There were many improvements that would come with practice, but for now at least Quanil was getting the broad strokes of the basic motions, and that was what he had wanted to impart. He continued his strike to knock against his student's raised staff, with enough strength behind it that the young Loreseeker would need to work to resist their own weapon being pushed down, but not so sharp or powerful a move that he would break past their first attempt at defense. Feet, though, were more important, and as he glanced down and saw how Quanil's weight had shifted. The bard reached out with his magic to tug on the earth, rolling it up beneath Quanil's heels in an attack on their base to remind them of their balance.
"Good! It will take time and lots of practice to get used to moving your hands and feet together. Muscle memory will be your greatest friend in this. Take the staff with you whenever you're walking anyplace and get used to moving with its weight and length. Work on those patterns we practiced earlier, too, at least a half hour each day. And if you have any questions or want to make sure you're doing them right, you can come ask me," he assured them. "Let's get together again next week at the latest to see how you're coming along, and once your feet are more solid we can focus more on how to strike and block with the staff itself. How does that sound?"
Quanil's arms trembled a little in trying to push the provost's staff away, or at least keep it from advancing. They weren't strong enough - yet - to manage it, but they tried, and hopefully that was enough. And then the ground betrayed them again, and Quanil stumbled backwards before regaining their balance. It also backed them away from their "attacker," but if this had been a real fight, they'd've been head-bonked for sure, at a minimum.
But the provost said "Good."
HE SAID, "GOOD."
Quanil could've died right then and there from sheer happiness. So, naturally, they paid very close attention to everything the provost said after that. When the patterns were mentioned, Quanil did one of them, holding the staff the way they'd been taught. Then they stopped pattern-dancing and clutched the staff tightly with both hands. "I'll bring it with me everywhere!" they promised*.
They nodded enthusiastically at the suggestions of daily practice and doing more training next week. "Yes, of course, that sounds excellent, sir! Thank you so much!" Then a reminder struck them. "Do you know of any texts about the physics of staff fighting, sir? You mentioned it earlier, and I wanted to see if I could read up on it."
((*at least until my creator gets too excited and forgets about it!))
He nodded in approval as Quanil demonstrated the pattern of steps, not seeing any glaring errors that needed correction. That half hour of steady training with earth magic and footwork had paid off, he was happy to see. "That's not a bad idea," he agreed with a chuckle. "It'll get you used to having it near to hand, and once you're better at using it, you'll have a weapon and defense that's never far away." Though he wasn't sure how long his creations would last. Magic had been shifting lately, becoming less powerful in many ways. He had a feeling his constructs might not last as long as Remi's had...
As always, Quanil's questions made him stop and think. He closed his eyes to better focus on the list of books he had looked over in the Atheneum, a thoughtful frown on his face. Isuma chose that moment to come bounding out of the undergrowth, a young mouse held proudly in her beak as the small gryphlet with the head, wings, and foretalons of a snowy owl and the hindquarters and body of a snow leopard returned from her hunt. "Ah... no, I don't believe I've seen any, but we should have some in the Atheneum," he mused apologetically before kneeling down to set his staff aside and catch Isuma up into his arms. "Quanil, have you met Isuma before?"
Quanil was making a high-pitched squeeing noise, eyes riveted to the gryphon.
When they could use letters other than 'e', they said, "NoIhaven'tbutMr.Sunjatamentionedyouhadone,tooandsobeautifulandproudcanIpetthemIpromisetobecarefulisitokayifIpetyouIsumaI'mQuanilandI'mverynice!!"
High pitched noises were not, generally, something that animals with sensitive hearing wanted to be around, and Isuma was no exception. At the sound Quanil was making, Isuma dropped her dinner and promptly took off from Jigano's arms in distress, broad blue-tipped wings catching the Longheat light for a few moments before she dove back into the trees and out of sight.
Jigano sighed and bent down to retrieve the mouse, wrapping it in a scrap of handkerchief and slipping it into a pouch at his side. "She's usually very friendly, but you hurt her ears with that... noise." He arched a slightly admonishing brow at the youngest Seeker's lack of control. "And she was scared by that outburst. No one's ever... ah, lost control like that around her before." Even young Dante, who was at least five of six years younger than Quanil, had taken Isuma in stride with a Natural's calm aplomb for the local fauna. He turned to coax the mudman target to flow back into the earth, retrieving his first staff as he did so. "Would you have reacted to her that way if she had been on the shoulder of a Fae in the Greatwood?" he asked gently, a little worried at how such an outburst would have been met by the winged folk to the north.
They pouted as Isuma flew off, and quelled a little even under so gentle an admonishment. "Um... probably, yes," they admitted. They'd met two Fae now - beautiful, brusque, and belligerent - and they could just imagine how well their reaction just now would have gone over with them. "They're just so cute! I got to meet Miss Haai at the VlamVloed, and... I just really like cute animals.
"I'll try to control myself, sir." And they resolved to bring a mouse to Miss Isuma to make up for this, next chance they got.
He nodded slowly as Quanil settled once Isuma had left. "All I can ask is that you try," he agreed, remembering acutely in that moment why he had resolved to never have children of his own. The urge to lecture his youngest Loreseeker was strong, but he bit his tongue against it, remembering Amalia's words, and Remi's from long ago, and not wanting to turn away someone who was so sincere and genuine in their love of learning.
Even if that tiny shrieking was a noise he could do without ever hearing again from anything other than a tea kettle on the boil.
"You have your homework for the week, then," he said shaking off Isuma's disgruntled emotions through the bond, and sending soothing ones to her instead. He smiled at Quanil and nodded at the staff they held. "And I'd better let you get to it. I've a few things to start preparing... the Tangleweed wrangling is coming up, and we've a dorm to build when we get the chance, and I need to collect some seeds for the Healer in Halo..." He trailed off with a wry shake of his head. "I've been meaning to take you over to Torchline, too, now that it's opened up. After the Tangleweeds, perhaps. I'll see you back at the Guild soon. And thank you, Quanil, for helping me work on training my own magic today," he added with a warmer smile. "I'm getting a better hang of it, I think!"
With that, the Provost collected his staves and headed out.
"I've been meaning to take you over to Torchline."
The... the guild master wanted to take them somewhere?! That would have been squee-worthy enough, but combo'd with the fact that the provost clearly thought they were ready to go...?!
AND THEN HE THANKED THEM.
They held the squee in.
For now.
They'd let it out when they were alone, back in their room at the VlamVloed. Maybe into a pillow, to keep it further muffled.
Swallowing the squee down was difficult, and they barely trusted themselves to do more than nod and grin like an idiot. They watched the provost leave, let out a tiiiiiny little, "eeeeeee!" because they couldn't help themselves, and looked at the staff in their hands.
Things were looking up! Quanil took this all as a good, good sign. With everything going so right, they didn't see how anything could go at all wrong in the near future.
{Finished}
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