Tests in Faith (Hirem)

by **Alyra** on June 8th, 2014, 7:47 pm

10th of Summer, 514 AV

Alyra sat on the ground of Semele Park. Her legs were crossed beneath her, providing a neat little nest for Nash to sleep in. Normally, the cat would leap around the grass, hopping from one adventure to the next. His recent injuries have made adventuring a struggle, though. Now, he lazes about when they go out.

Alyra, on the other hand, was already back to her normal self. The cuts and scrapes that once littered her face are now nearly healed, leaving only small trails of scabs here and there. Her curiosity was back at full-strength, and the Eth once again examined life with a careful eye. Today, she was watching insects interact with the park's plant life. She observed flying bugs buzz from plant to plant, causing her to wonder the connection between the two organisms. Surely the plants fed the bugs, but why would the insects need to visit multiple plants, then? Are some flowers less nutritious than others? Maybe some plants have different tastes...

Alyra was lost in her thoughts. If her company never showed, she wouldn't know the difference. She probably wouldn't even think twice about being abandoned; after all, she was not looking forward to sparring. The new skill was painful, and she looked silly while practicing it. Not to mention the fact that she would never be as good as the Akalak boys that practiced alongside her in the Tuvya Sasaran. It was embarrassing, to say the least.

Nevertheless, if she wished to live as a Kuvan inside Riverfall, then she would have to learn. With any luck, this "Hirem" would be a gentle, good-humored person. He had answered the ad she had put out with haste--the ad was only out for two to three days before she got a response--and had agreed to meet her here at roughly the 12th bell. Alyra leaned back and looked up at the sun, shielding her eyes as Syna warmly welcomed the attention. The sun was high in the sky, making it roughly the 12th bell.

Alyra returned to her investigation, watching as a group of insects carried a petal across the dirt. The teamwork these creatures displayed was admirable, and inspiring. Alyra shrugged, gingerly rubbing the top of Nash's head as she spoke softly: "If they can do it, so can I, right?"

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by **Hirem** on June 8th, 2014, 9:33 pm

If Hirem could only keep one memory of his time in Riverfall, and only one, he knew exactly which memory he would choose. He would not choose the first time he had ever laid eyes upon the city, as marvellous as that experience was. He would not choose the first time that he had ever set foot on its lowest beach, or stood at the top tier and stared down into the mighty expanse of the Suvan Sea. He would not choose the fateful bout with Sorian that changed his perspective on his own body, or that fateful night with Natalia that had redefined his evaluation of "otherworldly". He would not even elect to retain the memory of his first preaching, no matter how much it solidified his convictions in Yahal.

None of these made Hirem happier than the present moment, as he walked quietly through Semele Park and grew enraptured by its wonders.

Ostensibly, he was here to follow up on an advertisement posted outside the Tuvya Sasaran, asking for a sparring partner for a woman named "Alyra". The advertisement had come at a convenient time for Hirem, for his current sparring partner - Sorian, the boy that had so soundly bested him during their first practice bout - had announced his plans to leave Riverfall within a fortnight for an overland expedition. "There is no better test for a warrior," Sorian had proudly declared, "than to put his skills to the test on the open road." The Benshiran was sad to see his friend leave, growing attached to him after their many sparring matches, but also felt proud that the young man was already preparing to embark on such a perilous quest. May Yahal guide his steps, he prayed, and may this Alyra prove to be his match!

But all thoughts of Alyra had been dashed quickly after entering Semele Park, his gaze quickly drawn to the vast menagerie of colours that dazzled his mind and bewitched his senses. Hirem had grown up with only three colours present in his landscape: red, brown, and gold. Red for the baked cliffs, brown for the packed dirt, and gold for the shifting sand that was so easily swept away into the merciless wind. The desert was stale and boring and tough; the garden in Semele park was bright, vibrant, and filled with precious life. Here, all sorts of pretty colours were present - bright pinks, dark blues, earthy greens and sunny yellows! It was almost more than Hirem could withstand to see. He walked through the garden in a dizzy haze, drunk with sunlight and grinning madly to himself.

