Fresh Rise [Ishara]

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

16th Spring 512AV

He now had a good idea for how Ildin felt every morning waiting for him; although Ildin knew he would show up…he didn’t know for sure if Ishara would. However; he was hopeful so on that note he would rise; strap himself ready and set off for a morning run. It was a good way to clear the mind before things got to hectic. He was still unsure how things had worked out for Kavala…and frankly he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. He was here for her; he would assist her morally and otherwise. But he was a man here, a human male…being a human male here was like a slurred explicative. He was nothing to them; and he knew it.

May they forever underestimate me, only to know the danger later. Lessons whispered form the slave camp. They underestimated him there as well…and he was free now; even if he didn’t know how this could have happened. But such was the intricate inner workings of life in all its splendor. The sun was going to greet him soon…his bare feet found sand…comfort.

His mind hushed as the waves rolled. It is time. Yes it was…his body wanted to go, run…push itself. And he had no real option but to oblige it. With a nod to the rising sun he began his jog. He preferred to run in the mornings when everything was either winding down or just beginning to wake up. The time when everything was in the in-between. He chose to be awake now, to start his day by confirming that he was indeed alive, awake, and ready to do Rak’keli’s bidding. He was a healer now.

A different sense of being had filled him, a different mission. Ever since finding himself in Mura he wanted to help people. But he didn’t know how. The first stepping stone was to sharpen yourself…know yourself. Then and only then could you help others. He had to build his body so that he could withstand the challenges ahead, his knowledge so that he could fight ignorance with fact and disease with remedy, but most of all his faith. Because he knew that he was not as committed as he could be…in a way Ishara had shown him this herself.

The morning was young and barely rising, golden fingers stretched out over the horizon; almost ready to touch him. The horizon a gentle narrow lantern fire that would soon light up like a maelstrom. Yes…approaching…and he was hoping soon Ishara would be as well.

[Ishara Dossari]

The day dawned in subtle shades of dove gray and pink, permeating the blanket of darkness that had been pulled up the night before. Ishara witnessed these first stages of the coming morning as she sat just beyond the mouth of her tent, sipping her tea. It was cold. The warm brew had cooled between her palms as she waited for dawn, absorbed in thought. She was dressed plainly, in thick leggings that wore comfortably loose so they were easy to move in, a light tunic, and a thick, woolen sweater to keep out spring's early chill. It was time. Probably past time. Ishara rose and stretched the stiffness from her limbs, glancing over to Raj. The sighthound was sprawled by the remnants of last night's fire, golden eyes trained on his master. She offered him a small smile and tucked away her mug to be scrubbed and rinsed later. Before she could even reach for her satchel and waterskin, Raj sprang to his feet and trotted a few paces out, pausing to glance over his shoulder expectantly. "I see you are ready to head out," Ishara mused, shrugging her satchel across one shoulder and setting off at a brisk pace. Serriff was no doubt waiting. She arrived on the beach just as the gathering light was gilding the waves in silver. The dull roar of the waves was heavy in the air, and Ishara gathered in a deep breath as her eyes scanned the shore. Sure enough, she picked out a dark figure drifting across the wave-lapped sand. He was running, maintaining a steady, disciplined pace that Ishara recognized. He was not pursued. He was training. Ishara altered her course to intercept him. As he drew near, she pursed her lips and whistled, the high note carrying easily over the murmur of waves. Pausing, she waited for him to approach, certain that he'd spotted her. He was barefoot, despite the chill, and Ishara looked down to her own boots in speculation. She was not certain she could overcome the cold, but if she had to, she would certainly give it her best try. "Greetings!" she called, as he came within ear shot. Raj pricked up his ears, tail lifting, and darted forward. With a joyful bark, he zoomed once around Serriff at a ground-eating lope, managing to slide in behind Ishara again before Serriff reached her. His canine features cracking a wide, panting grin, Raj was letting it be known he found this to be a perfectly enjoyable day. His enthusiasm brought a smile to Ishara's lips.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

The mornings on the beach were always beautiful, especially at sunrise and sunset. It was always refreshing to watch the old day fade away and the new one gently introduce itself. Another day…that was something he could always count on. What it brought with it though was anyone’s guess. But he would meet the challenges head on like he always did with renewed vigor and a sense of purpose. Every day was a new opportunity to seize challenges as they approached, and today he was going to help train Ishara; when she showed u p.

He knew she would; this only confirmed by her whistle moments later. He knew because she was as determined as he was. Driven by her god and faith; something he understood. She did this because she felt the need to; she knew what she needed and for now that was training with him. She wanted to know how to defend herself; and he was willing to teach. It would help sharpen him as well. They could learn much from each other, he would be ignorant to think otherwise.

His head turned to the direction of the whistle and his body followed. There she was…just like he knew she would be. This confirmed that she was indeed driven just like he had been in Mura. They had that in common, both of them on a quest of sorts for their gods. Hers Yahal and his Rak’keli. From what he could tell the two were similar yet different. He would like to find out more sometime, especially from her. And he would share what he knew of Rak’keli with her; it was only fair.

