[Training] stick 'em with the pointy end

Maea was restless. There was a nervous itch within her that made sitting still a difficult task, and had her flipping through the pages of the book without actually reading. It ought to have been a cozy day. The fireplace was lit, a kettle of hot water for tea hung close to the cheerful flames and outside another storm had enveloped the Atheneum in dramatic darkness, accentuated by rumbles and the occasional flash as lightning crossed rhe sky. The patter of rain against windows she had helped restore should have been soothing, but it only made the young woman claustrophobic.

Working on the fields was impossible, the sheep were safely in their shed, she was tired of trying to wrestle meaning from the mess her eyes made of the writing...

With a sigh she pushed the tome aside and stood, making her way across the room towards the Provost's office. Jigano har been cooped up in there more often than not lately, and she would be more than surprised if the chair and the desk appeared empty as she knocked and entered.

"Jigano? I'm going to take a break. Care to join me for a bit?"

Tea was not exactly going to make her any less fidgety, but it was better than staring into space.

In some ways the rain was annoying, in that it kept him indoors and away from the half a dozen things he needed to be doing, on wings and feet and paws. In others, though, it was a blessing... it kept everyone else inside as well, gathered around warm fires or thick-glassed windows and avoiding the mud. Hopefully it gave them time to think, and mourn, and heal, and regret some of the words that had been spoke in fear.

And it gave him time to pour over the books he and Amalia had retrieved from the Underground library with Safrin's guidance.

His door was cracked slightly, in case someone needed him. Isuma lay in her basket, chewing fiercely on a stuffed felt mouse toy - real mice were still too fast for her, though she was starting to lose some of her baby fat and a few more feathers were fledging in on her wings. The gryphlet's ears swiveled to the door before Maea knocked, however, and Jigano had a moment of warning through their bond before the pale woman entered. She was met with a smile, and her suggestion had merit, the lorekeeper realized when he shifted and sent several pops down his back.

"A break sounds lovely," he admitted, a wry smile for the young loreseeker as he stood and stretched with a bit more thoroughness, following her out into the main room. His rapier with its swept basket hilt was leaning by his door, and as he went out he collected it and slid the sheath through the frogs on his belt with the mindless ease of ingrained habit. "How have your reading lessons been going? Is it getting any easier?" She didn't yet have spectacles he noticed, and made a mental note to try and find time to introduce her to Remi... well. Perhaps now wasn't the best time to go begging favors.

She headed for the fireplace and brought down two fresh cups. Adding a few pinches of peppermint bark to each, she poured the hot water over the first and hissed in vexation as she misjudged the distance to the second cup. Pulling away hands just in time to spare herself any burns, Jigano's question had her sighing with a bit more feeling than intended.

"The lessons are coming on alright" she replied and came over to the Lorekeeper with the mug. "Sam is patient and thorough, but he can't fix my eyes... and they have been getting worse lately."

Returning to clean up the mess she had made, Maea eventually leaned back against the fireplace and cradled her own cup between restless fingers, too at odds with the coziness of the room to settle.

"Most likely I'm developing several bad habits when I try to read anyway. But, with some luck I might be able to fix it soon." Or rather, Ludo would.

Eying her friend, Maea noted the rapier he had brought. Raising an eyebrow - a habit she had picked up from him - the girl looked at it pointedly.

"Do you expect to fight someone, or is that just a habit? I don't think anyone will ever attack you in here..." There was a glimmer of amusement in her gaze, a suggestion of teasing... unusual, as Maea wasn't known for her sense of humor.

He flinched as she spilled the hot water, holding himself back from hurrying to her side and letting her handle the mess when she proved to be unharmed by the small mishap. He accepted the mug she handed him gravely instead, smiling a little at her praise of Sam, but the smile faded at the reminder that her eyes were steadily worsening. "Perhaps there is another Maker..." he murmured, half to himself. Someone who could use their magic to make her normal spectacles, at least until a more permanent magical fix could be found. The man who had made their new windows, perhaps? A Natural mage, Jigano had his name written down somewhere...