Eventually, some semblance of reason had slipped back into his mind, steering the awestruck Benshiran back on course to meet Alyra at the prearranged location. Just in time, as a cursory glance towards the sky made Hirem realize that the 12th bell was already upon him. Stifling his wonderment, the man pushed the straps of his rucksack farther up his shoulder and continued swiftly down the trail to meet his future sparring partner, hoping that his lateness hadn't already driven her off. Thankfully, by the time he made it to the meeting place, he could very clearly see a woman reclining on the grass, carefully examining something in the dirt. His immediate first impression was pretty, which didn't bode well for sparring practice, but the girl was nevertheless stunning at a distance. Assuming this to be Alyra, Hirem paced over to her and raised up his hand to call out...

Those are horns growing from her head.

He stopped in his tracks, realizing with a start that this woman was not human. Or, if she were, that she was wearing a very convincing disguise. The Benshiran struggled to prevent his surprise from overcoming his features, but it was all for naught; his jaw slackened and his breath stopped in his chest. When the advertisement mentioned her name, I thought that she might be a human woman, some Drykas or Svefra... but those horns... His mind went blank for a second, trying to make sense of the oddity sitting in the grass some ways away. Deep down inside, his instincts were already preaching danger - Rakva! Monster! - but Hirem knew that he couldn't trust those instincts in particular. They said the same for Dhanya and Natalia, and neither woman brought me anything but relief and goodwill.

Thinking of Natalia, Hirem realized that the Natalia of the day had also been graced with horns. Does that mean that this Alyra is also an Ethaefal? The idea nearly made him laugh - here he was, just a season out of the Burning Lands, and already he had encountered two heavenly beings! - but it also brought him no small degree of peace. If Natalia is someone I can judge the Ethaefal race by, then I would say that I am very lucky to meet another of their kind. But it wasn't just memories of Natalia that settled his disquiet mind - in the short time since he had discovered their existence, he had already managed to develop a quiet sense of reverence for the Ethaefal. From what I've been told, they were once touched by heaven, and now walk the earth for some unknown reason... to live such a blessed existence, only to be cursed to a life with mortals, I can think of no worse fate. They are deserving of respect, if nothing else.

Realizing that respect was not offered with him rudely gawking at Alyra, Hirem resumed his walk towards her, hurrying to brush the brief moment of shock aside. "Falim, friend!" He called out happily, nodding his head respectfully as he approached. I wonder what it is about the dirt that intrigues her so? Is this a trait of the Ethaefal, or is this a trait of Alyra's? Setting the rucksack on the ground near her, Hirem plopped himself down and sat opposite his new sparring partner. He tried not to stare at her horns or, indeed, any other body part of hers, but he was admittedly curious as to why this delicate flower seemed so eager to fight. She was nearly as tall as him, but far, far skinnier. Overcoming his curiosity, Hirem focused his gaze upon her eyes, his face lit up in a jovial smile. "As you know, I am Hirem, from the tents of Alachi, of the sons of Rapa. It is good to meet you, Alyra."

"When do you wish to start? I've already completed morning stretches, so I am ready to go." The more he spoke of Common, the more his accent's irregularities faded, the more his rushing voice slowed down to avoid slurring the words. Gesturing to the field next to them, the Benshiran glanced upwards and enjoyed the sight of the blue sky above. "Syna is quite bright today. I'm sure you are happy for this, yes?"

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by **Alyra** on June 8th, 2014, 10:41 pm

Nash had awakened, stretching out his petite multi-colored body. He was still moving sluggishly, as if he was expecting the bandages to still be constricting his movements. Alyra smiled down at the cat, playfully poking and flicking his ears as he rearranged his body in her lap. After three or four flicks, the cat seemed to grow impatient; he wanted to nap, and the Eth was not being helpful. His right paw drew in Alyra's finger, pulling it into his mouth. He began to gently nibble on her digit.

"Oh, stop that, would you? You big laze--Hello!" Alyra said, head snapping up to meet the approaching man. She enjoyed this man's presence already; Alyra would readily follow any person who addressed a stranger as "friend." In actuality, though, Alyra would have followed anyone. It was her belief that if Eyris guided someone to her, then it was her job to guide--or be guided--from there. If she did not take every opportunity that came along or did not follow every new "friend", then she was failing not only Eyris, but Syna as well. That just would not do.

"Falim, friend." The Ethaefal repeated back to the man as he plopped down. She had no idea what she had said to him, but it had "friend" tacked onto the end so it must not have been too bad.

Alyra never took offense when people looked at her longer than appropriate. She always thought society's fear of staring was superficial, and she never understood why being stared at worried people so much. If anything, Alyra thought that people should take it as a compliment. Regardless, Alyra did not wish to make the man feel uncomfortable; she pretended not to notice the gawking, or visual evaluation.

