The Music of Steel [Finn]

[Talisman]

37 Searing, Year 124

[Closed - Finn]

It was considered to be bad taste to have one of her parties or get-togethers while the Conclave was formed. The Moonborn Princess of Gens Astræon-Sol’Aværys, Vespera, had dutifully adhered to the edict of her parents regarding such affairs, and complicating matters was the fact that Finn was the husband of Arvaelyn Princeps of House Sol'Zalkyrion. Even if he was a fantastic musician and an accomplished bard, broaching the possibility of his performing at parties had to be done tastefully. With the events following the Masquerade in Ash, and that the heads of Gens Sol'Avaerys had been summoned by Zalkyriax with regards to Thalya Derelicta, formal relations were made even more tenuous.

On the other hand, meetings for training were scrutinized far less. He had two Runes now that he was working on, and both of them were Runes that the silver-haired Moonborn possessed in abundance. Sevaerys' younger sister may not have had his status, but she was no slouch: she had her own troops that she led in the Golden Legion, and Vespera worked them hard. She had warned him that if he came to train up top, she would not take it easy on him; and each time he took her up on that standing offer, he had gone back home with a lot of new bruises and scrapes. Or gone to see Hilana before going home and letting Arvaelyn see what he had gotten. He may have trained hard as a Sentinel, and become far tougher and harder from his time in the sands here, but Vespera had a tendency to also lock down his ability to use Traversion to avoid her and force him to use whatever else was at his disposal.

It wasn't enough to be skilled, one had to be smart and think tactically. Disciplined, determined, and driven. That was what she expected from her legionnaires, and when Finn came topside, those same expectations were on him as well. The training grounds outside the Luxium were mostly used by the Golden Legion and the Vastian Guard, but the Sentinels still sued them as well. She paired her unit off, and decided to take on the Peregrine human herself today - sometimes Finn would face one of her soldiers, sometimes the training was largely in groups, and sometimes she would face him herself. In the heat of the desert sun, Vespera looked him over. She wore the typical training armour that the rest of them did, though a teal kerchief around her neck with the Astraeon symbol on it, and Finn would find himself in the same gear when he came up to train. These were live swords at this level; these were not recruits.

She had a host of weapons at her disposal, but she had both a falcata and a khopesh out today. She could summon another one, if needed, but she would see what Finn elected to draw. "Whenever you are ready." Her eyes glinted, a sword in each hand.

[Finn]

There were those blademasters among the Silver Sentinels and Golden Legion who said that Finn, while driven, would never be a blademaster himself because he had started so late and because his foundational studies hadn't been Solunarian. Perhaps they were right, but he remained driven.

Most days, he drilled at the Citadel, often letting little Syrena watch. He was trying to spend as much time with her as possible, and his brother Ciarán would bring her up from the village to watch. Other times, he would go down to the village afterward to observe the little oddity.

Today, however, he was in the Luxium with Vespera and her troops. He smiled when she elected to spar with him herself. But he set his pact weapons aside, electing instead to practice with a pair of gladii. Weapons were slowly being added to his reaver's arsenal, but he was playing the field, seeing which ones felt more right than others before investing his soul into them. Achieving mastery of that Rune was important to him so he could finally bond with the soul cairn that had been entrusted to him. If he never mastered it, he supposed he would have to give it back to the deceased's family or another worthy reaver.

The smile faded into a more serious mien, though. This was serious business.

"Ready," he affirmed, even as he feinted with his right hand, following up with a sweep from the left.

So far, so good. The balance was nice. He thought that if he had two different sword types as she had, it might become easier to anticipate him, whereas with identical short swords, one gladius or the other might prove dominant in any given exchange, or change mid-exchange.

Finn lacked the finesse with weapons that he had with instruments of music, perhaps, but he was adaptable enough to improvise and he was getting better at disarming. It was only when the adrenaline hit him full force that he tended to try to put an opponent down immediately rather than draw things out.

He had allowed mind-healers to help him with his trauma, but it wasn't erased. He wanted the mental scars to remind him of lessons learned, the better not to have to learn them again.

[Talisman]

Others may have thought that he would never be a true blademaster, but Vespera kept any opinions about that to herself. The way of the blade did not belong to any one nation. Solunarium had many incredible masters, and it was a superior society to the world beyond their borders, but she had learned that sometimes the wisest course of action when it came to conventional wisdom was to shun it. Underestimating those who they had previously looked down on was what had led to the schism, such as it was. Sanguinist though she was, like the rest of her family, Vespera Princeps had learned that the next time they made that mistake, it could be fatal.