His musing was cut short by Maea's unexpected news that she was going to fix it herself, and he raised his brow at her, even as she echoed the motion and looked to the weapon he'd brought along without realizing it. Distracted from pursuing that question - for the moment - he chuckled and patted the hilt of the blade fondly. "Habit, after getting attacked more than once in places we felt safe." He grinned, blowing on his tea to cool it before taking the tiniest of cautious sips in spite of the heat. "Did Sam tell you that the first time we came down here, we were attacked by a nest of paper wasps? And then there's the Sentient Book vault," he added, nodding towards the locked metal door across the room. "You only forget your sword once when trouble finds you."

He tilted his head, looking Maea's slim form over for a moment in a thoughtful sort of way, taking in her slim arms and short stature. "Have you ever held a sword before? I'm guessing you hunted with a bow... ah, before your eyesight began deteriorating?"

Shrugging off the concern for her eyes with a disinterest that spoke more about avoidance than acceptance, Maea eyed the rapier with renewed interest. Something almost hungry came across her features as Jigano mentioned the adventures; paper wasps? And sentient books?

"No, he definitely skipped over those parts. I've heard nothing more about your meeting with Safrin either... yours and Amalia's" she amended, reluctantly acknowledging the woman's part in the story. It was not her intention to be bitter, or jealous; no doubt it had been more frightening than exciting or interesting, and yet she couldn't help the feeling of having been left out.

Which was of course ridiculous. She was here now, right? And Jigano was still kind, even with hands full of his own burdens to carry. Just because her ghosts made her feel weak and useless didn't mean she was, or that others thought of her like that.

Right?

"No, never. Never used a bow either... I call it hunting but I really only set traps. Or threw rocks with my ability." Neither of which took much strength or skill, only time and patience.

Weak. Powerless to do anything.

"Show me how to use it?" she asked, again with that hungry look in her eyes.

"The Wasps and the Books are supposed to be written down in the Chronicle he's making for us, so all Loreseekers can read of them," he said lightly, hiding the inward frown at hearing that Sam had not been keeping up with his guild duties. "As for the meeting with Safrin... that was Amalia's doing, not mine," he admitted, rueful humility mixed with fondness for one of his founding Loreseekers who was becoming one of his dearer friends. "We're still trying to sort through all that we learned that day. The goddess was generous, and we have a number of new books that need to be catalogued and annotated..." he hesitated, then gave a little shrug of one shoulder as his eyes refocused on Maea's pale features. "But I did not realize you were so close with Ludo, either," he finished with a brow arched in question, remembering a cloak of spooky rags topped with a white mask that had draped itself over Maea's shoulders at the Battle of the Spire.

"Ah, trapping! That's good to know," the bard grinned, pleased at her unexpected talent. "Having someone who knows their way around traps might come in handy when we start mapping the underground..." he paused, humor slipping into more sober lines. "Or exploring the inside of the Spire. Though I'd definitely want you to have some sort of spectacles before that." Harder to recognize the trigger for a trap she couldn't see, after all, and he had no intention of endangering one of his loreseekers when precautions could be taken to minimize the risk.

He was a little surprised at her avid hunger for the blade, but as he tilted his head and watched her measuringly he remembered the loss of her family during Long Night. How helpless that could feel, arriving to find oneself too late to help... knowing that even if you had been earlier, you lacked the power to have changed the outcome. He nodded his head slowly, accepting her request and settling his hand on the pommel of his sword thoughtfully.

Drawing it from its scabbard in one smooth pull he placed it on the table and motioned her over. "First, we'll start with vocabulary," he said, smiling at his student as he gestured to the blade. "The haft is the pommel, handle, basket, and quillons - the cross guard, here, for catching and binding your opponent's blade," he explained. "The basket protects your own hand from being sniped - from your opponent trying to jam their sword into your hand or fingers to force you to let go, while the pommel counterweights the blade so it balances efficiently in your hand. If you pursue a sword of your own, we'll have to experiment to find a pommel of the right weight for your own strength and balance." His own was likely too heavy for the much smaller woman, balanced as it was for his own specific arm length and comfort.

