You do Know How to Use a Sword..Right? (Rhi-Rhi)

[Anonymous]

"YAAAA!!!"

Fayt watched absently as the trainees lunged for each other, clearly trying to show off. It was pathetic really, no city guards screamed battle cries as they chased truants through the streets. Neither did they gossip like a flocking of giggling girls when they should have been training.

Furious, he stalked toward the gang of recruits and stared each one of them down. "If you want to talk, you can save it for everyone who wants to know why you've been shipped back home so soon! Now get out there before I start showing each one of you what a real soldier is like!"

Short and to the point, but it was a threat he intended to follow through. When he was just a recruit, no one even dared to blink for fear they would miss something... Although he wasn't much of teacher, it was a much his fault as it was theirs. Fayt was better at being on duty, making rounds through the city... not siting here playing babysitter. He would rather have his books burned.

Keeping a steady eye on the group he had scolded, the elder soldier gazed around to check on the other young soldiers-in-training. This would be a very long day.

[Rhindeer]

Whoops.

Faolán hunched his shoulders under the older soldier's glare and shot an apologetic look his way. He had somehow gotten wrapped up in an intense conversation about some girls the other boys had spotted outside a church earlier that morning, a few of them snickering about how 'pious' those girls really were. Some of the boys here were local and knew them personally, from the sounds of it. Something about how one of them sure spent a lot of time on her knees in the back pews, which sent the others into gales of laughter. Faolán didn't get the joke--wasn't that what you did in a church? Prayed?--and he'd been listening in to try and get it when their instructor interrupted them.

Flushing with embarrassment, feeling like he'd just been caught doing something naughty, he bent to pick up his wooden practice sword again.

THWACK!

Something struck him on the back of the knees, sweeping his legs out from under him, and he went down with a yelp and a thud to land sprawled out on his back. More laughter broke out and he looked up to see one of the older boys--Tamir, he was called--standing over him, thumping his practice sword in his open palm and beaming proudly over at the instructor. "That better, teach? Nice surprise attack, huh? Huh?"

Faolán hated that kid. He'd picked on him ever since they'd met, called him girly and other such names, and then got even more pissed when Faolán fought back. Staring up at him, at that cocky grin, he suddenly wanted to wipe it right off.

With a scowl, Faolán rolled into a sore crouch and grabbed his sword--"Left your guard down, stupid!"--and swung as hard as he could for Tamir's foot, feeling the blow all up his arms as it connected with a satisfying crack. Fortunately for Tamir, he was wearing boots, but from the way he hopped around and cursed he sure felt it!

Nervous laughter burst out among the nearby recruits, who knew a budding fight when they saw one and had stopped their practice to watch.

"You little goat-fucker!" Tamir snarled, and Faolán had only a split second to dodge when the larger boy lunged for him. "Get back here!"

Dropping his sword, knowing he was more than outmatched there, Faolán lunged to his feet and ran, because if there was one thing he was good at, it was sprinting from danger, and what had seemed like a good idea at the time--and what had provided him with so much instant gratification--was now filed away into the Bad Idea category.

It was likewise a Bad Idea that he was so focused on escaping that he hadn't been watching where he was going and crashed right into Fayt.

[Anonymous]

The boy was right, it was a good surprise attack... but Fayt had played victim to the teasing of cocky show-offs like Tamir, simply because he preferred reading to waving wooden swords around. So he ignored the young boy's gloating, effectively drowning out the sounds of an inevitable brawl to gauge how much longer he had to sit here.

When the screams reached his ears it was already too late; Fayt had one second to observe the chase before the smaller boy rammed right into him. Pain was the only thing he was aware of now as he crashed into the stones below, damn that kid must've been heavier than he looked.

Once again furious, Fayt ignored all the pain and pulled Faolán up by his forearm. "Can't take my eyes off a single one of you." Letting go of the boy, he fixed his gaze upon the older of the pair, taking note of the glare he fixed upon Faolán. "You," he towered over Tamir, "I said to practice, not to start pointless crap. If you want to bully someone then why don't you try me? It's been awhile since a I had a good duel with a punk like you."

With that he picked up his own wooden sword, cut to weigh as much as a steel blade, and brandished at the recruit. He would never admit it but he felt for the younger kid, being in his place made him a bit sympathetic... even if he was pissed about being run into.

