No Place Like Yours [Myri]

[Mihai]

1st Spring, 511 A.V. Now that Spring had come, Mihai had known Taloba as his territory for going on two seasons. It felt natural to share his range with several females, but it was the males who made him feel a bit tetchy from time to time. But he quelled those natural reactions, because here was Master, and her will was law for him as much as for her people, the Myrians. He padded up to the throne room, the air redolent with all the scents to which he had become accustomed. The seasons, of course, were strange here. His fur had not needed to thicken for the Winter as it would have in Taldera, but remained hot and humid for all seasons. The guards let him pass, which excited the strangely marked tiger. He was no Myrian Tiger, but when the Goddess-Queen was feeling whatever complicated emotions a goddess-queen felt and those feelings were just right, he was allowed to bask in her presence. Or nap in her presence. Or attend her. It was nice to belong to someone, strange as the course of his young life had taken him. Out of the northern mountains and into the jungles of Falyndar. What a happy choice he had made, attacking the snake-man rather than the Tskanna, the which had earned him a sleeping blow-dart to the neck rather than death, and Master. There she was, finally, as well as that lovely specimen of a tiger... Ah, it was enough to make a young cat purr, the which he immediately did. Only Master could make him act like a house cat.

[Cayenne]

The work of a Goddess was never done.

This was doubly true for Myri - even though the Council of Nine played a considerable role in running the city, and did during her absences, as it wasn't entirely unusual for the Goddess of War to vanish from time to time during the day, and during the evenings, some of the Myrians claimed that the Goddess-Queen left the city, not just the upper level of the city, and went to the Ukalas to oversee the Shadow Guard and the never-ending war games that were played up there by Myrians and what few outsiders had dedicated their lives to Myri enough to be taken to her Ukalas by Dira upon their deaths.

Immortality had its benefits. But it also meant that the days melted together. Tanroa's chosen agents, Syna and Leth marked the days, but it was birthing and aging of generations that Myri went by to count the years. But she never allowed herself, or her people, her children, to become complacent. Ruros had. And that, clearly, had worked out just so well for him. She had her moments, wild hairs, as her mother would have called them, when she idly considered an assault against Uphis. Just for a bit of excitement. To declare and demand Uphis' attention, to send his share of his city into chaos He wanted her blood as much as she wanted to finish off Ruros' line. When your enemy was of a choleric temper, you looked to irritate them. But you had to strike when the iron was hot, lest opportunity be lost. And yet... all things in due time. He reminded her of his father.

Myri was patient. It hadn't come naturally, but she had learned it from the Goddess she had followed unwaveringly before killing Ruros to take his place. Dira had stressed to the young woman that patience came in all things. If you were patient, the answers you sought would come to you, and in many cases, they would solve themselves.

Patience for a moment. Comfort for ten years.

The palace, if one could really even call it that, was surprisingly quiet as Mihai made his way through the halls. The guards were more for ceremony, surely - what did a Goddess need protection from? But still, it was tradition, it was respect. And for those who were new to the city, there was something almost terrifying about walking down that hall, flanked and faced on either side by tattooed warriors carrying weapons that they so very, very clearly knew how to use. It was intimidation, pure and simple. But Mihai had become used to it. It wasn't something to be afraid of - the dark-skinned people who lived here certainly weren't. But at the end of that hall, in the open throne room, sitting on the throne made of bones sat Master, fingers interlaced, and a far-away look on her face, clearly deep in thought. He'd seen that look before, and he knew how to fix it - interrupting her just got him squashed beneath the massive Tigress who was idly swiping around a dark-furred Myrian tiger cub as she sat beside the throne, the cub winding its way around one of her legs.

Eventually, the musings seemed to cease, and Myri looked at the young Kelvic, and grinned at him. Her emotions were hard to predict at the best of times, even for a Goddess who had once been as mortal as he. "There you are. What trouble have you been up to?"

