Swords and Scales (Markus Andres)

[Blythe]

Spring 76, 512 AV

Blythe strode along the crowded hall in silence. The frayed edges of her dress fluttering against her ankles, loose strings trailing along the floors, brushing over the fingertips of beggars and the injured. Her nails glided uneasily along the stone walls, flowing as crookedly as the waves she so often watched, buffeting into the shores of her homeland. The tiny crescents gathered grime- debris cast by the tumbling rubble, the inner workings of a castle so expansive, it could easily be overlooked, or even ignored, as laboring souls crept to darker corners. Mending their battered bodies, their souls, or even the place they had once called their own. There was a thick dust too, separate from the ashes of the stronghold; a thin sheet showing only how old these sectors were. How they could bore into a decrepit state; filled with bulbous edges, rounded, smooth from another's touch, or deep crevices cast by wear. A thick slime; perhaps moisture trickled in from the endless rain; clinging to the spaces in which they could maintain their ground. Small gathering pools from which only the tiniest of creatures could drink- emaciated mice, a fly perhaps.

Slowly, her fingertips slipped away, returning to her sides. Blythe could sense herself losing them in the folds; trying to wipe away the grime on the gathering grey. The piles that had formed; hungry to consume more, to grow until there was nothing white left. Nothing pure. She sighed to herself as her lavender colored eyes grazed over the throngs of people. Some moaning. Some clutching their chests, holding their ragged bandages a little closer to their soot stained forms. Their bodies hung, their skin bunching around their bones, as though they were bits of over ripened fruit waiting to dry. Even with all the relief the masses have been doing their best to provide, there is so much to be done, the Konti thought to herself as she eased herself along the long stone passageway. So many huddled masses, looking to anyone for help or even a little support it seems. Support from something far more tangible than the gods they must oft pray to in order to deliver them. To save them.

Again, the Konti sighed. Perhaps there is something more to be done for these people, Blythe thought. Something more than simply rebuilding their walls... something to help rebuild their fleeting strength. Their lost courage. Something to revive their bodies. To replenish their minds. The woman let out a deep breath, which seemed to whistle in the thick, dank air. But what can someone like myself do? I am not like the rest of my family. I know nothing of medicine. But that doesn't mean it's too late to learn...

[Markus Andres]

Sweat was dripping from his naked and heavily muscled torso. A swift right motion send sweat flying in every direction. His fist connected squarely with the wooden plank. But anyone watching Markus, would notice that his eyes were not open. Instead, his focus was inwards. Those looking closer, would notice that Markus' punches were heavier and swifter than even his impressive body would allow. It took all his concentration to keep his djed under control and at the same time willing it to the muscles that needed the added energy. He still felt a dual nature of his djed. A part of him felt uncomfortable... The other part felt euphoria at the power being pushed around at will. Even though it was many chimes between each punch. Something people would notice as well. Markus was sweating heavily from punching every fourth of fifth chime.. Markus willed the power into his left triceps. Sending a swift punch directly into wooden plank. It cracked and splinters stuck out of the softer skin between his knuckles. The pain made him loose all control over his Flux and of himself and his eyes opened as the euphoria also vanished. Markus hated the world his eyes opened to. A city he had sworn to protect, ravaged by powers beyond his control. It made him bitter. It made him angry. The city had been so peaceful before the blasted storm. Now, it was a mess and Markus had been on duty almost all the time. If not patrolling then at least cleaning and getting the city back in shape. He looked at the dummy he had been practising his flux against. That crack hardly seemed noteworthy. He needed more practice… More strength. But that had to be another day. He found a towel and a bucket with water, splashed the water over his naked torso and wiped the sweat and water off with the towel. These free moments were few and far between and he had decided to spend it with magical training. Far away from prying eyes in a lonely corner of the training area. When he was dry, he put his shirt on, sheathed his blade by his side and exited the area. The towel over his shoulder as he made his way out into the city. He had no particular goal in mind. Perhaps he could offer his help to someone at the docks, the gods knew the docks needed any help they could get. His dark green eyes looked dull as he walked. Trying not to look at the crowded people. Trying hard not to look at those in pain, those who had recently lost loved ones. Many of those at the hands of the knights. There was not much to proud of those days, so Markus tried to stop himself from thinking and just go about doing mundane stuff that did not allow him to get deep into thought. His pace was quick. He brushed past some people, not paying much heed to them. But unfortunately for him, in his eagerness to leave the streets that only brought misery, he brushed past someone rather hard. The poor lady would feel a hard bump on her right shoulder where Markus’ broad left arm hit. Markus silently berated himself for being such a clumsy fool. ”Pardon me lady, it was no- Blythe? You? What are you doing here?” He asked, surprised to see her in the city. Hardly what he had expected at all. He had not seen the konti since Markus’ mission for the knights over a year ago. His eyes wide with surprise.