[Rhindeer]

Bruised and mortified because ohdearAnsgar this was not his day, Faolán had a million apologies on the tip of his tongue when Fayt pulled him to his feet--and rounded on Tamir instead.

And it was really, really satisfying to watch the blood drain from Tamir's face as Fayt brandished his practice sword at him.

The bully took a step away from Fayt, shaking his head, suddenly not so tough. "N-no, sir! That's okay, sir!" he stammered, looking around as though for help. His eyes landed on Faolán briefly, a murderous look in his gaze, and then he turned back to Fayt and backed up some more. "Lesson learned, sir!"

Hiding behind Fayt, Faolán grinned and stuck his tongue out at the older boy, then thumbed his nose for good measure. Hah! That's what he got!

[Anonymous]

Satisfaction also filled Fayt as he watched Tamir visibly shrink before him. Though his face remained stoic and hard before all the young trainees.

"Good. Make sure you don't forget it, or I'll force you to remember." With that he swung his sword to the side, made an effortless little flourish, and rested it a top his shoulder. All without blinking. It wasn't a show of bravado, at least not primarily.

With a glare to the onlookers he said, "That goes for the rest of you. Anyone who starts this shit gets to guard the kitchens, with some voluntary work for most of their shift, and a long private lesson from me." Which reminded him of...

He instantly whirled on Faolán. "Taunting him makes me think you might profit greatly from a few lessons yourself." His voice lowered and his face lost some of its edge as he gave the kid some advice. "Don't make him hate you more. I have my own rounds to make and other priorities so I'm not always going to be around to keep him cowed. Either keep yourself on his good side or learn to hold up better in a fight."

Turning to leave, his side gave a reminding ache. "And learn to watch where you're running."

[Rhindeer]

Faolán sobered the instant Fayt whirled on him, back straightening, shoulders sliding back, and eyes fixed on him. Nope, he hadn't been making faces or nothing. Not him, sir.

Wisely, he kept his mouth shut through the lecture and nodded solemnly. "Yes, sir." It was good advice, except he wasn't sure how to make the kid stop hating him. But alright! Don't antagonize him. He could do that. He could! Sure, he'd tried before, but he just hadn't been trying hard enough and--

Ack! And now he was leaving?

Faolán looked slowly over to where Tamir was sparring with a group of older kids. The boy caught his eye, glared murder at him and then, slowly and deliberately, drew his finger across his throat and smirked. Faolán swallowed hard and then walked fast to catch up with Fayt. Yep, he got the message, loud and clear.

"Hey! Rounds! I like rounds, sir," he said, falling into step beside the man and grinning a bit too broadly. "Why, Leon--he's my mentor--he's taken me on some rounds. Lots of 'em! We patrolled the woods, even! Spelled woods with witches. I even got a scar there! Well, not there, it's on my leg, but you know what I mean, sir." Because scars were manly and impressive and maybe that would impress Fayt, too.

[Anonymous]

The older soldier had been relieved, finally getting a bit of time to himself as he left for his much needed break. Until a voice reached his ears.

Fayt sighed, but listened quietly. Why did he help this kid again? No one had helped him with his bully, finally he'd gotten strong enough to beat him back up. That's how Fayt had gotten rid of his problem.

"If you'd practice like you're supposed to then you'd have scars and bruises in more impressive places." Cold, but Fayt enjoyed his alone time, immensely. "Look, I'm not taking you on any rounds with me. I can't do my job properly while babysitting you. Look kid, stop running from that patsy and stand up for yourself. People can't always do it for you and coddle you, pretending that they just happen to have a vendetta against your enemies. You're too old for that crap anyway."

[Rhindeer]

That took the wind out of his sails fast.

Grimacing, Faolán came to a stop and dropped his eyes to the ground. Ouch. Yet it probably stung so much because, deep down, he knew it was true. He wouldn't get any better if he didn't practice--and Tamir wouldn't stop if he didn't stick up for himself. Still, he would have liked to get out of this situation, at least until his legs stopped smarting--or when he could lose himself in a large group.

