[The Courtyard of the Sky] Catching Breath (Open)

[Tyrie]

13th of Winter, 510AV

A lone figure sat perched on the edge of one of the platforms. Despite the cold breeze that was now blowing through the vast crater she called home. Stretching up across her left arm was the red leather of her Vinati and Sontav. The bracer usually found adorning her right arm was cast aside on top of her dark Katinu. Despite this, around her neck was wrapped her silk scarf. It was a red scarf but held a similar pattern to the leather that bound her chest and arms. It was also embellished with golden stitching.

The flaming red locks that sat atop her head were pulled back, wrapped up in to a ponytail. The orange and white ribbons that had become as much a part of her as her breath were woven in to the tail also. It danced as the wind caressed it lovingly. Her green-gold eyes watched several children play chase in the courtyard. A smile crossed her face. She could recall the times she had such innocent joy. But she would not deny the younglings of such fun.

Her eyes shifted to the blade that lay on her lap. Taking her cloth in hand against, she continued to polish the blade. The snow would be coming soon and she wouldn’t have as much need for this. During the winter, she did all of her hunting with a bow. Taken up with an Endal she would be dropped on a high perch, waiting to spring an ambush on their prey. In the spring and summer months, she sometimes needed the blade to fight off the more aggressive predators.

It was her day off today, a day of rest and one that she never spent resting. There was always too much to do as an Inarta. Today, for example, she would spend time practicing with her Talon Sword for a few hours then head down to the Lakes later on to train with her bow. In all honesty, that was a relaxing day for her. There was no pressure other than what she put on herself so she could take enjoyment from it. Even if the goal was to better herself for the good of her people.

She gave a thought, as she looked skywards an Endal and their Eagle swooping overhead. She did not really know what was beyond the walls of her home. Maybe she could make a trip down to see Whisper. The Konti usually had some knowledge of the other races, or maybe Val would be able to tell her more. She gave a short giggle. She was sure there were spectacular sights to see but nothing could compare to life here.

[Sairque]

Check out the Calendar of Events for weather and relevant info Of course, I did ask you to change the timestamp, soooo…

The knife clattered to the stone floor of the corridor…again. Not missing a beat, Sai swooped down and scooped the blade up for the fourth or fifth time. The trip from the kitchens, where she had enjoyed a leisurely meal in one of the private rooms, up to her chambers was taking an inordinate amount of time due to this little diversion. It was a necessary activity, however, this distracting of herself. The skies were clear for the moment, but the storm would return and freeze the wings of any Eagle caught within its grasp.

Being restricted to the mountain wasn’t her problem. It wasn’t even Catabasis’ yet. The Eagle was still sore and tired from their return trip, and it was making him a very cranky boy. It was this dark mood, lingering like a thin fog over her mind, that she sought reprieve from. It was manageable at the moment; Catabasis had yet to need a meal brought to him. When he could no longer live off the last tuna kill, that was when Sai would tuck herself away in her chambers and wait for their moods to clear.

For now, she got to take the focus off his seeping grumpiness by trying not to slice her hand open. The knife spun into the air, turning slowly end over end while narrowed yellow eyes tracked the motion of the handle. Descending, a scarred hand reached forward to pluck it from the air. Blade inches from the soft flesh of her hand, Sai retracted her grasp, letting the metal clank to the floor again. It was all about timing.

It bounced and rolled to the side of the empty corridor. Not many people were walking out along the exterior portions of their city, and this particular passage opened up into the Courtyard of the Sky. Curious as to the weather and snowfall, Sai scooped and snagged the blade up with a sudden change of direction. Slipping between the stone walls, knife tucked away into one green sash, she peeked her head out into the Courtyard.

The temperature was manageable, if not ideal, for someone garbed in a brief green vinati and silky thin white bryda. At least she had pulled on her soft ankle high leather boots before leaving the aerie this morning. The difference between the volcanic heat seeping throughout the entire mountain and the wind blasted chill brought bumps to her weakly sun darkened skin. Roughly scrubbing her warm palms over her arms, she stepped out into the open.

The area was surprisingly clear of snow, and even a few Yasi had ventured out. In the heat of their vigorous game, katinu’s were discarded piles dotting the carefully shaped stone floor. Eyes, narrowed against the significantly brighter light, fell on the lone adult sharpening her Talon Sword. Tyrie. They had hunted together several times. Being roughly the same age, they had also spent a lot of time together in various classes.

