TIMESTAMP: 34 Frost 123
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NOTES: -
► Show Spoiler
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After an exchange of pleasantries between the two, "you've recovered well, I see," Æros noted; for the last time the two had met, the other was barely clinging to consciousness at the time farewells were exchanged.
The boy smiled, and wearing a boisterous expression, "...yes! My progress with the rune is proceeding apace, too. I've a knack for it, I'm told; I've already developed enough to form a pact with my second weapon and wield both at once."
"Oh?" Æros looked at the lad inquisitively. "Do you not balk at the pain when you demanifest both at once? Or do you taper that by demanifesting one at a time?"
The Vastian sniggered at the question, as if it were something silly to ask. "Do you take me as weak?" His expression shifted to something more mischievous. "...and no, I don't shy away from pain." This sounded flirtatious, almost, and, with the expression the other wore, it most certainly was.
Touching his tongue to the roof of his mouth, Æros considered his response. As if to tease the other, he made a point of slowly looking the boy over before saying anything at all. "Mm, really? I'll keep that in mind," he winked at him as he said this.
After saying that, the pair of them were soon within earshot of the commander and the wily Vastian had to stifle the urge to continue his rather bold flirting with his social superior. He did, however, stop to inquire: "Would you mind if I stick around to observe…?" Even if he had somewhere to be, it was worth asking Æros directly, because if he wished it, Asim would relent and allow the other to stay.
"If you'd like, I certainly don't have any objections...and I am not one to ever decline an audience." A performer at heart, he did lavish the attention of those who would appreciate him. Further, Æros' affirmative response brightened the boy's expression almost immediately.
At that, Asim resisted the urge to laugh, for the young one's interest in their guest was painfully obvious. He remembered what it was like to be young and to have infatuations like this; as such, it was completely harmless to let the lad observe their sparring, he thought.
“Salve, Dominus.” The commander’s tone was deferential, yet smooth and level; it was a stark contrast to the starry-eyed enthusiasm that the younger Reaver regarded Æros with. Though charismatic, he was quite the stoic fellow. “Have the days been treating you well?”
“Me, personally? Well enough. It’s been a bit busy, what with the nation’s current state of affairs, but I do enjoy my work.” There was some strain that he neglected to mention; his lover’s odd excursion out to Ecith had caused the both of them a lot of undue stress, but that wasn’t something he intended to vent about to someone who was, ostensibly, little more than an acquaintance. “And you?”
“Much the same. The shift of governance caused a bit of an upset to everyone, though I imagine it was more noticeable to you than I.” There was a brief pause before the commander continued, “...but for today, I request you refrain from using any of your magic. I’d like to focus entirely on your bladework. During your actual initiation, however, no holds need be barred, then- use your æther as you see fit.”
“I’m of the same mind. What magic I do have comes to me as naturally as breathing; swordwork…? Not as much.” As much as it did vex him not to use any Craft he possessed, he understood that he’d learn far more without it. On top of that, some scenarios would involve warding against magic, as he had learned the hard way but only a month ago. He knew well the value of learning to fight without it.
That being said, there was little to go over beyond some few simple rules; Asim informed Æros that each bout was won when one of them landed a blow that would prove potent were their weapons not blunted, designed for sparring. And lastly, Asim would warn that he would not hold. Following Æros’ acknowledgment, they would begin.
The match would be a mirror– the commander was experienced with a wide array of weaponry, but for this, both would be using a similar khopesh to the one that the starlit senator intended to form a pact with. It was briefly mentioned that, when using a single blade, the khopesh was really meant to be used in tandem with a shield. However, Æros’ reasoning for foregoing the use of one was that he intended to use his other arm for means more magical in actual combat. Asim rose a brow at this, but relented to the whims of the other. The purpose of them using the same weapon, though, was so he could also learn from observing the way the senior combatant moved and reacted in the moment. To this end, Æros would invoke some use of Semblance for the sake of a deeper understanding as opposed to searching for advantages. The tell-tale glint of golden limbal rings that went alongside the Craft’s use did not go unnoticed by Asim, but he chose not to comment, giving the patrician the benefit of the doubt.
The first move was made by the commander, rushing at Æros at a speed that blurred the lines between what was physically possible and what required something preternatural to achieve, and yet no flex of æther on his end was detected. The horned hybrid leapt back at an angle, causing the other man to miss. He turned, spinning on his heels and narrowly avoiding a flurry of follow-up strikes. He had immediately been put on the backfoot, forced to react instead of taking the offensive for himself, but his evasive maneuvers were quick and deft, possessing residual grace from his consummate skill as a dancer.
