[Flashback/Training] How to be a monkey (solo)

[Ryshaltze]

Season of Spring, Day 6, 508 AV
12 Chimes after the 14th Bell

Here he was again, in the middle of the minimalist Whispering Abode, fixed in an awkward posture that involved his legs being slightly bent at the knees that was meant to be a stabilizing feature. In fact, he would be pretty stable, despite the incremental numbness and (contrastingly) burning ache that started to spread throughout his body, if not for the massive great sword that he held with his right arm, straightened forward. This tilted the center of balance disproportionately to his front owing to the size and length of the sword. He was allowed to change the hand holding the sword, but only one hand could be holding it at any one time. He had been in this posture since noon and was considering taking a break even though warned not to by his mentor, Varen Direx.

Noon
"You come at an unsightly hour. It is noon and I must partake in my desired gastronomical delights." Varen remarked, bearing the look of someone about to exit from his apartment when he opened the door to see Ryshaltze gazing at him expectantly.

"I've read the book and am here as you required." Ryshaltze said defensively. He was no Konti and would obviously not be privy to the shorter man's feasting times.

"That's all fine and dandy, boy. But as they say, no food makes Varen a dangerously evil man. Therefore in order to prevent my inner demon from unleashing Armageddon and thus indirectly saving this world from a second Valterrian, I must feast," He paused when Ryshaltze gave him an accusing glare. "Now."

"Since you are already here, I will not waste your time. Come over here."

Varen demonstrated a pose and gestured at Ryshaltze to adopt it.

"It is one of the many stances that Akalaks use to physically and mentally condition their bodies. You should be lucky that I pass on this knowledge to you, since Akalaks rarely share their knowledge freely. Though one as contemptuous as you would fail to see it anyway."

Ryshaltze snorted and adopted the posture, his heart skipping a beat as his muscles tensed almost immediately, attempting to counterbalance the strain of holding the blade straight with straightened arms. Still, he did not want to appear weak and let Varen get the last laugh.

"This is easy, old man. What am I supposed to really do in the meantime, think about floating clouds and singing Nuit?" He retorted at his mentor through gritted teeth, trying his best to sound as if the stance was not taking up much effort to maintain but probably failing to do so.

Varen laughed, and paused at the doorway before closing the door.

"Since this is so easy, boy, remain in this position until I'm back." He chuckled again, leaving Ryshaltze to himself in the studio apartment.

Ryshaltze swore, both his arms and legs burning with muscle fatigue as he refused to give up. He imagined the mocking satisfaction that would appear in Varen's eyes if he failed which gave him a fresh burst of stamina to maintain that position. For once, he could see why the Akalaks were renowned warriors. If this posture was one of their usual conditioning techniques, he could envision the necessary strength and stamina one would need to be able to do this easily.

The worst was the mental torture, for he had no idea when the human would come back, and there was nothing for him to think about except to distract himself from the ache by thinking about past encounters. It was difficult, but in the midst of the haze of fatigue it was all he could do to prevent letting go.

Ah... letting go...

Ryshaltze shook his head, once again emptying his mind of dejecting thoughts and glared hard at the door, as if blaming it for not opening.

Suddenly, it was as if the gods answered his wishes, and the door opened, revealing the man of his thoughts. Ryshaltze covered up his sigh of relief by coughing and was suitably unimpressed with Varen's contented expression.

Here I was suffering and there he was enjoying his life.

Still, it was by his own intentions that brought him here, and he did not forget the effort and time taken to track this man down, as well as to persuade him to impart some of his valuable knowledge. He intended to benefit the most from this encounter and would not let petty emotions get in the way.

[Ryshaltze]

"Ugh," Varen grimaced, "You can stop looking like a constipated monkey now and sheath your lump of metal." He gestured at the unzipped cello case crumpled at the corner of the apartment. He started to make a witty remark aimed at implying the lack of diligence, but upon seeing his student's weary yet determined eyes, visibly shaking body and overly-strained muscles, he knew that Ryshaltze had followed everything to the letter and not slacked off one bit. His gaze softened momentarily, though he gazed back at the door so that the Ethaefal would not notice. The young-looking apprentice, though much older in age, reminded the master combatant of himself when he was a younger and much more insolent. Varen allowed himself a fleeting grin before turning around to face Ryshaltze.

He motioned wordlessly towards the wooden great sword - the very same that they had used in an earlier session - that leaned against the entrance table and took out his own wooden dagger, his standing posture portraying a relaxed attitude.

Ryshaltze proceeded to return Angra Mainyu to its resting place. Upon zipping up the massive black leather case, he picked up the wooden claymore. For some reason, it felt disproportionately heavy today, though it could be attributed to his extremely strained body. He felt slower, less intelligent, less perceptive, and a great deal less confident than he would have felt normally.

"Everyone can fight when they're at peak form. But how do you continue to win a duel when you're this exhausted?" Varen boomed, bringing Ryshaltze's exhausted gaze to the present.