[Mihai]

It made him unaccountably warm inside when she noticed him, let alone smiled. She was to his previous Master like the sun to a candle flame, and her mark upon him even outshone the blood he had apparently shared, albeit filtered through a generation, with his previous Master. He had been watching her, studiously ignoring her Tiger and the cub because part of him was irked that the cub would one day indubitably be larger than him and because someone had told him that women liked men who played hard to get, so it was one more strategy to woo the undeniably sexy Tigress. But Master's attention pushed even libidinous thoughts of his unrequited love out of his mind. He yawned wide enough to fit a human's head in his mouth, then fell over to lounge, sprawled out, before her. She seemed to understand a tiger's body language as well as if she were one herself, perhaps due to her truck with the god of cats, though Mihai himself hadn't realized there was a god of cats until he came to Taloba. He seemed rather silly to Mihai, but what did Mihai know? Hunting, he said. Sleeping. Hunting, sleeping. Sleeping, sleeping. Sometimes I talk to your two-legged children. They are strange to me still, but I am patient. Well, sometimes. If I get bored, I ignore them. His golden gaze looked up at her adoringly, though he tried to play it somewhat cool. Her nature seemed to encourage boldness from her children, which fanned the spark of his own nature, which was torn between subservience to a Master and the general dominant instincts of a male tiger. And yet here he was, ostensibly lounging before her as if she didn't have his utter respect, when really there was an element of bowing before her to the whole gesture, even if it seemed nonchalant. Is there... he hazarded, and it was a feat to see a great cat hedging in its body language, anything I can do for you, Master? She didn't need him any more than she needed the cadre of guards in the palace, but sometimes she humored him and it gave him great joy.

[Cayenne]

The Tigress acknowledged his presence with a single rumble. Not quite progress, but one would take what they could get. A couple of other Tigers around the sprawling city called the Tigress the Queen, just like her Rider was of the dark-skinned natives who lived around here. The cub was one of hers, though, his nose told him. But it wasn’t like whatever male had sired him seemed to stick around her – because the Tigress was usually by herself with her Rider, and while he smelled males around here, their scents were faded with passing: they were not recent.

Myri seemed amused by the way he sprawled before her, and she leaned forward on the bone throne, reaching to scratch around his chin and jaw with powerful fingers as she listened to him, picking out what he said. “We are strange to everyone. Our ways are our own. But they will be ready… because the cycle of war is unending. It will never cease. It will never stop. It is nature,” She studied him, her eyes meeting his as she held his gaze captive, her fingers slowing, the massage resuming now, her fingers emphasizing every word. “We practice now with the snakes. We wait… we bait the Dhani… we choke them off. And when they come out, we hunt them. One less of those snakes is always a victory. The only reason we have not stormed Zinrah yet is because I made a promise to Caiyha. There has been enough patience when dealing with the snake problem… but we wait.”

Mihai had found that the Myrians were rather accepting towards him and Kelvics in general, despite their apparent hatred of every other race in Mizahar. They certainly didn’t keep slaves – he had seen what happened to captives. In fact, he’d been accompanying another hunting party when they had found some humans looking for what they called the ‘lost city’. They had been talking about Taloba, apparently… and had been quite unprepared for the truth behind the stories about the Myrians. No amount of bribery, begging, or pleading had saved them from their fate – dragged through the jungle to the very place they sought, marched up the steps of the temple, where they were greeted by the High Priestess, and where they had their hearts cut out while they still breathed, only to see the still-beating organ offered to the gods in a bloody ritual. That was always the last thing that they saw. They had carved the bodies up and set to butchering people as easily as they could butcher a pig or one of those ridiculously long-horned cattle that they had, and splitting the sides of meat to the four winds. Some seemed to like it raw. Some cooked it.

Strange people.

