[Training] Spring Forward, Fall Back

He had only seen Melita in passing since the blight had faded from both their bones and she had helped him erect a monument to Ludo and Mort at the Bone Bridge. The same could be said for many of his friends, though, and it was long past time to seek them out and see how they were doing. In particular, he'd asked the brave huntress to meet him in the outskirts to help him hone his new magic and make sure his reflexes were still intact after LongNight. His failure to dodge the monsters's sludge and reach the bat-creature holding Ru'in's soul still sat like lead in his stomach, a failure he didn't intend to allow a repeat of next year.

Assuming Kiada let him accompany her again.

But Kiada needed to be far from his thoughts when meeting with Melita; whatever the tension between the two women was he had no desire to accidentally fan the flames higher, and if Kiada was the one who had cost Melita her mother and sister... well, Jigano could only make things worse by trying to interfere.

Better by far to squelch around a patch of Memory Mud and up to the drier crown of a small hill to await the summer-child's approach, tilting his head up to enjoy the early afternoon sunshine and the rain-fresh breeze that promised another downpour by evening.

I am my mother's child, I'll love you till my breathing stops
I'll love you till you call the cops on me

The spring revitalized and renewed, sent new sparks and fire through her blood, hastened her out of the gloom of LongNight, and into the unparalleled sun. She was a sprig, and then a conflagration, an inferno in her movements and motions, following her summons towards the Outskirts with steady aplomb and enthusiasm, her weapons either in her hands or banging along her back; Fangorn at her ankles, a restoration in normalcy, a cadence to raw endeavors and exploits. Because she’d always strive to become better. Because she’d always attempt to grow stronger. Because no matter where they were, she would survive, she would endure, she would rise, and that was enough to keep her flame lit and her heart strong, a beating crescendo of enthusiasm and upheaval. The world couldn’t hold her down for long. Nor could curiosity; once Jigano had asked her for assistance in honing his new magic. Since when had the bard held incantations and enchantments? Despite being pressed into the same building, now amongst the ashes too, Melita hadn’t known about the Sage’s quest alongside Kiada. She might’ve laughed at Kiada’s failure, all the bitter, rancorous edges notched in their parallel footfalls, but not at his. The honeybee girl knew the wake of defeat and anguish; how it slid, how it never quite went away, how it stole and beat, but then, how it uprooted and instigated too. Along the knoll, she spotted the familiar hair, waving before she crested its expanse. “Hello!” A holler, a beacons, and then they roamed, faster and swifter, keen and bright and a little wicked, arriving nearby, hardly out of breath. “What shall it be today?” M e l i t a But in our darkest hours, I stumbled on a secret power I'll find a way to be without you, babe

The holler drew his eyes to the wave, and a grin split his face at the fire-bright head that bobbed towards him, mischief on the wind. "Melita!" he greeted warmly. "Good to see you!" Even better to see her with a spring in her step and a gleam in her eye, free of the blight and LongNight's captivity. She had come dressed as an armory, bedecked in weapons, and Jigano grinned at the sight - and sound! - as Isuma swooped from the sky to greet Fangorn and tempt him into playing tag, the little gryphon folding her wings and bounding along the ground to make the game fair.

"I'd like to see if I can get better at using this new power for defense," Jigano explained, reaching out with his mental 'hands' to grip the sparkling green and brown threads of his earth magic and tug at them. The earth between them rumbled for a moment and then thrust upwards roughly four feet in a slab that could generously be called a barrier if the tall mage ducked behind it. "Do you have any distance weapons among your many munitions that you could fling at me? Preferably something non-lethal," he added with a lopsided grin. "Bird-blunt arrows or pebbles for a sling?" Not the larger stones or metal bullets that could drop a man dead or break bones on impact, but smaller stones that would only bruise if he was too slow to react.

"I thought we could start with that and then move on to something more close-range if I survive the ranged onslaught." Honing his timing and control with the possibility of pain as a motivator if he screwed up would be more effective than simply playing about on his own, he thought. And he trusted Melita's aim and instincts to strike to wound, not kill, if something went horribly awry in this training. "Do you have anything you'd like to work on today?" There was no reason they both couldn't benefit from the day, though perhaps trying to hit him was its own reward? For some, at least, but he didn't think Melita was one of them. Then again... with her penchant for mischief, perhaps it was better not to underestimate her!

