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Narien walked out early to the field where she'd taught him how to fire a bow the night before. He hadn't had time to practice at all, among the millions of things he was trying to practice, but that wasn't the prerogative today. He stood there for a moment to wait for her, then decided to close his eyes to meditate while he waited, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the field. A piece of wood crudely carved in the shape of a knife was sitting on his lap.
~~
Saira set out a few minutes before their decided meeting time, wringing her hands out at her sides as she went. To her surprise, things had gone well the night before--pleasantly well, despite the odds. But this night, it would be her turn to learn something new, and she had spent a good deal of time fretting over whether or not she would embarrass herself completely, or only a little bit, during this following training session. Narien seemed not the type of person to make a particularly big deal out of such things, but he also was an absolute wild card. She still had yet to work out his character in any meaningful way.
When she arrived, she found Narien sitting on the ground, eyes closed... Meditating. Sitting like that, he looked startlingly peaceful. For a moment she hesitated, not wanting to interrupt, and then decided to sit down beside him. She would wait a little bit before rousing him, or until he noticed she was there.
~~
Narien was rather succeeding at looking like he was meditating properly, in his opinion. "Looking like" being the operative words, there. Keeping his muscles as relaxed as possible was taking an enormous amount of willpower, but he had figured at this point that being only physically relaxed was better than being as tense as a spring all over. As usual, the jumpy feeling that somebody could sneak up on him at any moment had quickly overcome the sense of peace he felt at first closing his eyes, particularly since Agni was not wrapped around him to calm him down. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Don't tense. Don't twitch. Be calm. You are calm.
All of his senses were on high alert, and his poor, over-stressed ears picked up on the quiet rustling that meant someone might be approaching with the composure of a speared boar. It was just the wind, that was all it was. He had to convince himself of that, but when the rustling devolved into a series of sounds next to him, that assured him it was a person and not the wind. He allowed himself to jump in surprise a little and snap his eyes open to look at the "whoever it was." In this case, Sairantha. She was early. Good.
He smiled at her warmly, but didn't stand. Instead, he took the knife sculpture in his lap and placed it on the ground between the two of them. Then, he took out one of his own knives, an unassuming weapon with a worn, wooden handle. The blade had a single edge and about six inches long. Biting his upper lip for a second, he opened his mouth and said with an apologetic look, "I'm probably not going to be the best teacher... especially for fighting that we need to do in the war and all. I can't use a sword, either, so...." He struggled to find the word for a moment, then settled for, "I hope it helps.. anyways."
Taking a deep breath, he took on a slightly more serious, yet almost worried expression, and told her,"Watch carefully, okay?" He shifted more to face her, scooted a little closer, and began fancily swishing the sharp blade around, though keeping it close to his body, so as not to cause her to draw away. The Arcane tamer spun the blade twice on the tip of his fingers, threw it very slightly upwards and caught it by the handle again. Quite suddenly, though, he threw the knife to his right, and in the same motion snatched up the wooden blade with his left hand and made a swift jab with it, stopping the little sculpture a mere breath away from his red-haired "pupil."
His pale blue eyes stared straight at her, still with that slightly serious and worried expression. Still sitting cross-legged across from her, his whole body, from his legs to his outstretched arm, was tense as he watched her, reading her reaction.
~~
Saira had just barely settled when Narien snapped out of his meditation. She was a little disappointed--she didn't mean to rouse him--but it had been done, and so instead of apologizing she returned his smile and watched without a word as he placed the wooden object, a knife, between them and then lifted one of his own blades. It was basic as far as knives went. But as she turned her gaze towards the blade, a simple six inches, she swallowed and felt herself tense the slightest bit. That seemed harder to wield than the dual blades the monks had had her training on. How was one to maneuver in such a small space? The closeness one needed to be to another in order to manipulate such a blade was unpleasant, to say the least, particularly to the redheaded sharpshooter.
Perhaps, she thought, it is best to begin with the difficult road. It makes the other all the easier to travel.
She comforted herself on that musing while Narien looked at her closely, told her to watch, and then began to move. Her eyes studiously followed the movement of the knife, though her mind was derailed with questions. He spun it on his finger, an action that made her flinch, and threw it into the air, which brought an amused grin to her lips. Everybody had their tricks. Narien's little display, she hoped, was just the tip of the iceberg. Though she had no desire to learn how to spin a blade atop her fingers.