[Blythe]

Blythe kept on weaving in and out of the throngs, making her way through the crowded corridor, a little more swiftly than before, as though that would increase the speed at which she thought. For a time, so lost was she in her musings, she became increasingly less aware of her surroundings, and soon found herself running into others. Those much broader, and stronger than she. Taken aback by their strength, she stumbled, threatening to tread upon hands, the frayed edges of the rags the people here called clothes. It took but a moment for her to shake her head, and right herself. To peer straight ahead, to mutter a half-assed apology, being that her mind was still wandering. Still in another place.

"Markus?" Blythe exclaimed as she narrowed her gaze, still struggling to get used to the lack of light. "Is it really you? A knight now, or still a squire?"

There was a pause as the Konti ran her cleaner hand through her matted, greasy blonde hair. They never made it far, her fingertips catching in clods of knots. Embarrassed, her cheeks brightening, Blythe pulled them away, and returned her hand to her side. "Waiting to go home. The waters between this land, and the one where my family resides have been treacherous of late, ever since that storm. It has been said that some ships have been lost trying to make it there, and so, we have not returned." Again, the Konti paused. "Just as before, I am not alone." Blythe bit her lip, struggling with her internal monologue about just how much she should tell. What she would have faced had she failed to return with the katana mistress. Finally she decided to share only a little more. "There is a teacher here with me; Kariha. She worked at the suvai pavilion by the silver lake. She taught many how to use the katana, and how to dance as well."

It was there she fell silent, waiting for Markus to say whatever else was on his mind.

[Markus Andres]

"Really is you. Great to see you again." Markus could hardly believe it. It really was Blythe. He had heard that Mizahar had a relatively low population compared to pre-valterian standards, but the odds of running into Blythe like that. Must be one in a ... very large number. Much larger than Markus knew. He flashed a genuine smile. Happy to see the Konti again. It was great to see a familiar face. Especially someone who did not seem to be as touched by the disaster of the djed storm as the people around them. Markus hated the situation around him. He knew he could do nothing against that magnitude of a storm. But still... He should have done more... more... Markus looked back to the pale creature before him. Her foreign beauty distracted him from the suffering around him. She were there for a ship... And not alone. A teacher of the katana, a sword Markus understood, and dance. A Konti teacher of the blade. Intriguing. Was Blythe a student of hers? He looked at Blythe's form, looking for a katana or blade of the sorts. Wondering. Had she picked up the sword in the year that had passed? After their perils in the mines, he could not blame her if she had. Or was it the art of dancing that had lured her? "Is it the dance, or the katana she teaches you?" Markus asked. That was when something of greater concern dropped in his mind. - Last time he had run into Blythe, she had been there on a god-given mission. Or vision. He did not pretend he knew what the deal was with Konti and their missions. But, was Blythe there on a mission again? How could he ask that without sounding suspicious... "Did you leave Mura on grounds of another, what was the word... Call?" Subtle. The last word barely louder than a whisper. "Would you walk with me? I fear we might be obstructing traffic if we stand idle for too long." Markus offered, motioning with a hand in the direction she had been walking before he bumped into her. "But on your mission to get a ship, perhaps Zeltiva would be a better city to procure a vessel from? I would assume they have more traffic for Mura than Syliras." Markus explained. Unless of course the Zeltivan navy had been lost in the storm. A very real possibility.