But despite his need to serve, he was not treated like a slave. None of the Kelvics he had seen in Taloba were – they were partners, companions; their feral sides encouraged. Clothes certainly weren’t the issue beyond Falyndar’s borders. Silly people with their insistence on one’s being clothed... out of what they felt was decent, or out of necessity, considering the chill of northern Taldera. She smiled when he asked her something, and she paused in her ministrations, considering. “As a matter of fact… there is,” she told him, resting her weight on her elbows before getting up and meandering over to the weapons rack. This movement made the Tigress look up, squashing her cub with one massive paw to keep him still as she watched to see just what Myri was going to do. Myri selected a large, round, heavy-looking metal shield from the rack. It didn’t necessarily have anything special to it – it was just something she had kept. Along with it, she took a wooden staff that had been notched upon and carved – nothing to hamper its utility or strength, of course. If it had been compromised, it would no longer be on that rack. She motioned for him to follow her to the middle of the large room.

There was a mischievous expression on her as she turned to face him. “I think that both of us can use some practice.” The shield was to give him something to hit, and the staff, well, the staff was so that she could poke at him. She wanted to fight, and a little rolling of the tip of the staff as she took up a defensive stance was an indication for him to make the first move. "Do not hold back."

[Mihai]

Much of what she said passed over him and through him without making a great deal of sense, but there were eddies and pools in his mindstream, where ideas bobbed and collected until such time as he could understand the greater world around him. He was unschooled and too young to know much of anything outside of what he had done for his previous Master, which was mostly to track. He had done more hunting along his way down from the northern wastes, but he was still skinny for the trip, which had some to do with his limited hunting skills. Often the Master had held him back from any of the actual hunting for fear he would ruin hides that would sell better without tiger teeth holes. Mihai followed the Master warily. It was not so much that he was afraid -- well, he knew she could kill him with a flick of the wrist if she wanted to, but more that he didn't know what to expect. There had been some rough and tumble play among his Kelvic pack, but real fighting had been prohibited and now... And now he was afraid that she would be disappointed in him. He had weight, talons, teeth, but most of what he knew to do was utterly instinctual. Her mischievous look earned a warning growl that he knew wouldn't scare her, but knowing didn't automatically cancel out his instincts. Hackles rose though he knew it was not necessarily a fight over food or a fight to the death. He began to circle her cautiously, looking for any sort of opening, knowing that any opening she gave would likely be a trap. But what could he do? This would give the Master pleasure, and Mihai would learn to be better, which would also be pleasing unto Her. It would only hurt a little. He was lying to himself on that last, but all the same... He lunged at her, mouth gaping and teeth baring even as he swiped rapidly several times, trying to bat the shield out of the way long enough to get behind her guard without getting beaten.

[Cayenne]

Therein lay the difference between the Myrians and other cultures - where he had been held back for fear of damaging the merchandise, the only way that the Myrians saw for him to learn how not to was to practice. To hold him back was to cripple him and to cripple the rest of them. While the Myrians sought to be individually strong, they knew better than any just how to come together to form a formidable unit that complemented and backed one another up. There was strength in numbers as long as the whole fang worked together. If they did not, there was an exposed weakness. Weaknesses could be repaired, could be patched, could be strengthened, they could be hidden, but once exposed they revealed an opening, needlessly endangering the whole unit, and that was what the Myrians found simply not permissible.

Myri lifted the shield in readiness as easily as he might have lifted a mouse, and with the staff in hand, her mischievous grin broadened when he growled. "If you have anger, that's good, Mihai. You're going to need that. You've got aggression, that's even better, because you're going to need that too." He had done something right, because she was praising him - she was never effusive in it, and one learned that a quiet word of approval meant a lot coming from the Goddess-Queen. She swung the shield at his slashing claws, letting them rake the metal, causing sparks to fly harmlessly off of it. As big as she was, his weight didn't bother her unduly - her people fought and trained their Tigers this way from cubs, to help enhance their ability to fight. They had their instincts, which was well and good, but some of the prey that they would hunt went against those instincts and defied convention. This was why they practiced. Not just to be good, but to be better. "But in fighting, in war, you must control that anger, harness that aggression to achieve perfection. And you will be perfect. In every aspect. You set the drumbeat of the fight. Never allow your opponent to do so. Keep them unsteady, keep them from getting into their own rhythm. If they do, you have just made it ten times harder on yourself. If they expect you to go left, go right. Thwart them, confuse them, frustrate them at every turn, and watch them fall apart and make mistakes that they cannot recover from. Then you strike to kill." There was a fervid intensity to the way she spoke, that told him that this was something she wanted him to know, to learn, to understand. This wasn't idle talk as she emptied her mind of that which was consuming it - she was deadly serious.