"Not only that, today we will learn how to fight like a monkey." Varen carried on cheerily, feigning ignorance of his student's weary state. "Monkeys are what we call combatants who fight with everything, and I mean everything they have. In real combat, there is no honorable duel or agreed-upon protocol. In real combat, there are no rules. And the winner is the one who knows how to best take advantage of the lack of rules, and forces the opponent to play by his own invented rules while not following any of it."

Ryshaltze nodded, his stamina slowly returning to him as he listened, the familiar rush of curiosity now entering his body, motivating him to learn more of this technique. He did not hold up the wooden sword, however, and was partially standing and partially resting on it, using it as a form of makeshift walking stick as he recovered his strength.

Varen chose to ignore that moment of weakness, and continued, "Your real opponent will not know what you can do, and vice versa, until it is too late. However, for training purposes we will reveal some of it to facilitate your learning process. Let's just say, for now, that I possess rudimentary knowledge of unarmed, daggers, magic and archery. I gather that you should have a similar foundation, except with unwieldy disgraces instead of daggers."

"They are not unwieldy-" Ryshaltze interrupted self-righteously, for Varen was beginning to make a habit of using that phrase on great swords.

"Listen properly and stop interrupting. You cannot learn properly when you're being hyperactive when you're supposed to be absorbing." Varen cut the indignant man off, clearly enjoying the moment of ridicule.

"We shall spar, as per previously. But as I warned you, do not take anything at face value, and never assume and set your mind on anything, or it'll be the last thing that you'll ever think of."

Varen coughed subtly while glancing at the way Ryshaltze leaned on his sword, and the Ethaefal-in-Drykas-form hastily brought his practice blade to bear, two hands holding it together in a stable combat stance. The master combatant twirled his wooden dagger with one hand, and pointed his other hand at Ryshaltze.

"Prepare yourself."

[Ryshaltze]

Ryshaltze braced himself and unfocused his vision so that he could have a wider field of perception. It was a method taught to him in the book that he borrowed from Varen, and such a method enabled one to be fully prepared against a much wider angle of attack, though one would be less perceptive in terms of detail. Practically speaking, it was good for combat as all you need to know is that the knife is there, not what the tiny markings of the knife said. It was furthermore important in this sparring session, for he knew that Varen was a highly unorthodox combatant, and he needed to be prepared against the unexpected. That said, he still felt woefully unprepared and was glad this was a practice rather than a real duel.

Varen stood scratching his chin, surveying the taller man nonchalantly. Suddenly, he rushed towards Ryshaltze, his legs pushing off against the floor in such a violent burst of 'spike energy' that he accelerated in midair towards the front of his opponent. Ryshaltze swung his sword forward to deflect the hit, but it never came. Upon reaching the larger man, the human tapped the ground in front of him lightly with his foot, pushing himself to Ryshaltze's left and jabbing at his torso with the wooden dagger. Ryshaltze realized the master combatant's intent and instinctively turned his midriff slightly while raising his sword arm such that the blade was facing down, forcing an impressive wooden shield as the familiar wooden thud was heard when the point of the dagger knocked against the flat of his claymore.

Varen smirked, kicking the flat of the sword in mid-leap backwards, the Ethaefal absorbing the impact easily, for he was a much heavier man than the human. He kicked off towards the rogue, bringing his great sword in a right-handed swing in an attempt to crush the smaller man's defenses. He was taught to always maximize his advantages and this was definitely where his advantage lie. The rogue knew what his student intended to do, and took it into consideration as that previous leap led him towards a wall. Unhesitatingly he kicked off against the wall, and the combined momentum caused him to 'fly' at an angle higher up than Ryshaltze, aiming for the neck. Ryshaltze's subconscious screamed at him and he brought up his blade in a defensive move, the flat of the blade facing him again to form a makeshift wall.

"Charlie thee, charlie heave. Charlie wrecked an uncooked beef." Varen called out to Ryshaltze, slightly confusing the man.

Was that an attempt to confuse me? Is it part of this 'all-rounded' warfare that he mentioned?

There was no time to think, however, when he felt the force of the world crash into him. It was of a strength unlike any other, and he felt his knees buckling as Varen's small dagger slammed against his defensive wall. Ryshaltze supported the wall by pushing his other palm on the flat of the blade, and yet he felt a disproportionately large pressure exacted on the blade by a man holding a dagger in mid-air. This was ridiculous; it defied the natural laws of physics to do that. It was then, that he realized that Varen had tapped into Flux, for it was an art that he frequently used himself. That nonsensical verse was probably an incantation to focus his thoughts and also to confuse the opponent, and he scolded himself for not thinking of it earlier, since he had done the exact same thing in previous combat situations.

Two can play at this.

"Midnight sky upon which the throneless wage endless war. Grant upon thy seeker the mysteries of the starry seventh." The Ethaefal muttered softly, not wanting to give any sign of his next move. He directed the stream of djed to his arms, channeling strength to withstand the barrage of forceful energy. Almost instantly, the pressure that he felt decreased, and he felt strength returning to his legs, stabilizing him as he battled the attack.