“Avora,” she called to get the woman’s attention. “Hunter. How long as the weather been clear?” Sai glanced away, up toward the long Eagle wheeling through the skies. Foolish. She peered up at the figures. One of the younger pairings. Freshly bonded this spring. They suddenly straightened and raced up toward the aeries.

Younglings deserve to get that which was coming to them, Catabasis abruptly cut through her thoughts with his bitter presence. You should have let them learn their lesson.

But darling, you’re the one that took the initiative. I simply noticed their stupidity, she returned with no outward sign that she was having a conversation. She had no doubt that the pair had gotten an earful precisely outlining their mental acuity from the volatile elder Eagle.

He grumbled something, half formed thoughts that only attained shape due to the swirl of cantankerous emotions fueling them. Though her warm smile was for her favorite mental companion, she was looking at Tyrie as she casually closed the distance between them.

[Tyrie]

Snow still lingered in the nooks and crannies where the Drek were loathed to clean. But for the most part, the enclosed nature of the Courtyard and the Mountain’s natural heat had kept the worst of the snow away until this briefest of breaks. There was little doubt the snows would be back in full force within a few beats of an Eagle’s wing. Almost as if Morwen had been listening to the briefest words spoken by the Endal, flakes began to fall. Tyrie clicked her tongue. Archery might have to wait until a break in the snow again, if there was any. She had held a naïve hope that the snowstorm had passed but she was wrong of course.

Tyrie’s eyes looked up from her work as the Endal called out to her. Tyrie’s keen gaze picked out the telltale signs of who called. She caught the scar on the Flight Leader’s hand. She needed little else to tell who was addressing her. The story of how Sairque had earned her scar was known to most and usually exaggerated beyond the truth. But what good story wasn’t? In all truth, Tyrie envied Sairque. They were separated by but a few winters but the Endal was a Flight Leader while Tyrie had yet to bond with an Eagle her own. But she also held a good deal of respect for the woman. She had flown with her and Catabasis once or twice during hunts. She had watched the woman work and she could lead her flight with great ease. She was also a far better climber when it came down to it.

“Long enough for one Rider to brave it and change his mind,” Tyrie replied with a smile and nod of respect. “In all honesty, Endal, I have no clue. I have a feeling, Morwen simply wanted to gather more strength so she could hit us harder. It has not been long enough to get any hunting done.” There was yelp of pain from below them and then laughter as the younglings continued to play their merry game despite the snow. Tyrie waited for a moment as the Yari got to his feet and continued. Any other child would have maybe cried, but an Inarta was strong, no matter how young.

Tyrie thought back a moment to the times she had spent hunting. As she recalled, Sairque was skilled with her Longbow but had little skill in a melee weapon of some description. But of course, what use did an Endal have for such weaponry? In an archery contest, Tyrie knew they would draw equal. Whether hunting from sky or ground, using a bow was essential, although they used opposite bows from what you would expect. The Longbow was commonly seen in use by footmen where as a Recurve was used mounted. Riding an eagle, things changed. The Inarta had learnt to use both. But for climbing and the mountaineering that Tyrie regularly took part in, a Recurve was smaller and easier to manage.

Satisfied with her work, Tyrie stood from her ledge. Sairque stood ever so slightly taller than herself but the fire red hair made Tyrie stand out far more from the darker colour of Sairque. Taking her blade firmly in her right hand, she made a few simple swings. The weapon sang as it moved. She was far from her Mother’s level of skill with a blade but the grace was beginning to show through. With a satisfied grunt, she sheathed the blade at her waist. “You look a little chilled. Perhaps a little work out would help?” It was blunt but Tyrie had little want to beat around cloud as usual.

[Sairque]

Thick braid dangling near her hip, the curt nod she gave Tyrie caused the colorful glass beads tied into the end to chime softly together. Her smile, more warm and affectionate than she would normally bestow upon anyone, had shifted into something wryly amused. “Yeah, guess even the Gods need to take a break after playing so hard,” she commented even while sending up a quick prayer to both Morwen and Zulrav. It would not do to be seen as mocking or presumptuous by the mighty beings that both considered Mount Skyinarta to be well within their domains.

The yelp of the child barely registered with Sai, but she took the moment of distraction to once more size up the nimble hunter. They had worked well together during their last hunt. Tyrie had not only been competent but seemed to have a personality that meshed well with her own. The hunt had been carried out with quiet efficiency, a rarity when working with as young a group as they had been. The woman’s dignity and self possession had infected, temporarily, the other youths. Although they had not had a chance to work together after that, Sai had remained interested in the progress of the hunter.