Finn had enough skill that he was comfortable dual-wielding against her, and she appreciated that. He was certainly broader than she was, and she could see that since she had first come across him, he had grown considerably. That hold her that he worked hard, and he trained hard, and there was something to be said for determination and work ethic. If it didn't come to you naturally, then you had to work that much harder at it to make it a second nature. The blades had to become a part of you, extensions of your own arms and soul. She had a height advantage as a Re'hyaean, but their reaches were similar. His gladius swords were equal-sized to her falcata, though her khopesh was longer... but the blade's shape might well lend his strength an advantage if his strikes were true. But she had been practicing with weapons since she first started to walk, and with her parents, nothing less than perfection was acceptable, especially with her mother.

When he engaged with both, Vespera was ready. She stepped into the feint, bringing up her khopesh to engage the sweep that came from his left hand, aiming to use the sickle-shaped belly of the blade to catch and trap the gladius. She would see if she could keep it locked away or force a change in his grip - these initial engagements were about testing him out and seeing how he had improved and changed since the last time he had left the Sentinels' section and ventured into hers. As such, the falcata went straight for his midsection, the curved handle looking like it had been forged specifically for her. All things considered... it likely had.

[Finn]

Though, in general, Finn was prone to follow rules, especially here where he was still concerned he would make some faux pas, all unknowing, and reflect poorly upon his husband, Vespera had told him early on that they weren't having some honorable duel, but training to fight and to win. It reminded him of something he remembered hearing Elric Hansom tell Arvalyn during a rehearsal at the Golden Peacock where Finn had been hired to provide musical accompaniment. Something along the lines of there being no such thing as a rehearsal, that everything had to be treated as real, that everything was real.

He wasn't sure he agreed, but then, he spent far too much time rehearsing conversations in his head before he had them, and other such things.

But here and now, he tried something that Vespera hadn't seen before, at least from him: When the khopesh responded as he assumed it was, he let go of his gladius. He let her pin turn into a disarm, and then he hitched the blade right out of the air, and then the gladius was no longer out of play, but attacking from a new angle, its twin adapting as well.

There was a trick to it, not only taking the hilt, but letting the slipspace translocation reorient the blade so it was in an entirely different alignment. He took an aggressive step forward that might stomp her foot, or throw off her footing, except it was another bit of trickery, an attempt to disarm her of her falcata—a sort of hitch but instead of grabbing, he was stomping. His instructors in the arcane often said that there were hard limits, soft limits, and sometimes the only limits were one's imagination.

[Talisman]

Vespera enjoyed training with Finn because she knew that there was going to be some new tricks coming from him. If you fought the same person all the time, you learned nothing new, and there was always something out there, and it did not do to become complacent. There were some people that used the same trick every time, and she could usually bank on him using some form of Traversion during a sparring session. There were some things that were inevitable, and that was always one of them. To be fair, if she said no magic, he adhered to the rule; sometimes she would use Negation after a while to cut down any magic within the duelling yard to force every one of her soldiers to focus strictly on their weapon skills. Because if she could do it... others could, and relying strictly on arcane tricks and techniques was a surefire way to become overconfident.

She had yet to do so today, and as a result, she got to experience a new strategy from him. The Moonborn Princess was certainly paying attention to his swords and his body, and while she didn't regularly spar with Semblance going full time, this was one of those times so that she could not only defend against him, but analyze the magic that he was using. She wanted to understand these tricks, though Traversion was not a Rune she herself possessed so that she could assess what she had done and figure out the better counters later, and possibly discuss it with her brothers and those that she trusted when it came to such things. She noted the way he used the Hitch technique, and while she did not turn herself to focus on that blade, she was able to perceive it through Aether Sense.

"Smart," Vespera commended him on that tactic. She may or may not have always commented during the active fighting, but if she did, it was because she was impressed with something he was doing and pointing it out now so that he knew what she was approving of. She may not have been particularly verbose, but sometimes a little went a long way. She reacted well, shifting herself in order to be able to bring her khopesh back to bear and meet the gladius. Where she had used the internal curve of it to force it up before, she now used the outside, aiming to deflect and force him wide. When he stomped his foot, she took the opportunity to dart forward and push her foot against the inside of his, looking to see if she could offset his stance and force him off balance while he was looking to loosen her grip on her falcata. That was where the benefit of the rounded handle came into play - it was hooked around her hand, and so pulling it pulled the blade forward, and she wanted to see what he was going to do with this attempt, driving the curved blade towards that gladius. If she could force his weight off, she might follow through and attempt to hook his leg, but that depended on Finn's instincts and his ability to stay on his feet.

