[Training] Otra vez

Maea

And it feels like fear
Like I'll disappear

Slash went the knife blade through the quiet air. Maea's foot slipped from the sideways motion and she stopped, correcting her stance before continuing. Again, the same angle, the same speed.

A light snowfall dusted the clean swept ground of the training field, turning the footing treacherous and the ground uncomfortably hard to fall on. Dusk was a blue blanket spread across the landscape and in the city beyond lights were kindling in a few houses. Not that many; more and more of the inhabitants of the Hollowed Grounds were Ascended these days, requiring neither light nor warmth. It made her sad, to think that one day all the houses would remain dark after sundown, even in the middle of Deepfrost.

Slash. This time her footing remained solid, and she turned around. Pivoting one step at a time, around herself. Slash, block. Slash, block.

There was a rhythm to it, she had discovered. Much like her life had fallen into some sort of a rhythm. Rise from a moment of dreamless shutdown, train, change clothes and work for a few hours in the Infirmary alongside Isla. Go back to Amun's pottery workshop to see if he had returned home, change again if necessary and spend hours upon hours in the Atheneum. Sorting books. Pouring over old scrolls. Learning to interpret the scribbled writing of ancient scholars. And whenever her eyes began to swim with letters and she couldn't stand the silence anymore, she might take a stroll over to the VlamVloed, and see if Neron needed a hand in the bar.

If there were hours left in the day, she filled them with more training. Anything to keep from thinking too much. Her mind was the enemy. Rhythm was the key to moving on.

Slash, block, turn. Slash, block, turn.

Entranced by the repetitive motions of this blade dance, it was almost peaceful.

Gets so hard to steer
Yet I go on

SUNJATA

the flood

i'm suffocating the clock to keep you
i think like a saint, but swing like a thief

“You’ve gotten better.” Comes the rumbled compliment from the dark, briefly before Sunjata lights a lantern for the training grounds, pushing off the edge of the building in order to actually be able to see. Of course, he’s gotten his partial shifting back, the ability to shift his eyes to a version that could see much better in the lowlight of a chilly winter and hardly any lights to dot the streets. But if he does it for too long, a headache spurs, and he’d like to prevent that.

He considers her a moment before adjusting the jacket wrapped around him for warmth, his breath clouding in the air as he exhales before inhaling to speak. “Want a partner for it?” He asks, nodding toward the blade in her hand, the slash and block – how they’d trained before but with bows and arrows, different but similar enough that it was nearly a throwback.

Only, if memory serves, the last time they’d sparred in this very building it was when Maea had tried to convince him to break up his marriage with Phoebe. How he hadn’t agreed, how she’d stormed off, how the marriage had ended anyway a short time later.

How messy it had all been.

and inadvertently leading you
to believe i'm your prince

Maea

And it feels like fear
Like I'll disappear

For a moment, she considered simply ignoring him. Long enough that a full set of slash, block, turn unfurled and was laid to rest on the wayside before her motions paused and the diminutive woman turned reluctant attention towards the Flood. She could have simply kept going... but he would be annoying about it if she didn't at least respond. If not now, then later.

Few people knew to collect and nurse grudges like the two of them.

"Alright," she responded, when he offered to join the dance. Breathless and cool as the snow whirling in the air, Maea waited for the man to reach her before she settled into the ready stance again. She was in no mood for thinking. Or remembering. Though with Sunjata here before her and a dagger in her hand, it was impossible to entirely escape the past.

It would keep haunting her as long as he insisted on hanging around. Or at least until she learned to ignore the pangs of regret that inevitably plagued her whenever she saw his face.

"What's up?" she asked, and initiated with a quick step in and towards the right - aiming her slash at his right shoulder. The off hand, as it were.

Gets so hard to steer
Yet I go on

SUNJATA

the flood

i'm suffocating the clock to keep you
i think like a saint, but swing like a thief

She doesn’t acknowledge his comment, which is fine. It’s not like Sunjata was seeking to make a conversation about it – simply an observation. An ice breaker. An opportunity to start speaking to one another again, supplemented with the offer of letting her test out her new tricks on him. It’s an option that she takes him up on, though, an acceptance as Sunjata imagines they’ll likely pick a starting point together, only… That’s not what happens.

She asks him what’s up and immediately goes for a slash at his nondominant hand, Sunjata taken by surprise with it as he raises his left hand, summoning some water as he tries to sidestep the attack, only to have the edge of the blade nick a line through his thick coat. “Ah,” he pauses, huffing a laugh of a cloud in the cold, trying to step back and send some of his crafted water toward her side, aiming to try and throw her off balance a bit. “I, uh, spoke to Darkeye a little while ago.” He says, leaving it open ended for her to say whether she wanted to bring up the concerns Darkeye had shared, or if she’d prefer he tell her the gist of what he understands.

and inadvertently leading you
to believe i'm your prince

Maea

And it feels like fear
Like I'll disappear

Maea took some pleasure in surprising him. Always had, really, and even more so now that she didn't have to care if it was pleasantly or otherwise. A quiet intensity lay about her this evening and it was clear she had little interest in straying from the practice - not even for setting up rules. What was the point of doing that, anyway? Battle would not wait for anyone to get ready, and the moment she let up, Sunjata would have the advantage, with his height and extensive reach.

And magic, apparently. If she hadn't known about it from before, it would have distracted Maea far more than it did. As it was now, the sensation of her dagger blade cutting into fabric kept her grounded, much like the soil beneath her feet and the quiet rhythm that still beat within her mind.
Cut, block, step.

"Oh? I imagine that went on for a while. The man can talk." Maea didn't really see how a conversation with the stocky blacksmith had anything to do with her. But she waited, to see where the man was going with this.

Much to her own surprise her feet brought her away from the counter attack with an easy grace, and before she stopped to congratulate herself - though it was tempting - Maea attempted to step in through Sunjata's guard and aim a lighting quick slash at his ribs.

Dangerous, to get so close. He would have the upper hand if she couldn't dodge the counter in time.

Gets so hard to steer
Yet I go on

SUNJATA

the flood

i'm suffocating the clock to keep you
i think like a saint, but swing like a thief

Oh Darkeye does indeed love to talk, but as far as Sunjata was concerned it was more akin to a friend caring for his friend. “We talked about other things mostly, but, he mentioned I should seek you out.” He mumbles as he sees the water attack fail, watches as she sidesteps it gracefully which only brings her closer to him.

Luckily for him, he knows just the space she’s about to aim for, moving surprisingly swiftly out of the way, given his size. He half turns, hands rising to guide more of that water straight toward her middle, trying to use it to his advantage to gain some space between them. “Something about Nate, I hear.” Darkeye intended to warn and/or fight Nate over what happened… And yet Sunjata still had no clue what it was about.

and inadvertently leading you
to believe i'm your prince