I am my mother's child, I'll love you till my breathing stops
I'll love you till you call the cops on me

Fangorn was immediately embroiled in the game of tag, leaving the other participants to their own devices. As far as new powers, she had half an inclination to simmer and sear into the how; a girl with nothing but her own strength and might, her eyes flickering and following the flow of earthen wares. “Impressive,” she quirked a brow, not bothering to hide her smile. “I have some fire arrows.” At that, her grin grew massive, Cheshire, almost devilish, a tease, a taunt. “And some blunted ones,” she proffered shortly thereafter, though it wouldn’t be as fun or amusing. For close-range she could always utilize her staff. As for what she’d like to work on? “Just my precision.” How much more she could settle into the ground, brace for impact, not shattering, not shuddering, not quaking; yearning to be a complete and utter force to be reckoned with. She didn’t want anything like the blight to slip against or into her blood ever again. M e l i t a But in our darkest hours, I stumbled on a secret power I'll find a way to be without you, babe

His grin was crooked as he accepted her compliment. "Silver linings, and all that." Considering magic was a curse here he wished he could have come by it through some less painful means, but now that he had it he was going to make the best - and most - of it. "But fire arrows? That sounds like a tale in itself!" One he would ask her for when the training was done and they were walking back to town, he decided. For the moment, though... "Let's start with the blunted ones first, then move on to fire arrows from there," he decided with a chuckle. "Shall we start at fifty yards and work our way closer?"

He turned and moved away the appropriate distance, then drew in a deep breath, reaching inside himself to gather the threads of his magic and feel the earth around him. Could he use it to react fast enough? "Ready!" he called, nodding to Melita and wondering if it would be enough. It was up to her now, though, and until she shot he could only wait, feeling the threads of his magic vibrating in his soul, eager and waiting to be plucked.

I am my mother's child, I'll love you till my breathing stops
I'll love you till you call the cops on me

There was a semblance of mocking petulance when he deigned the fire arrows to come later, as if she’d fully anticipated being able to assail him with bright, blistering conflagrations, the sensation of embers, cinders, and crushing blows in her grasp. “All right,” she concurred and agreed with an almost put-upon sigh, and the following grin in her wake ensuring she only meant it partially. Once they’d established the appropriate distance, one hand elongated along her arm, as if she were drawing invisible lines, the bow appearing before her instantaneously, an artifact and gift from Arduinna. She carefully notched a blunted arrow, noting the dull, edgeless tip, listening for his call. And when it came, the youth was ready, applying herself, grounding her feet into the earth, a pulsing breath shuddering through her lungs. Then she drew the real string back, the lines taut, before unleashing it towards the bard – eager to see his defenses, what he would do, and if she could even manage a strike on him. M e l i t a But in our darkest hours, I stumbled on a secret power I'll find a way to be without you, babe

He grinned at her impatience to use her hottest weapon right at the start, but he was far less sanguine in his own abilities to block it and far more afraid of the damage it would do to him if he couldn't. Her sigh spoke volumes and he saluted her retreating back, but by the time she reached her spot and turned around he was innocently waiting for her first shot.

He arched a brow at the magically-appearing bow, surprised at its power but thinking it was a good match for the huntress. He wasn't given much time to admire it, however, for there was a purpose to their playful mayhem, and when he called his readiness Melita loosed her munition with a steady hand. Immediately he plucked the strings of his power in a discordant jerk, yanking at the earth to try and raise it. The ground rumbled and shot upwards in front of him, responding to his call, but not fast enough to beat a speeding arrow. The bard yelped as the shaft struck against his right shuolder when the defensive wall was only waist-high. Concentration broken, the dirt ceased to grow and he shook his arm and winced at the bruising he could feel beneath the skin. His earthen wall was thick and sturdy, a proper bulwark of defense, but far too slow to rise to the occasion.

After a moment's thought he pushed it back down and set himself again, focusing himself more firmly on the thought of thinning the amount of soil he was trying to move so that he could raise less, faster. "Again, whenever you're ready!" he called, fingers flexing in readiness as he stood tensed for the next barrage, his shoulder a throbbing reminder of the need to concentrate and move with finesse as well as speed.

I am my mother's child, I'll love you till my breathing stops
I'll love you till you call the cops on me

She watched – curious about these newfound powers, about what broiled and brimmed from within, gaze catching, riveting on the way the earth maneuvered in his wake, rising and rising, like shields, like furrows of soil and loam combined to orchestrate something. She reigned in the smugger edges of satisfaction when the arrow still managed to bypass the shifting terrain, too fast, too swift, too undaunted, thankfully blunted as it sailed into his shoulder. Her head tilted, waiting, hesitant to do much else. Would he be encouraged to try again? Should she be altering, doing something different? Apparently not, as he steadied himself, as fingers unwound and tensed, as the measures of unfamiliar chords seemed to barrage against him, but still eager, still fervent, for more. The girl nodded, notching another arrow, drawing it in the same manner, a steadying breath, a host and oath of convictions laden in her sights, striving to pinpoint his other side, intending for more precision, more accuracy, more potency in the meager skirmish. Then she let go of the string, and let the arrow fly once more – a singsong sear to the air. M e l i t a But in our darkest hours, I stumbled on a secret power I'll find a way to be without you, babe