Raj circled him quickly full of energy, he agreed with him…it was going to be a good morning. It was the first time he had company of any kind in the morning at all. He could see why Ishara loved the company so much. Just seeing Raj run around brought a mirrored smile to his face just like it did for Ishara. It almost made him want to get a dog of his own; only that would likely lead to a very interesting interaction with Rath…who he was still unsure of…to say the least. He seemed to have a very interesting almost split personality about him. Which made him uneasy.

Bare feet carried him to Ishara as Raj ducked behind her again. Was he playing? It sure looked like he was. “Wonderful morning indeed you two. Is he always this wound up in the mornings?” His energy was refreshing and he definitely seemed to be enjoying the morning.

[Ishara Dossari]

Ishara's shoulderes rose in a shrug as she dropped her eyes to the hound staring around her legs. His bursts of energy were not frequent, but when he was possesed by his instinctual need to run, he could indeed fly across the sands... "He knows today is different, I think," pale eyes rose to meet Serriff, and Ishara parted with half a smile. "There is the sand, too...being on the sand is like home...and he knows it best." In fact, with the training sessions that would no doubt take place here daily, thereafter, Ishara was considering the merits of moving her camp site out here. She'd spotted a good spot a ways down the beach, wedged between two dunes for privacy. No doubt it would merit further investigation later that day... "Where shall we begin?" The salty wind kicked up, tugging at Ishara's dark hair as it wound about her shoulders. Though the spring morning's chill did it's best to settle in her bones, the young Benshira woman shook it off. They were going to be moving soon, which would no doubt warm her limbs through. Her only defense for now, was to stand there rubbing her arms to help drive circulation to her fingertips.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

It was chilly, they would need to get moving quickly. But moving wasn’t where they were going to start. He remembered Val’mera's lessons now and called them back into his mind as he closed his eyes for a mere second to recall them clearly in his mind. He remembered his first few lessons, they weren’t as foggy as other memories to him and he could call up the finer points as he then nodded breathing calmly in and out once. Calming his senses and focusing himself some, she was counting on him to teach her something. And he would do just that.

“Remember when I told you find your hard points? I am talking about the hardest points of your body that can be used to help defend yourself.” He stretched a little and then began showing her what he meant.

“Your body has built in hard points, the elbow, knees, heel, and wrist.” He offered her his right hand for her to feel. “Right here.” He said as he placed her hand on the bottom of his radius bone. She would be able to feel how dense and hardened it was, striking someone with it would indeed cause a good amount of damage especially if she hit soft tissue, “if you land a hit on the neck with this you can bet you will have enough time to get away safe.” He now believed it was time to make something very clear to her.

“I will not teach you to kill with your body Ishara…not now anyway. I’ll teach you basics and like anything else we will build from there.” Those were the terms he would teach her under, just like Ildin and Val’mera. It seemed his Mistresses had a very evident effect on him.

[Ishara Dossari]

Absorbing the lesson at hand, Ishara's eyes followed Serriff's gestures as he gave instruction, pointing out the structures of the body that could deliver or deflect a blow. She nodded in understanding as he brought her hand up against the heel of his palm in demonstration, and when he dropped it she reached for her own. It was comforting to know that this was something she already possesed, something that she was already capable of despite her small stature. Her first weapon was herself. She just needed to learn how to wield it. Grinning at this small revelation, she almost missed his next words. I will not teach you to kill with your body, Ishara..." The notion wiped the grin from her features, replacing it with a pensive frown. To Kill... Yes, that was what she was here for, wasn't it? To learn how to defend herself, and even kill if it came down to it. The very thought of taking a life was so...alien. So far apart from the where and who she thought she would be... All part of the plan. It had to be, didn't it? She could not traipse across Mizahar as green as she was crossing the Sea of Grass...and that was with a whole caravan of people! This journey she was contemplating was going to consist of just herself and Serriff...and she could not expect him to shell out twice the fighting for them both if it came down to that. Yahal be merciful, Ishara thought grimly as she nodded, her pale eyes meeting Serriff's emerald gaze straight-on. "I understand." I'm ready.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

He wasn’t going to hit her with the realization of killing first off. No, he would work her gradually into it; because he knew she had discipline and wouldn’t use these skills unless she absolutely had to. They were heading off on a very dangerous journey together, and they would need to possess a certain level of ferocity if they were to stand together. He wouldn’t leave with her unless he felt that she was ready…unless he felt they were ready. And part of being ready was training.

As her eyes met his he saw the same look that he must have given Ildin during their first session together. She is ready His mind reminded him gently. He could see her determination to get started, and the somewhat pang of relief in the realization that she owned a weapon. She just needs to know how to use it.

“Hard points are good to strike with. But your most powerful hits will come from the legs. Any hits from the arms will merely be distractions.” He had almost always paired his hand to hand combat with his daggers, but he had learned a good deal about how to blend the two. All he was doing now was subtracting something from the equation…theoretically it should be simple enough.