"Well met, Hirem. From the tents of Alachi. Of the sons Rapa." Alyra laughed lightly at the introduction, repeating it with pauses that emphasized the abnormal length. She made her tone light, yet focused, in order to give off the impression that she was memorizing a long, long list. "I am Alyra, and this is Nash." She nodded down to the sleeping cat. She gently pulled her finger out of his mouth, sighing in mock annoyance.

At the mention of morning stretches and sparring, Alyra's smile faded a bit. Right."Ah, I forgot about that. I suppose I'm ready to start whenever you are." She was unenthusiastic, to put things lightly. She separated her legs, which allowed for Nash to fall through. He dropped into the grass with an audible puff, glaring up at his owner for forcing him off of his heating pad. She stood. "Yes, very happy. Now Syna can take joy in knowing that I've become a successful punching bag." Though she laughed, Alyra was only partially joking. Hirem was a huge man, and Alyra was...well...she wasn't. The Eth would go as far to say that this man could feasibly make her his chew toy. Eyris guide me. Syna give me strength.

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by **Hirem** on June 9th, 2014, 11:52 pm

He didn't know what it was about Alyra, but Hirem liked her already.

Perhaps it was thanks to how comely she looked under the bright sunlight, or how cheery her smile was in the full light of day. Natalia too had been possessed with that same elegant, unattainable beauty when graced by Syna's light... perhaps this was a racial characteristic of the Ethaefal? No, it wasn't just her appearance that made him smile and think the day was all the better for her presence... it was the girl's personality that really charmed him. Just like the perfect garden that surrounded them, so vibrant with colour, this Alyra seemed to be possessed with a lively, friendly personality that struck him as odd in this city of boastful warriors and proud craftsmen - an oddity that he was not ungrateful for. She seems humble, if nothing else, and humility is a virtue in this city of heroes.

Briefly, Hirem remembered the stories once told around his Tent's campfire in the twilight hours, as the evening's Masha was drawing to a close. All sorts of stories were told at the traditional meeting of the Tent, but the darkening hours were usually suited for just one kind of story - stories that made the skin crawl along the back of your neck, made the slightest whisper of the wind seem treacherous. Invariably, these stories were about magic, and the treacherous nature of it. The villains were always trickster gods, shape-shifting demons, nefarious illusionists... and, yes, more than a few false servants of the gods. A character of Alyra's ilk would not be foreign to the cautionary tales told to Benshiran children, tales that Hirem had taken for the truth at a young age. My people have told these stories for countless generations, but I wonder... Dhanya did not strike me as a vile demon or a fearsome witch, and Alyra certainly doesn't act like she was born of a false god. Have my people become overzealous?

It was a question for anther time. As Alyra rose to her feet, Hirem joined her, stretching his arms far out to either side and taking a deep breath. He had once thought during the last season that if he were to challenge himself to go running, stretching, and exercising for at least a bell every day, his body would quickly adapt to the stress and become much more capable and fit. He had once thought that even his breathing would improve, until the point where he no longer needed a big gasp of air to fill his lungs. A few weeks later, and Hirem could confirm that neither had occurred; he was more fit, but only enough to realize that he still had a very, very long way to go. Even now, as the Benshiran unfurled his body and prepared to drop into a combat stance, he felt sore all over. Perhaps this will give Alyra a more sporting chance in the battle.

Looking back to the Ethaefal, Hirem realized that she was going to need every advantage she could muster. She looked far too graceful for combat, and, judging by the way she was moving, she didn't seem to have been trained extensively in martial arts. Compared to the Akalak trainees he had fought at the Tuvya Sasaran, Hirem knew that he was not a competent fighter... but he was willing to wager that Alyra would have a difficult time beating even him. Remembering the first day that he stepped into the Sasaran for martial training, as well as the one-sided beating he took from every fighter in the practice room, he wondered if perhaps this was his opportunity to reverse the situation. Perhaps now I will get to feel what Soran felt when he utterly trumped me?

But no. Alyra, if she was looking for combat training, deserved better guidance than that. "I am thinking that you are not experienced in this, yes?" He asked, keeping his tone respectful, making sure that he didn't accidentally trod over her cat as he paced through the garden. Reaching up and easing himself out of his coat and tunic, Hirem let the garments drop casually onto the grass. "If so, we shall start simply. I have had a bit of training, so I can show you what I know." Swatting at the insects that swarmed in to prey on his bare skin, the Benshiran squared himself against the Ethaefal two arm-lengths away from her, turning his head from side to side and relaxing his neck.