Then in one deft movement he lifted the wooden blade from between them and struck forwards. It was by complete reflex that she lifted her hands and pressed the palms tight against either side of the knife to halt its motion. But Narien had already frozen the movement, the tip of the faux knife a hair away from her chest. A fatal strike, had it been real. Would she have responded quick enough to stop a real attack?
The consequences of closeness.
She looked up to meet his solemn eyes with her own. Her own were bright with interest--though he proclaimed not to be 'the best teacher', surely he had an intriguing reason for such an introduction. But in that following moment, it seemed Narien was going to remain silent, and so she spoke instead.
"You certainly move quick,"
~~
Sairantha's reaction was far better than he had expected. To his surprise, she hadn't reacted with anything beyond bringing her hands up to futilely try to stop the blade. Nor did she panic or yell or try to retaliate. It was almost a little to his disappointment that she hadn't seemed to have any difficulty switching focus from his shiny weapon to the little wooden caricature. At her comment, Narien's face lit up brightly and he lowered the wooden knife, worried expression melting away with the tension in his body.
He didn't stand up to go retrieve his knife just yet. The knife itself was irrelevant for the point of that display. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." Scooting back away from her, he let out a long breath. He was still smiling a little, but it softened a bit as the subject was a serious one. "Knives are... useful for a lot of things. You can use them for a lot of things, but they're still... not swords. In a fight, you uhm only have three things you can really use them for. To distract" he waved his right hand in a circular motion of 'general people' "them. Or to scare them, or kill them. That's about it." He took another breath. "So. You don't actually have to learn any of that fancy stuff." He gave a short, almost embarrassed laugh.
Finally standing, he politely handed her the wooden knife and went to languidly pick up his own. "Is that.. do you.. does it kind of make sense?"
~~
Saira accepted the wooden knife, shifting it around her hands for a few moments, testing its balance. It was awkward and lopsided in her hold, by no means balanced correctly, but it would do. Perhaps she would spend the night crafting a more fitting blade, but wondered if Narien would take offense to her replacement of the tool, or if he would be pleased. As usual, it would be difficult, if not impossible, to tell.
Following after Narien and moving to her feet, she nodded and responded, "It does." Or, it did enough. "Which one will we be starting with, then?"
~~
Narien pocketed his knife, with no intention of using it for the rest of the night. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Sairantha playing with her makeshift weapon a little bit, almost uneasily. He had little doubt she didn't like it, and no wonder. He wouldn't have liked it either. It was lighter than a normal knife for certain, but also crude and awkward to hold. But then again, to an extent that was the point.
When she asked him what they'd be starting with, he very solemnly said, "Fight to kill." He didn't quite meet her eyes as he said this, blinking a bit and for a moment shifting his eyes to the side, before taking a breath and facing her directly again. He was several steps away from her, as he breathed in and started talking in that instructional manner again. "Most people don't use knives." He started off simply. "Because they're short. And most people are either usually, uhm, soldier kinds of.. people, which means they were training so.. they know how to use swords. Or they're just... normal people so they wouldn't really have anything to use. Except for farm people. Who would use farm equipment. Mostly the only people who use knives are the ones who think they are going to have to fight on the street." Rambling a little bit as he was, his eyes were also starting to wander, and he picked at the knife in his pocket absent-mindedly, but he turned his attention back fully to her as he tried to explain what his point was in regards to what he was specifically teaching her. "Most of the people you're going to fight are going to have swords, and swords take more work than knives to learn, but- they're also bigger. So. Most of the time, unless- I mean, until you can use a sword. If you have a knife and they have a sword, you're going be the one.. short."
He paused, and then began to count off with his fingers to indicate that his next words were the point of his lesson. One "You have to learn to use whatever happens to be around you. Even if it doesn't feel good, or look pretty." Two "You have to dodge more than other people. People with swords would be okay if another sword hits theirs. If a sword can hit your knife, it can probably hit your hand, too, and if you're already using the short blade, you don't want to also be the one bleeding." Three "You have to keep it as short as possible, because if you don't, you're more likely to lose." Four "Which means you have to go for the kill from the start, and do it fast. It would be nice if it was easy to take someone else's weapon, or knock them out, but it's not going to be."