He moved his hand to point at the broadest width of the blade, nearest to the quillions and gestured to about half its length. "This is the 'strong' part of the blade. The widest, thickest part, and the part you will do most of your blocking and parrying with because there is less flex in this part of the steel." He shifted to the half of the blade that ended in its razor sharp point. "And this is the 'weak' part of the blade. Though you will do your feinting and thrusting with this part it is more fragile and likely to bend or break if you attempt to block or guard with it. The overlap between the two is the 'middle' and like its name it holds properties of both." He looked to his friend and raised a brow to see what she thought of the lesson so far. "Is this making sense, or do you have any questions yet?"

"You really think I would be of any help in such a situation?" Her smile was flattered and dubious, the idea of entering hidden and forgotten places both scary and alluring. Gratified that he even considered her for such a task erased some of the envy from her mind, and Maea even straightened her back when he agreed to show her the rapier.

Though somewhat surprised as Jigano seemed intent on turning this into a fullscale lecture rather than just letting her hold the blade, she did as he asked and came up to the table. The weapon gleamed in the firelight and seemed both beautiful and frightening to her eyes, a potential for protection and a sure promise of pain. Long, slender, lethal... a quick glance at her teacher had Maea wondering if the man was in any way similar to the blade.

"Haft, pommel, handle, basket, kvi...kvillon" she repeated, stumbling somewhat on the foreign word. "The strong base is for blocking, the weaker tip is for attacking, and the middle can do both. Go ahead, I can keep up." Her eyes might be bad, but her memory was all the better for lack of visual support. Not flawless, no, but she was good at memorizing.

Less skilled at avoiding difficult questions though. It was not one she could shrug of easily either, but... was it something for others to know about?

"I wouldn't say that we are close. But..." Maea hesitated, then looked at the blue eyed man from under her heavy bangs, considering. Perhaps if it was Jigano, talking about it would be alright. Ludo had not said it was a secret.

"Ludo appeared, a while ago. I was praying like I always do, and... for the first time, I was answered. I asked if there was a way to fix my eyes... We made a deal."

Maea knew it should terrify her, that she ought to worry and consider this bargain carefully... But truth be told, she was not the least bit scared. Ludo had been gentle and kind, and asked for her trust. Just thinking about it, and the way the God har sought her out in the midst of a crowd was enough to make her smile. Softly, tenderly... It was not just for the sake of her eyes she looked forward to meeting the miscievous soulkeeper again.

"You have more experience with traps than anyone else I've spoken with here," he said with a chuckle. "Something else we can practice, perhaps when the weather is nicer." How much he could construct on his own and with the lack of magic and specialized tools to help him was yet to be seen, but he might be able to give her some mockups to practice with, and get her thinking about how she would construct traps in stone and darkness so that she could recognize the signs if they came across them in their explorations... Ah, but an activity for another day.

"Key-on," he corrected lightly, tapping the cross guard for emphasis. "But the proper use of those is a more advanced lesson, once you are comfortable with blocking and parrying." He grinned at her accurate recitation of the words and had started to look around for some chalk when she answered an earlier question he had been most curious about. He raised a brow as she started and then stopped again, but at her hesitation he gave her a solemn nod and waited patiently for her to find the right words at her own pace. What she said was both curious and worrisome, and his brow furrowed in thought as he pushed away from the table and roamed the hall until he found the chalk he had been looking for.

"I  hope the solution they offer is worth the price you paid," the lorekeeper said gravely. "I only have a few experiences with them myself, but from what I know they can be honorable and honest but also capricious and..." he paused, and the corner of his mouth quirked down into a grim frown. "Even vengeful." He sighed. "Know what you are asking of them and be very specific about it, or the result may be, ah, not what you had intended."