"When you fight anyone - for practice like this or for your life - you drop into a stance to guard yourself. Here, like this," he exclaimed, demonstrating to her the proper positioning taught to him at the Sasaran. His feet were planted firmly into the ground and his knees were bent, allowing him easy mobility. His back was hunched forward, allowing his arms to more effectively defend his stomach as well as granting them greater reach. His hands, bared into loose fists, were held up close to the base of his neck. "You don't need this exact stance... you just need hands up and knees bent. Otherwise, you may get caught off-guard and beaten."

"So... I'm going to count to three, and then I'm going to charge you. Are you ready?" Brown eyes glittering with sunlight, Hirem's smile continued to wink above his bared fists as he counted down. He shifted his weight from the heels of his feet to their balls, hopefully granting some springing action that would catapult him toward his opponent. "One... two... three!" He cried, lunging towards Alyra and swinging one tightly-held fist towards her stomach. He only swung with half of his usual force, hoping to avoid doing any serious damage to her if she was caught unprepared.

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by **Alyra** on June 10th, 2014, 9:54 pm

.

As Hirem demonstrated, Alyra watched carefully. She set up her body the same way, though her posture looked like the rough draft form of Hirem's. Her arms felt awkward when she lifted them, and quickly grew tired from protecting her face. We're her shoulders supposed to be relaxed, or tense? She couldn't determine the answer from simply looking at Hirem as an example; everything on that man looked tight to her. Alyra gave an internal shrug, then decided to go for the former option. What would the point of stretching be if not to loosen and relax the muscles? If her assumptions were wrong, she'd at least find out in a few ticks. Her feet fell into place, or, rather, a place; she looked like she was trying to do the splits while still standing upright. It wasn't a comfortable stance, but the Eth hadn't expected it to be. She was under the impression that that sort of comfort came with experience, and skill.

Skill that Hirem appeared to have. His body appeared much more built for this sort of activity. Though he didn't look to be much taller than her, he was certainly heavier. Hirem's shoulders were wide, and his muscles were thick. Thankfully, Alyra had Syna at her back, which gave her added height and muscles. If not for that, then Alyra wouldn't stand even the slightest chance.

What Alyra thought would give her the biggest advantage, though, was Eyris's teachings. Through the cloud of adrenaline that fell over her brain, Alyra tried to evaluate her options:

1. Run. It was the most logical choice. The only way she could avoid injury altogether was to avoid the fight altogether. That, however, would not gain her a favorable status within the city. Running wouldn't please the gods, it wouldn't please Hirem, and it certainly wouldn't please her Akalak neighbors. Running also wouldn't earn her any new knowledge, and that would hurt Alyra the most.

Can't run... 2. Dodge. Dodging the attack seemed the next best thing to running. She would avoid injury without disgracing herself. Unfortunately, Alyra had no clue how to do that. Sure, she understood the principle behind it...opponent swings, you move out of the way. Her body, however, was not calibrated to the movements that dodging would require. She wasn't fast, swift, agile...nothing like that. If she tried to dodge, odds are Hirem would hit her in a fragile place, and then knock her off-balance.

Hirem finished counting down, launching himself towards her. Alarms rang in Alyra's brain. What do I do? What else is there to do? As things currently stood, Hirem was going to charge right into her, plowing the Eth down without meeting any resistance. Alyra swallowed hard, holding her breath in order to brace for impact. Bracing... Bracing. It was a word she had heard thrown around the Sasaran last time she went. It was used in conjunction with something else...something right on the tip of Alyra's tongue.

Hirem had taken one step, and was now half a stride away from her. His fist was aimed at her lower half, and that made Alyra glad. The woman wouldn't have gotten up if his fist connected with anywhere above her chest. Alyra wasn't all that coordinated, so she wouldn't be able to block his punch once it got too close to her. Ah! There it is! Blocking! Alyra remember at the last possible moment what her third option was, throwing her arms over her stomach in an attempt to put as many layers between her core and Hirem's fist. She braced, digging her back heel into the ground so that she wouldn't fall as soon as she was struck.