At the suggestion, yellow eyes dropped to the wickedly sharp Talon Sword. Did she really want to stay warm at the risk of losing a limb? Did Tyrie really want to take a stab at her that badly? The woman’s movements with the blade had been sure but still contained an edge of coarseness. If they made a mistake, would Tyrie be able to correct it? After a long moment of scrutiny, Sai finally nodded. If she recalled correctly, Tyrie trained with the sword and eschewed both unarmed and knives.

“If you’re volunteering yourself to keep me warm this winter, you might find yourself lacking free time,” Sai remarked with a significant glance up to the clouds currently emptying their fluffy white bellies. Every winter came with days or weeks for which all flight was shut down as it had been the last two days. This one would be no different. “What better way to work out frustration than on a volunteer?” asked almost to herself, thoughts skittering along underneath Catabasis’ grumpiness. Though the comments could have been interpreted to dissuade Tyrie, her person was divested of two knives that had been stashed away.

Truly, there was a bit of competiveness and pride supporting her decision. The hunter was merely an Avora, but she housed something hard and ambitious that Sai didn’t yet have the experience to nurture or challenge properly. Contemplating what her gut was trying to tell her, Sai set about stretching. This would probably be an exercise in being just quick and flexible enough to avoid getting sliced in half. Still chilled, but loose as a scarf in the wind, Sai bounced on her toes and glanced at the sheathed sword. “You planning on beating me with your sheath?” Like one of the many large cat Kelvics running around, Sai assumed a low, ready stance with bent knees and her hands held open in front of her. Yellow eyes flashed with reckless enjoyment and more than a little provocative challenge.

[Nero Falcar]

(Hope you don’t mind me joining in)

Nero was once again dodging his duties, he did enough to keep himself fed but he did little enough that people were well aware that he was a bit of a slacker. He adjusted the white cloth that kept his hair out of his face. The Courtyard of the Sky had its usual crowds hanging around, some children greeted him with cheerful hellos that he gladly returned. He missed been young enough to just spend all his hours playing or learning, these days he had to work for his feed, not that he got that much. Tar, Nero’s loyal falcon often had to help supplement his meals with the food he would bring back. Nero didn’t know where he would be without the falcon.

Tar took flight off of Nero’s shoulder letting out a shrill call as he departed to sit with some other falcons who were in the courtyard. Nero glanced at the sky, Morwen was been strongly merciful or perhaps just bidding her time before she struck again with a storm of thunder, lightening and ice. Nero moved over to a clear spot and stared up at the sky. He glanced at Sairque and Tyrie, they seemed far too consumed in their conversation to pay him any mind so he took the opportunity to close his eyes and inhale the scent of his home city. His mind was quick to wander away from Wind Reach and into the sky where he would one day be flying on his eagle with Tar by his side. He let his mind wander even further to the distant places, places like Akvatar and Syliras. He wanted to see it all. He could imagine the wind in his hair and feel the beat of his eagles wings as they flew together on their countless adventures.

Nero had only ridden an Eagle once and it was an experience he would never forget, the freedom, the power of the avian. It was that moment that confirmed his dreams, he wanted to fly it was in his blood to fly, but unlike his kin who flew close to home or only departed for short periods, he would fly away. He would learn about all the different cultures and races, he would have new experiences and adventures. Why would he waste away here when there was so much else to see in this world?

He let out a shrill whistle and Tar landed on his shoulder, with his eyes still closed he spoke to the falcon, “Freedom, can’t you taste it Tar?” he opened his eyes but left his head in the clouds. He began to walk away but wasn’t paying attention to where he was going. Unthinkingly he ran into Sairque.

[Tyrie]

Religion had always been a curious thing to Tyrie. Like all Inarta, she respected Morwen and Zulrav’s strength and feared their fury. She was thankful for the light that Priskil provided in the fires but she did not openly worship any particular deity. It had always been a thought in the back of her mind that this was the reason she had failed to bond with an Eagle. But neither her Mother nor Father were ones to worship the Gods either. At least, as much as she could remember of her Father anyway. Still, the Winter was Morwen’s doing and it was as much evident that she held a lot of power as the Ice-City itself.

Knowing Sairque had never trained with her before, she could understand the woman’s hesitation. When sparring, Tyrie was far more cautious than she should be. She’d had several choice words flung her way about holding back against her mentor, but fighting someone else, she felt it appropriate until they demonstrated they could handle themselves. She at least knew that Sairque could handle herself, but she was unsure of the Endal’s skills in hand-to-hand. Her lips curled in to smile. “Frustration at me or frustration at not being able to fly?” Tyrie was no stranger to how restless Endals and their bonded partners got during Winter. Especially in weather such as this.

