Closed A Walk to War[Madeira Craven]

[Moritz Craven]

15 Spring 520

Lying in bed, it took Moritz a bit before he realized he was awake. Rolling out of the bed he landed on all four limbs, slowly coming to a standing position and stretching his body.

As he did rise there was a bit of soreness to his limbs, growth pain he had been told. But then, he was growing quite fast in his human form, visibly having aged quite a bit since the season prior. At the end of the season he would be a year old, but now he appeared, in part due to being tall for his age, like he was about seven or so years old. He had also grown quite a bit for his size, leaving him looking even more stretched out and gangly than only a season ago.

It was one of the reasons he did not like wearing clothing, they never seemed to fit right for more than a few days in his mind. But then in truth Moritz did not like wearing human clothes at all, preferring the freedom and movement of his bare skin.

Unfortunately others seemed somewhat prudish about such things, and so he knew he needed to wear clothes.

Running off to make his morning ablutions, Moritz returned and put on some clothes. A pair of once loose fitting pants and a shirt that fit well enough for now. He was barefoot however, and would not put on those ugly foot holders unless he was made to. One could only be pressed so far about wearing clothes without kicking back a bit.

Drained of unneeded fluids and clothed to a degree, Moritz headed off to find his mother. Today was the day they were to go off and meet their planned combat teacher, if things went well. And it was something he was quite looking forward to, learning better how to fight and protect himself and others.

There was no time to waste, something Moritz thought to himself as he ran down a hallway with the quiet thud of his bare feet striking the floor as he moved.

"Mom! Its today! We need to go! Its time! You said we were going now!"

As he ran he saw a window out of the corner of his eye, his peripheral vision good even in his human form, and noticed the creeping of light out of the sky as the sun began to rise.

"Mom!"

[Madeira Dusk]

Madeira rolled into her pillow and groaned.

Moritz' bleating voice, loud and grating and insistent, echoed up the tall hexagonal manor and dragged her cruelly from her sleep. And it had been a sweet dream too. She pulled the pillow down over her head, trying to recapture it, but it floated away as consciousness overtook her, and she was left only an impression of skin the colour of nutmeg under her hands and a taste of blood on her tongue. Giving up, she threw her bedcovers aside and stretched. The house hummed its good morning as it noticed the movement, the curtains of the tall windows throwing back of their own accord and lancing long beams of watery morning light across the master bedroom that took up the top floor of the structure.

"What's he on about?", she mumbled through a yawn, listening to the cacophony of childish exuberance rising up from the floor below her.

The teacher, the watchful house explained patiently. Kyra of the Shinya.

Oh, right.

She had agreed to have Moritz take fighting lessons last season after a very uncomfortable heart to heart between the mother and son. She thought he was way too young for such a thing, but he seemed to think he was ready for the responsibility. She had come around eventually, deciding to show him her trust, though insisting they wait another season for him to grow and become more coordinated before they began. She trusted him to be mature about with this new, dangerous set of skills he was so anxious to learn, but she did not trust him to do so with all his fingers intact.

Knowing he would not stop trying to wake the dead until they were out the door, Madeira began the process of getting ready. She washed and dressed in her tiny private bathroom, erasing the purple under her eyes with powder and drawing it on her lips with paint, and scraping back her lank hair into a tight and elegant knot. By the time she opened the hatch door to the floors below she was unrecognizable to the woman who had rolled out of bed chimes ago. Holding the skirt of her lace dress aside she tapped down the spiral steps.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming", she met his noise sedately, rearranging the lay of the jewels across her throat and fingers. "Eat some breakfast before we go." Against her better instincts, she couldn't help but smile in the face of her child's excitement. She hoped Kira would be as impressed with the boy as she had shown last season. The woman seemed strict about who she would accept as her student, but Madeira had a certain motherly pride that smugly assured her that Moritz would be just fine.

She left the boy to figure out his own breakfast, having not a shred of domestic talent in her, and knowing he preferred food raw and vegan anyway. Instead she filled up her old waterskin for him at the hand pumped sink, and packed it along with a discreetly added roll of bandage linen and salve in her old beat up rucksack. Then, tying her red cloak about her neck, it was time to leave. Except for one small detail.