Through a combination of reflexes and force of habit, Alyra shut her eyes just as Hirem crashed into her. She grunted as his fist molded into her arms. Thankfully, her arms took most of the hit. Hirem's hand did manage to slither its way into her stomach, though. Alyra stumbled backwards. After three or four frantic steps, Alyra regained her balance. Her left forearm felt as though it was being pricked by hundreds of needles at once, with pain sprinkling up and down her arm. A tight knot was forming in her stomach, and it made Alyra want to curl into a ball.

I hate being right, Alyra thought as she took her time setting herself back up. This is as bad as I imagined. Her hands were set in front of her face, and her feet went back to their previous position. She figured it was her "turn"--if fighting had those--and now prepared herself for it. Taking in another deep breath, Alyra rocked onto her back foot twice. Perhaps that would build momentum, forcing her pathetic swing to have some oompf! behind it...

After the second rock, Alyra launched herself forward off of her right leg. Her arm swung a bit wider than it should have as it came around, but it was still aimed at the same place: Hirem's . . . well, just Hirem, actually.

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by **Hirem** on June 12th, 2014, 12:04 am

As Hirem was throwing himself at Alyra, launching from a controlled point and guiding his clenched fist to her belly in a dizzy rush, he wondered if perhaps this was the wrong approach to attempt to train her from. When I came here, I didn't expect to find someone even less skilled than I... and certainly not someone that looks as delicate as this Ethaefal. He had never really been called to teach somebody before, save for a few children in the many camps that he visited. Alyra was no child; her hunger for learning, evidenced in how quickly she mimicked his combat stance, could equal or surpass his own. How, then, could he train her when they were essentially peers? I did not learn how to fight from an instructor... I learned from instinct and adapting to my opponents. Perhaps Alyra is best served by doing the same?

Even as he was thinking this split-second thought, Hirem realized that Alyra was already doing her best to respond to his sudden attack. Her feet were digging into the ground for leverage, and her arms were flying up to defend her exposed stomach. Good! he thought to himself, a small grin forming in the quarter moment it took for the two opponents to meet. As his fist dropped low to hit her stomach, he grazed his front two knuckles on her forearm, sending a quick spasm of pain up the length of his wrist and softening the blow's impact severely. He grit his teeth and continued with the blow's momentum, pushing past her barricade of arms and carrying his punch into her stomach. Success met when he felt his knuckles dig into her soft belly. Not intending to do serious harm, as well as trying to gain himself a better position, Hirem quickly retracted the fist and dashed backwards from Alyra.

Adrenaline racing through his veins and slowing time to a slug's crawl, Hirem noted Alyra's first major mistake of the battle: she was spending too much time trying to reorient herself in preparation for another attack. You can't let me press the offensive at this stage! You have to seize it for yourself! But even though the woman seemed occupied with righting herself after the last blow, the Benshiran kept his distance; throwing up his fists, he paced softly towards her, prepared to defend himself against her next attack. It was strange, knowing that he was in control of the battle and could decide its outcome, due to nothing more than his own experience. Is this what Soran felt as he sparred with me? How much was he holding back, and how much was a genuine effort for him? Hirem didn't feel like he had expended effort after his last attack - the many weeks spent brawling with students at the Sasaran had improved his stamina considerably.

But the legacy of the Sasaran did not just lay in his expanded fighting capabilities... it also lay within his mind, currently being bewitched by the siren song of battle. I love to spar, Hirem realized with a faint smile. I love the challenge of battle, the thrills of the fight, and the kinship I feel with my opponents. He even felt a connection now with Alyra, though she had little unarmed combat experience, felt most strongly when he had first struck her and she, responding quickly, moved to block him. It is a game of wits, augmented by the body. And the fact that nobody has to die for the battle to become enjoyable is the best part. I've shed enough blood as it is.

His thoughts were interrupted when, staring at Alyra, Hirem realized that she was preparing to come and attack him. The Ethaefal was attempting to use momentum to bring him down - smart, considering the advantage he had through sheer brawn. Preparing his guard around his upper chest, the Benshiran rocked on his own foot patiently, giving himself the option to either block or dodge depending upon the severity of the blow. But a third option soon presented itself to him - attack! She is letting me know where she intends to aim her blow... why should I stand here and let it come, when I can seize the field from her? Gritting his teeth, Hirem took a deep breath...

... lunged at her just as she sprung forward with her own charge...

... and was rewarded with a punch to the ear for his troubles.