Tyrie grasped the handle once more. She paused for a moment, her eyes watching Sairque and the youth that was stumbling behind her. She had seen this ‘man’ before. She used the term loosely. He was finished in the Yasi, just last year and was now a Chiet. Tyrie quite simply felt he should have been a Drek. Her demeanour changed slightly and for a brief moment that was nothing but pure rage in Inarta’s eyes. Without any more warning, Tyrie strode forwards. She moved around Sairque, being sure to show the proper respect as she did. Her hand reached up and grabbed Nero’s collar. With a surprising amount of strength from the far shorter woman, she pushed him back. Nero might have stood the better part of a foot taller than her but she was not in the least bit intimidated. She was not sure how she resisted the urge to hit him.

“Watch where you are going!” At this point, the Yasi in the courtyard had all stopped to look at the noise. She did not openly insult him, still aware of the caste system that was in place. But he was a Drek her eyes and did not deserve the same respect of the others of his caste. There was clear disgust in her voice as the wind whipped around them. The flames of her hair danced in the wind as she glared venomously at Nero. “If I had not have seen you, you could have been injured.”

“If you took your head out of the clouds for once, you might actually get some work done. All I have seen you do is slack off while your falcon does all the work. Whatever reason it was that Val made you a Chiet, I will never know nor understand,” Tyrie let out a heavy sigh, feeling a little better to get that off her chest. She finally drew her Talon Sword and turned to Sairque. Two hands firmly grasped the handle as she held the blade close to her chest, the silver metal pointing skyward. “Let’s begin?”

[Sairque]

Caught off guard at the ferocity in her gaze, Sai jerked back and away as she was suddenly charged by the woman. Quite frankly, the Flight Leader was sure that Tyrie, using the sparring as an excuse, was about to get revenge on her for an offense she or some other Endal had committed. The woman would have little trouble slicing her to ribbons, once she pulled her blade, with such hate fueled determination while Sai was caught off guard. The only witnesses would be the children. No one would be the wiser. Had she ever done anything to Tyrie? They had little social contact, and none of it memorable as negative. Sai tried not to adopt the habit of taking her moods out on the people around her, but perhaps she had slipped. Scouring her memory, and prepared to make a dive for the knives discarded some distance to her left, Tyrie blew by as quickly as she had advanced.

Nonplussed in the wake of the competent woman, Sai turned to follow the hunter’s progress with wary confusion. The boy…was ridiculously close to her for some reason. He had been up to something for Tyrie to react this way, jumping to her rescue, as it were, but it clearly hadn’t been life threatening otherwise, Sai had no doubt, the hunter would have been significantly more physical. The boy was unknown to her. But if what Tyrie said was true, then the Endal had probably written the youth off if ever she had come into contact with him before. As it was, it still appeared that Tyrie had saved him from accidental injury only to deliver unto him a deliberate drubbing. As he was young and durable, the physical lesson might do the trick. Sai had certainly been on the receiving end of those and could find no fault with the method. And then the Avora continued. Sai cooly regarded the youth. A mix of preemptive trust in Tyrie’s judgment and a vague gut feeling about the kid’s shady attitude tainted her first impression. Cocking a brow expectantly at the Chiet, one hand came up in a ‘shoo’ gesture.

The matter was closed. Tyrie had done what she thought was right and expected no response from her. Sai, however, expected the youth to follow directions. The small woman, still somehow taller than Tyrie, turned attentions to her opponent and gave a curt nod. Priskil, that sword looked sharp. With that one stray observation, all such thoughts were deliberately pushed away from awareness. Instead, the hunter’s stance was noted, her dominant hand, which arm would give the most reach with the blade should a hand be removed, and Tyrie’s attitude were more important. When she was confident that there were be no further interruptions, a defensive stance was adopted. Not only so she could escape the reach of that wicked blade, but so they could dispense with the circling as they felt each other out. Sai gave her starting plan away blatantly. The beginning would still be slow, both of them building up to the boundaries of one another’s capabilities instead of starting with over kill and taming themselves to fit within safe parameters. Hopefully Tyrie would accept that Sai wasn’t going to abruptly try to punch her in the face at an inopportune moment during a swipe with the blade and end up losing an arm.

If such an unfortunate event did occur, however, it was a possibility that had been accepted before ever agreeing to the spar.