He put his hand down, and quite seriously said, "You have to be ruthless, because if you hesitate, they'll probably kill you."
Narien had been talking quite a lot, and dumbing down his words to fit his portrayed character was honestly getting taxing when there was so much he wanted to say in such different terms, so he paused for another long breath, but he wasn't done yet. "You're quiet." He said suddenly, in what appeared to be a jarring change of subject, but he didn't let her get in a comment about it, because it wasn't a change of subject at all. "And your reflexes are good, so you can surprise people. Even when they're looking right at you. At least, I think you can. But- you're also used to being far away. And if you're far away, a person with a sword can hit you when you can't hit them." In a burst of movement, he jerked forward and brought his fingers up, stopping right in front of her forehead. "No one's going to expect an archer to want to get very close, so that's exactly what you have to do. And you have to learn to use your quiet and your reflexes to be fast before anyone realizes it."
He stepped away again, looked her gently in the eyes, and told her. "So. You have that knife. Try to kill me. Not as pretend. Really try to kill me with it." He stood there, several feet away from her, unarmed and watching her with a kind of gentle half-smile. Waiting.
~~
Saira listened intently. Knives, it seemed, were an outcast in the weapons world. Most of it were things she already knew; she had never used a knife before in combat in her life, but she knew the idea behind using one. The problem was that principle didn't translate directly into practice. Saira knew she was quick, but would she be quick enough? How many surprises could she pull from her sleeve before she began to draw blanks? Archery didn't demand the same things from her, and she wasn't quite sure how well she would take to these new skills, if at all.
For the most part, though, she was simply determined to try, despite the odds. It was what she was here for.
She stood unflinching as he lunged forward once more, fingers just before her forehead. She knew he wasn't going to hurt her, but the message was still made clear. Get close, be fast, be ruthless. I can do that, she thought. But then he stepped back and surprised her.
"What?" she asked, brows furrowing into a frown. The idea was almost laughable. In no way could she look at Narien and see somebody that she was meant to kill. Even when she trained with others, it was simply a competitive spar, nothing one could consider an attempt at murder. That's what it sounded like to her, anyways. Was it really training if one was trying to kill the other? "I mean, I guess if that's what I need to do..." But I don't like it.
A few seconds passed as she simply looked him up and down, unsure of what to do. She'd fought with swords before, but that was different on many levels--she'd had an active target, and was using swords, a totally different weapon. She couldn't make a slice or sweeping movement with a knife, especially with the distance between them. A stabbing motion seemed completely useless as well. Clenching her teeth in frustration, she decided to just make something up, lunging forward and to his left with a motion to his neck with the faux knife, as though to stab the artery there.
~~
Narien watched her after he'd given her the command. She looked, well... flabbergasted. He wanted so hard to laugh, but he kept his face in that gently smiling, neutral expression. Oh gods he wanted to laugh.That look on her face. Clearly, she'd never even considered the idea of actually just trying to use a wood knife to kill somebody. It didn't seem to be the material of the knife, either, but the concept of training like that. "If that's what I need to do" indeed. Yes, that is what is required of you, naive little Sairantha. He thought spitefully. She didn't really seem to know what to do with a knife. She'd probably had some training with proper swords, but from the start he hadn't been intending to train her as one did with a sword. The two were fundamentally different things in every respect. One does not practice sparring with knives. If you got in a real spar with knives, it was astronomically easy to end up dead, especially with an amateur swinging wildly and unpredictably.
She stared at him wordlessly for a bit. Could she do it? The kid from Solona didn't think so. And while he didn't plan on seriously injuring her right before such an important battle, he did plan on teaching her that no one was going to pull their punches just because she did. Punches were survivable, a stab to the gut was not.
To his delight, she finally made a move. She gave a great jerk forward towards his left. Whether she knew it or not, he considered that a good instinct to have. Most people liked to go across to the other person's right. The diagonal was just natural, but most people were weaker on their left, after all. He'd underestimated her, thinking she wouldn't seriously attack him. He jerked himself to the right, to avoid the clumsy stab and in the same motion reached up with his left hand to grab her outstretched arm for long enough to curl his right hand into a fist and punch her hard in the stomach.