It was both his mistake and Alyra's strength that conspired to bring him down. He made a stupid move by charging her at all, exposing his flank for her arm to swing around and attack. He had thought that he might have been able to deflect the blow with his forearm, but the arm moved wider than he anticipated and ended up slamming directly into the side of his head, crushing his ear. "Hik!" he cried out, his eyes firmly shutting, his features twisted into shock. In a daze, he forgot to make his own attack entirely, instead taking a stumbling swerve to the right and dodging Alyra completely. The pain was stinging, the pain was blinding, the side of his head felt like it had just been stabbed clean through and was in danger of leaking out.

Her bony hands seem to have found a use in combat!

Grinning despite his own pain - I've found more than just a trainee! - Hirem eventually managed to correct his course, and swivelled about to face his opponent. This is my time to attack, and I'll make sure the retaliation is swift and brutal. But he did not blindly charge at her. Instead, the Benshiran kept his guard up, staggered forward with quick, dashing steps, making sure that he was ready to move at all times in the event of another attack coming his way. When he finally came close enough to strike, he juked his hands forward to make her think a punch was coming, and instead treated her to a sudden kick from one of his long legs.

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by **Alyra** on June 12th, 2014, 4:05 am

.

It felt as though her arm was dangling in the air for bells. The air pressed against her arm, sending tingles through it as gravity tried to pull her arm back to the ground. Her muscles ached for contact, contracted in preparation for the resistance they would soon meet. With her thumb pressed tightly to her palm, Alyra coiled her fingers into a tight, white-knuckled fist. Her body felt ready. All she had to do was wait for the impact.

Some sort of emotion rushed through Alyra. It was a new feeling, one that the peaceful Eth couldn't explain. It bubbled beneath her skin, and frenzied her body. It felt like every part of her was just woken up. From her fingers to her toes, her mind to her heart...every piece of her was alert. She now was aware of the tension that connected her heel to her leg and sprung her forward. She now felt every stretched tendon straining to contain the confusion and commotion pulsing between her muscles. It was a feeling of awareness and connectedness that Alyra had never known to exist. Though her eyes were effectively shut, they were also quite, quite affectively open.

While the adrenaline pushed the tiniest details to the surface of Alyra's notice, it also pulled the more important ones away from her attention. Her gut, for example, no longer felt like the wind was just ripped from it. Her left arm stung no more. And her balance was cursory. Alyra wobbled as she stood on one foot, hoping that she would at the very least find her target.

Crack!

Alyra's eyes snapped open as her knuckles crashed into Hirem's skull. How...what?! Confusion flashed across her features as the man stumbled around her. How had she hit his head?! With his combined height and skills, Alyra was certain he would have dodged right out of the way. The best explanation, Alyra figured, was that her partner had tried to duck at an inopportune time.

The Eth watched with great concern. She wasn't quite sure what getting hit in the head would do to a person, but, judging by Hirem's response, she had a pretty good idea. She frowned, opening her mouth in order to ask if the man was okay. It wasn't until she reached out her hand to offer help that Alyra realized where the ominous sound had come from earlier. It was not from Hirem's head, but from her jammed thumb. The joints in her digit screamed in protest as it stretched. It sported a bright red mark. Sweet Syna, what is that?! Alyra gazed down at her hand, attempting to shake out the pain. She wondered at how her thumb could have been injured when it was tucked so safely inside her hand. Had Hirem's skull been that thick?

While she had been evaluating her hand, Hirem had apparently recovered; he dashed toward her, swerving from side to side. It wasn't until punches threatened her that Alyra was pulled back into the fight. Her arms flew up, and she braced for the pain. The pain came shooting in from a different place than she had expected, though. One of her legs collapsed beneath her, causing Alyra to let out a screech of surprise. In response, Alyra flung the opposite leg out. She straightened it out, and locked her knee. Hopefully, her kick would be as lucky as the last punch she threw was. Then maybe she would be able to scramble back to her feet and gain some sort of advantage.

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by **Hirem** on June 14th, 2014, 11:01 pm

She fell for his opening ruse, and Hirem's lashing foot found its target on the upper calf of one of her legs. Feeling a thrill of excitement as he watched the Ethaefal collapse halfway to the ground - success! - the Benshiran's elation was quickly cut short when Alyra responded with her own attack. He wasn't anticipating a kick, instead thinking that she might retaliate with an overhead strike, aim for another soft part of his head. She could give me a concussion, that would be fun to deal with for the second time this week. Too late to stop her from making contact, Hirem could only grunt painfully as Alyra's foot found purchase in his stomach, sending a quick flash of unbelievable pain throughout his body. He stumbled backwards, recoiling from the blow, his feet nearly tripping over the many roots that darted cunningly through the soil.