His opponent’s assault was unrelenting, Asim granting Æros no quarter. Yet despite this, no blows were landed. Given his dearth of experience, he did not expect this to be easy, but even with Semblance, he found himself unable to spot any real weaknesses in the other’s defenses. And even with the quirks of his anatomy he’d been gifted and maintained by way of his Fæ heritage, he doubted he could dodge like this forever. The Vastian warrior’s endurance was not something to scoff at, either; it was hard to tell which one of them would tire first, and Æros certainly could not rely on something like that to gain an advantage. He’d have to devise a window and then take it himself.
With dark gaze locked on the other’s form as he maintained his own momentum, Æros soon realized he’d likely have to rely on a parry-counter to win, either that, or catch the older man’s arm with the curve of his own blade; elsewise, he struggled to see himself landing much. Asim could read him well, too; the man was not only a masterful warrior by his own right, but he’d been a teacher for a long time, predicting the moves of apprentices was not a tough task. Parrying was a bit antithetical to the intent behind a khopesh’s design, but backed into a corner as he was, going on the offensive to strike in a chopping manner just didn’t appear viable.
Sparks flew and the ring of metal on metal sang through the air as blades collided, yet with this first attempt, the eldritch elf fell back from the other man’s force, yielding and having to retreat off to the side. Æros was big, and though a bit shorter, so was Asim– both men were strong, and Æros had underestimated the full force of the other’s strength. Before he could gather his sense, the older man’s blade stopped just short of striking his neck. The first round went to Asim.
Once Æros stood, he uttered a single word, “...again,” and their dance resumed despite the weight of exertion now pressing down on them both. Growing more used to the rhythm of the other’s body, the half-elf managed to spot strain in the other, and taking advantage of that, he was eventually able to dodge a particularly heavy strike. In doing so, he twisted himself ‘round and arced his own blade in a chopping motion down on the back of the other man. Once he realized his hit would connect, he immediately let up on his use of force, his intent not being to actually injure his opponent.
They dueled a few more times, but with the weight of their chosen weapon and the Fæ’s evasive nature drawing such things out, the two of them quickly tired. Given their disparity in skill, Æros besting him even once was a good thing, and a positive indication that he was not doomed in pursuit of this rune. With the ability to actually use his magic, too, he figured he would be fine in his initiation.
Æros stayed for a bit once they concluded to rest, recover and idly socialize with those present before making his way back down to the Umbrium.
The boy smiled, and wearing a boisterous expression, "...yes! My progress with the rune is proceeding apace, too. I've a knack for it, I'm told; I've already developed enough to form a pact with my second weapon and wield both at once."
"Oh?" Æros looked at the lad inquisitively. "Do you not balk at the pain when you demanifest both at once? Or do you taper that by demanifesting one at a time?"
The Vastian sniggered at the question, as if it were something silly to ask. "Do you take me as weak?" His expression shifted to something more mischievous. "...and no, I don't shy away from pain." This sounded flirtatious, almost, and, with the expression the other wore, it most certainly was.
Touching his tongue to the roof of his mouth, Æros considered his response. As if to tease the other, he made a point of slowly looking the boy over before saying anything at all. "Mm, really? I'll keep that in mind," he winked at him as he said this.
After saying that, the pair of them were soon within earshot of the commander and the wily Vastian had to stifle the urge to continue his rather bold flirting with his social superior. He did, however, stop to inquire: "Would you mind if I stick around to observe…?" Even if he had somewhere to be, it was worth asking Æros directly, because if he wished it, Asim would relent and allow the other to stay.
"If you'd like, I certainly don't have any objections...and I am not one to ever decline an audience." A performer at heart, he did lavish the attention of those who would appreciate him. Further, Æros' affirmative response brightened the boy's expression almost immediately.
At that, Asim resisted the urge to laugh, for the young one's interest in their guest was painfully obvious. He remembered what it was like to be young and to have infatuations like this; as such, it was completely harmless to let the lad observe their sparring, he thought.
“Salve, Dominus.” The commander’s tone was deferential, yet smooth and level; it was a stark contrast to the starry-eyed enthusiasm that the younger Reaver regarded Æros with. Though charismatic, he was quite the stoic fellow. “Have the days been treating you well?”
“Me, personally? Well enough. It’s been a bit busy, what with the nation’s current state of affairs, but I do enjoy my work.” There was some strain that he neglected to mention; his lover’s odd excursion out to Ecith had caused the both of them a lot of undue stress, but that wasn’t something he intended to vent about to someone who was, ostensibly, little more than an acquaintance. “And you?”