Letting her go quickly, he backed away. He was still smiling gently, but a note of apology was also creasing his forehead. The motion had been little enough that it hadn't disturbed his breathing patterns yet. "Knives are hard because they're short. You have to get close, but- that means the other person is close, too. When you strike, you have to have a back up plan to move away, or someone is going to use it. Uhm- but don't do what I just did... unless the other person doesn't seem prepared." He explained hastily, breath coming out of him in a rush as he spoke. "You don't want to control another person's knife. That's hard. Especially if they're bigger or stronger than you. Not that I am!" He flushed slightly. That hadn't been his implication at all. But he swallowed and continued. "You just- want to make sure that it's pointing somewhere else. That's easy. When someone misses a swing, that's when their guard is most down, their balance is the most off, and usually in that case you're close enough that- it's useful." Stepping further back away from her, he added, "But remember knives are dangerous. What would have happened if I'd had my knife in hand instead of using my fist?" He wanted her to very seriously think about it, and the apology in his forehead turned to slight anxiety. Narien oddly enough, found himself genuinely worrying about her for a second with a swing like that, but he squashed the feeling under the amusement he was feeling. Oh gods did he want to laugh.
~~
His punch knocked the breath right from her, which she released in one big huff as she bent forward with the force of the blow. Saira'd been hit harder before, mostly by her brother and uncle both in their own attempts at teaching her to handle a blade, but she hadn't expected it from Narien. He's stronger than he looks, she thought, hearing Aerarya's laughter through the bond. Both arms were wrapped around her stomach as she recovered, listening to what he had to say.
He's starting to become quite the talker, too, she added, since it had seemed Aerarya was tuning in for the show.
He's enjoying beating you up, Aerarya teased. Make me proud Saira! Get him!
She sighed inwardly. She'd have better luck growing wings and flying alongside the dragons. But she would still try. He was stepping away from her now, this apologetic look plastered on his face, though a flicker of amusement reached his eyes--he thought she was funny. Her own features hardened with determination. Slowly, she straightened her back, and then she answered his question with another swipe at his neck, her hand holding the knife stretching out in a feint attack before pulling back to her chest as she stepped back to avoid the reach of his arms while sweeping out one leg to catch his ankles and drag him off his feet.
~~
Woops. Narien saw the moment Sairantha's expression stiffened. She'd caught him trying not to laugh. That's what he got for trying to train with someone who he already suspected had him under watch. It was both a good and a bad thing, he supposed. If she was annoyed, she was more likely to take him, and this whole situation, seriously, but on the other hand, he'd rather she take it seriously without him having to irritate her first. With more control and purpose than before, she attacked again. He jerked back as she took a slash at his neck, only to realize that it had been a feint as she herself swung back a little and yanked him off his feet.
He fell.
Narien hated falling. Falling in a fight meant a lot of very bad things, especially falling to one side, as he was. Without thinking about it, he twisted to face the fall and tucked his head in to do a roll. He'd figured out that somersaults could save your neck by watching a bar fight, and had practiced it over and over and over again, until it had one day saved his life, in a situation a lot like this. Except that time it had been cobblestones, and the opponent actually had been trying to kill him. He jumped up and twisted to face her, yanking his knife out and holding it with a reverse grip, pale eyes creepily intense for a moment, as he prepared to ward off the next attack. Narien. A voice snapped in his head, and he immediately dropped the knife on the ground, though his arms stayed up, and his feet took him backwards to give him hopefully a little more time to assess where she was going to attack next.
~~
Saira was successful, but Narien was only down for moments before he rolled and was back on his feet. She pulled herself back from the attack she had begun to make and ended up standing face to face with him, though there was now some distance between them, and there was a metal glint in his hand. It was his knife. He dropped it as quickly as he had pulled it out, as though the metal was hot and scalding, and took another step away. She frowned, but didn't question him, and instead focused on her following attack.
It was becoming clear to her that she couldn't land an actual blow, fatal or otherwise, on Narien. It also seemed unlikely that he was going to strike first--retaliatory, but not an active fighter. But she could keep moving until, hopefully, the chance came. She lunged again for his left, stopping a foot away and then switching right, her hand positioned once more for his neck. But just before she would have made her attack, she switched the wooden knife from her right to her left hand, now positioning it for a stab at his stomach. She ducked her head down, hoping to avoid any more nasty blows.