"Oh. Uh, sorry, sir," he said, taking a step back. Even he knew he could only push his luck so far, and it seemed he'd reached his limit. "You're right. Er, sorry for bothering you, sir!" With a quick salute and a reluctant look back at the practicing recruits, he turned and headed for a group that was practicing swordplay--which also happened to be the group that was the farthest away from Tamir and his posse.

[Anonymous]

It was the right thing to do, wasn't it?

Fayt turned to watch the boy sulk away... he felt horrible, like he was sending the kid to his hell. How many days had he prayed that someone would offer to teach him and step in while the bullies had him cornered? Too many.

This was his time though! It was the escape that he'd wanted, a chance to get away from all these immature adolescents... He swung a quick glance at Tamir, taunts and threats would no longer appease him, not after Fayt had stepped in for Faolán's defense.

"Kid!" he called after the solemn boy, "Grab your sword and hurry up! If you get left behind I'm not coming back for you." He was only doing this to appease his conscious... nothing more.

[Rhindeer]

Faolán stopped short, then spun around in surprise, blinking in confusion with his head slightly tilted. Huh? What? But he'd just said--!

It took a moment for him to realize just what Fayt was saying, but when it registered his expression brightened, eyes lighting up and a wide grin breaking out on his face. Really? He got to come?! He suddenly realized he was gaping in awe and snapped himself out of it fast. Sure didn't wanna get left behind!

"Oh! Right! Yeah! Sure thing, sir! Be right there, sir! I'm comin', sir!" he said and practically fell all over himself in his mad dash back toward where he'd dropped his practice sword. He scooped it up, slung it over one shoulder, and jogged after Fayt.

By the time he reached him, he was panting, but he was thrilled. "I won't disappoint ya, sir, promise!"

[Anonymous]

The soldier sighed, scolding himself for giving in. How was he supposed to work with the boy following him around like a lost puppy? Maybe he'd get lucky and his officer would order the kid back to training with the others... Well he could only hope. Right now he even wished for a mage to show up so he could leave.

The things he put up with to appease his conscious...

Fayt raised one dark eyebrow as the boy ran back to him. "We'll see." That was it: no reassuring words, no pats on the back, no approval showed at all. Faolán would truly have to prove that he wasn't just wasting his time to keep from disappointing the older man.

He still had a lot of proving to do.

"Remember, you fall behind and you'll be finding your own way back to this place. I won't come after you," he started as he turned his back on the kid and walked out of the training court. His pace was brisk, long legs carrying him quickly through the halls.

[Rhindeer]

"Understood, sir!" Faolán answered, far too thrilled at getting allowed to tag along to really notice the man's doubt. All that mattered was that he wouldn't be having to deal with Tamir and that he got to go and do something exciting that the other kids didn't get to come along for. Maybe this patrol would be the most boring thing ever, but who cared?

He wasn't stuck whacking people with fake swords. He was getting to go on a real patrol with a real soldier!

...With his fake sword still in tow, but that was irrelevant.

"Oh, yeah! By the way! I'm Faolán," he introduced, picking up his pace so he could fall into stride beside the man. "So where're we going?"

[Anonymous]

The kid's over-enthusiasm would take some getting used to... "Well, I was going to take my break right now; instead I need to see if you can handle an actual sword before I drag you out on any actual patrols with me." Fayt was relieved to see the armory door, he longed for his blade back instead of this wooden forgery.

"If you can't hold out against me very long I'm sending you back with the other trainees. I can't spend half my time guarding you against criminals far more sadistic than your bully." That meant he would not go easy on the kid. It would haunt him forever if he took Faolán with him only to get him killed.

Opening the creaking doors, the glint of finely polished steel glittered in a greeting to the two soldiers. Placing down his practice sword, he motioned for the kid to do the same as he reacquainted himself with a heavy double-edge blade.

"Pick one that feels comfortable in your hands, make sure it's just right or the weight will work against you." He spun the blade absentmindedly as he added, "You may call me Fayt if you wish or possess questions."

Not too many, he hoped.

[Rhindeer]

A real sword? That was both exciting and a little intimidating. Mostly exciting, and damned if he wasn't determined to do this! He would go on that patrol. He wasn't about to go back to creepy Tamir. He could do this! He was ready for this! Ready to do stuff that mattered like protecting civilians and hunting down criminals and fighting down mages!

