.
Even the cool air felt odd that day. Theo hadn’t had a day to himself in what seemed like ages. The personal days that Theo had claimed he had always found himself following someone else's direction. It wasn’t the same, even if the commands coincided with what he wanted. Theo’s heart always craved it, what it was he couldn’t tell, but being able to choose, really choose, how he spent his day felt close to it.
So he took the day truly to himself, it hadn't occurred to him he did it out of spite. Squires were supposed to spend their free time growing accustomed to the duties and endurements of knighthood whichever way they could. Not Theo. He felt ashamed at his curiosity of the upper heights of knighthood or knighthood itself, the only appeal it ever had to him was power. Sick power, he wanted the things his superiors had. It was now Theo realized that these thoughts had put him in subtle competition with his compatriots, even Lester, the knight who elevated him to squirehood and saved him poverty.
Such thoughts were sickening. Freedom from the anxiety of structure was all Theo wanted, but could he take that step? He kicked the dirty snow and the packed white hardly budged. If he was to change things for others, make other realize the faults of this loss of freedom, if he even could, it would be hard doing it in a suit of loaned armor.
Looking up, the sky was all full of clouds and gray-white. Where Syna tried to shine through only she knew, it was impossible to tell the time of day. Despite that, the trees offered hope as they began to show their trunks. No leaves grew yet, but any hopeful soul knew it was only a matter of time. Theo had half a mind to invite Rielly out there, but she was caught up in knightly politics in her own way as well. Best to spend the day alone, searching the frozen wastes for a piece of sanity.
But the day wouldn’t let that be. Down the ill-beaten path off the south road Theo heard footsteps. His ears may not have been keen with his mind in his thoughts, but it was the fast feet of the walker that caught his attention. Upon turning, Theo could see a woman ill dressed for Winter coming towards him at an alarming rate.
“Stop! Who are you?” Theo questioned when he saw the short blade in the woman’s hand.
She kept pushing. No words.
It was as she closed the distance Theo instinctively began to draw his res. He had quite a few moments between her approach, and Theo pooled the res into an orb the third the size of his palm. Theo held the orb in the air in front of him to an astonishing lack of reaction.
“Stop or I’ll use it.” Words like those felt empty, despite whatever truth they held then. In both of their minds they had their own idea of how it was supposed to end. And so Theo lit the ball aflame and cast it at his threatening rival. His platemail was hardly any reason to be cautious, he thought, a blade in the right spot meant his end despite the rest of the bulky steel.
The woman, however, was seemingly unphased and merely sidestepped the bolt, not even stopping her slow, foreboding walk. It was now Theo wished he had more skill in his magic, but wishing was pointless.
The next item in Theo’s arsenal was his rope dart. He had no experience with the dart and chain, but Theo was pulling out his last stops for his fearless target. Unfamiliar even with its use, Theo grabbed the blade and chain that hung from his hip, holding the end of the chain out with his left. Using his right, Theo threw the dart overhand at his now foe once, twice, and three times, all to no avail. The first fell to air, and the second deflected with a swipe of her short blade. The third, Theo thought he might of had a chance to catch her in the legs and sweep her, but then he remembered the point and chain was only sixteen feet long.
She was within sixteen feet.
Quickly hurrying his sword, Theo stood one foot forward as he gripped the cold iron’s leather grip. When she was about five feet away, the lady charged. Theo could see her now, she had blonde hair that hid piercing eyes of blue. She bellowed out as she rushed Theo. A quick strike over the top was customary for a charging warrior, and Theo twisted his grip and crossed the blade sideways, catching the blade over his head.
She came off the recoil and tried to swipe at Theo’s side, more towards his wrist. Theo raised his grip and twisted to point the swords down towards the ground, pushing back to not yield to the strength of the blow. Steel rang again and Theo held true a consecutive time.
The two ejected from the clasp, the female jumping backwards. Theo looked past her and into her soul, a squint straining his brow. Her hair was dirty in color, straight down to her bosom, and was cat-fur fine. One eye saw him clean, the other she peered through a break in the streaks at Theo, holding her short sword out with one hand just under her chin. Light freckles dotted her face, and her long sleeve brown tunic would of had her mistaken for any other peasant, just not this time of year.
Theo’s opponent began to sidestep, and the two eventually found themselves in a duelist's dance around a patch of snow. Theo made a conscious act not to put one foot in front of the other, rather keeping them parallel at most. It was bad nature to cross ones body in battle, it rendered you immediately vulnerable in any combat situation. This was most likely his opponent’s precise ploy. Then she stopped, as well as Theo.
“Do I get a name at least, miss?” Theo smiled, trying to extend some battlefield honor.
She rejected Theo’s middle ground, and charged in, slashing at Theo’s blade with both hands. The young squire caught the strike, but his might did not come quick enough. The short sworded fighter quickly drove down to Theo’s crossguard and stripped him of the blade, sending it sliding off on the smooth snow of the woods.
Thinking quickly, Theo, inexperienced as he was, grabbed the woman’s sword arm. She immediately grabbed his wrist, and twisted it a little past straight, sweeping Theo’s legs. The ground slipped out from under him, and Theo was knocked onto his bottom. He had been beaten.