"Put on your shoes, you're not leaving without them", she nudged the footwear by the door towards him with the toe of her own boot. She was of the firm opinion that running around bear foot was fine as long as one was a toddler or a street urchin, of which her son was neither. "And grab whatever else you think you'll need."

As she opened the door an enormous cat-creature slunk inside. He studied Moritz and Madeira with his large yellow eyes and yawned theatrically, shaking dewy morning moisture off his sleek black coat.

"Spooks!", Madeira greeted cordially. "Good timing. We have somewhere to be on Sharai. Do you want to lead the way?" She would typically conscript Emma for such a task, but the creature would follow them as soon as they left the property anyway. Sometimes it was best to cut out the middle man.

"What's on Sharai? Besides fat field mice and slow birds."

"Moritz is about to meet his new combat teacher", she explained succinctly, before giving the creature the address the woman had given her the first time they met.

"That so?" the creature turned his bright eyes to Moritz, looking him up and down in a way only predators and judgmental old women really knew how. "About time. Not a kitten anymore, are you?" Without another word he turned and left through the open door, leading the way down the long cobble path and straight to Sharai.

[Moritz Craven]

Moritz was about to yell again, not sure if his mother was in her room or off somewhere else, when she responded. Moritz paused at the sound, for a moment, before taking off in the direction of the sound.

It took him a moment though, from the way it moved about in the house, and by the time he had located her she was already descending the stairs. His mother slowly descended, wrapped in bits of clothes and things of some purpose he did not understand or care too much about. It simply seemed excessive, but then his mother and so many humans did enjoy clothes. Moritz put up with clothes, to a degree, but only because he had to.

Unfortunately for some reason other people seemed quite obsessed with and prudish about clothes, which meant even if he did not care or understand he had to act in reaction to their expectation. Silly, but expected. And, he thought to himself, annoying, since they either hindered him changing to his other form or meant he would ruin the set of clothing.

Of course, that would just mean his mother would need to buy him more, which would be her own fault for making him wear the useless and annoying things.

Letting out a sigh at his mother who seemed to be so slow in all her actions, Moritz ran off to the kitchen to find something to eat.

Picking through various containers he managed to scrounge up a few items he would eat. A thick rind-ed fruit which he had to gnaw at to get through. And another item, a potato, which he ate plain and raw by taking bites out of it skin and all.

Not as nice as some of the other things he had eaten, but he supposed it would have to do. While he would have preferred the potato cooked he knew better than to ask, since even if his mother did cook it she would likely throw in something he would detest and end up not eating it. Better, he supposed, to just eat it raw and not complain. And while plain, they were decent enough even to his human mouth.

Everyone else in the house seemed unable to eat without throwing things in. Spices and butter and salt and more butter, whereas he preferred his food a bit plainer. But still cooked, if he could get it in his human form. In his Okomo form he did not care, and would eat more freely.

Moritz frowned at the requirement of wearing the footwear, little more than annoying feet cages made of leather, but silently put them on. He would just have to get rid of them the first chance he got. Perhaps he could ask the house to hide them later?

As it were he wore them loose, enough so he could easily slide them on and off without having to undo and do them all over.

At some point he would need to sort out all of these seemingly arbitrary rules his mother spouted at random, prising out the facts or lack thereof behind them. But arguing just then would do no good. However she did seem to have quite a few of them, which seemed to suit no purpose other than to please her and other people. Even if they made no sense, and served no purpose. He settled on glaring at his shoes before sullenly sliding them on, making sure to scuff them up once they left the house.

Moritz of course needed nothing else. In fact, he had too much already. He was practically imprisoned with all the clothing and shoes and things he was being made to wear. Perhaps then that was the point? If so, it was both rude, and annoying.

Finally as they were about to leave the cat came inside, carrying on with his mother. He had talked to a few other cats, but known seemed to deign to speak in return. Of course he could not tell if they were dumb, if their cat was smart, of if the other cats simply were rude and chose not to speak, but he supposed the outcome was the same.

Moritz met the cats eyes as it gazed at him, keeping the stare as he awkwardly walked in his covered feet. He did not like walking in them, and felt like he could not do so properly with them covering his feet. Rather like, at least he felt so, using a fork with the end covered. His mother seemed to have no trouble walking in hers, but then she had more practice he supposed in said covered walking.