The staff hit his left shoulder - not hard, because she didn't want to break him or hurt him excessively, but it throbbed. A lesson. A reminder. He had given her an opening, and she had taken it. "Lesson one. Always know what you're fighting in. If you can control the terrain, do so to your advantage. If you cannot, know it better than your enemy does." He may have heard that lesson before, prowling around the city as he was wont to do - they were repeated to the little ones endlessly as they trained and grew up, until they internalized them, memorized them, applied them on instinct... and repeated them to the ones younger than them. The faster things like that became instinctual so that they did them without a passing thought, the less time they had to spend analyzing how to proceed and what actions to take.

When he lunged at her, she put her shoulder to the shield, tucking her head out of harm's way, and shoved him backwards, the staff snaking out at where he had been a hair before as she lowered the shield to watch him again, her honey-brown eyes locking on his, knowing how much animals hated to be stared at as she tapped the floor with the butt of the spear, starting a slow rhythm not unlike the drumbeats he heard from the patrols before they set out. A war dance, a request for protection, for favour, for the right to come home once again. When she spoke, there was almost a tiger's snarl in her voice. "Again."

[Mihai]

He snapped immediately at the staff that struck him, warning away a quick follow up attack and buying him time. Animals didn't think much when fighting, but relied upon instinct. Trained warriors too, they fell back upon their training, thinking less in order to get out of their own way. He thought she was preaching the opposite of this, but he was not very wise and so he might have been misinterpreting her wisdom. Even his massive weight would not move her, shoving with all the might he dared against her shield, but not so much that he could not recover if she side-stepped and let him fall. The cadence of her spear butt upon the ground made him think more of the ceremonial dancers than the war drums, though they were, of course, connected. Her snarl made him roar in return, a sound of fury that would cow a lesser creature than the Goddess-Queen. Tail lashing, he backed up and backed up, giving himself room to run at her, more space for velocity and momentum. He roared again, his own music, only occasionally syncing with the rhythm of her spear. Then he launched himself forward, pelting toward her, and just when it seemed he would leap, there was a flash of transformative light, and what had been a rather impressive juvenile tiger became a spindly boy attempting something impossibly brave -- or impossibly foolish -- which was to slide under the Queen of War's shield, bypass her spear by sheer surprise. If he could trip her or trip her up, then he might chance a blow or two that connected. If there were a dagger he could snatch from her person, perhaps that would be ingenious, but he had little hope if hitting her unless she let him. He had bartered his strength and speed for pure innovative daring, but it wasn't like he really had a chance one way or the other. This would hurt, but she would offer constructive criticism one way or the other, and then he would learn and become better.

[Cayenne]

"Lesson two. If you don't want to bleed, learn to avoid the blades," She jabbed at him with the staff, aiming deliberately for his front paws, knowing that connecting there would certainly hurt. With the right amount of pressure, she could shatter the bones there. Footwork was important. For a tiger, more so. Her goal was to unsettle him, to make him move, to try to distract him and make him lose focus. There was always so much going on in a battle that it was easy to lose track of what your opponent was doing. Myri demanded more. She demanded better. The shield on her arm glinted, and she rapped the ground with the long weapon again, always giving him a few instants to move his feet as he roared at her. The Tigress actually roared back with him, encouraging the cub to carry on. Playing hard to get just may have been the way to go after all.

When he backed up, she gave him a moment, only to start advancing on him. "Lesson three. If you have an advantage, use it. You never know when they will use theirs." It didn't make sense for her to end the battle yet, did it? Not if this was supposed to be for practice - that meant something was coming up, and he clearly took those words to heart more than Myri would have expected, because when he shifted, becoming something smaller, thinner, slighter, he found her bending backwards, her shield between her and him somehow, though a thump on the floor from the weapon told him that the movement had been physical as she guided him over her with the shield, carrying through the movement, "Recover quickly," she urged him as he was about to collide with the ground, and there was another thump, another vibration, as she rolled and was on her feet again in the space of breath. "Very good. _Very_ good,". She was grinning, her eyes glinting, even though she still had a defensive stance, which Myri let go of and straightened, setting the weapons aside as she eyed the youngster in front of her, gesturing with her fingers.