“So, let’s get a baseline for what you know then work from there. I can heal any minor damage so let’s try to shrink away from breaking bones.” He stretched himself out some and took a few paces away from her.

“Alright Ishara, show me what you know, I will be purely defensive, not going to throw back any punches yet.” He really didn’t want to hit her at all...To be honest he didn’t feel ok with laying a rough hand on anything so…beautiful.

He didn’t think she was fragile or delicate. Yes she may appear so but he knew she was tougher than she looked. Still something about laying a hard hand on a woman didn’t sit right with him, even in training. Even if he could repair the damage he understood that sometimes the damage was far deeper than just physical.

He nodded to her indicating he was ready to see what she did and did not know. He wouldn’t hurt her, no he was rather just interested in seeing how much he could teach her; how much she knew.

[Ishara Dossari]

Swallowing back her anxiety, Ishara took a couple steps back and sank into what could only be described as a wary pose. Show me what you know... What did she know? Not much outside of mimicking the mock brawls her brothers pitted against one another. Practice though she might, she had never had a partner to pitch the moves against, and fighting people was far more difficult than fighting phantoms. Serriff here was no phantom. She frowned in concentration, trying to pull the right maneuver out of her memories... Ishara glanced at Raj, who was ducking off to one side, sensing that there was about to be a lot of unexpected activity. Smart dog. A little distance would no doubt put it all into perspective. Glacial eyes returned to Serriff, narrowing as she took another step back and calculated her first move... A kick? Well...why not? Her legs were less what you'd consider long and more of what you'd liken to 'sturdy,' the muscles in her calves and thighs strengthened by all the horseback riding of her upbringing. She had the strength to at least dent him...providing she could even get a hit in, of course. What chance did she really have when the thought of even landing a hit still put that hollow space in her throat...? Ishara took a step and a half forward and had a loathsome premonition that Serriff already knew what she was about to do before her leg even left the ground. Still, speed was on her side, being the smallish woman that she was. There was still a chance. She swung her right leg at him, twisting her hip into it as her foot soared up towards him in a kick aimed at his midsection.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

There was a very delicate balance here, one that he had noticed when Ildin and Val’mera had taught him on Mura. Confidence and reality. Sure he could let her land a kick on him to let her build confidence and skill; he could also counter her and plant her face in the sand to teach her the harsh reality of what she was going to face. For a split second the two balances fought out in his mind for control of the situation. Yes he knew she was going to lead into him with a kick. He could read it merely by the way her feet shifted in the sand. Her hands were raised but not for a strike. No, they were up for balance instead.

He decided that it was more important for her to have some sort of confidence; because the harsh reality of the situation she would use these skills in…well that was not something one taught in the first lesson. And she would be far more driven to meet him many more mornings if she had confidence that she could learn something. He didn’t want to teach her the Akalak way…no he was going to teach her his way. He would build her up and introduce the reality they both knew later.

The kick would sting but there was much he could learn from it. He would be able to gauge how much she knew. He could see her form, and feel her power as well. Yes feeling was very important to him. He needed to know if she could strike him. And it turned out she could. She struck him surprisingly hard just above his hip but below the ribs in a very soft spot of the body…she had good aim…or good luck. Either way her legs were indeed very sturdy; he found that out quickly as her hit did indeed sting.

He couldn’t help but display a little pain on his face as he let the kick hit him square on his left side. He then decided to take a little action of his own, his mind urging him on to show her something. So he did. While her leg struck him his right leg shot forward quickly and made a strong quick strike at her planted left foot she was using for an anchor. He was a little faster than she was and this move was hopefully going to land her on the ground. If so he had another part of the lesson to teach her. How to fight when you were on the ground.

[Ishara Dossari]

There was a certain amount of surprise in store for Ishara when her foot collided with Serriff's side. First, in that she actually hit him. Second, in that she seemed to be plunging towards the earth very quickly. Her arms pinwheeled once, attampting to snatch at the balance that had already been lost, and she landed in a graceless sprawl on the sand, flat on her back. Bewildered, she blinked up at Serriff. "I...I hit you," her moment of smug accomplishment was somewhat diminished by the fact she was making such a proclamation from the ground. It registered then that he'd executed a very wily hook to her grounded leg as she'd lunged to kick him...leaving her guard wide open. "Which...I suppose was your plan," she admitted with a wry grin, getting her elbows beneath her and sitting up partway. It would have been wise to stretch first, she thought to herself with a hint of self-mockery. It wasn't as though stretching would have prevented her from ending up on her back in the sand...but it might have alieviated some of she stiffness in her limbs before they had a rude introduction to the ground. Raj grumbled to himself, eyes shifting between Serriff and Ishara. He nursed a small protective streak, but he could see his master was not feeling threatened. The amosphere held no unusual tension. Things were--for the most part--stable. He bedded down in the sand to watch... "So...what did I do wrong?"