"Not a kitten. I Okomo." Moritz spoke pointedly, as was common, once more bringing up his own nature.

Moritz followed along after the cat, turning to his mother as they left and he walked awkwardly out the door, to ask his first question of the day which he felt needed an immediate answer.

"How come I have wear shoes, but cat not? Make walk bad..."

[Madeira Dusk]

"It makes walking hard", she corrected patiently. Though he looked about seven years old, he was in reality barely one. The fact he was talking at all was a small miracle, grammar and diction issues aside.

Her gut reaction to the question was to simply state that if he didn't wear shoes his feet would be sliced to ribbons on the cobble streets, but she stopped herself, wondering if that was even true. The particularities of his race could have given him some hoary horned feet for all she knew, having not checked the soles of his feet since he had learned to wash himself and tie his own shoes. And since her stubborn child did nothing without a purpose and logic behind it, she would have to find another way to convince him not to run around half dressed. She refused to raise this new batch of Cravens to run wild in the streets.

"You have to wear shoes to fit in", she explained succinctly. "If you don't wear shoes on your feet and clothes on your body, if you don't wash regularly, you will stand out in the wrong way, and people may shun you... Like an Okomo being rejected from a herd", she smiled down at the boy. "Its very hard to get by without the aid of others, as you need them to hire and trade with you, and keep you company. So keep your shoes on, okay?"

Even so it was painful to watch his awkward steps in his too loose shoes. It was rather like putting wool socks on a dog, and he didn't seem to know what to do with them. Madeira sighed through her nose. There was a special kind of irony in Lhex giving someone who thrived in society a beastial child.

There was no trace of the snow from last season as the two of them followed the tall black tail of Spooks in front of them. Shy spring foliage was sprouting from barren planters and nodding at the ends of the skeletal trees, and Syna was peaking over the mountains to bless the dry cobbles with warm sunshine. The walk between peaks was pleasant and uneventful, the big city seeming to simply thin and spreading out as they moved from the bustling Zintia to the industrious Shinyama and finally the tranquil Sharai. Here the green touch of spring was on full display, the first of the wild flowers bursting through the many open fields and grassy areas. All around the tall, proud Okomo wandered and grazed, looking up at Moritz as he passed.

Here Spooks began mumbling to himself, his quick yellow eyes flicking back and forth as he lead them down increasingly twisting paths and stairs, until finally he stared hard at a basic little cottage on a fine little yard dotted with straw dummies and rather ripped and ruined grass. Vanishing in a puff of soulmist, he reappeared on a short brick plinth that marked the edge of the property.

"This is it", he drawled lazily, raising a wickedly spiked paw to lick dust from between his toes.

Well, it looked about right. Madeira opened the latch on the gate and ushered Moritz through.

"Go on, knock. And introduce yourself when she answers", she squeezed the boy on the shoulder to bestow the confidence he surely didn't need as she urged him toward the door. At this hour in the morning the ex Shinya was surely still home.

[Moritz Craven]

Moritz considered his mothers words, frowning at her response. Looking down at his own feet as he walked and back to meet her gaze, he considered her words.

If anything, the inverse seemed true, since walking with shoes on was harder than without. His feet could grip and touch and feel far better than his blind shoe covered feet. Then he realized she was not answering him, but correcting what he had said. Makes me walk bad. Makes walking hard. Still, he was not sure he agreed, but simply pushed the thought aside for the moment. He was still learning the ins and outs of common, and he was not going to argue over the certain words he should use. She got what he meant, he felt, which was the entire point of talking.

Her second answer seemed at least to be an answer, though not a very satisfying one. You wore shoes because people expected you to wear shoes. To fit in, one wore shoes, because people wore shoes. Human people, like his mother, missing their other half of their Kelvic nature.

Considering her words Moritz mulled them over before responding to her response.

"People, ride Okomo bout city, yes? Okomo, help people. Do things. If want climb place, ride Okomo. Is maybe people need Okomo more Okomo need people. Okomo just go, eat things, no people. No Okomo, people not get up place."

"If people not like, are mean people, cuss not wear shoe. Seem maybe they bad people, not one not shoe on."

