40th of Spring 504AV
Location: Training Yards
Purpose: Wrestling with Siiri!
A flash of ebony locks, the sounds of clinking beads and bones and feathers tickling olive cheeks. Sweat dripped down Koa’s temple as her mind exerted itself to focus. Focus as clearly as she could, with her mother’s words penetrating her thoughts.
“Think of yourself as a Myrian tiger, a predator ready for the kill. Ambush tactics, be patient, look for an opening, and then strike. Strike with all the force you can muster, as if that isn’t even enough. Do you understand, Koa?”
“Yes mother,“ came the Myrian girl’s meek response.
“Louder, child, be more efficient, show me your rage.”
“Yes, mother!” She cried, expression stern, body rigid.
“That’s better, now get into your stance, once more. Go.”
And now she stood here, in the face of an opponent, a fellow Myrian. She had her legs bent, her arms raised in anticipation, ready for any incoming blows, any strike that would attempt to land on one of her weak spots. The fellow trainee she was dueling she knew quite well, it was one of her friends, Taro of the Open Palm, from a family of expert combatants. But Koa did not fear, she too came from a vicious family when it came to battle. She would give it her all, because she knew word would get to her mother on her failure or her success, and she longed to bring honor above anything else.
“Come at me, Taro!” She shouted, taunting. Would the other girl move in response? She only hoped so, it would give her an advantage that would put in her in the lead. Strike, deflect, then a knock back. Taro’s lips twitched as if she meant to speak, but instead she moved ever so slightly closer to Koa. In turn, Koa stood her ground, watching with fierce green irises at every inch her feet took, every subtle twitch in her skin. Her fingers slowly curled into fists, ready for the offensive from her opponent.
And indeed, a fraction of a chime later, and Taro had whipped out in an immediate punch, an aim to break through the defense of her arms, but instead of connecting with them, Koa had moved swiftly away, avoiding the move, and lashed out with her own attack, which was unfortunately deflected in a heartbeat with a brown arm. She immediately jumped back, standing stock still, calculating. Taro stood silent, waiting, then a flash and the two were in the heat of the duel once again. Koa kicked out aiming for Taro’s stomach which fortunately connected, forcing the other girl to topple over, but in doing so she had wrapped her arm around Koa’s waist and brought her tumbling down.
In that instant they wrestled themselves on the ground, fists flying and legs flailing, each taking turns settling themselves on top of the other’s stomach, landing punches to face, arms and chest in the heat of the moment. In the end Koa had triumphed, subduing Taro to the point that she cried out, “Stop, stop!”
Koa groaned, “Oh why now? Such a crybaby sometimes, Taro.” Grudgingly she got off her friend, then shot a hand out to help the girl up, “The blood suits your face, it’s like paint.” She grinned, pearly white teeth flashing in the sun.
Taro grunted, wiping her mouth with flat of her palm, “Yeah well you’re just as messy as me.”
“Yeah yeah, good duel, anyway,” she said, waving her hand almost nonchalantly. The training at times was grueling, but what was a Myrian’s lifestyle without a bit of bloodshed? Taro rolled her eyes at Koa, “I’m going to go patch up before the next set, okay? Talk to you later.” She waved at her friend as she skipped off, and Koa was left mulling over the encounter in general. She glanced at her palm, smeared with the red, thick liquid, then closed it into a tight fist. Yes, she succeeded this time, but will she be able to against even tougher opponents?
Walking over to where she had last left her small rag for such things as wiping herself clean of blood and easing the throbbing of bruises, she wiped it along her body. These wouldn’t be a hindrance. No it’d egg her on even more. What’s in the pain but a motivation to end it? She sat on the ground for a time, biting into a ripe and delicious jackalfruit her mother had given her prior to the bouts of training she was to endure for the day.