A second arrow came speeding towards him this one aimed with more precision and intent, but Jigano had learned from his previous mistake. As soon as he saw Melita's fingers release the string he flicked the earth up instead of trying to jerk and drag. Rather than a rough wall of stone to barricade himself behind he focused on a thin shield to take the arrows momentum and blunt it. Even so he pulled too hard on his power, and rather than smooth rise of soil to separate him from the swiftly approaching attack he instead pulled a chunk of earth loose and it flew into position. His aim wasn't perfect - though Melita's was - but he at least managed to knock the arrow aside enough that it missed hm by mere inches this time.

He blinked in surprise, the chunk of earth falling back to the ground, but it gave an idea to use his power a bit more proactively. Reaching out again with his will he tore three chunks of earth free and lifted them to circle around him, the head-sized chunks bobbing and wobbling as he tried to control all three at once. He stepped a little ways back from them and waved for Melita to come a little closer if she wanted.

"Here, if you want to use your fire arrows, I'll try moving these targets around if you want to try and hit them instead of me." He grinned, reaching up to touch the swiftly-rising bruise on his shoulder where she'd already tagged him once. "I can practice how to use them as a moving defense and you can work on hitting a smaller target than my lanky bones!" So saying he began to bob and weave them through the air, having them circle and swoop unexpectedly, though he had to let one drop so he could focus on making the other two move fast enough to hopefully be a bit of a challenge to the red-haired woman's talented bow.

I am my mother's child, I'll love you till my breathing stops
I'll love you till you call the cops on me

She watched the earth move again, under another’s power, along the bard’s command, far more successful this time. Even with her accurate aim, the rocks, dirt, and loam finally knocked her arrow asunder, extending the slightest smirk along her features. In time, with practice, he’d likely master the shielding technique; the youth had never sought out defending ventures for herself. It’d always been assault, siege, and carry on, a swing of a staff, a branch, a portion of stone, ready to rally and fight tooth and nail, down to nothing but screams and howls. It was better now, here, without striving to survive every second, every moment. Her eyes caught his intentions with the three chunks of earth now floating, circling, a little haphazardly, perhaps like birds, teetering on the edges of a breeze. Listening to the plans, she quickly stuffed the blunted arrows away, hands settling over the fiery emblems with an alarming, feral, savage excitement, ebullience forthright, untamed nature eager and fervent to be set alight. “Absolutely!” Her grin was only slightly demonic and devilish (Fangorn saw it, and rightfully moved off to a farther area long the hill, sniffing at grass) as she holstered and notched one, maintaining the same distance she’d had with Jigano. While he’d been stationary, these were moving – like prey, like foes, like adversaries always would, lingering to either gain access to her, or to evade entirely. Like a huntress, she pinpointed on one, her arms, bow, and eyes following its maneuvers and motions, and then released soaring embers and cinders, vicious, vehement things clustered in potential conflagrations. M e l i t a But in our darkest hours, I stumbled on a secret power I'll find a way to be without you, babe

He hid a laugh at her eagerness, catching the bright-toothed grin as she switched her ammunition from humble blunts to fiercely flaming shafts of fiery magic. They suited her passion, like arrows drawn from the very inferno of her soul, and he was glad to be off to the side for this one, suspecting that if she loosed such a thing at him that he would be practicing his healing magic rather than his earth magic.

Isuma followed Fangorn, pouncing on the blade of grass that had his attention at the moment and mostly oblivious to the strange things their humans were up to, playing with powers she didn't really understand. Jigano had no such luxury, focusing hard on his three two moving targets as he set them to dancing in the air, bobbing and looping, spinning and swerving as he held the clumps together against their innate tendency to want to fall apart.

It was hard to divide his attention three ways; one for each target and a third for Melita herself and the arrow she loosed. He grinned, waving his hands like a conductor of an orchestra as he tried to pull his earthen pigeons away from her blazing shot, and if he'd only been moving one he might have been successful at it. Three ways, however, was too much for how new he was at this, and he didn't know which target she had chosen. He moved them both as she fired, hoping to evade, but all he did was pull the target off center from the arrow. Melita's shot still struck it high on the left and blew a chunk of earth away in a spray. The target wobbled and then dropped, the earth crumbling even before it hit the ground and Jigano gave a theatrical groan. "Damn! Now I'm really glad you're aiming at them and not me!" he called out.

"How fast can you fire that, though?" There was a challenging lilt in his voice as he reached out to grab two more large balls of soil and balance them with his mind. "Think you can hit all three?" And when it looked like she was ready he lobbed them at her, arcing them through the air with only a few seconds in between each one as he sped them along. They'd leave his sphere of influence twenty feet from where Melita stood but momentum would carry them close to her feet if she didn't shoot them down first.