...Well, maybe not the mage thing, that was still a little too freaky. Magic. Eugh.

Nodding in agreement as Fayt instructed him, he headed over to the swords and set his practice sword down. Hokay! The right weight. Carefully, Faolán lifted and tested several of the smaller ones (the big ones were way to...well, big for him) before settling on one that felt pretty similarly weighted to his practice sword. He held it up and tested the balance, then gave it an experimental swing.

"Alright, Fayt. I think I found the one. So, uh, we're gonna be going one-on-one with...these?" He motioned with his sword. He wouldn't lie, the idea of sparring against Fayt with naked steel was kind of unsettling.

[Anonymous]

The older soldier waited patiently for the kid to pick out a sword that felt right; he was pleased that Faolán heeded his advice and actually looked. He had seen other trainees, too eager to impress their superiors, pick up blades over half their own weight. Then he watched as they were taken to the infirmary because they had stupidly gotten beaten down for their ignorance.

"Indeed," he said slightly amused, this kid didn't know how lucky he was. Fayt was tall, and good with a sword, but sometimes his height and lankiness made him a bit clumsy. If Faolán held out long enough to see that, he could use it to his advantage.

That was the real test here; he figured the boy could use the blade as well as the other trainees, which was enough for now, but not everyone could hold out against an experienced officer and exploit their weakness. If he could do that then Fayt wouldn't even question taking him on a patrol with him.

"I'm ready when you are, start when you're ready." No sense in scaring the kid by rushing him. They had plenty of room in the armory, as well as privacy, perfect place for a one-on-one.

[Rhindeer]

Oh jeez. Faolán took a deep breath and slid into position, elbows bent and sword raised. Right. Okay. Just, uh, just pretend this is a wooden sword. But what if he like...stabbed Fayt? Or got stabbed? Well, he'd have to use real steel eventually, and he was pretty decent with the practice swords. He'd even been able to hold out again guys bigger than him, using his smaller size and quicker speed to his advantage. But those were other trainees like him, not actual soldiers like Fayt.

"Alright," he said with a nod and, with another deep breath, he focused, found his center, and moved.

He didn't charge Fayt; instead, he walked in cautiously, sizing Fayt up. He'd tried the whole charging thing when he'd first started, but learned the hard way that that just earned you a beat-down; it left you vulnerable and unbalanced. So now he circled Fayt, then feinted a thrust, gauging the other man.

[Anonymous]

Good, very good. Fayt had figured that the boy would rush him like most of the brainless trainees here, instead he was being cautious. Still, there was over a million mistakes to be made with a sword. Just because he managed to steer away from a few couldn't save him in a life-death situation if he wavered.

The older man jumped away from the thrust and smiled when he realized it had been a ploy to gauge him. "Not too bad kid, but you still haven't passed the minute mark yet." With that he swept the sword in a downward arc toward Faolán's legs.

Being the flat of the sword, it wouldn't cut if the blade made contact, but the kid might find it most unpleasant.

[Rhindeer]

"Ah!" Faolán gave a surprised yelp and swung his blade down just in time to block the blow to his legs, a streak of panic racing through him. It didn't occur to him that Fayt would only strike him with the flat of his blade. Maybe that was the logical idea, but right then, sparring with the soldier with real swords, all he knew was that they were real swords of the cutting variety!

It threw him off balance but he quickly raised his blade back to the defensive and flashed Fayt a nervous grin. "Minute mark? Uh, how long are we going?"

Oh Ansgar, he hoped he didn't have to beat Fayt to prove himself capable! Was defending himself enough? Well, better not take that chance. Stepping toward Fayt and into his range, he thrust again, not a feint this time.

[Anonymous]

A smile briefly fluttered across the soldier's face; he could still recall his first sparring match with an older officer. It was not a time he had been proud of, in his fighting history that is.

"Until I deem you ready to go out with an actual blade or stay and train some more." It could take minutes, or it could take an hour. Fayt wouldn't over work Faolán, if the kid start to get too tired he would stop.

Not expecting the young trainee to be brave enough for an actual attack yet, Fayt was forced into a defensive position to block the thrust in time. Side-stepping, as to not be stuck in defense all evening, the heavy blade parried Faolán's then retreated to make a thrust of its own.