For a moment Moritz mind wandered, pictured him jumping off in long bounds up a steep cliff, nibbling some tasty plants, and being free of annoying people. But then his eyes refocused, and he concentrated back on where he was going and his mother.

Moritz walked along with his mother and their cat, focusing on the path before them. While he became a bit more coordinated as they walked, it still felt awkward as his feet simply did not move right when covered. How did humans know where to step if they could not feel the ground? Having his feet covered, it was like walking with his eyes covered, which meant he much more often had to watch where his feet were going when walking than his mother and others.

Muttering under his breath, though loud enough his mother would likely hear, Moritz spoke again as they walked.

"Is walking with feet blind..."

As they walked he met the eyes of a few Okomo, raising his eyes to meet their proud gaze when they looked his way, but mostly he just focused on the ground and where he was going. He could not smell them properly in this form, but he was sure they could smell the Okomo on him just as he would be smelling it on them were he in his other form.

When they finally reached their destination it seemed to be a small humble abode, at least by Lhavitian standards.

At his mothers behest he walked forward to the door, and knocked smartly. There was a short wait before someone came to the door, opened by a woman he had seen the season prior.

"I am Moritz. Am Okomo. Am here, train. Learn."

[Madeira Dusk]

The woman at the door looked as fresh and alert as though she had been up for bells already. Kyra wore a relaxed belted tunic rather than the furs and leathers of their earlier encounter, but everything from her lined, nut-brown skin to the long iron grey braid down her back remained the same. She looked down at the little pastel haired boy on her doorstep, him frowning and serious as he stated he was here for training in his broken common, then looked over his head at Madeira hovering at the end of her garden path.

"This yours?"

Madeira pinched the bridge of her nose. "Yes. Forgive him, he's not fluent in the social art."

The ex Shinya looked between them for a moment before the light of recognition began to gleam in her eyes. "You're the two from the Alluvion Academy, I remember. The boy with the not bad arm." She chuckled, taking a step back and looking him over from head to toe. "Though I remember you being much smaller, boy."

Kyra flicked her braid behind her shoulder and folded her arms, looking up at Madeira who had joined Moritz at the door. "So you've taken my offer huh? You two want to see if this boy can earn a place as my student?"

Madeira pulled back her shoulders, her head lifting proudly. "He's young, but he's strong and determined. He'll make a great student."

"We'll see. Come in, Moritz. I was just about to start practising with my hook sword myself." She ushered the boy into her home but stopped Madeira when she made to follow.

"Not you, Miss Craven. Having an overprotective mom around is not the best for a boy's confidence or abilities. Come back in a bell, and if he has the right potential, we'll talk."

"Excuse me?" Madeira challenged, raising a brow. Did this woman really think she was going to let her little boy... Her expression wiped clean when she rolled back that train of thought, realizing it just proved the woman's point. She would just be in the corner fidgeting and worrying the whole time. If she was going to demonstrate her trust in her child, this was the time.

Gritting her teeth against every instinct, she took off her rucksack and pushed it into Kyra's hands. "I'll be back in a bell", she agreed reluctantly. Looking down at Moritz she smiled, masking her worry. "Train hard, okay? Show Shallon what a Craven can do", she nodded encouragingly and made to leave, her expression falling into one of motherly anxiety the moment her back was turned.

[Moritz Craven]

Moritz shrugged at the womans comment, answering simply enough regarding his new height.

"I grew."

Simple, honest, and to the point. Of course the entire truth was more complicated, related to his enhanced growing speed as a Kelvic and his other form as an Okomo, but technically his answer was truthful and answered the questioned growth.

As the two spoke, it became clear that this woman was more speaking to his mother at the moment than him, something that annoyed the young kelvic.

When finally addressed and asked to enter Moritz simply nodded and headed inside, noticing the womans feet were bare. Well, mostly bare. The bottoms of her feet above her toes were wrapped in some kind of thin white clothe, said toes poking out bare, with the rest up to her heel wrapped.

As the woman continued talking with his mother Moritz moved off to the side and began removing his shoes, finding a spot where he saw some other shoes place- likely the womans.

Apparently she only wanted Moritz to enter, and wanted his mother to leave while they trained. Moritz was fine with this, he did not need his mother there. After all, he was the one training, not her. What good would having her stand there and watch be?