He knelt as he spoke, looking to Maea's height measuringly and then sketching a light chalk diamond on the floor in an open area of the hall. The length of each side was roughly one wide stride for her and he stood up, nodding to the diagram and moving to stand next to it. "The next lesson a student of the blade must learn is footwork," he said, hearing the chiding words of the old cleric of Brigh who had taught him in the echo of his voice. "Before you ever touch a sword with your hand, you must first learn to move your feet!" He demonstrated on an invisible diamond of his own, stepping from his starting position to a 90 degree angle to the left and forward, then returning to his starting place. "Once you're holding a sword it will be hard to remember your feet, so it's important to start training that muscle memory first. There will be times when a straight forward lunge will be your only option, but those will be rare. Far more often you will want to attack - and defend - on an angle. This exercise is to help you learn how to step along that angle and maintain your balance. Stand at the 'bottom' point of your diamond and follow my lead..." he instructed, showing Maea how to stand and how to step, holding her posture and balance when moving forward and backward, and how to shift angles by moving from the bottom to a side point of the diagram and then forward again to the top before retreating down the other side and returning to the start.

The winds of change were truly blowing strong now. Since when did farmgirls commune with gods, shape books from leather and paper and dance with a blade in mind, thinking of how the world began and ended? Yet here she was, learning how to become terrible and laughing as she learned, not even knowing where this path might lead. Not to an orchard at the height of spring, certainly, or to the sheep in green meadow as the leaves turned and the stars burned bright overhead.

Was this what it meant to be a Loreseeker? Was that the path she had chosen? While the barrier still stood it seemed as distant a thing as dark dungeons or Ludo's wrath, and Maea was not concerned with what could be.

"I'll be fine" she said confidently - unusual in the soft spoken girl. "'All gods are capable of terrible things', so Ludo said itself, but I don't know why it would harm me. I have given it no reason to, and don't intend to either." Besides, it was too late to be cautious now. This was not Isla being remade into unicorn flesh, or something as impossible. Maea just wanted to see, and see well; surely there could not be anything to misunderstand or interpret there.

As Jigano carried on with the lesson and fell further into the role as a teacher, the slender girl followed along eagerly. The stepping might be important but to her it felt more like a game, a dance she was not yet familiar with. Remembering was easy, though her body did not catch up quite as quickly; occasionally Maea would stumble, and the turns were a bit slow. But she smiled, and enjoyed herself, and the restlessness of before melted away as if it be never been there at all. She was doing something, and it made everything so much better.

"How long before I can touch the sword?" she asked at one point. Not so much impatient as she was curious, interested in knowing what to expect and to hear Jigano's assessment of her so far. Probably it was early to say anything at, and impossible to deem her genius or hopeless from simply a few steps along a chalked line... but it did not hurt to ask.

He was pleased to hear the confidence in his friend's voice, though he wished she had chosen a different topic to be confident on. Reading, for instance, or calculus. He was coming dangerously close to liking Ludo after what he had learned about the masked god's past, but that didn't mean he was going to let his guard down around them. Mortal they might once have been, but they were driven now by impulses and rules no mortal could truly understand. Thinking that they operated on the same ties of logic and loyalty as the mayfly creatures that flitted over the surface of Caido on two legs and swollen egos was a mistake with consequences Remi now knew, and he feared Maea would learn.

But it was her lesson, not his, and it was far too late to change what had been done. He simply inclined his head in acceptance and moved on with the lesson at hand, which he at least could help with.

He moved alongside her at first, then as she grew more confident in the steps and shifts of body weight he turned his attention to gentle correction and adjustment. "An excellent beginning," he said in satisfaction after she had mastered the basic angle and shown she could repeat it on her own without further need of his input. "Try to practice that every day when you can. If you find yourself waiting or between tasks, or taking your farm animals out into the fields. The diamond is a tool to help you visualize your angles, but you can draw a W as well. Begin working out into larger areas, combining two diamonds, and then four, so that you begin to see many directions you can go with that simple step."

Her question earned a chuckle, blue eyes twinkling in delight as Jigano grinned at her eagerness. "Before we finish the lesson, though for now it will just be to test the weight for you. If you're serious about continuing lessons we'll wait for a dry day and cut you a branch we can whittle into a practice sword until a metal one can be forged for you, once you know what your preferred length is."Somehow he didn't think the master smith who helped him with his charms would be pleased to make a weapon, but perhaps Caiside...