[Finn]

The first time Vespera had complimented him mid-spar, he had been so surprised that he fumbled. This time, he took it in stride. It had occurred to him that even as he steadily improved, she was learning his tells and how to counter them. But then, he was learning how she countered, where she focused when she was analyzing an opponent, and he was good enough with blades that he was learning her tells and how to counter them as well.

Of course, Finn was a pacifist at heart, and had only learned to fight because he didn't want to be a victim and trauma drove him to learn how to take care of himself and Arvælyn, though, of course, his dragon prince was no longer as fragile as once he had been. He hoped never to cross blades with Vespera in earnest, but the world, while sometimes predictable, also had a habit of surprising the mists out of him from time to time.

His stomp hadn't managed to hitch—counter-hitch? anti-hitch?—the falcata out of her hands, but he was in the flow of the fight now, and he didn't waste a moment on disappointment. Instead, he doubled down, turned the forward movement of his stomp into a twisting sort of dive under her guard, as though he were falling, bringing both his blades up and aimed for her torso as he went, and then, whether he connected or she danced out of the way, his dive took him into a roll until he was up and facing her once more, this time with more distance.

Finn was definitely stronger than he was agile, but he was working on agility. Strength was only so useful if it was slow and easily dodged or diverted.

Given the space and, thus, a bit of time for respite and thought, he considered something else he hadn't tried before—throwing up a quick ward against flesh behind an opponent and then bum rushing them. However they moved or countered, they would come up against an immovable wall to be body slammed or at least tripped up.

He knew she was a more skilled warder than he was, but sometimes a simple ward deftly and surprisingly applied could prove utile. There was little time in a fight to consider; he was weaving the wall against flesh behind her even as he moved in on her, blades held such that side-stepping would prove more problematic than just moving backward.

[Talisman]

The falcata had wanted to leave her hand, though the hooked handle was what had prevented it from being yanked from her. Down he went, as expected, but of his own volition, which was unexpected.The falcata's more gently-carved blade came up, perhaps hard, to meet his gladii and parry them, using her momentum against his. The khopesh, however, with its greater hook, came for his shoulder and neck. However he reacted to that, the fight continued.

Where her elder brother had sparred Finn with Reaving alone, Vespera liked to be more hands-on for this. It wasn't that she wasn't confident in her Reaving skills, as she was, but this was exercising against another opponent who could not be taken lightly. Finn had many opportunities for training that many of her own soldiers didn't, considering he was a Sentinel and had likely trained with the best that House Phaedryn had to offer, and that was nothing to sneeze at. While she very much wished for unity in the Capital, that they were reunited, that was well out of her hands.

The young Re'hyaean saw him make the ward, but she wasn't assessing it right then. If need be, she could likely overwhelm it with her own Negation, but she would deal with that when it came to it. As he came towards her, and she stepped back, she found out quite quickly just what it was warding against... And she had to concede that that was another nice trick. She considered her options quite quickly - overwhelm it as he likely expected her to do, or act cornered and go hard on the offensive. The way he held is gladii suggested he wanted her backwards. She chose the latter, knowing that that ward could be left there, and perhaps used against him, too, if she could reverse the positions.

She pushed one foot back on the ground against the ward, and used it to launch herself forward. Her khopesh was moving upwards at a frightening speed on a sharp angle, and with the curve of the blade, she intended to reach around the gladius if one came to try to parry and try to get him with it. And while she swung, she laid a ward of her own on the ground where she expected his left foot to fall, shaping it in a sharp-angled pyramid designed to block the material of his boot's sole to see if she could mess up his momentum or cause him a stumble of her own. She went low with the falcata, aiming for his midsection. Neither was likely to throw him off balance, but she could see how he reacted to this new push.

[Finn]

Finn got the sense that he had surprised her, which was gratifying. What was less gratifying was how quickly she adapted. But he adapted quickly, too—if not as quickly nor as adroitly.

She used his ward as a means to aggressively reverse her momentum, and as he didn't have time to do the same, he merely modified it, dropping into a slide that would bruise his hip and scratch up his flank. This was what he got for sparring without armor. Back when he had been softer, back when Zaichaeri thugs could ruin his life at will, he might have cried out. Now he had faced down voidspawn, lost an arm, and had it reattached. His pain threshold was much higher.

His blades came up as he slid under her, an attempt to score. His foot caught on the edge of her ward, arresting his slide, and he blinked ten feet above her, hoping gravity would be his ally and he could tackle her, at least. It wasn't blade play, but their sparring had always been less about swordsmanship and more about creative struggle.