[Nero Falcar]

Tar shifted uneasily on Nero’s shoulder, he always strived to protect the boy but it was becoming a hard task as he grew older. The falcon bristled it’s golden feathers in irritation and let out a small cry but it did not take flight deciding to stay by his charge.

Nero flinched when Tyrie grabbed him by the collar of his crude fabric cloak, he had expected to be struck as it was a common punishment he would receive for his day dreaming. “Beating it out of him” they would say, “Teach him a lesson and do him good.” He was mildly surprised when no blow came, instead he was shouted at, perhaps the blow would have been easier to deal with. Blows were usually delivered with a few choice words, not the speech he was receiving from Tyrie. Didn’t matter either way Tyrie wasn’t saying anything he hadn’t heard before. “You could have been hurt”, “Head out of the clouds”, “All you do is slack off”. Nero knew they had a point, he wasn’t like others of his kind, he never learnt his lesson, it would seem that nothing could cure his need to day dream. When Tyrie released him he took a hasty step back and lowered his head. “I’m sorry, I’ll try to stop, I swear,” a false promise but it always seemed to please those above him who thought he really would strive to be better, it fed their egos to think they had changed him in someway. Problem was, no matter how hard he tried, Nero couldn’t even change himself.

His emerald eyes flicked back up to Sairque who was making a shooing motion with her scarred hand. He departed across the courtyard only to be stopped by the Yasi who wanted to make sure he was okay. Worry was obvious in their large eyes, with a smile Nero assured them he was okay and once it was done the Yasi focused their attention on Tar. Even those who had already managed to acquire falcons loved Tar, he had been part of their lives when Nero had been a Yasi the falcon had a big presence. Nero sat down with the kids and Tar plodded himself on the ground. Nero knew that Tyrie and Sairque would probably give him another scolding for not doing any work after been told to, but right now they were too far gone in their sparring match.

Nero’s emerald eyes focused themselves on the two women and he was inspired once more, his dreams set alight again. Tar seemed to sense his friend’s thoughts and gave a disapproving squawk but knew there was nothing he could do to distract Nero’s imaginative mind.

[Tyrie]

((Sorry about the long wait. Been very busy with funeral stuff.))

Tyrie had been brought up on the mantra that they survived because they did all they could to help each other survive. Whether that was training and sparing to increase their prowess or menial tasks around their volcanic home. Everyone had their place and the system worked. It was when people did not do what they should that Tyrie got angry. If everyone had the opinion and attitudes of Nero then Wind Reach would not be what it was today. But people like Nero never did understand that and never would. The best thing to do with them was banishment before they let their complacency spread.

Without having a weapon of her own, Tyrie had no doubts about whether Sairque would try to disarm her. It made sense after all. Tyrie was not sure how much Sairque knew of her fighting skills but Tyrie was never seen without her blade. That must have been evidence enough to say that she struggled in unarmed combat. But she had always been taught that using a blade was not just about the blade. Taking note of the defensive stance, Tyrie decided she would start slow as well.

Her grip tightened on the long hilt of her weapon. Without any warning of them starting, she step forward, bringing the blade round in a horizontal arc. Once more it sang as it moved through the mountain air. The move was well telegraphed and rather predictable. What was not predictable was the follow up. Keeping the flow of her attack going, Tyrie swung her leg round towards Sairque, aiming to knock her backwards and off balance.

[Sairque]

(No worries, take care of what you need to.)

Inarta knew not the concept of personal space. Their favored bladed weapon provided a prime example of this. Holding the long hilt with one hand near the blade shortened the reach, forcing combatants dangerously close, while holding the hilt further down provided an adversary a spot to safely grab the weapon and neutralize the threat. Of course, with a people that were more likely to simply whip out a knife and slash at each other in close quarters, it fit. The telegraphed move, hints easily discerned and calculated for, swept toward her.

As Sai simply stepped out of the short weapons reach, her momentum carried her away from that sneaky kick. However, she did have to pull a quick, graceless twist to avoid getting the full force of it, The twist was in the opposite direction of the kick, but Tyrie's foot clipped her anyway, knocking her off a bit. The nimble woman carried the original motion through, getting her center of balance back again by the time that Tyrie and come around to face her again. Lesson learned. The expected could mask the unexpected.

This time her chance for counter strike had been a fallacy, but Sai was a quick learner and would look for less obvious moves to be coupled with the more obvious. She waited again, a faint smile on her lips, getting a thrill out of the danger the slick blade provided.