"Now that you have begun to work with your feet you will also need to learn accuracy," he said, tone growing solemn. With her eyesight it would be more difficult but not, he hoped, impossible. When in doubt, aim for the center of mass, after all. He took up his piece of chalk again and made a mark on the wall near the fireplace, checking with Maea until it was large enough for her to see clearly. "The broom might not be the noblest of weapons," he acknowledged with a grin as he carefully unbound the bristles from the oldest besom that had been left behind after the Hall's initial cleaning. Its handle was short - but then, so was Maea, and he handed it to her before positioning her far enough away from the wall that she would have to lunge-step at full extension to touch the tip of the broom to the spot he had marked. "But it can still sweep a foe off their feet, in a well-trained hand!" He winked at her and hefted his own broom with its bristles still intact. He was willing to sacrifice the twiggy old besom to their training, but not the softer-bristled and far more efficient tool they usually used for cleaning up. "Hold the wood firmly, but don't squeeze - let the pressure rest in your last two fingers," he showed her as he explained. "Curl your fingers around, like so, with your knuckles facing down and rest your index finger along the length of it - this will be your guide. Ah - don't cock your wrist like that, your arm should be flat from elbow to the tip of the index finger, like so." Once he was satisfied with her ability to hold the broom stick he demonstrated the diagonal step they had been practicing, but this time with the point of his broom lightly touching the center of the mark before he pulled back in retreat; one slow step forward, then returning to his starting position. "Now, you try. Move as slowly as you can while you get used to splitting your attention three ways," he suggested, moving out of her way. "Your feet, your grip, and your target."

He was nothing if not thorough, and Maea soon found that she had to focus in order to keep up with the instructions. The casual conversation died out, and a concentrated silence fell över her as she worked. Yet even as she was handed the broom and shown how to hold it and practice the lunge against the mark on the wall, she couldn't help but wonder why Jigano did all this. Did he simply enjoy teaching, or was there something else behind his good intentions? He was such a private person, rarely speaking of himself and always avoiding topic that brought center of attention towards himself. What kind of demons really haunted this traveler, lost in a strange world...?

Slowly, like a doll moving through the motions of a dance attached on strings, Maea stepped and held and aimed for the mark. The motion felt strange to her, the body unaccustomed to the new form of coordination; she retreated and tried again, and again. With each time Jigano adjusted her grip, her stance, the way she unconsciously tilted her head to aid faltering eyes, and with each attempt the girl improved just a little.

Her arm tired first. Then her back, and when she found herself sweatsoaked and out of breath and oblivious to how long they had been at it, a stumble sent the broom too hard against the wall. The impact jarred Maea, loosened her grip on the wood and the handle fell clattering to the floor. Leaning tired hands against her knees she stopped and breathed, sucking down sweet mouthfuls of air until the world no longer spun around her.

Only then did she reach for the broom again, intent on continuing until she was told to stop. Was she serious about this? Right now she was, and Maea was stubborn. It might have been a spur of the moment idea, but Jigano taking her seriously and accommodating the desire to change was encouraging. His smile was a bolster, the change from amiable friend to stern instructor a challenge to keep up and improve.

Yes, Maea was serious. She wanted to learn all that he could teach, and she did not want to let this person down.

"Could you show me what it's supposed to look like?" she asked him, and eyed the sword she had yet to see in his hand. "Maybe visualising would be easier that way."

Jigano may have been the instructor, but Maea was an adult and knew her own limits far better than he did. He gravely allowed her to continue pushing herself while he continued his corrections, gently but firmly to try and cut off any bad habits before they could form: Hold the sword closer to your body when at rest so your arm doesn't get so tired. Don't overextend the knee on the lunge or you'll overbalance and be unable to retreat fast enough if your blade is parried. Hold your spine straight but not rigid. Drop your shoulders and keep them relaxed.

It felt a little strange to be passing along his old teacher's wisdom. Joram Kyta had also used sticks to teach the young Oracle, but his lessons had been taken to heart and had saved Jigano's life on many occasions since. Like the old cleric, he praised Maea when she moved well, and was patient with her when she made a mistake. Given that this was her first time attempting to learn anything of the sword he was quietly impressed with her determination and endurance as the time passed and she began to make inroads on the lesson.