As his mother made to leave and made her entreaty Moritz nodded to her. "I will. Will do best."

As his mother turned and left the woman shut the door, and then set the pack she had been handed off to the side near the shoes. She motioned for Moritz to follow which he did silently, heading into an open space with a smooth and clean floor. Off to the side he could see several racks full of wooden weapons, and some odd hanging thing on the wall. As the woman moved to place two weapons on this, the long hooked blades she had been wearing, he realized this was some sort of wall mount.

Turning to Moritz she smiled, considering the small boy.

"Now that she is gone, we can get started. First thing first, lets see how you move. Come at me, and try to hit me or knock me down."

Moritz paused for a moment, but only a moment. The woman seemed to just be standing, not doing anything or preparing, but clearly she was ready since she had ordered Moritz to attack. Pushing off with his bare feet, not horned or such as his mother had thought though with a thick callus across the bottoms, Moritz charged directly at the woman.

She did not move until Mortiz was only a few feet away. When she did her motion confused Moritz eyes. One moment he was almost upon her and she was standing there. The next she was standing beside him and had raised a single foot. Rather than kicking him she shoved him with it, sending him crashing to the ground in a heap. He tried to roll, but only partly succeeded in this, ending up resting on his back.

Not quitting so soon Moritz quickly gathered his wits and rose to his feet.

With a smile the woman looked down at Moritz, nodding her head.

"Thats more like it, no quitting now. A real warrior does not quit. Its not important that you never fall down, its important that you get up each time you go down."

WC: 566

[Moritz Craven]

As Moritz got to his feet he inspected the woman, who seemed to be smiling and enjoying herself. He supposed though he would not want a teacher who did not like doing what they taught.

"Call me Kyra, young Moritz. Now, how old are you?"

Moritz thought for a moment, before responding. "Birthday, first of spring. Turn year old. So... Bit over year."

Kyra considered for a few moments, before responding in turn. "Right, Kelvic. As you said, you are an Okomo. And a year old Okomo would be... Well this. Makes sense. You know, when I served, I used to ride an Okomo in combat. They are mighty steads, smarter than many give them credit for or understand. But still, some more than others. Lets see what sort you are. Come at me again. This time if you fall, try to roll with the impact. Proper rolling is important."

As Kyra stood seemingly motionless, Moritz prepared for a moment, before rushing at the woman again. While she was fully grown, Moritz was not. Tall for his age he might be, but even with that the woman towered over Moritz.

This time Moritz prepared for the foot, readying his hands to grab them as he charged. Once more she did not move till he was almost upon her, but this time she aimed low and as she sidestepped stuck out one foot. Moritz carried his motion forward and tripped over her limb, as she intended, only just whipping his hands forward to land on them rather than his face.

Other than that he did little to stop the blow of the impact, caught off guard by the surprising low attack.

It was then Moritz realized, touching the ground with his palms, that the floor was padded. Or softened to some degree by something placed across it.

Having landed on his knees and palms, Moritz quickly popped back to a standing position, turning to face Kyra. Not waiting this time for her direction Moritz charged off at once.

Kyra simply smiled at this, but made no greater motion than this until he neared. This time he kept his body spread out, one hand up and one hand down near his hips in preparation for tackling her.

Once more Kyra moved in a confusing blur. Her hand grabbed at Moritz wrist, while her leg did something with his feet. One moment he was standing, the next he was soaring through the air and flipping head over feet in a motion he could not have done without direction.

As his back struck the ground flat the air burst out of Moritz lungs, and he was left struggling to breath in for several breaths before any seemed to enter his body.

"You are too free with energy. Any energy or motion you give to your foe they can use against you. All I did there was redirect your forward motion into a flip, and you did most of the work that landed you there on your back. Consider that next time."

This time it took Moritz a bit longer to stand up. But after a chime or so he had caught his breath to a degree, and slowly rose to his feet.

Kyra simply smiled at him as he rose.

WC: 546

[Moritz Craven]

While Moritz stood and finished catching his breath, Kyra headed to the wall and took one of the weapons down she had put up.