I am my mother's child, I'll love you till my breathing stops
I'll love you till you call the cops on me

Pleased, satisfied, a hum drew below her breath as the fire blazed and segmented one of the targets. A brief, illustrious inferno, and then it crumbled, shattered rocks and soil collected on the ground. She wished she could do it again and again, prove over and over how potent she was, how prowess had managed to seethe and sear into her bones, how she wouldn’t allow herself to be conquered, to be dissolved, to be pushed aside any longer. She wished it would last. At Jigano’s cry she snorted, but smiled, pulling at another arrow while he changed tactics. Truth be told, she’d never practiced quick shots one right after the other before; most of the time she waited to see if her first shot was accurate before flying another – it seemed wasteful, when she was only attempting to hunt deer or fowl. However, if there was an incoming enemy that didn’t stop, didn’t desist, would a series of the sharp, blazing munitions do the same? Could it cut down on a monster? Could it riddle her of a plague that much faster? “I’ll certainly try,” she boasted, the slightest smirk and snicker on her lips to insinuate she was kidding; except not at the same time (because the youth was determined, and convictions were set right into her bones, into her jaw, into her heart and lungs and soul). It would take more practice, as she felt unsteady loosening one arrow towards the line of targets, and then grabbing for another. It was meant to be swift and quick, rapid and firing, and she fumbled briefly – brows furrowing back to concentration. She notched the second, releasing, and then reached behind for the third, following the line of patterns, the feel of the string beneath her fingers. It lacked the initial precision though, and she knew he’d found a hole, a flaw in her training, that she’d never thought to correct or examine. M e l i t a But in our darkest hours, I stumbled on a secret power I'll find a way to be without you, babe

She was confident and fierce, wild and wickedly mischievous as she set herself for the challenge he presented. She had fired at him and now it was her turn to face the onslaught, and she did so with grace and a steady eye, even if her hand was not as steady when faced with the barrage. He gave her the benefit of his trust, not holding back nor slowing down beyond the limits his newfound power and uncertain control over it forced on him, lashing out with clods of earth and mud to arc through the air in silent threat towards the fiery-haired honeybee girl and her wicked weapon.

The first was slightly off target, but only slightly. It struck the side of the target, burning through the soil of its body and beyond and Jigano let it drop to the ground, 'slain.' The second was the best of the lot, true and tested, Melita's equilibrium regained in spite of the unfamiliar speed with which she fired, aimed on instinct honed by years of hunting, launching, striking down her prey.

The third did not wait for her to breathe. It sped along behind its fallen brethren under its own momentum as it passed the thirty foot mark where Jigano's control ended, and continued along on inertia alone. The bard could only watch at that point, wincing as the final arrow wobbled astray by a hair's-breadth and left the clump of dastardly dirt to carry on, like a wayward son, towards its victim.

Luckily it was also heavy, and it dropped swiftly once beyond Jigano's reach. It would strike Melita's knee if she didn't dodge, spattering over fabric and boot as the bard winced and waved apologetically. "Do you want to take a break?" he called. "Or keep going? I've got the rest of the afternoon free if you want to keep practicing back and forth." Time he'd gladly spend with his young huntress friend, honing both their skills in the spring sunshine for as long as the weather and her interest held.

I am my mother's child, I'll love you till my breathing stops
I'll love you till you call the cops on me

She bristled and strived, always trying, always determined, always biting off a little more than she should be chewing; the air of defiance and sedition burrowed deep into her chest, incapable of ever letting go. She watched, bore witness, clambered along her bow and her string, her munitions and her fire, the searing inferno volley blistering and churning its way through silt and stone. The girl was momentarily surprised, and then satisfied, to see the first and the second unfurl in rapid rhythm, as if there’d been more behind her efforts, her abilities, than she’d realized – but it ended there, the third crashing into her knee as she scarcely maneuvered into an evasion. She hissed only a little, a feral intonation and reverberation; but bruises were bruises, and she’d sustained many in her life, and then things much, much worse. All in all, she likely should’ve been pleased with her efforts – shrugging as Jigano called. She was very tempted to keep going, to continue in its escalation, to unfurl more practice, more precision, a call to revolution and anarchy. But, perhaps it wasn’t fair, with Jigano’s magic so new, and likely tiring, fatiguing, exhausting when it was foreign and complex. “We can take a break,” she uttered, as her eyes shifted to the broken sod at her feet, the bow placed back into her bracelet, the fiery quiver quieted. M e l i t a But in our darkest hours, I stumbled on a secret power I'll find a way to be without you, babe