Flashback Break with the past Part 4

[Karsynwa]

5th of Spring, 490 AV

The Sasaran was filled with the clattering of wood. Karsynwa lunged forwards with his wooden spear, striking the painted spot on the wall just below the breast. He was still yet unfamiliar with the weapon so he nearly dropped it when it jerked in his hand. After their little venture out onto the grass he had decided to pick up the spear as a part of his training, and it felt distinctly like he was here for the first time all over again. His movements felt ungainly as he got the distinct impression he was being watched. It was all in his head he knew. Such had been the case when he started practicing with the wooden Lakan. The bouts of nervousness and fear were familiar to him now. They would not master him.

He tightened his grip on the wooden spear by twisting his fingers around the wooden handle. Then he cast a side angled glance at one of his peers who was also training with the spear. Many of them were now with the lesson having sunk in. His peer pretended to duck a thrust then lunge with a strike of his own, the blunted tip bouncing high off the wall. Karsynwa took this all in quietly before trying his own maneuver. Trouble was, he was having a hard time getting past the feeling that this was distinctly not a Lakan. What his hands wanted to do was go back to that familiar grip, but instead they were forced into an awkward two handed hold on a weapon that wobbled as he held it.

Looking across his peers to one of the older Akalaks that was more familiar with the spear, he noticed that the man was holding the spear a third of the way up from the bottom which was quite different than Karsynwa’s own grip on the weapon. His hands were near the base so he tried mimicking the man’s methods for his next strike. It wobbled less now as he struck forward, and it almost felt balanced in his hands. He supposed some of the weight was in the end of it and that was the cause so he took a step back from the wall to test his assumption.

With his hand on the middle of the spear, he balanced it across in front of him for a few ticks as he subtly shifted his hand to keep it poised just across the top of his palm. The weight alternated between the two ends, confirming his thought and gripping the spear, he stopped its wobble. He held it again in his hands like he saw the man do, and wound his arms back for another strike. Better. At least it didn’t make him feel like he was going to trip over his own feet meddling with the thing. His pathing could still use some work so he decided to step back to work on that next. Right now all he could manage were predictable straight forward moves forwards and backwards so he wanted to try strafing out for a chime to see how difficult it was with a long weapon.

WC - 526

[Karsynwa]

Date, Season, Year

Gripping the spear tightly, he started by moving to the left, carefully sidestepping along a horizontal crease in the floor. To make matters more interesting, he tried keeping his toes against the line as he moved while keeping the spear held out in front of him ready to strike. It was a lot more difficult than it was with a Lakan, but that didn’t become immediately apparent until he tried to change the direction of his strafe. The impetus of the spear dragged at his hands, pulling the tip of the spear off center where he was trying to keep it as he moved. It was a disappointing development, but that just urged him to try, try again.

A few other of his peers caught on to what he was doing, and did something similar to his own process. No one wanted to be behind when it came time to square off with one another. Karsynwa certainly didn’t. He’d worked hard for his accomplishments with the Lakan and he was going to work as equally as hard with the spear even if it did feel a bit like a weapon for the soft at first. It was certainly less visceral than unarmed combat or the Lakan was, but there was something else going for it. Not only did it work out different muscles in his body, but it had a lot of utility as well. More than a defensive weapon, it gave him an offensive reach that offered him a unique opportunity to explore different tactics.

Out of the corner of his eye two of the adults started sparring with one another. One held his spear in an unusual manner, with the butt tucked under one arm that cupped it underneath in a secure hold. His other hand steered the spear gripping it further along the haft in an overhand grip. The other was using the grip Karsynwa was currently implementing. When the two met, the first Akalak backed up diagonally as the other thrust wide over his shoulder. Then, almost quicker than Karsynwa’s eyes could follow the man brought the tip of the spear down and across, hooking it behind the man’s leading leg. Then he extended it through the man’s legs with his other arms causing him to fall onto his back as he moved to dodge the attack. Karsynwa grinned slightly before quickly wiping the smirk from his face before either of the men saw him. He would have to remember to try that move some time though for the present, he was realistic enough to sense that move was beyond him. He was hardly comfortable enough with the spear to move side to side slowly, let alone attempt to thread it through someone’s legs and jerk them off their feet.

He paused in his practice to clap along with the spattering of applause around the room before everyone resumed their training. Karsynwa pulled his spear close to his body to resume his maneuver. It still pulled off center when it changed direction, but at least he was starting to anticipate it now.

WC - 516

[Karsynwa]

Date, Season, Year

His grip grew slick on the spear as he continued to practice so he took a brief break to rub a fine chalk across his hands. There was a small basin that they all used and from that spot in the corner of the room he was able to observe the rest practice their technique. A strange dance it was watching them flit about, stumbling into one another occasionally. The coarse sounds of their weapons striking each other, occasionally with softer impacts against leather armor. Growls from the students when the blows connected. It was musical in a way. He rejoined the fray with his spear held centered. With his grip feeling certainly a good deal firmer, he tried twisting about with the spear in his hand. With control over the head of the spear, he navigated it through a slow figure eight as he tried stepping left, then right repeatedly. He breathed in slowly into his nose and then out as he moved. Something clicked. What was it Zerous’ uncle had said?

