"Perhaps you should do it quickly, instead of gloating..."
The Myrian just blinked in something akin to shock. A slip of a girl who'd probably never swung a sword in her life, and if her knee had kept moving a few more inches, he'd b throwing up his lunch. He slowly lowered her to the ground and as he moved back... he shook his head, grin spread over his face.
"Good advice."
They spent a few more moments getting their breath back and breathing the fire out of their lungs. The rage and battle lust that had driven both of them (at least partly), subsided, and Razkar frowned slightly.
Curious. The whole fight long he'd had none of those traitorous urges towards the girl. Everything had been blocked out, pushed aside so that only the thrill and lightning-fast calculations and reactions needed to survive a brawl were left.
Very useful, that.
"It does not matter how," he said, stepping closer to her, body language relaxed and all but shouting that training for today was over, "Only that you do. In battle, fight is not about glory, or honor, or even win."
He stopped a few feet away from her, black eyes suddenly hooded, as if deep in memory. He regarded the mane of flashing red hair pooling over her shoulders, some of it lank and coiled with sweat. Her goodhearted mood had returned, pleasant smile on her face and her arms behind her back.
So different from the females of Falyndar.
"In battle, fight is about who survive. When survive is all that matter, then not matter how."
With that final lesson imparted, Razkar took a deep breath and exhaled the rest of his ruthless, pragmatic teaching personality. He blinked and the Suvan under them and Flotilla around them seemed to flash back into focus. The world beyond the deck of the Cuttlefish was bright and broad, sun high and clamor of voices surrounding them.
So much more to the world than war, he thought, frowning slightly at the concept that was almost blasphemous to his Myrian mind... and then smiled at another stark piece of logic. But war drives it all. Conflict drives it all. Without it, the world stagnates and dies.
He shook his head as his nostrils started twitching. Enough for one day. He had trained his friend and she had trained him. No more morbidity or useless mental rambling.
His stomach growled. Yes. Definitely time for something else.
Razkar scanned around and patted the meager store of gold he still had on his belt. Not a lot, true, but enough for one thing. He reached over and patted Edreina's shoulder, tapping his nose with his other hand.
A knowing smirk and a snake-fast wink.
"Come. I smell trout. My treat for lunch."
The Myrian just blinked in something akin to shock. A slip of a girl who'd probably never swung a sword in her life, and if her knee had kept moving a few more inches, he'd b throwing up his lunch. He slowly lowered her to the ground and as he moved back... he shook his head, grin spread over his face.
"Good advice."
They spent a few more moments getting their breath back and breathing the fire out of their lungs. The rage and battle lust that had driven both of them (at least partly), subsided, and Razkar frowned slightly.
Curious. The whole fight long he'd had none of those traitorous urges towards the girl. Everything had been blocked out, pushed aside so that only the thrill and lightning-fast calculations and reactions needed to survive a brawl were left.
Very useful, that.
"It does not matter how," he said, stepping closer to her, body language relaxed and all but shouting that training for today was over, "Only that you do. In battle, fight is not about glory, or honor, or even win."
He stopped a few feet away from her, black eyes suddenly hooded, as if deep in memory. He regarded the mane of flashing red hair pooling over her shoulders, some of it lank and coiled with sweat. Her goodhearted mood had returned, pleasant smile on her face and her arms behind her back.
So different from the females of Falyndar.
"In battle, fight is about who survive. When survive is all that matter, then not matter how."
With that final lesson imparted, Razkar took a deep breath and exhaled the rest of his ruthless, pragmatic teaching personality. He blinked and the Suvan under them and Flotilla around them seemed to flash back into focus. The world beyond the deck of the Cuttlefish was bright and broad, sun high and clamor of voices surrounding them.
So much more to the world than war, he thought, frowning slightly at the concept that was almost blasphemous to his Myrian mind... and then smiled at another stark piece of logic. But war drives it all. Conflict drives it all. Without it, the world stagnates and dies.
He shook his head as his nostrils started twitching. Enough for one day. He had trained his friend and she had trained him. No more morbidity or useless mental rambling.
His stomach growled. Yes. Definitely time for something else.
Razkar scanned around and patted the meager store of gold he still had on his belt. Not a lot, true, but enough for one thing. He reached over and patted Edreina's shoulder, tapping his nose with his other hand.
A knowing smirk and a snake-fast wink.
"Come. I smell trout. My treat for lunch."
