I was flat on my back, the world was spinning, and I had forgotten how to breathe. I focused on the only thing within view, a blinding white light above me, and tried to remember how I'd gotten there.

This sort of thing happens more often than you'd think.

I remembered someone grabbing my forearm, flipping me over, and slamming me on the ground so hard I nearly bit my tongue, knocking the wind out of me. Okay, good. Who else was there? Had I been stupid enough to go into a situation like this alone? Was the person to body-slammed me still there? Where were they?

A hazy memory swam into view, and the white light came into focus. It was a light fixture with a cage on the underside of the shade, hanging from the rafters of a martial arts dojo-specifically, the one Karrin used for sparring. She'd invited me to practice with her, and stupid me, I accepted.

Bear in mind, I'm six foot nine and she's five foot nothing. I knew that she knew more martial arts than I could count, and frequently sparred with people taller than her. So what made me think I could use my superior height against her? Hubris, I suppose.

Karrin's head came into view, upside-down and silhouetted in the light of the hanging lamp. She was smirking.

"Half a second," she said. "That is officially the shortest sparring match I've ever had."

"Thanks," I groaned, accepting her hand up.

"Now," she said, her hands on her hips, "What have you learned about trying to straight-arm my forehead?"

I rolled my eyes. "Don't."

"See?" She grinned, cuffing my shoulder playfully. "Wizards really are smart."

Technically this was true. The trouble was, we don't get always the best ideas.

End