Trying to avoid a prolonged confrontation in close quarters, he did his best to create distance between him and Alyra, throwing his guard back up when the pain had subsided and he could think freely yet again. I didn't think it when I first saw her, but her attacks smart. With some more training, she could become quite adept at taking down big fighters like me. Remembering Riverfall's laws regarding the harassment of women, he wondered what this scene must look like to distant bystanders. I must look like I'm terrorizing poor Alyra... yet she also seems to be terrorizing me. Still wincing from the sharp knock upon his ear, Hirem took another firm step back from the Ethaefal, dropped his arms to his sides, and cracked his neck from side to side.

"You're unsure of what to do, but your instincts are good." He called out to her, nodding firmly. "Yes... and you punch hard enough to give you few moments of peace. That is very good." Taking a deep breath, the Benshiran readied himself for combat and closed the distance, sidestepping constantly and making sure that he kept her on edge. No need telling her where I intend to attack from. "But you have a problem," he said, keeping his gaze locked with hers. "I am no great warrior, yet even I know that this is a problem. You let others control the fight, and let them turn it against you. You can never do that."

As he advanced, Hirem used his superior weight to his advantage; making sure that he loomed in front of Alyra at all times and got closer and closer every second, he tried to intimidate her to step backwards using his own sheer size. "You need to seize control of the fight, make sure that it happens the way you want it to happen. You're fast, and you have the potential to be precise with your attacks. Make sure that you are always in the best, possible position you can be, at any moment. And if you are not, then work yourself into it." Though he himself was doubtful as to whether or not his advice would actually help Alyra, Hirem still confident in delivering it. I am growing to know a few things about combat... and if I know something, I am obliged to share it with those that need the information.

But that was enough talk for now. It was time to end this fight. Mustering up his strength and taking a low breath, the Benshiran, with a few mighty steps, lunged towards the Ethaefal and came at her with a flurry of blows, aimed at her stomach, at her arms, at her legs, hoping to disable her in one quick attack. He used his fists, his feet, his own bodily shoves - anything to bring Alyra down and demonstrate just what "controlling the battle" could mean.

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by **Alyra** on June 16th, 2014, 12:21 am

.

Alyra flung her arms forward in an attempt to regain her balance. Sadly, it was too late. The Eth fell to the ground with an a fairly loud thud. Thankfully, her hands had caught her enough to lighten the fall. Nothing was broken or cut, though pain pulsed through her hand again. That, and Alyra was pretty sure her face had grass stains, tiny green skid marks that would mark her defeat for the rest of the day, all over it.

In her calf, the muscles twisted painfully. It felt like a whirlpool was spinning viciously in her leg, tightening the muscles to the point where standing felt impossible. Alyra felt one hundred percent sure that whatever was happening to her leg was not natural, and not supposed to be happening.

Groaning, she pushed herself into a crouching position. Both her hands pressed against the grass for support. As Hirem spoke, Alyra found herself concentrating more on the pains throughout her body. If she hit with her right hand again, she feared that she would break something. At that moment, her leg was out of the game. Her stomach wouldn't be willing to digest anything for the rest of the season, at least. Good thing I don't need to eat...

Alyra absentmindedly nodded as she stood. Fatigue began to lace itself through her muscles, making those that weren't in pain ache for rest. The ground called up to Alyra, offering a lush, green bed to lay on. She wasn't giving up, per se. That didn't, however, mean that if Hirem happened to punch her again that she wouldn't fall to the ground and stay there.

Alyra brought her left hand up to protect her face, but left her right arm at her side. She leaned to one side, putting most of her weight onto her functional leg. As Hirem flew towards her, Alyra threw out a desperate punch.

Whether or not it hit, Alyra didn't know; the onslaught that followed made her punch feel like a drop in the bucket. If she wasn't done before, Alyra was moste definitely done now. Hirem landed two punches on her body, one on her left shoulder and one on her stomach. Right after that, a swift kick to her shin threw small lightening bolts of pain up her leg. As Alyra began to collapse, Hirem shoved into her with his body. This prevented her from catching herself with her hands, so she fell flat on her back.

