[Flashback/Training] Bladework

[Siiri]

57th of Fall, 501 AV

She woke up just before the break of dawn, the usual time she did when on active duty. Today was different however; it was her first day off from duty ever since she joined the army a moon cycle ago. Most of her bunkmates were already up and about, probably already in their daily run, though a few who also had the day off still slumbered in their beds. Training for new recruits was grueling; the others were probably taking advantage of the break to rest their weary minds and muscles.

She loved it though.

She loved the pure physical stress she went through everyday as the drill sergeants grilled her and the other neophytes on weapons training, unarmed combat, and conditioning. She loved the lessons on tactics and warfare. She loved lectures on the psychology of the enemy: Dhani, Charodae, humans – anyone who dared tread upon the lands claimed by Myri, really. She loved everything because she knew that it prepared her for every eventuality, it gave her the foreknowledge to react to any situation she might find herself in.

But most of all, she loved it because it kept her mind off from the past, and the possibilities of the future.

Possibilities? she groused, her mood momentarily turning sour. More like inevitablities.

She shook her head, putting the thought aside as she put on her combat gear. Sword in hand, she left the barracks for a light workout. The training grounds was immediately outside; it was empty and would probably remain so until the first rays of Syna's fiery orb peeked over from the eastern wall when the trainees returned from their circuit around the outside of the city walls. She made her way to the usual spot where she practiced bladework but noticed a small lone figure by the wrestling mats. The figure was sitting on the ground, knees hugged close to the chest. It had its back turned against her and did not see her approach.

“Janna?” she asked. “You're up early. What are you doing here?”

The girl turned to her voice. Even in the dim light, she could see her red-rimmed eyes. The girl had obviously been crying.

“Oh, hey Siiri,” the girl sniffed. She had a slight lisp, a speech impediment she's had since childhood. The young woman remembered the girl being berated by their mother often for it when she was younger. “Tala mentioned it's your day off today. I thought I'd visit you since...well...since you said you're never going back home.”

The young woman, Siiri, could only smile awkwardly at her sister. She did not leave the Snapping Jaws clan home in quite a cordial manner, to say the least. She dusted the ground and sat down beside her sister.

“It's a little early for this to just be a social visit,” she commented. “Anything wrong?”

Janna mumbled something about her lessons being stupid and about the kids her age being a whole lot stupider. The girl swiped at her eyes, uttering a frustrated sound as she willed herself to not appear weak in front of her older sister by crying. Siiri thought she understood. At twelve years old, her sister was rather short for her age; she hasn't gone through her growth spurt yet. She assumed Janna was being picked on by her peers because of this. She was probably also having a hard time with her lessons in weapons because of her size. Typically, Myrian children would already have graduated from wooden weapons at that age. The additional weight of the dense bones they used to fashion their weapons must have been taxing for the undersized girl.

“I think I know what you're going through,” Siiri said emphatically. “Would you believe I used to get beaten up when I was younger?”

Janna looked at her incredulously, her troubles momentarily forgotten. “You? You can beat anyone in a fist fight!”

Siiri smiled, flattered by her sister's belief in her. “It's true. I used to pick fights with those kids teasing Tala for always tripping when she walked without her cane. They were bigger and stronger than me. I had to practice and practice so that when I told them to shut up, I could make them if they didn't.” Janna giggled and Siiri was glad she could distract her sister from her gloomy thoughts. “I think that's all you need, to do better with your lessons, don't you think?”

Siiri drew her greatsword, Slayer, from its sheathe. The metal weapon almost seemed to glow in the pale dawn light. She offered the hilt to Janna, whose eyes widened at the gesture. Siiri had never allowed anyone to touch the weapon ever since she received it upon their aunt's death. “Go on,” she nudged the girl. Janna tentatively took the greatsword, awkwardly holding up the huge weapon. It was longer than the girl was tall. Siiri herself was only several inches taller than it.

“This is heavy! How do you ever swing this in battle?”

“Practice,” Siiri deadpanned. “Come on, I'll go through a couple of passes you, then I'll show you how to build strength to handle heavier weapons.”

As she guided her sister in the proper form of holding the huge weapon, Siiri recalled her own tutelage under her aunt.

