(2021-06-11) Day 11

Details

Author:	Jessa
Summary:	Master Aurelius lectures. Ivri starts to get it.
Rating:	T for Teen

Chain: The Re-education of Miss Ivrianna Barlowe

Master Aurelius paced in a circle, hands clasped behind his back. Arrayed around him at the cardinal points were his students, each one fending off two assistant trainers.

"Two hands," he said as he walked, "two weapons. You should be able to handle two attackers. This will be the focus until you get it right. Attack and defend simultaneously. Attack with both. Defend with both. You will learn to make these choices and to switch between them seamlessly."

Ivri heard the crack of a bad hit off to her left. Tragg, then. She knew better than to take her eyes off either of her attackers, but did give her head a toss to flick sweat off her forehead before it could roll into her eyes.

Aurelius didn't stop his circling. "If you do not move your feet, it will not matter where your hands are. As a building depends on its base, so does your form depend on the placement of your feet. Never lunge. You are too lightly armored to over-extend yourself. Stay close and tight. Draw your opponent to you, where you will always have the advantage. Swords are useless at close range. You are not."

They continued to fight, each trio staying within a tight margin of space. Close to two weeks of going full-out had increased all of their capacity for the continued exertion, and no one faltered.

"Dead," she heard across the arena. Judah. She didn't acknowledge it.

"And definitely don't double-lunge," Aurelius said dryly. "When your weapons are away from your body, you have no defense. Leather armor will not prevent the point of a sword or a knife from going right through you. It will, at best, deflect a shallow blow or a glancing one. Only you can choose if you need defense or offense more. Choose wisely."

"Dead!" she heard, this time from Llastra's quarter.

There was something… Ivri could almost feel it, almost see it. Not a pattern. There was no pattern. They attacked, she defended and attacked when she could. But there was something to the sound of steel-on-steel, to the patter of it, to the way it fit with the movement of her feet.

She found herself focusing on that something, on that not-rhythm. It was almost hypnotic.
Almost…

Almost…

Frustration.

Twin jabs of wooden daggers, front and back. "Dead," both of her instructors said simultaneously.

Winded, Ivri gulped for air and looked around.

The others were all watching. She had outlasted them. It made her vaguely embarrassed.

Master Aurelius walked to stand in front of her. "And at some point," he said quietly, "stop thinking. Just do. Just kill."

They locked eyes. Ivri felt it again teasing at the edges of her consciousness. The pattern. The rhythm. She nodded.

He inclined his head once.

Then he turned away. "Again," he said, moving back to the center.

Ivri brought her wooden daggers up and decided to kill her attackers.

The pattern clicked.