~~
In a flash, Sairantha double-feinted. Attention properly squared on her now, Narien caught the first feint, but almost didn't catch the second one. Switching her knife from her right to her left was a surprising move, considering she claimed to be unfamiliar with knives overall. Perhaps she was a better liar than he was, and had just said that to get a practice partner. If not, well, he supposed he had to give either her instincts or creativity a lot of credit. A nicely surprising move, but unless you were left-hand dominant, which she did not seem to be, the left was weaker for most. Strikes wouldn't have as much power and would be less coordinated. On top of which, she jerked her head down, which meant either her visibility or her aim would be just slightly impaired. This nonsensically ran in a stream through his head, as he jumped backwards. The wooden knife tip just barely poked his stomach. It was a hit, just not one that would've killed him or even fully slowed him down. His right leg shot up the second his feet planted, attempting to deliver a kick that would make her lose the knife in the best case scenario. Worst case scenario, she'd use it to make him fall again, or he'd kick her in the face and actually thoroughly tick her off.
~~
Saying that Saira made a misjudgment would be a severe understatement.
She hadn't expected him to kick. If anything, she expected him to maybe make a stab at best, but more likely she assumed he would dodge--step away, move to the side--or anything other than make a kick at her upper body. And yet, he did, and she had made the stupid decision to keep her head low in the hopes of avoiding the blow to the face that she inadvertently set herself up for.
In the split second before his kick connected, Saira turned her head just slightly, leaving the impact to hit the side of her face instead of dead on. The force of it sent her falling to the ground on all fours, blood already dripping from her nose. For a moment, she knelt there in shock, cheek red and a nasty bruise beginning to circle around her eye. She carefully felt along the bridge of her nose for breaks, and finding none, wiped her sleeve across her nose and spat on the ground. How long had it been since she was hit quite like that? She couldn't remember.
Clenching her fists, she staggered to her feet and lunged immediately into her next strike, the wooden knife aimed high.
~~
Narien was half impressed and half horrified by what happened as his foot went up. Impressed because Sairantha had the reflexes to avoid a frontal blow. Horrified because the last thing he had wanted to do was kick her in the face. Disarm her? Yes, but he had severely misjudged how weak her attack had been and how close she was. His depth perception must be going. Or he must be rusty from not having fought anyone in a while. Either way, it was bad. "Ah! Sorry!" He cried, both in keeping with his outer character and an expression of the very real mistake he had made.
Her nose was bleeding, and she took a moment to check for breaks and give a nasty spit. It was usually a moment he would have stepped on the assailant's hand, or gone for a downward stab, but that was not the point of this exercise he reminded himself harshly as he gave her that brief pause.
She got up and made a sloppy lunge to his right. He saw his chance. In an almost dancing step, he ducked down under her arm, coming uncomfortably close enough to be giving her a hug. He pulled out a much shorter knife with his right hand in a foregrip, and spun on the balls of his feet, rotating his body harshly clockwise. His hand came up and, with the added momentum of the spin of his feet, the knife nearly went straight into her skull. But at the last second, he paused for just the briefest of moments. Her reflexes were clearly very good, so as short a time as this was, for her this was a chance. She could pull her right hand back to try and get in an awkward stab, though he doubted she'd make it in time if she did that, or just use her left to try and punch him - a blow he had no chance of escaping, though he was anticipating it... not that she knew that. If she didn't take the chance, however, he would flip his hand over so the back of his fist, fortified by the knife hilt, was facing her and would then proceed to hit her hard in the head. Hard enough to stun for a few minutes, not permanently injure. Some part of him had just wanted to let the knife continue its course, but thankfully his logical brain still had control.
~~
Within seconds Narien had found his way into Saira's personal space, their faces close enough to feel the breath of the other. Her mind, still stunned and dazed from the kick he delivered to her face and the events that had followed, took a moment to process their proximity, and to notice that he had a knife--not the one from before that he had dropped, but a different one--poised by her head, ready to strike. Would he do it? Saira realized that she wasn't sure if Narien would or not. He had punched her in the stomach, and then kicked her in the face, and now had her in a gridlock, both arms at her sides but unable to do anything to defend herself with his close proximity. But she had noticed his hesitation. He had given her time to think, just enough to make a decision before he carried into his next movement.
Saira grit her teeth. As quickly as she could, she lifted her hands and pushed, palms on Narien's shoulders, throwing all of her weight into it and some air mana for good measure. She wasn't strong, but she had surprise and growing skill in manipulating the air to help. As they fell, she twisted the grip of the wooden knife in her hand, searching eagerly for the position that would put the pair into checkmate.