[Siiri]

1st of Spring, 495 AV “Spread your feet apart just wide enough to align them with your shoulders. Bend your knees slightly – you need to keep yourself balanced to counteract the weight of the sword. There, good form... now hold the weapon properly: right hand over left. Keep the blade between you and the enemy at all times if you're not attacking.” It was Siiri's tenth year, and though she did not turn that age for a couple of seasons yet, her aunt had deemed her ready to handle Slayer. Shara had promised to teach the girl herself and the woman made good with her word at the turn of the year. It was morning on the first day of spring and they stood in the garden in front of the Snapping Jaws clan home, their only spectators the hornbills and the pet dogs of the clan. Banni, Siiri's riamm, balanced its fluffy self on a nearby fence, cooing softly. Siiri stood in the middle of the garden, holding Shara's greatsword unsteadily with both hands. In the absence of her usual weapon, the woman wielded two wicked-looking long swords, their edges serrated. She circled her niece, taking in Siiri's stance and form as the girl kept Slayer between them. Occasionally, when she felt that the heavy blade of the greatsword dipped too low she would hit the blade with one of her weapons. “Blade too heavy?” she asked the girl. Siiri's only response was to press her lips tight into a straight line and steadied her grip on the sword. Shara had to laugh. “You're a stubborn girl, you know that? Come on, swing at me.” Siiri did so, heaving the massive weapon back as she's seem her aunt to countless of times to cleave downwards with all her might. There was a momentary pause in her movement as the weight of the greatsword unbalanced her then she sent to crashing down at Shara. The woman deftly caught it in a cross block and, with a sudden shift, guided the tangled weapons to her side so that the momentum of the attack did not bleed into her own swords. “Not bad, using your weight to add more force to the swing. But you have to understand that your enemy will not stand idly by to give you an opportunity for such an attack. Until you build enough strength to use that thing with speed and accuracy, the most you can do is go on the defensive and pray your enemy makes a mistake to grant you an opening for a strike of your own. Now block me.” Shara suited words with action, stabbing her swords alternately at her niece with precision, albeit in a slow and controlled manner, allowing the girl to become comfortable with the weight of her own weapon. Siiri deflected each attack cleanly, shifting her grip on the greatsword as she turned aside her aunt's blades. Impressed, Shara switched to slashes, still maintaining her pace but injecting a small amount of force behind her blows. She tried a few simple passes and routines and, when Siiri blocked them all, used a few more complex moves that have confounded many an experienced swordsman. Her niece still blocked them all despite her arms shaking whenever Shara's blades connected on hers. “Very good. But I think we need to put more strength in your arms.”

[Siiri]

“I think we need to put more strength in your arms,” Siiri concluded as her sister almost dropped Slayer in the last move she performed. The girl was obviously having trouble with the weight of the weapon, the blade's tip dipping often when she held it before her. As a result, her slashes were slow and cumbersome, her point of attack off by several inches from her intended mark. She plopped down on the ground, exhausted after but a few minutes with the huge sword.

“I miss my spear,” Janna gasped. “Why can’t I just focus on spear training? A spear is still a weapon. And it’s lighter. Much lighter.”

“Every warrior knows how to use the spear,” Siiri chided. It was time to take on the ‘big sister voice’ and teach her sister about some lessons in life. “Every warrior also knows how limited it is. Sure, it has longer range than some weapons, but your point of attack with it is limited to the spearhead. That’s why we learn the use of as many weapons as we can and then specialize later on. Some take it to extreme though. I mean, have you seen Zhevris’ scythe? It’s huge! It’s awkward though. Even if she’s real good with it, I think I can beat her with Slayer with just a few more years of training.”

“You just don’t trust anything with a handle longer than the blade!”

Siiri made a face. “That’s because you can’t kill anything with a handle unless you choke them with it! You’re not going to beat your first kill in the wilds with a stick are you? You’ll attract every predator within half a mile radius from your victim’s screams alone.” Her sister laughed at the image her comment elicited. “Have you ever thought what weapon you want to master?”

“Not really, no,” Janna replied, shaking her head. “But they are making us try out all the different weapons. Tala said I’m good with two weapons – one in each hand I mean. She’s been watching my lessons.”