She couldn't say it (all of the wind was knocked out of her lungs when she landed on her back), but she hoped Hirem understood the look on her face: they were done. He had won. It was time for Alyra to take a much-needed nap.

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by **Hirem** on June 18th, 2014, 6:44 pm

Alyra's last, desperate punch was not thrown in vain.

There was little that Hirem could do to stop it. Though he was far more trained in the art of combat than Alyra, he was yet only aware of a few disciplines, moves, and tactics to use in the middle of a brawl; his instincts were nowhere near the level of honed warriors. His brutish single-mindedness meant that he was only focused on aiming his strikes and carrying them forward with force, leaving him completely unaware of how his opponent was reacting. Alyra didn't manage to strike him - he walked right into her blow, looking downward at her stomach when he should have been watching her arms. For his troubles, the Benshira received a fist that rammed into his upper chest, striking just between his pectorals and knocking the wind from his chest. Consumed by his adrenaline rush, Hirem continued the onslaught without stopping, only fully realizing his pain after the Ethaefal hit the ground.

"Hik!" He gasped, stepping away from the fallen Alyra and putting a hand up to his stinging chest. The sharp blow had been dealt squarely between his ribs, making it difficult for him to breathe. Rubbing his torso firmly, trying to ease away the pain, the Benshira looked to his opponent and realized that the fight was, indeed, definitively over. I sought to end it, and I have. Now, I can only hope that I did not hurt her in my rush to finish the battle, I have not hurt her severely. He wondered if this was a mistake, and if he should not have called off the bout when he realized that Alyra was even more inexperienced with combat than he was. I learned how to fight from getting the shyke beaten out of me time and time again in the Burning Lands... but perhaps that has proven itself to be, in fact, not the best teacher?

Walking over to his beaten foe, feeling his body ache all over from the extended exercise, Hirem gracelessly sat himself down next to Alyra and hung his head low. "That'll be enough for today, yes?" Breathing raggedly despite himself, the Benshira glanced over to the Ethaefal and tried to assess the damage she had undertaken. "Are you well? Can you hear me?" Panic flashed through him then, at the thought of him damaging Alyra to the point where she could no longer breathe properly. That hand looks tender, and her leg seems to have completely gone numb on her. I cannot tell if she needs medical help or not, but better to be safe than sorry.

Pushing himself to his feet, fighting against his exhaustion with sheer determination, Hirem hobbled over to the woman, reached down, and hauled her off the ground. Letting her lean into his shoulder, he spoke comfortably as he led them down the nearby path. "If you aren't feeling well, we should go to the Gilia, yes? Skilled healers are there... they can tend to you. I am sure your - pet? - will follow us," he reassured, wondering what exactly the Common word for the feline was. "I am truly sorry, Alyra, if I have hurt you. It was never my intention. You fought well, and I presumed that you had strength enough to combat me... I fear I may have pushed you too far. Let me make amends however I can, yes?"

No matter what her response was, Hirem would not take no for an answer - using his superior weight to his advantage, he lifted the skinny Ethaefal off her feet, bundled her up in his arms, and set off towards the Gilia Medical Center. Thankfully, it was only down the street from Semele Park, so it would not take more than ten chimes to reach. Alyra's weight was difficult for him to bear - perhaps he should add load-lifting to his exercise routine? - but the Benshira grit his teeth and bore it anyway, challenging himself to continue despite the pain. He didn't think Alyra wasn't capable of taking herself to the Gilia for proper treatment, but he thought that this would be acceptable repayment for all the blows he had managed to land on her during their combat.

As he walked, he spoke quietly to Alyra, partly to pass the time and partly to try and get to know the woman he had just beaten down. "Why is it that you seek to learn how to fight?" He asked, glancing down at her with his bright brown eyes. "I train for combat because it gives me purpose in a place where I have none, and it will prepare me for the long journey ahead. Do you foresee a similar journey in your future? Is that what Syna has commanded of you?" He didn't even know if Syna was the sort of goddess that took an active interest in the world, and commanded her followers - he assumed that all Ethaefal must be her followers - to accomplish her will. For that matter, he didn't know much about the Ethaefal in general; he had believed them all to be extremely graceful and wise, based on his first meeting with Natalia, but Alyra proved to be much more grounded and human-like than his initial assumptions. Were the Ethaefal as diverse as mankind? The idea intrigued the scholar in Hirem.

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Closed Tests in Faith (Hirem)