“Much the same. The shift of governance caused a bit of an upset to everyone, though I imagine it was more noticeable to you than I.” There was a brief pause before the commander continued, “...but for today, I request you refrain from using any of your magic. I’d like to focus entirely on your bladework. During your actual initiation, however, no holds need be barred, then- use your æther as you see fit.”
“I’m of the same mind. What magic I do have comes to me as naturally as breathing; swordwork…? Not as much.” As much as it did vex him not to use any Craft he possessed, he understood that he’d learn far more without it. On top of that, some scenarios would involve warding against magic, as he had learned the hard way but only a month ago. He knew well the value of learning to fight without it.
That being said, there was little to go over beyond some few simple rules; Asim informed Æros that each bout was won when one of them landed a blow that would prove potent were their weapons not blunted, designed for sparring. And lastly, Asim would warn that he would not hold. Following Æros’ acknowledgment, they would begin.
The match would be a mirror– the commander was experienced with a wide array of weaponry, but for this, both would be using a similar khopesh to the one that the starlit senator intended to form a pact with. It was briefly mentioned that, when using a single blade, the khopesh was really meant to be used in tandem with a shield. However, Æros’ reasoning for foregoing the use of one was that he intended to use his other arm for means more magical in actual combat. Asim rose a brow at this, but relented to the whims of the other. The purpose of them using the same weapon, though, was so he could also learn from observing the way the senior combatant moved and reacted in the moment. To this end, Æros would invoke some use of Semblance for the sake of a deeper understanding as opposed to searching for advantages. The tell-tale glint of golden limbal rings that went alongside the Craft’s use did not go unnoticed by Asim, but he chose not to comment, giving the patrician the benefit of the doubt.
The first move was made by the commander, rushing at Æros at a speed that blurred the lines between what was physically possible and what required something preternatural to achieve, and yet no flex of æther on his end was detected. The horned hybrid leapt back at an angle, causing the other man to miss. He turned, spinning on his heels and narrowly avoiding a flurry of follow-up strikes. He had immediately been put on the backfoot, forced to react instead of taking the offensive for himself, but his evasive maneuvers were quick and deft, possessing residual grace from his consummate skill as a dancer.
His opponent’s assault was unrelenting, Asim granting Æros no quarter. Yet despite this, no blows were landed. Given his dearth of experience, he did not expect this to be easy, but even with Semblance, he found himself unable to spot any real weaknesses in the other’s defenses. And even with the quirks of his anatomy he’d been gifted and maintained by way of his Fæ heritage, he doubted he could dodge like this forever. The Vastian warrior’s endurance was not something to scoff at, either; it was hard to tell which one of them would tire first, and Æros certainly could not rely on something like that to gain an advantage. He’d have to devise a window and then take it himself.
With dark gaze locked on the other’s form as he maintained his own momentum, Æros soon realized he’d likely have to rely on a parry-counter to win, either that, or catch the older man’s arm with the curve of his own blade; elsewise, he struggled to see himself landing much. Asim could read him well, too; the man was not only a masterful warrior by his own right, but he’d been a teacher for a long time, predicting the moves of apprentices was not a tough task. Parrying was a bit antithetical to the intent behind a khopesh’s design, but backed into a corner as he was, going on the offensive to strike in a chopping manner just didn’t appear viable.
Sparks flew and the ring of metal on metal sang through the air as blades collided, yet with this first attempt, the eldritch elf fell back from the other man’s force, yielding and having to retreat off to the side. Æros was big, and though a bit shorter, so was Asim– both men were strong, and Æros had underestimated the full force of the other’s strength. Before he could gather his sense, the older man’s blade stopped just short of striking his neck. The first round went to Asim.
Once Æros stood, he uttered a single word, “...again,” and their dance resumed despite the weight of exertion now pressing down on them both. Growing more used to the rhythm of the other’s body, the half-elf managed to spot strain in the other, and taking advantage of that, he was eventually able to dodge a particularly heavy strike. In doing so, he twisted himself ‘round and arced his own blade in a chopping motion down on the back of the other man. Once he realized his hit would connect, he immediately let up on his use of force, his intent not being to actually injure his opponent.
They dueled a few more times, but with the weight of their chosen weapon and the Fæ’s evasive nature drawing such things out, the two of them quickly tired. Given their disparity in skill, Æros besting him even once was a good thing, and a positive indication that he was not doomed in pursuit of this rune. With the ability to actually use his magic, too, he figured he would be fine in his initiation.
Æros stayed for a bit once they concluded to rest, recover and idly socialize with those present before making his way back down to the Umbrium.
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'Thoughts'
"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"
"Vastien Tongue/Speech"
"Valasren Tongue/Speech"
"Common Tongue/Speech"