"Tackling someone is risky. A good move, but risky. Unless you do it to knock their breath out, to overwhelm them, you must get control of them quickly. Because under you, you struggle to hold me down, and your weight is akimbo. Have a purpose. Subdue. Strike the sensitive spots, where you would expect to make me lose my breath. You must make every moment count when you pull a move like that." He had an opportunity now that she put down her weapons - he could take whatever path he wanted to. All he knew was she was pleased, and she expected to continue, but was letting him decide how he wanted to proceed, to see if he would, perhaps, surprise her yet again.

[Mihai]

He had recovered, scrabbling with human hands to impede his momentum, crouched like a feral boy, eyeing her from under his brow with a predatory gaze that wasn't quite right with his gangling frame, but he would put on muscle now with all the training and the more abundant food. If he survived the training, that was. But all he had in this form was a more creative brain and the twisting, scarlike mark of hers along his rib. The difference in their power was even more pronounced now, so he shifted back to his stronger form with a flash of light. Too many more shifts in too short a period would wear him out, but he was better equipped for this game with weight, speed, claws, and a lower center of gravity. After a few moments' consideration, he circled her and made a rush when her weapons were farthest from her grasp, though he was wary of the weapons likely stashed about her person that she could produce with even more blinding speed than he could charge, his own speed augmented by her favor. His normal way of killing was to drop out of a tree, his weight crushing, his jaws crushing windpipes and spines, his claws used to hold prey in place more than for shredding them to pieces, but he would have to adapt or Master would grow tired of him. He would slam his weight into her, score her flesh with his claws and teeth if she gave him an opening, grapple rather than risk the bite of her spear. He would attack, again and again, until she killed him or she ordered him to stop. This was the deadly game she liked to play and he was her thrall.

[Cayenne]

Myri's plan was to work him until he was finally out of energy. When his body could go no more, then she would be satisfied. Then he could relax, and he would have earned himself another day of respect. The humidity was taxing by itself, though his thick fur insulated him surprisingly well despite it, and her eyes never left his. "A lesser enemy will give themselves away by their eyes," Myri told him. “They’ll look where they want to go. That’s how people ride animals - they look where they want to go, and their body adapts to it. The mounts, in tune with their rider, are receptive to it. But you’re a bit small to be ridden, aren’t you? Maybe by a toddler,” she grinned, taunting and teasing, looking to see if she could unsettle or distract him that way.

Against some, it invariably worked. Myri preached to her people not to let words get to them, that it was only another form of war that they had to guard themselves against. Speech that corrodes, drips, and poisons... psychological warfare was a wonderful thing and a valuable tool. Of course, there were some hotheads that always fell to it - nobody was perfect, it was just the way their personalities went - and some who fought the battle silently, preferring not to waste their breath. Those were the ones who were unshakable because they knew that the words were mere distractions. They were attempts to sway the unflappable, those who got into the mindset where words were as useless as arrows that bounced off of a shield without even notching it.

As fast as he was, she was faster, the shield on her arm once again, her weight against his. Against a mortal, they’d have been in trouble, even a Myrian warrior, against a tiger like him and the way he moved. But Myri was no mere mortal, not anymore. Not for a great many centuries had she been mortal. Perseverance and Dira had rewarded her. Myri simply had never learned when it was time to give up and die. And she planned to never find out. That was one of the things she liked about this young man. He was stubborn. He would go until he could go no further. Claws raked down the metal, sparks flying everywhere as she pushed back against him. He was still between her and the staff, and she began to push back at him to try to make him back up with short hard jabs with the shield, going from side to side as she advanced. "What is your deepest fear, Mihai?"