~~
For the third time in so many minutes, Sairantha surprised him in the most unpleasant fashion. Narien had expected a number of things. He had expected her to hit him with her left, to try and stab him from the back, or even try headbutt him. He knew she was physically capable, she had demonstrated that in her first two attacks, and so he had expected her to stop her own momentum and recoil. The one thing he had not expected was for her to plunge forward and quite literally bowl him over. He had either overestimated her physical ability, or underestimated the extent of her anger, and either way he'd made another in a series of miscalculations.
Had he ever mentioned he hated falling? Yes, you did. Agni informed him mentally, irritating him slightly with her quiet amusement. One thing he hated a great deal more than falling was falling because someone else was on top of him. His first instinct was to go ahead and let the knife plunge deep into her neck. It was the natural move when his hand was already right there. He could feel her shifting the wooden knife against his shoulder, getting ready to press it against him. Wood. Metal. He had the advantage. That was, IF he wanted to kill her. Since he didn't, well, he had only one option.
As they began falling, he chucked his knife with all his strength over her shoulder away from the two of them, and grabbed her by the lapel with both hands, somewhat mimicking what she was doing to him. Although this was not at all how he had wanted to fall, he took advantage of her added force (had she always been this heavy or strong?) and tried to bodily heave her upwards. This was going to hurt for both of them, because he could not brace his neck. Don't land on your head, don't land on your head. He prayed to Sairantha with all of his might. If he hurt her seriously, he was dead. Dead dead dead. She was one of their best archers, ambassador to the something or other. Dead dead dead. At the very least he knew both of his chucked knives were not close by. Having to worry about that too would just be awful. As his feet left the ground, he began pulling his knees up. This would serve two purposes. The first was to make a little space between him and Sairantha, the other was....
His back landed hard on the grass and forced all of the breath from his lungs, but he ignored the pain. This would be better if they were doing it onto an elevated surface. This would be better if he didn't give a fig about whether or not she actually died. This would be better if she were not falling on top of him so he could just turn to face the roll and tuck his head in. No, you know what, this would all just be better if he was not falling at all and did not have to be doing this. With the momentum of his knees jerking up, his body began to roll backwards, and he gave his legs a final kick up to get Sairantha's body to do the same. Had she been any heavier, or her push any weaker, it might have turned out to be a disaster, but as it was, by some miracle, he managed to flip both of them over. His hands slammed her shoulders into the ground, and his knees landed painfully on either side of her, just barely dodging the possibility that he would break one of her leg bones.
For the first time in the fight, he was breathing quite hard, but he didn't have any time to stop, quickly pressing his hands against her wrists and his ankles across hers in a loose pin. "Stop." He said, with a pant. "Please?" He asked with a lopsided smile, not the least bit certain she wouldn't get up and start attacking him again the minute she got her breath back.
~~
One moment, Saira was ready to proclaim her victory with a smile and a laugh. The next, her back was slamming into the ground, her head following suit. She yelped with the shock of it, only to get a mouthful of fresh blood as Narien pinned her to the ground--not hard, as she could easily squirm free from his hold, but quick, with the speed of a viper. The wooden knife fell from her hand as his palm pinched the pressure point on her wrist, and she noticed his knife was gone, too. Smart boy, she thought as she rolled her head to the side, spitting out the blood into the grass.
At least he was finally out of breath, although it was the roll and not the fight that Narien had exerted any effort into. Saira still felt oddly proud, and for a moment considered continuing the fight, but the throbbing in the back of her head and her stomach made up her mind. "Yeah," she said, voice somewhat nasally. "You win this time." She twisted one hand free from Narien's pin and wiped off her face again before looking at her bloodied sleeve with a groan. "What a mess. But I think I've learned my lesson."
~~
Sairantha spat blood out to one side and pulled one hand free, but it seemed she was done attacking. "Lesson?" He blinked at her as if to say, "there was a lesson?" He clambered off of her and offered her one hand to help her up. "Are you alright?" His breath was slowly slowing down again. Agni lumbered out of the stables with something in her mouth. It was his first aid kit, an object he practically worshiped. You're overdoing it. He told Agni, but she just dropped it on the ground and curled up next to the two of them gracefully. He took a little cloth he kept specifically for nose bleeds, rolled them into bits and offered them to the archer. Other than that, she didn't appear very injured. A little winded and in bruised, but nothing appeared broken. "I didn't mean to kick you in the face." He said quietly, looking away apologetically.