Eighty-fourth of Winter, 515 AV
Even the cool air felt odd that day. Theo hadn’t had a day to himself in what seemed like ages. The personal days that Theo had claimed he had always found himself following someone else's direction. It wasn’t the same, even if the commands coincided with what he wanted. Theo’s heart always craved it, what it was he couldn’t tell, but being able to choose, really choose, how he spent his day felt close to it.
So he took the day truly to himself, it hadn't occurred to him he did it out of spite. Squires were supposed to spend their free time growing accustomed to the duties and endurements of knighthood whichever way they could. Not Theo. He felt ashamed at his curiosity of the upper heights of knighthood or knighthood itself, the only appeal it ever had to him was power. Sick power, he wanted the things his superiors had. It was now Theo realized that these thoughts had put him in subtle competition with his compatriots, even Lester, the knight who elevated him to squirehood and saved him poverty.
Such thoughts were sickening. Freedom from the anxiety of structure was all Theo wanted, but could he take that step? He kicked the dirty snow and the packed white hardly budged. If he was to change things for others, make other realize the faults of this loss of freedom, if he even could, it would be hard doing it in a suit of loaned armor.
Looking up, the sky was all full of clouds and gray-white. Where Syna tried to shine through only she knew, it was impossible to tell the time of day. Despite that, the trees offered hope as they began to show their trunks. No leaves grew yet, but any hopeful soul knew it was only a matter of time. Theo had half a mind to invite Rielly out there, but she was caught up in knightly politics in her own way as well. Best to spend the day alone, searching the frozen wastes for a piece of sanity.
But the day wouldn’t let that be. Down the ill-beaten path off the south road Theo heard footsteps. His ears may not have been keen with his mind in his thoughts, but it was the fast feet of the walker that caught his attention. Upon turning, Theo could see a woman ill dressed for Winter coming towards him at an alarming rate.
“Stop! Who are you?” Theo questioned when he saw the short blade in the woman’s hand.
She kept pushing. No words.
It was as she closed the distance Theo instinctively began to draw his res. He had quite a few moments between her approach, and Theo pooled the res into an orb the third the size of his palm. Theo held the orb in the air in front of him to an astonishing lack of reaction.
“Stop or I’ll use it.” Words like those felt empty, despite whatever truth they held then. In both of their minds they had their own idea of how it was supposed to end. And so Theo lit the ball aflame and cast it at his threatening rival. His platemail was hardly any reason to be cautious, he thought, a blade in the right spot meant his end despite the rest of the bulky steel.
The woman, however, was seemingly unphased and merely sidestepped the bolt, not even stopping her slow, foreboding walk. It was now Theo wished he had more skill in his magic, but wishing was pointless.
The next item in Theo’s arsenal was his rope dart. He had no experience with the dart and chain, but Theo was pulling out his last stops for his fearless target. Unfamiliar even with its use, Theo grabbed the blade and chain that hung from his hip, holding the end of the chain out with his left. Using his right, Theo threw the dart overhand at his now foe once, twice, and three times, all to no avail. The first fell to air, and the second deflected with a swipe of her short blade. The third, Theo thought he might of had a chance to catch her in the legs and sweep her, but then he remembered the point and chain was only sixteen feet long.
She was within sixteen feet.
Quickly hurrying his sword, Theo stood one foot forward as he gripped the cold iron’s leather grip. When she was about five feet away, the lady charged. Theo could see her now, she had blonde hair that hid piercing eyes of blue. She bellowed out as she rushed Theo. A quick strike over the top was customary for a charging warrior, and Theo twisted his grip and crossed the blade sideways, catching the blade over his head.
She came off the recoil and tried to swipe at Theo’s side, more towards his wrist. Theo raised his grip and twisted to point the swords down towards the ground, pushing back to not yield to the strength of the blow. Steel rang again and Theo held true a consecutive time.
The two ejected from the clasp, the female jumping backwards. Theo looked past her and into her soul, a squint straining his brow. Her hair was dirty in color, straight down to her bosom, and was cat-fur fine. One eye saw him clean, the other she peered through a break in the streaks at Theo, holding her short sword out with one hand just under her chin. Light freckles dotted her face, and her long sleeve brown tunic would of had her mistaken for any other peasant, just not this time of year.
Theo’s opponent began to sidestep, and the two eventually found themselves in a duelist's dance around a patch of snow. Theo made a conscious act not to put one foot in front of the other, rather keeping them parallel at most. It was bad nature to cross ones body in battle, it rendered you immediately vulnerable in any combat situation. This was most likely his opponent’s precise ploy. Then she stopped, as well as Theo.
“Do I get a name at least, miss?” Theo smiled, trying to extend some battlefield honor.
She rejected Theo’s middle ground, and charged in, slashing at Theo’s blade with both hands. The young squire caught the strike, but his might did not come quick enough. The short sworded fighter quickly drove down to Theo’s crossguard and stripped him of the blade, sending it sliding off on the smooth snow of the woods.
Thinking quickly, Theo, inexperienced as he was, grabbed the woman’s sword arm. She immediately grabbed his wrist, and twisted it a little past straight, sweeping Theo’s legs. The ground slipped out from under him, and Theo was knocked onto his bottom. He had been beaten.