[Blythe]

"The katana, considering interest in the dance is rather slim," Blythe responded, as she offered a slight nod and began to walk forward with Markus by her side. "It is not a Call that has caused each of us to leave the island this time. The lady having gone before, to Riverfall, trying to retrieve something that was lost." There was a pause, as she considered again, how much she could reveal to the knight. Perhaps, she could get away with more if only she spoke cryptically...

"The matriarch of the Konti order asked that I take leave of the Island for a time. The cards not showing favor," Blythe went on. "So it was the land and sea from there to Riverfall that was traveled. Only to find the mistress and bid we return. But the waters. They sway. They keep us here for a time, until Laviku and perhaps Zulrav himself, can smile upon us once more. Show us their favor."

There was a slight pause as the Konti considered the words of the squire. "Perhaps. But our feet have grown weary. Making that journey now may very well be the end of us." Again she paused. "And to what purpose would traveling be now? There is no where for us to go. We'd be just as trapped there as we are here and now, unfortunately." The Konti's eyes darkened, and then grew strangely soft. As though the sickening, moisture which sank into the walls had willed its way into her lavender colored eyes.

"And what of you Markus?" Blythe asked as she shook her head lightly, warding away her thoughts. Warding away her troubles. "What have you been doing in this hard year past? Besides recovering of course, from the time spent in the mines, buried beneath sheets of rock?"

[Markus Andres]

Markus wondered if she had become a warrior due to the experiences she had had in the mines. Or had she already picked up the katana beforehand. But it was not a call, which meant Blythe was far from too scared to leave the isle of Mura after their trip to the mines. That was a good thing. Such experiences could leave terrible scars on the psyche. Markus had had the same problem after his adventure with Rhuryc in the forest. ”Have you mastered the katana?” Markus asked, he was very interested in most things martial. Intrigued by the prospect of perhaps watching a good katana user fight. The blade was radically different from the bastard sword Markus used. Would be very interesting to watch. Perhaps he should ask her if she would care to show him. Markus tilted his head a little and stiffled a laughter when she suddenly spoke in a strange way. Thinking she was joking. But she continued. Markus thought about it for a moment. Her mission sounded simple. Much like Markus’ knighting quest had sounded simple. Go there. Find her. Bring her back. In theory, sounds quite easy. But things could go wrong. Many things. Like, getting stuck in a city due to a freak djed storm that tore through the continent. ”Trapped in Zeltiva? They have no ships travelling? What of their navy?” Markus asked confused. He was a child of that city. He knew the city was based upon its navy. Had Zeltiva been hit so hard that they had lost their navy? No. That was unthinkable. If Syliras could protect their fields from the storm, Zeltiva with the university should be able to do at least the same. He did not smile at all now. He was worried of his family in Zeltiva. Someone he had not thought of in a while. But he could not leave the knights for a personal issue like that. Not now. Markus looked to Blythe when she asked what he had done in the past year. For there had been a thing that had been nagging him. ”After what happened in the mines. After the position we were put in… I trained harder than I had ever trained. Be at the mercy of such scum… I could not… I would not let something like that happen again.” Markus spoke with much bitterness. Twice had he been put in such a humiliating position… But for the women who had accompanied him to be put in the same situation... Unbearable. ”Even if I was just a squire… You should not have been put in such a dangerous situation…” Markus paused for a couple of long heartbeats. ”… For that, I am sorry. You should not have been put in such a situation in Syliran territory.” Markus said, genuinely sorry for what had happened.

[Blythe]

"Hardly," Blythe replied. "Mastery over anything takes quite some time. It wasn't until I reached my early forties that the tarot was mastered. Why should it be any different with a blade? Why would it take less than a year to surpass the ability of a mistress such as Kariha? Or even, to reach her skill level?" The Konti shook her head as she considered the man. Someone with far less experience in every matter, it seemed. "It's just not possible. You need too much time to practice."