But then he smiled a little childishly and added, "But I guess now we know what makes you angry." It was a tentative attempt at a joke. He'd known her for so short a time, perhaps she would think it rude. "Next time you fight someone you can just picture my face instead of theirs, and I know you'll be great." He went to go retrieve his knives and became a little more serious. "Really, though, you're already pretty good. You didn't hold back, and kept being... surprising. I was really surprised." He smiled, as if not realizing how rude that might have sounded, genuinely meaning to praise her.
"Anyways. I think we should stop for now. You already proved I don't... really have much to teach you. You just need practice." He told her, "So I'm going to give you one of my knives. Close your eyes." He smiled at her again, this time in a reassuring fashion. "Go on, I promise I won't do anything to you. Just close your eyes."
When she had complied, he leaned down, and began pulling knives off of his person. It was something of a sordid display. While normally Narien only kept three knives at a time on him, because otherwise they weighed him down, he had brought all of them out with him today for this exact purpose, not that he was going to tell her that. Each one had its place, concealed and secured in specific pockets in his clothing. When he was done, a total of nine lay between the two of them. He had ten, but he was never going to give her the six-inch wood-handle knife. It had been the first one he had obtained, and his favorite for its simplicity, size, and familiarity. The remaining nine were of a variety of lengths and designs, some pointlessly opulent, others incredibly simple. Every last one had been stolen.
While there were some he did not think she was yet ready to try and use, he took them all out anyways. Coming back up to Sairantha, he instructed softly, "Keep your eyes closed and hold out your right hand? I'm going to put the knives one at a time in your hand. Don't look at them, just feel them. They're all going to feel a little bit strange at first, so you can try them more than once, okay?" Even though she wasn't looking at him, he continued smiling in that reassuring manner, his voice equally quiet and soothing, as if speaking to a small animal. He wasn't really certain why he was doing that, but it simply felt right for his character, he supposed. How stupid. "Pick three you like best and I'll give you the longest one." To make up for her clear discomfort with close-proximity, and the reach disadvantage any knife user was at against a sword.
After gifting her the knife, he gave her an assignment. "So... from now on, you should keep trying. If I'm not reading, trying your archery, or using my rope, try to kill me, any time. Even if I'm doing some other.. training.. thingy." With reading and archery, he was worried the books or bow might get damaged, but with the rope, it was simply that he did not want to fight her when wielding a rope. He was teaching her to try and kill with a knife, yes, but they could also be used to defend, to distract, threaten, or wound. The only time he had actively fought with ropes, on the other hand, had been to wrap it around someone's neck and pull as hard and fast as you can. Best case scenario, you snap their neck in one go. Worst case, you waste time and energy strangling them to death. And unlike a knife it was not an item you could drop and pick up simply. Drop it too close to your feet and it could tangle and become a hindrance. If she tried to kill him when he had a rope in his hands, the chances exponentially went up that either one of them would end up dead or seriously wounded.
"You can keep the wooden knife, too, if it scares you less. Keep trying to surprise me. Don't worry, I'll be okay." This was not necessarily true. She had gotten pretty close to getting one or the other of them killed in the span of a few very short minutes, and this being her first time, but at the very least he was confident that he could prevent HER from getting seriously hurt, and the coldly logical part of his brain told him that the Order needed her a great deal more than they needed him, which was just fine by his standards. Very solemnly, he went on to say, "I can't really teach you anything, because there isn't really... uhm... techniques, I guess? For knives, you learn what feels right by yourself. It's all kind of different for everyone. So... I can give you little tips but, the way you use it best is just something you'll get if you practice lots."
Hesitantly, he added, "Also... I just wanted to say... thanks. For believing in me. Thinking that I could teach you, when I've never really taught anyone before. It... seems kind of silly, but it means a lot." And then he gave her a bright smile and a pat on the shoulder.