Breath in through your nose and focus on which nostril the air was coming through. Think about how you are feeling in that present moment. Take note of that however do not dwell. Simply continue to drift in this relaxed state as you breath in and out. Karsynwa breathed in, recognizing the air coming in through his left nostril as he moved the spear through the slow motions. He felt lighter somehow, as if there was no longer as much tension along his arms from holding the spear aloft. The breath went out of him, and his movements slowed a fraction. What he was tracing in the air became all there was as he imagined the number floating before him. A brief calm washed over him till a student falling with a shout snapped him out of his meditation. He looked away to see the student rolling away from his opponent, spear abandoned. He wondered if one could actually roll with a spear in hand but resisted the urge to avoid looking foolish.

Instead he moved back towards the wall, and practiced gentle strikes against it as he had done before. He grouped them in series. Two. Four. Three. Two. Three. His transitions were still as slow as watching grass grow. Sighing, he tried to increase his pace by keeping to the same set of moves for every strike. It made him feel more predictable, but at least there was less lag between what he decided to do and the action itself. Occasionally he would try to strike with the butt of his spear though that worked out considerably worse. He almost wacked himself in the side of the neck several times with the maneuver so much so that he decided to discontinue it entirely. There was a ways to go still with this weapon before he could try ranging beyond simple maneuvers. Or even spar for that matter. Until he felt confident about striking this wall, he certainly wasn’t going to square up with a live opponent.

WC - 511

[Karsynwa]

Date, Season, Year

By now it had been around a bell of steady practice and his wrists were growing sore around the joints. His breathing was coming in harder, an his body was coated in a thick sheen of sweat. His sides ached something terrible. He balanced on the balls of his feet as he sent the spear forwards in a simple thrust. This time he did not hit the wall. Instead he was trying to see how close he could get to it without actually striking it which was a fair bit more difficult to determine whether he was doing it right or now. When he looked down the spear, he had a hard time figuring out just how close the tip was to the wall. That was a problem because that would come up in a spar where you were judged on how precisely you wielded your weapon. However no mater how he gripped the spear, or what angle he held it at, he couldn’t get a good view of how close the tip came. It was a problem with how it narrowed just out of his vision. Add to that the fact that it was a swiftly moving object and it became even harder to track.

In an effort to solve this issue, he hung one of the soft burlap sacks they used to practice one, and practiced striking it as lightly as he could manage. The sack was filled with dirt so he judged how hard he was hitting the object by how much push back there was from the sack when he struck it. He used the base of his spear occasionally to bounce the sack back into position towards the center of the wall when his strikes moved it too much out of place. This gave him a far greater return that just judging it off his eyes alone could. He got used to feeling the resistance when he struck it full forces several times in a row before he tried pulling his strikes.

Though there was a problem that he did not anticipate. His hands were numb from his continuous strikes so he found it difficult to gauge accurately subtle differences in his strikes. It was either not enough, or too much. There was very little in between that was not muddled. Gritting his teeth, he grew a little frustrated and decided to just unleash onto the back, striking it repeatedly with all he could muster. After a few chimes he found himself out of breath and leaning heavily on his spear as he watched the bag warily. He sought that place of quiet calm again, breathing in through his nose, deeper, deeper, the bag washing away into nothing he had any sort of association with. He felt somewhat pure even as he noted curiously that he was breathing through his right nostril now. As he continued to breath slowly he focused on releasing the tension in his shoulders which were bundled tight with pressure. He sighed and decided to give it another try.

WC - 508

[Karsynwa]

Date, Season, Year

This time he approached the bag making sure he stood farther apart from the target. He measured just how far he should stand apart by extending his spear horizontally between him and the wall. Then he walked into the reach till he was a quarter down the spear towards the target. Drawing the spear back, he couched in that way he’d seen the man do earlier, striking at the target by jerking his arm forwards. The underhanded movement was unfamiliar to him an the shot went slightly wide for his first strike. He’d need some more practice with that if he was going to use this grip in the future. First he would have to decide which grip he liked more as he would want to focus on one and stick with it. There was too much of a difference of coordination between them for him to swap easily between the two. He decided to give the underhanded grip a few more swings, at least until their practice was over.

One thing about the underhanded grip was that it allowed him to pair more upward force with his strikes. He had less control over lower strikes but he supposed that was what his other hand was for. The one with an overhand grip that ran halfway down the haft of the spear. He liked this grip far better as it gave him a finer control over the head though his coordination was still very off. His thrusts seldom hit where he wanted them to, and often skewed out of the way when he did land his strike. It was also a more exhausting grip as his lower stomach clenched with every strike. He was panting hard after a few chimes, so much so that he had to stop to catch his breath.

Just in time too as the rest of the class was wrapping up, and preparing to get dressed to leave the Sasaran. Cradling his spear gently in his arm, he brought it over to the rack and gently replaced it before going over to his own possessions. He put on his leathers slowly as he considered what he had felt today handling that spear. It wasn’t as enjoyable as the Lakan was to wield however he didn’t dislike it. Given its practicality in the trials ahead, he was determined to learn it even if he hadn’t liked it so this was a bit of a consolation prize that he kind of had an itch to try it out more. Speaking of an itch, there were other ideas on his mind today, like visiting Zandar at the library and checking with his professor about those speeches. His mind was supposed to be a weapon as well as his body, and he was keen to sharpen that sword. Breathing in through his nose he tried clearing his head, this time not to steady his strikes but to open his mind to studying. To focus on the task ahead of him without his mind wandering. Whenever he breathed in through his nose, it was still through the right nostril which was something he found himself starting to keep track of just in case he ran into Zerous’ uncle again. Perhaps he would pay him a visit to let him know how the meditative exercises had been going and how his own exploration of speeches had fared. Just add that to the bucket of things he knew he had to do today.

WC - 580