There was a long pause as the Konti tugged her hair over her left shoulder, and began to run her fingers through the strands as she continued walking. "Speaking of which, even those who have been at sea for ages, endured the greatest of storms are wary. No one seems to be sailing now, even the reckless. Well... not no one. But many are reluctant to leave land behind despite the scarcity and destruction that has spread." The Konti paused for a moment as she bit her bottom lip, her fingers hitting a snag. She drew nail away from bleached thread and cast her lavender colored eyes to the knight. "As of the navy, it's difficult to say. We didn't make much of an inquiry into the matter, and even if we had, who is to say that we would have been answered? Konti or not, there are many things the outside world keeps from our kind."

With that Blythe could only shrug. "It happens. We do not expect our Call to be easy. To be met without obstacle, or even danger. Death." She paused, "it is the way of our path in this life. For that, you need not apologize. You did what you could to protect us, and that is enough. Besides, we all made it out alive, didn't we? Isn't that what truly matters?" Again the woman paused, allowing the knight time to process all that was said. "If anything, the experience made us all stronger. For in this year past, we both have trained. Or bodies have become all the more tone. We are all the more capable of protecting ourselves, and others." The woman licked her lips as she allowed her hands to slide down her sides. "While it might not have been the most pleasant of experiences, perhaps it was a good thing. Lady Avalis having had the foresight to see how it would change us... thrusting us into the churning tides to ware us down, smooth our blemishes, and rebuild us along the shore with the other grains of sand. Creating fortresses, castles, so very much so like the one we find ourselves in."

The Konti flourished her hand, waving it about the corridor. "And although the stone may crumble. It may always be rebuilt, in one way, or another. As a sword may be sharpened. The severed edges thrown back into the furnace, to burn with a fresh heat..."

[Markus Andres]

”You’re only in your forties?” Markus asked as he gave her an incredulous stare. But she didn’t look forty at all hardly even in her thirties. It had been the same with Airil and Sondra. They had all looked so young, but they all seemed much older than Markus in experience. ”Well… You’re doing well for someone in her forties.” He paused for a brief moment, letting her understand the compliment. ”But I am not yet in my twenties… And I have mastered both the shield and the sword.” Markus said. He would speak as if he was merely stating the truth about his skills, not boasting, just talking as if it was a matter of fact. Syliras had forty year olds, but they had led long hard lives. Meaning their appearance rarely matched that of the beautiful Konti lady. Markus knew he was in his prime now. He shuddered at the thought of his body having whithered when twenty more years had passed. The thought brought him back to his aging father. A man he had not seen for years. A man he still cared a little for. When everything was said and done, the man was still his father. It eased his heart that Blythe told him that it was due to cowardice, or the sorts, that the ships were not sailing. ”Well, that eases my heart a little. I am from Zeltiva and my family still lives there. I only hope they made it out of the storm unscathed.” Markus watched her as she spoke. There was something about the way she moved. Of course it was more elegant than Markus, since he was quite large. But the way she licked her lips. When she spoke of her toned body and her hands slid down her sides. Tugging her hair over her shoulder. It was hard for Markus not to be taken in by her beauty. He could only imagine what she looked like when not weary from travel. If he had more guts he would ask if she wanted to enter the soothing waters with him… But he left that idea in his mind. Despite his shame at failing to protect them adequately to his own expectations. He was comforted by her words. ”You are right.” He told her. Relieved. ”But, I needed to get it off of my chest. It was my first quest and… Things should not have gotten to that place to begin with.” Markus was quiet for some time as they walked. ”Was it because of then, that you decided to learn to use the katana?” He asked quietly. ”To protect yourself…?”