Siiri pondered what the girl said. She felt a brief pang of guilt as she realized that she had lesser time to spend with her sisters, especially the younger ones. Too pragmatic to be caught up in the sentiment, she shook the thought away and instead focused on how to keep herself part of their lives. Janna came to her now for help and she wasn’t about to disappoint her.

“Two weapons, huh? Same length or long and short?” she asked, referring to the two more common styles used in dual wielding. Using weapons of the same length and type meant that a warrior only had to master one particular weapon while training both hands to sue them independently. Dual wielding two weapons of different lengths and types required much more skill but the tradeoff was that they were much harder to deal with in combat because of their unpredictability due to the dual wielder being able to employ a wider range of attack styles.

“Same lengths. I like scimitars over swords though. I think they, ah... they're more 'multidimensional in a fight', as the instructor would say. Whatever that means,” Janna added, rolling her eyes. “I just like how they work on angles compared to swords.”

“Really? Show me.”

Siiri went to a nearby bin and fetched two scimitars fashioned from the tusks of Tskannas. They were practice weapons and had seen better days but they were serviceable. She handed both weapons to Janna, hilts first. The girl tested their weight and found them to her liking. A grin blossomed from her lips.

“You're in for the beating of your life, Siiri,” Janna joked.

Siiri laughed with her, picking up Slayer from the ground. She swung it around a couple of times to warm up her muscles. The greatsword danced in her capable hands as if it were a part of her. Holding the blade steady before her, she raised an eyebrow at her sister in mock challenge.

“Stop talking and show me what you got then!”

Both grinned at each other foolishly, savoring the moment of sisterly bond between them.

And then they were upon each other.

[Siiri]

Siiri fell on her rump as she blocked her aunt's last attack. The blow came too fast for her to follow and it was only by luck that she had Slayer angled just right to intercept it. She stared up at Shara in stunned disbelief. “Where did that come from?” she asked. Shara laughed good-naturedly at the look on her niece's face. The woman offered a hand to the girl and pulled her up. Removing her left bracer, she showed Siiri her forearm. The graceful lines of a Gnosis mark reflected back into the eyes of the young girl. “Myri's mark,” Shara said as way of explanation. “It allows me to strike faster, and more accurately. You will get one of your own in your coming of age trials. So grow up quick!” She tweaked the girl's nose playfully. Siiri gazed at the mark in awe. Myri's own mark...The Goddess-Queen truly did gift those faithful to her. “How effective is it?” “Well, we could spar all day and you will only get nicked by my swords if and when I decide to.” There was no boasting in her aunt's voice, it was all said matter-of-factly. Battle was a way of life for the Myrians, and shows of physical prowess that other races would have found daunting came as natural to them as breathing. “Do you want to keep practicing?” The girl nodded, determination in her eyes. “Yes. I want to be just as good as you when I get older, Da'Shara.” She gave her aunt a toothy grin. “If not better.” Shara laughed again “You better be, Siiri. You better be. Now let's work on building those muscles of yours. Won't the kids be surprised in your weapons class the next time you spar with them and you choose the bigger weapons? Hold Slayer up with one hand and ...”

[Siiri]

“...try to keep it that way while I hit it with my daggers.”

Janna let out an exaggerated sigh. “What's the purpose of this again?” She still kept her grip on the sword despite her show of exasperation.

The girl had made a case at being more adept at using light weapons in their sparring match earlier, using intricate combinations and lightning fast strikes in an attempt to overwhelm her older sister but with her experience and the advantage of having Myri’s mark Siiri was able to block all her attacks easily. The older daughter of the Snapping Jaws matriarch thought her sister’s fighting style was a little too flamboyant and, with its wide sweeps and flourishes, required a large space to work effectively, but she could not deny the girl’s skill. She’d make a most excellent swordswoman with a few more years of training.

If she learned to stop cutting corners that is.

“It’s to build arm strength until you get your mark. And even then, conditioning your muscles to withstand constant strain will help you develop your endurance for long fights. Any edge you can gain, you must make…” Siiri trailed off when she noticed her sister giggling at her. “What?”