~~
"Oh, I'm perfectly fine," Saira said with a reassuring smile, accepting the cloth Narien offered after she was back on her feet and working to clean up her face. With two fingers pinched across the bridge of her nose, her voice was uncharacteristically high pitched, but she didn't seem to pay it any mind, though she did stop talking afterwards. Narien was already continuing on, and she wasn't about to interrupt him. Not to mention, she was still out of breath, and didn't want to give him any reason to gloat by showing it.
He doesn't seem the type, Aerarya piped up.
It was hard to tell what type of person Narien was. One minute, it looked like he was struggling with his words, and the next, he was stopping himself from pulling a knife on her. For now, he seemed genuine, attempting a joke--to which she offered a chuckle--and compliments for her performance. In her eyes, it was little more than luck that gave her attempts any surprising element to them. Or, perhaps Narien was just trying to be nice. It puzzled her, and she was puzzled further as he asked her to close her eyes, stating that he was going to gift her one of his knives.
One of his knives? How many could he possibly have?
"Okay," she said with a nod of her head. He could be trying to trick her, but she closed her eyes anyways. She could hear him moving around, the soft sound of metal against leather and fabric, and realizing it wasn't a trick, allowed herself to relax. She extended his hand on his instruction, and waited patiently as he moved each knife to her hand, letting her feel the grip and balance of the small weapon before trying the next one. She didn't comment how it was silly she had to have her eyes closed, or that he was giving her a knife in the first place. It was hard to imagine her ever using it. Would there be a place for it at Kuhl? At anywhere else? Despite the doubt, the thought of strange Narien giving a gift was still somewhat warming.
Throughout the course of Narien's little show and tell, he placed nine different blades into her hand. Each was different; one had a grip so incredibly bulky, it was astounding it could be used efficiently at all, while another felt more top heavy than any sword she had ever carried in her life. Some were lightweight, like the throwing knives she had once practiced with at home, and others had a strange balance to them, like they weren't entirely straight in their shape. After holding each of the blades, she obliged him and mentioned which three she liked the best, and opened her eyes after he placed on in her hand.
The knife in her hand was almost too long to be considered a knife, but was definitely too short to be called a sword. Its blade was thin, but as she touched a finger to the edge, she found it surprisingly sharp to her surprise. While the length of the thing made her nerves shaky, the grip was comforting in her hand, almost like a homage to her bow. After looking at the knife in her hands for a moment, she looked back up at Narien with a smile. "Thanks,"
"And you're welcome," she said as he pat her on the shoulder. "You make a good teacher. It might not seem like you have anything to actually share, but you do. I'm only surprising because I don't know what I'm doing." She laughed lightly as she picked up the wooden knife from the ground, holding it alongside the gifted knife in one hand. Then she stopped and gave Narien a long look. "But I'm learning by watching you. Just don't hold back next time. I'll never improve if you keep giving me chances."
The bleeding had finally begun to cease. "I have to go. This shirt will be ruined if I don't wash up soon. But this was... actually kind of fun."
As she turned to leave, a thought came to her mind that made her halt. Looking back, she looked at him and said, "And maybe next time, you might actually manage to anger me, Narien Ki'ila. Before I get too handy with this knife."
~~
Heh. Getting cocky, wasn't she? As he left, Narien watched her go in benevolent silence, one hand stroking Agni's nose. The expression on his face was a calm, empty smile, but he was laughing hysterically in his head. He'd seen something interesting. He'd seen Little Miss Equanimity get irritated, and he'd seen her get cocky. So it had a heart after all. Interesting. How very interesting.
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The new woman's impatience made Narien smile in genuine amusement. Everyone else seemed too gallant to say it themselves, and he wouldn't have felt right expressing his impatience. Perhaps it was a little gratitude. Goliath's stretches also made him crack a genuine smile. While in no way posturing, there was something just really funny about the way the larger man's movements and his shed shirt flashily showed off his distinct muscles. That was beside the point, however. Stretching was a good idea, so Narien ventured a few before beginning the course himself. The Arcane tamer did not take off his shirt. While he could appreciate the reasoning behind doing so, as a shirt would likely become unpleasantly sticky with sweat - he must still have some trust in human nature, he thought mockingly to himself, to believe it wasn't just to show off the other man's sculpted chest and abdomen - his scars were not something he wanted to put on display. Not every wound he'd received had left a mark on his body, but those that did were the big ones, the ugliest ones. He did, however, take off his shoes. Shoes were very useful, but he felt better without them, as if he had better control over his feet.