[Blythe]

Blythe's lavender colored eyes sparkled as she glanced down, her eyes raking over the knight's body as petals burst. Velvet lines shredding as they were mashed into an uneven pulp; smelling more of fabric linings than the forest itself. Or perhaps the garden. The soft rounds of her cheeks blossomed as her eyes danced back up, to rest on the knight's own. "That's understandable," Blythe whispered, "to fear for that," she added as her fingertips brushed up against each other hesitantly. Against the folds of her dress. Within another heartbeat she had decided, her fingers stretching; reaching for him. For a breath she could feel them brushing. The soft tingling sensation that shot up the length of her arm at contact, to be replaced by the emptiness left by air as it swallowed her limbs instead. Lavender drooping as she was left alone, they turned, running below to her own skirts. Clutching desperately at fabrics in seek of solace. But it was not the same, again they tore away. Hanging limply in the air as though in invitation, wondering if it were her fingers Markus sought as well. Or if he thought such simplicities childish or below him. Perhaps even unacceptable given his status within the city walls.

"As are the need to share your feelings, understandable," Blythe whispered. "But still, you need not be so hard on yourself. You are still young, learning. Incapable of doing many things you'd like to, just as the old are. And even, those who fall somewhere in the middle." There was a pause as she considered his final question. "In part. The rest fell to wanting to be more like my family. Most of them train with a weapon- the suvai is most popular. It is simply myself and one of the nine- nieces, children of the three older sisters- that practice the katana as well." The Konti shrugged. "It has come in handy, and the relationships forged because of this bit of growth have been plenty, and great. Adding a bit of honey to these troubling times; this singular life." A soft sigh escaped her lips. "Are you interested in seeing what has been learned in this year past Markus?" she asked with a small chuckle. "Is that why you seem so keen on your interrogation tactics? Or are you simply practicing your duties on a woman for its own sake?"

[Markus Andres]

It was strange to be on the receiving end of emotional wisdom. He had almost always held his composure despite everything. His first kill had provoked his emotions to get all tangled up. But now felt different. He blamed it on being a stressful and tense half year. But he looked to Blythe appreciative of her kind and comforting words. Markus felt her fingers graze his arm. It was as surprising as it was ticklish. He turned to look at her. Thinking he might have not heard something she said. But looking at her. She looked almost sad, if not depressed. He reached out for her and gave her shoulder a comforting light squeeze as he looked into her lavender eyes. "Are you alright?" He hated being inexperienced. With women. With the knights. With life. He knew the city. He knew how to wield his sword and shield what he cared for, but beyond that... There was a whole world he had never explored. "You might be right, but still... I'd like to be capable of doing more. Be trusted upon to do my duty to its fullest..." He let the sentence hang in the air. Then he sighed and just continued the walk. It was a subject he really did not wish to talk about. He was surprised. He did not realize that all Konti learned how to fight. His respect for their race grew a little. He had always thought Sondra the odd one out, because of her martial skills, but it appeared that, at least in Blythe's family, that they all had learned how to fight. Considering the world they lived in... Always useful. If she came from a family of warriors... That must mean she knew how to fight well. For Markus came from a family of traders. Where the fighting was oft about haggling rather than brawling. But despite the family, he had become what he was today. She had quite a large family, much like Markus. He felt some warmth in his cheeks when she said he had been interrogating her. "I was... I wasn't interrogating you... I just... I am just interested in how you move..." - 'When you use the katana' - was what he wanted to continue with, but he tripped over his own tongue in his eagerness to explain himself. "I mean... urrr.." He stopped. Looked at her. Felt his cheeks burn warmer. He looked away. Took a deep breath. "I have never seen anyone fight with the katana. I am interested in how it is compared with the bastard sword I use. From what I understand, it is a single edge blade." Markus said. Sounding a little more... professional than his earlier fumbling self. "But yes, I wouldn't mind seeing you use the blade." He said. Working very hard to not break down again. Very hard with Blythe that close. "But it is good. Knowing how to defend yourself is important. Always. But there is a place you can show me, nearby. A training and sparring area. Actually. So we would fit right in." Markus said, eagerly showing her the direction and walking in the direction of the training area.