Finn's skill with his blades was growing, of course, but while he was nowhere near as good as she was, his training was different enough that this was as much about preparing each other for stratagems and gambits they hadn't thought of before as anything else. Solunarium was where one ought to come to learn humility, he always thought. He hadn't met a Mesmer as strong as he was, other than Arvælyn, until they had come here where master-level Mesmers seemed to be a dime a dozen. He would have to push beyond those limits as Arvælyn had with the Rune of Command, as others had with other magics, blades, and skills, as he had with his voice.

[Talisman]

Fast, adaptable, and so very good with his spatial awareness... good. The young Princess always loved a strong fight, and Finn was going to be the one to give it to her. Vespera had to give it to the man who had married one of her cousins, he did not give up quickly and he did not slouch. He did not take it easy, though he could have, he didn't surrender in the face of someone who had been doing this since she could run, and he was determined to do the best he could. He learned, and that was what made him a thrilling, if dangerous opponent. He paid attention, and he learned. Some might make the same mistake over and over again; Finn was one who could figure it out quickly and adapt.

As he started to slide under her, Vespera leapt back, pushing off of one foot quite quickly to avoid giving him access to what could have been a devastating blow when going all out. He had the advantage of going low and upwards power from the thrust of the gladii, and taking a hit to a leg would have severely hampered her, and countering those blows would have taken an awkward stance that could have been a problem if he'd Blinked himself into another position directly behind her, forcing a potentially difficult recovery. And sure enough...

One moment, he was on the ground. The next, her ears twitched as he was coming down directly over top of her, and gravity certainly did the job. That would have been a way to impale him, and she could have put up a ward that did what he had earlier - let him hit an aetheric wall blocking flesh. But she had others watching now, and this was a lesson for her troops. She had said before on more than one occasion that one couldn't use magic for everything... and that included her beloved Negation. As he tackled her, she rolled the pair of them on the sand, looking to sling him up and off of her by using the force that had brought him down on her.

She knew that in grappling, his greater strength was going to minimize her faster agility if he could catch her, and Vespera didn't intend to let him trap her under him. It was all in the knowing of one's opponent, and what their strengths and weaknesses were. And she would be the first to admit that those weaknesses that she had found early on when he had come to see her and her troops and train with them had been worked on over the seasons, steadily eradicating them. She was just going to have to find new ones.

[Finn]

There wasn't a great deal of time to ruminate during a fight, but he did witness thoughts entering his mind. He just couldn't focus on them in the moment. Instead, he let them gather in the back of his mind to be addressed later. Later, he would consider what had worked and what hadn't worked, what strategies to keep, to refine, to discard. He hadn't blinked terribly high, not wanting to give her more time to realize ways to counter his stratagem. She was already terribly quick. He had half expected an invisible wall from Vespera, knowing she had several of the same tools in her belt as he had, but this time, he didn't have to redirect his momentum.

He crashed into her and was forced to relinquish his blades in order to grapple.

Without his blades, he was competent. He had grown up with siblings, of course, and had trained somewhat in unarmed combat but had focused on blades. He could pull blades out of the air. He wondered if he would feel something akin to bruises when he put them back after dropping them in the struggle.

Were they dueling, he would not have dropped them, but when they sparred, Vespera wanted him to go all out. If they were truly trying to kill each other, the best he could do now was pin her down and choke the life out of her. If she escaped, blink to his blades or hitch them back to his hands.

From there, the fight became more difficult to follow, even for him. They were down in the sandy dirt and fighting dirty. An opportunity arose and they both acted: he hitched his blades back to his hands; she held a blade to his neck. He wasn't sure where she had gotten it from. It was possible he could disappear into the slipspace before she opened his throat, but it was over. She had won.

"I yield," he growled, throat parched more than he was in a bad mood.

The thread of golden ambition that had been weaving its way through him, anticipating and serpentine, tarnished and faded. 'Patience,' he thought after it. Sometimes the Aværyn grace within him reacted like a living thing, separate from him and from Aværys while also being intimately connected, while being the intimate connection. He knew his patience and hard work would pay off eventually, not necessarily with Vespera as a divine thrall, but he would find his place on the Pyramid someday.

Even as he yielded, he took greater control of his breath, beginning the careful process of restoring his pact blades to where they would rest and recover. If she wanted another round, he would call them back, but he was trying to normalize it and inure himself to the pain.

Embracing pain restored it to its role as a tool rather than a tyrant.