“Do you know you sound like Mother with your nagging?” Janna giggled harder as her comment made her sister turn beet-red.

"I – I do not nag! And… and…” Siiri flustered. She cuffed Janna lightly on the back of the head. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly. “Anyway, as I was saying before I was interrupted, you should take any advantage you can get. Everything outside the city walls will, and if you want to survive your encounter with any of them, you should – no you must - do the same. Now hold up the sword.”

They worked in silence for the next few minutes, the only sound between them the dull ringing from Slayer as Siiri attacked the greatsword with her dagger. Janna held onto the hilt of the weapon with all her might as her sister repeatedly struck the blade with more than a little gusto. Occasionally, the girl would peer surreptitiously at her older sibling to see if she had struck a nerve. True enough, despite the almost passive expression on Siiri’s face, a slight frown had knotted her brows.

“I was only kidding,” Janna said meekly as she did her best to keep Slayer between her and her sister – no easy feat considering she was doing it one-handed.

Siiri only nodded once but continued her barrage, an endless stream of swings and sweeps that seemed to flow from one move to the other. The constant pressure forced Janna to keep switching the hand that held the weapon every few minutes. Eventually, Siiri slowed her onslaught to a few half-hearted strikes until at last she sheathed her dagger on her hip. Janna immediately dropped the greatsword, her arms shaking from the strain. Both were sweating profusely, but Siiri hardly seemed winded.

“Just keep practicing like that everyday, and you’ll do fine in weapons training. Have someone batter you down until you’re both worn. You’ll progress faster with a partner,” Siiri advised. She picked up Slayer and wiped the blade clean of dust. The blade remained undamaged despite the many blows she rained upon it.

Bent over, hands on her knees and gasping for air, Janna nodded. She waited until she caught Siiri’s eye before saying, ]“I’m sorry I compared you to Mother, Siiri. It was just a joke.”

“I know. It’s just… it’s a sore point Janna.”

“Won’t you tell me what it’s all about?”

Siiri shook her head. It had always been hard to make her talk when she didn’t want to. “Better you didn’t know. It’s between me and Mother.”

“And Tala,” Janna added. “We’re not blind, Siiri. Even if you adults don’t tell us anything.”

Siiri gazed at her sister and grimaced. Their clan seemed to be in such a mess lately. She moved towards the girl, drew her in. “I know, Jan. I’m sorry. You’ll find out when you get older I guess. Anyway, you have to go now, this place is going to get busy in a few minutes when the other warriors get back from their run.”

“All right, Siiri. Can I still come to you on your off days?”

The young woman smiled at her sister then, erasing any last traces of the frown that marred her features earlier. “Sure, Jan.”

Siiri watched as her sister ran off due west, towards the direction of their clan home. She thought of what had just transpired between them, as well as her tutelage under her aunt Shara so many years past. She fancied she was walking in the footsteps left behind by that great woman, the same woman who taught her the way of the blade. Would she would be doing the same for her sister? There were so many similarities between then and now, yet they were still fundamental differences.

Shara coated her lessons with fun and games, never revealing her intentions but whoever she taught came away learning something from the experience. Meanwhile Siiri…she wasn’t yet sure about her teaching style. She preferred action over words, that was for sure, explaining the knowledge or skill she imparted only after the exercise of it was completed.

Only one thing was constant.

Siiri regarded Slayer, remembering the first time her aunt showed her the magnificent weapon as well as recalling all the times she used it in battle or practice ever since she inherited it. The blade was made of polished metal, so unlike the more common weapons of the other warriors which were made from bone. Its edge was still as keen as it had been all those years ago, testament to the care she has given it.

The young woman recalled that the greatsword sang in Shara’s hands.

In her own hands, Slayer thundered.

[Cayenne]

I always love reading about Siiri's interactions with her family. You can really sense the tension - while mothers love their children, they expect so much of them, even if they're not entirely ready for it, and throw them in at the deep end so that it becomes sink or swim. But with the sizes of Myrian families and generations living together under one roof, not to mention the strong passions and emotions, arguments never stay between two people. You've captured this well, and it's a great read. I hereby award the following: Bodybuilding: 1 XP Greatsword: 3 XP Dagger: 1 XP