do it."

I opened my eyes and shook my head. "No, I am listening to my environment. Your truth teller can verify that." I nodded to Caite. "Another demonstration. Bethany. Please come here."

Bethany stood and approached me cautiously.

"Does everyone know what Bethany's gift is? She can feel others’ emotions, but she can also give them. Bethany, can you make me feel scared?"

She nodded.

"Try."

I envisioned a stone cave around my mind, but with no opening. I held that image steadily, even as I sensed Bethany's mental force pressing against it. She grunted, and the pressure grew, but did not break my walls.

"I can't," she said, surprised and frustrated.

"My mind is strong, and I was able to build a wall to keep Bethany out. You can do this too. And for those of you like Bethany and Adam whose gifts are mental, empathy and shielding, you will learn to break through those walls. Meditation is as much a weapon as it is a defensive tool. The more control you have, the stronger you are. The more control you have, the less likely accidents will happen." My eyes went to Jet, and he nodded, his jaw set with determination.

"Let's begin again."

The children sat quickly this time, and as we began our session, there were no complaints. They still fidgeted, but they were still children. Any sign that Wamp hadn't burned their youthfulness out of them was a good sign.

We wrapped up early before Theo arrived home, but I felt as if I had finally made some progress with them. As I bid them good bye and said I would see them after the weekend, Bethany asked, "Are you coming to family dinner on Sunday?"

I looked at each child before answering. Some of them were reserved. Some of them were welcoming. None of them were antagonistic. I nodded. Bethany smiled, then after a moment's hesitation, sprang forward to wrap her arms around me, then scurried back just as quickly, waving good bye as she walked toward the house.

It took me a few minutes of walking into the forest, whistling, to realize that she had slipped past my defenses and imbued me with a sense of happiness. I hadn't felt truly happy in... well, a very long time. Content, yes. Even comfortable. But happy?

It had been a long time since someone had slipped past my defenses, but I couldn't be mad. Whether that was because I was happy I was happy, or that her happiness blocked any negative feeling, I wasn't sure. 

It felt nice to be happy.