From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
it may be rage or maybe hope, i wanna know your phobia
She gave Sam a moment, watching the man adjust and move about until he felt just right. That was one thing she couldn't correct him on, every body was different and would have to align different. She could teach him where to put his feet and what angle to bend his elbows, but he'd still have to decide for himself whether or not he felt right.
He swung down, a move executed by someone who listens and learns. She grinned, "Yeah! Okay Sam! Again," she said, urging him to reset his pose and practice swinging from that position a few more times. "Get used to how it feels to have your sword there, then you can start there and slash across, out and to the side, whatever direction you need to retaliate or make a move."
She let him go on like that for a few more minutes, then chose a new stance to practice. "With a similar stance leg wise, you can start the sword in various places. Here," she modeled a new position, plow with the sword pulled close to the hip. She demonstrated bringing it up and over to meet an attacker's sword, "This is a good stance for defending, thrusting, and keeping a stable base."
Aisha's praise put a smile on his face and Sam readily adopted the pose again, trying the slash a few more times, eventually tilting and twisting it to go in different directions as she had said. He still felt a little ungainly, the weight of a sword in his hand a very new sensation, but not one he found too uncomfortable once he'd been shown the proper way to carry it.
When the time for the new stance came he nodded and tried to replicate her movements. "When you're in a fight, how do you switch between these quickly enough to have a chance? I think I'd have to think about it too much..." Sam asked, still going along with the training and what she wanted him to do but worrying that when it actually came to the matter, he'd be stumbling and thinking too long to actually be effective.
it may be rage or maybe hope, i wanna know your phobia
"Practice, lots of practice. These stances will only help you as much as you let them, make them feel natural through drilling and eventually you won't have to think about which stance is which and how to switch," she answered, following his movements with a mentor's sharp gaze, but keeping a soft smile on her face. She wanted him to feel encouraged, let him know that he was doing well.
Hopefully he wouldn't need to use these maneuvers in a volatile environment anyway.
She tried showing him a few more stances, mostly defensive ones, then paused, "I think you're ready to try some of these out against a real person huh?" She grinned, searching the clearing for some sticks that might be useful. She returned with two (conveniently placed in the rubble), they wouldn't withstand a hard blow but she didn't plan on whacking the shit out of him just yet. One was offered to him, her stick held under her arm and her other hand held out to take her sword back.
"I'll practice some swings at you, see if you can block them," she said, preparing a stance and awaiting his signal that he was ready.
"If you say so." Sam wasn't sure he'd ever do anything in his life fluidly, but he supposed he had once struggled to write calligraphy neatly and now he did it absent mindedly, not having to consider the movement of his wrist and pen; perhaps this could be the same. Through the next stances he continued to try his best, wanting to impress Aisha, or at least make her feel like he respected the time spent teaching him.
That he was to practice against her next was somewhat worrying, but he trusted her not to stab him. Handing back the sword, Sam took the stick, rolling it a little in his palm as he got used to the weight of it compared to the weapon. "Unfortunately, I should learn how to fight a person." Sam agreed with a sigh, then stepped back into one of the defensive stances she had taught him and nodded to signal that he was ready for the lesson to continue.
it may be rage or maybe hope, i wanna know your phobia
Sam seemed slightly reluctant to start an actual fight, and she couldn't blame him. He'd only just begun, but there was only so far stances alone could take him. She'd go easy for sure, and once he signaled his preparedness she nodded. Her attacks would be obvious, the level of an attacker who was new to this, his level. She eyed her target, his side, and prepared to thrust towards it.
This should be an easy parry, now to see if Sam had the intuition to carry out the maneuver. She stepped forward, thrusting out with the stick, seeking her point but hoping to be stopped. That would mean they were on the right track.
Sam, wanting to impress and genuinely learn, did everything he could to pay attention to Aisha and her movements, his feet set in their stance but ready to move once he had to. He was surprised to find he did actually notice where it was she looked and instinctively knew where she might try to attack, somewhere by his side. While there was a little fear still in his chest, the sudden confidence in realising he knew what to do after her teaching helped him to move.
The move was a little awkward, his body still not used to the quick reactions, but he shifted into the right stance and moved his stick to block hers, a satisfying crack sounding out as the two hit. A laugh and a smile touching his face at the success he pushed gently away, successfully parrying her blow. "Wow! You're a good teacher."
it may be rage or maybe hope, i wanna know your phobia
Aisha noticed the way Sam's eyes followed her movements, the way the gears turned and lead him to the right stance. A slight smirk pulled at her lips as she watched her student for the day make the right choice, swinging his wooden sword to block her thrust. She pulled back, beaming at his success and the excitement he shared, "See? Told ya you could do it."
"Now again," she said with a nod, swinging her stick a few times and choosing a new vantage point. This time she'd swing down on him, giving him a choice of how he wanted to respond. What worked best for him was what she wanted to help him find, and they'd practice until he was satisfied.
Her praise and his success were indeed encouraging; Sam smiled before adapting another stance, feeling more and more able to actually do this. He knew it was just sticks, that she was likely going easy on him, that he had expected it...but it still felt like the first step towards being more independent, more able to defend himself when it had to happen. Maybe he'd even start carrying a sword, but he wasn't sure he was ready to make that kind of commitment yet.
That, and he knew most people he knew would think it was very funny.
As the practice continued he realised he was actually enjoying himself, maybe beginning to see why it was people like Aisha actually sought out opportunities to do things like this. With each successful block and thrust he began to understand, and by the time he left he knew he'd be doing it again.