When she finally became too tired and her movements too sloppy for the lesson to matter he stepped back, letting her catch her breath. He retrieved their tea mugs and filled them with plain water, which he handed to her with a smile at her request. "Just the lunge?" He asked, tilting his head to the side with a grin. "Or what you will be able to do after a few years of practicing?" He had caught her longing glance towards his rapier and he chuckled as he moved to collect it. The blade fit into his hand like an extension of his arm, a familiar part of him as he moved to a guard position and then demonstrated the thrust at an angle. From there he followed up, sweeping an invisible opponent's blade high and striking down with the glittering tip before retreating from an attack only he could see, parrying low and out as he danced back and to the side before parrying and following the line of his foe's sword straight into their body. Again he retreated, working with the confines of the room and furniture as he moved slowly enough for Maea to see each attack and defense clearly while keeping up footwork that was fluidly continuous, never stopping or falling into a pattern that his opponent could predict unless he was deliberately drawing them into a trap. He finished facing Maea, saluting her with the blade before sheathing it at his side.

"If you stay with your daily practice of what you learned today, and continue to build on it, that is what you will eventually look like," he said, giving his student an encouraging smile.

She had grinned back, knowing he would understand the desire to catch a glimpse of the future, and was rewarded when the Provost collected his blade and began to dance. Because that's what it was, really. A beautiful, deadly waltz that saw him swirling through the room; slowly, yes, but with such grace that it left her stunned. Maea har never seen anyone wield a sword like that. It was different from the powerful sweeping cuts Roana had wielded against the demon, or the swift nimbleness Peter had produced a knife with. This was like watching water flow, and Maea thought she could sense the suppressed strength hidden within each motion.

He could hit harder. He could move faster. And he came to a stop because there was no need to do either, and no one here worth engaging.

For one brief, wild moment she wondered what it would be like to face Jigano in a real fight.

"I will practice" she promised, the slightly awed smile curbed by a deep sincerity. "I will learn. To read, and fight, to set traps and undo them, and how to uncover hidden truths... "

For the first time Maea found herself wanting something for herself. Not to be useful, not so that she wouldn't be a burden or slow others down, but for her own sake, because it sparked joy inside. She didn't want to be a farmer, or a ruler, or a pawn in the game of higher powers...

She wanted to be a Loreseeker. Truly, solely, with all her heart.

But first she had to learn, and she smiled widely at the white haired man.
"You are a good teacher, Jigano. I couldn't have found anyone better. Whatever the gods might want with you here I don't know, but I'm really glad you came to Caido."

"Practice is the heart of mastery," he encouraged, smiling at his friend and student but feeling an unexpected trickle of trepidation at the hint of awe in her tone. Respect, he appreciated, but awe? No, no, he had no desire to go down that road again or add another burden to his collection of souls. But she was so earnest, so sincere, that he couldn't help but swallow his discomfort and offer her a courtly bow.

"With all of that you will be not merely a loreseeker," he said quietly, "but an adventurer in your own right, with your own legend for Sam to record and for future loreseekers to look to for inspiration." A prediction of the future, he hoped, and not an unrequited dream as their world teetered and hung in a precarious balance.

He moved to gather the besom twigs, scooping them into the fireplace to crackle and glow with the fire that crawled inside them before they shriveled and curled to ash amid the flames. "Oh, there are plenty better," he said lightly. "With broadsword and longsword and shortsword as well... though I will admit I have not seen many rapiers here, and with our slighter builds those are the blades that suit us best." He turned back to her, his usual wry smile back in place as he placed his hand over his heart and bowed his head in acceptance of her words. "But I, too, am glad my road brought me here. Thank you, Maea." He glanced towards the open door of his office, and the fading natural light that spilled from it. "Though it might be time for you to head home, so you don't have to travel in the dark. I hope I'll see you again tomorrow, though. I'll leave the chalk marks up for awhile so you can practice whenever you're here."