"This is a hook sword, or a tiger hook sword. Its meant to be used against other weapons, for capturing and catching and things, unlike a normal sword which is more about offense. Attacking."

As she spoke Kyra pointed at parts of the weapon in turn.

"This is the hilt, the part you hold. It is the only part of this weapon that is not a weapon. The base of the hilt here extends downward, as a smaller blade for stabbing and such. And this part here covers the hands from blows that might slide down a sword as two connect. That way your hand and fingers don't get lopped off. In itself it is a crescent shaped blade, the inside curve a cutting surface, while each end is a point for stabbing. This part here which connects the main line to the outer hand cover can work to catch blades as they slide down the main blade. The main blade itself is sharp, and can be used like a normal sword blade. And the end is a hook, a weapon for attack and also used to grab or pull at things. Like other weapons people are using."

Pointing once more Kyra ran through the parts of the weapon.

"The handle, and the inside of the hand cover crescent blade across from the handle. Everything else is sharp, and can be used as a weapon."

Once she was done explaining the weapon Kyra returned it to the wall, heading over to the small rack full of wooden weapons. Taking out a full sized weapon and a smaller copy which besides being smaller was almost identical, Kyra held one and handed the smaller one to Moritz.

"As you can see, this is more or less shaped like the hook sword. Except it is wooden, and blunted. No sharp points, everything is dull and rounded. So you won't lose any fingers, or get stabbed. Though getting hit will still hurt. Understand?"

Moritz nodded, simply replying with "Yes Kyra".

"Now, rather than directly fight, I want you to copy my motions exactly. Stand behind me ten feet away, here or so, and copy my motions."

Working as a object for Moritz to mirror, Moritz watched and copied. First she made a slow slash horizontally, at the waist. Then a vertical. slice down the middle. Then a diagonal cut across the body from shoulder to hip. Then a forward thrust with the rounded hook tip. As she did each movement she counted. One. Two. Three. Four. After doing each one slowly twice in turn, she sped up. One. Two. Three. Four. Across down, diagonal, out.

Once she had done this about ten times she turned around, and watched Moritz. This time though she only called out the numbers, expecting him to continue. He did as he had seen her do. One, two, three, four. Four simple movements.

As he began his second repetition of this, she stepped forward and made a strike as he made his copied move. As he swiped across she stabbed forward, having her blade knocked aside. As he swiped downward she struck across, and once more had her blow knocked aside. Clearly this was her intent, as she timed them to do this.

His diagonal strike lightly struck her sword as she swung upward. And then she held the sword close to her body as he shoved forward. As she did she moved the blade, so that the hook of his sword would catch her own, pulling it away from the body.

Several simple moves, and showing how each could be used against a different attack. Staged, but still enlightening.

WC: 634

[Moritz Craven]

Moritz and Kyra continued their work for the rest of the bell, changing between weapons and unarmed in turn, with a bit of acrobatics mixed in.

At one point she had Mortiz simply roll, aiming his forward movement so that he went down on one shoulder and then rolled head over heels in a ball, before landing back on his feet.

It took several tries at this before he had some level of skill, and could land facing the same way or without falling over.

"If you get hit, roll with it. Sometimes you will get hit. But if you go with the motion, roll with it, the impact will be diminished and the enemies blow will help power you away from them."

After this she had Moritz feign being struck, lightly tapping him with her own dulled impacts, so that he could roll and react with them. Sometimes he jumped back as directed. Other times he pushed and spun off and away. Sometimes he rolled and tucked. Regardless he kept in motion, and did not just stand there and take the blow. Instead he reacted as she instructed, or if he did not understand her words showed with a demonstration.

By the end Moritz was breathing heavily and sweating from the work. Kyra on the other hand seemed little worse for wear.

As they finished up she had Moritz mirror her again, this time in a series of stretches.

"If you can, you should stretch before and after a workout. It helps keep you limber, and from things locking up afterwords if strained."

Moritz followed her stretches as she made them. Bending his knees and shifting his weight. Bending down to touch his toes while keeping his back straight. Flexing his arms and bending them over each other. His elbows, knees, wrists, feet. Even his neck. Each in turn were stretched, during the "cool down" as Kyra called them.

They were finishing such things up when the bell indicated to Madeira arrived.

WC: 333