While Ryshaltze was doing so, Varen was already off muttering a series of phrases in Akalak, a glowing matter starting to form in the other hand not wielding the dagger. There was a crackle of energy before he threw the ball of newly-formed lightning towards Ryshaltze's legs in an attempt to break his foundation of stability. Ryshaltze's eyes widened in surprise and he maneuvered sidewards to avoid the magical projectile, the ball dissipating harmlessly on the floor. However, this weakened the foundation of his defence and his knees buckled to the ground, causing his to kneel while holding out his great sword as a shield. Varen gave a lopsided grin in satisfaction and the pressure disappeared as he landed lightly on the floor with a soft thud. That entire process only took place in a matter of seconds, but it felt like eternity to Ryshaltze.

This was what swordsmen meant when they say time slows when you're in a life and death situation.

He was hardly in a life threatening situation, but it had sure seemed like one. He was about to exclaim about a master not needing to throw magical projectiles at their students not when they want them to survive and learn, when Varen stated matter-of-factly, "And don't complain about me wanting to kill you. That electric ball was a decoy, even if it had hit you it would have just given you a tiny static jolt. My Reimancy skill isn't that advanced to achieve whatever gruesome thing your no doubt over-active imagination is conjuring now."

[Ryshaltze]

Without ado, Ryshaltze plucked himself from his disgraceful position and stood up again, his sword once again in the familiar stable stance. It was not till now that he knew how varied Varen's attacks could get, and he intended to surprise his mentor with a trick or two. Varen nodded, and taunted Ryshaltze with his 'come get me' gesture, his fingers a blur as he twirled the wooden dagger. He was still obviously not sparring properly, and Ryshaltze was a fair ways behind from being able to make the middle-aged rogue break a sweat.

The divine-touched sped forward suddenly, mirroring the first attack that he performed in their first practice session. He swung the claymore down with two hands, intending to crush the smaller man with a greater force. Varen had already anticipated that attack and lazily responded appropriately, using a single hand to release short bursts of smacks as his dagger dissipated the energy of the swing just as he had done.

"Deja vu, anyone? You must stop doing -", Varen remarked before he was cut short when Ryshaltze reached forward with a straight punch. He managed to step behind, but took some damage as he stumbled further behind than he should have. He nodded briefly to acknowledge the hit just as the Ethaefal's triumphantly followed up with a swing of the blade to the left. Varen acrobatically jumped over the lowly aimed swing and attempted to stab Ryshaltze with his wooden dagger, having leaped over the sword and now in between the sword and its wielder. This was known as the 'sweet spot' for if one were to be in anyone's 'sweet spot', the fight would usually be over unless that someone was knowledgeable in hand-to-hand.

The very first thought the Ethaefal had was to release his sword and use that very same right hand to block or push the smaller human away. However, a voice inside him told him that that was probably what Varen expected, and instead, he raised his left hand in a stance to impede Varen's forearm, thus disabling the stabbing attempt. Simultaneously, he struck that hand downwards, his greater strength forcing Varen's arm to follow suit, and sidestepped right-wards, swinging his claymore left-wards at Varen's neck. A decapitation tended to end most fights.

Ryshaltze was so focused on following up attack after attack, that he failed to follow one of the tenets of combat taught to him; that is to always observe your opponent to prevent being surprised. The more surprised one is in a duel, the shorter one's lifespan tended to be. When Varen's arm got trapped, he was off muttering again, and just as Ryshaltze's sword came swinging by, he used his other hand to reach into his jacket and brandish another wooden dagger and parried the claymore. There was a slight pause, and Ryshaltze felt his right arm give way and was flung backwards, the claymore clattering on the floor.

He glared at Varen, "You cheated, old man. First you use another weapon, then bloody flux again?"

"I couldn't think of how I can introduce this next segment and so I suppose you thought of the introduction method for me." Varen chuckled. He strode over to the usual table by the entrance, and opened the larger drawer at the bottom. He took out a wooden short sword that was lying inside, and threw it over to Ryshaltze.

"When I said that you have to fight like a monkey, you have to use both your hands. I thought that you had to use both hands to fight with that lump of steel you haul around, but seeing now that you can fight just as efficiently with a single hand, we won't waste it, won't we?"

Ryshaltze picked up his claymore with his right hand, then did the same to the short sword with his left. What a strange feeling! He felt slightly off-balance, as his internal senses tried to compensate for the shift in his center of gravity.

Varen took a glance at his student's uneasy posture, then sighed and reached into the drawer again, throwing him a loose leather sheath that came with the practice sword. "Wear it, and use your short sword whenever the moment's right. Being able to dual wield effectively requires time, and at your state now I can probably defeat you with a breath of air."

Ryshaltze accepted the leather sheath and tied it around his waist. He put the wooden short sword in it, then took it out, before replacing it inside again, getting used to the motion of drawing and replacing.

Varen threw both daggers in the air, catching them again at their hilt, all the while observing Ryshaltze intently. "Now, we try again. And don't say that I'm cheating when both your weapons are larger than mine."