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Into the Icy Darkness II: The Next Generation
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<blockquote data-quote="Emperor Valerian" data-source="post: 1615370" data-attributes="member: 15043"><p>The next three days for Eyrna and Simeon passed all too slowly as they trudged through the deep woods to the north of Iskeldrun. Batterner Wood had always been known as a place of secrecy, a place of plots and schemes. Its tangled depths allowed those who wished to talk of dark things to do so in private... if they knew the way in and more importantly, ways back out from the wood’s dark depths.</p><p></p><p>AS each day passed by, it seemed that the trees overhead grew thicker, more gnarled, and more frightening. The underbrush grew thicker, and at times both young nobles coudl swear that it tried to catch them repeatedly, as they often had to unwrap vines and roots from around their ankles.</p><p></p><p>Still they pushed forward, led by the dark man in black, who seemed to expertly navigate the confusing array as if it were his second home.</p><p></p><p>Each night, despite being cold, tired, and frequently hungry, the two siblings slept assured of one thing... their Uncle had recieved their message, and their backup plans were being played out.</p><p></p><p><em>Even now, Uncle is marshalling the armies at Thuyiden...</em> she thought quietly. From then on out, things depended on who led the initial imperial attack on the gathering forces... and who answered her uncle’s call. </p><p></p><p>If the nobles of the Empire rose in arms, or even if most of them merely stood aside, House Erelion stood a chance. If most fell on their colleagues, it would be a great slaughter...</p><p></p><p><em>Which is why we need that stone!</em> she heard her uncle’s voice again. <em>With its power, we can turn the tide of battle!</em> That need was the only reason she was willingly out this far in the woods, putting up with cold and their... unusual companion.</p><p></p><p>As darkness fell on the fourth day, the same routine that had been done for the previous many began. Their ‘friend’ leaned his back against a tree, and began a slight doze while Eyrna and Simeon went to fetch kindling. They let this happen because he would stand watch all night, allowing them to sleep peacefully... in theory.</p><p></p><p>This night, Eyrna had found several fine pieces, not too large or too small, and dry enough that they would light with ease. Carrying them haphazardly, she started back towards the camp.</p><p></p><p>She heard a rustling in the leaves of the forest, a cracking of twigs. The noise wasn’t unusual... Simeon, like her, was most defintely not a woodsman, and always made a racket returning to wherever their campsite was. Eyrna, however, had learned rather early to avoid the more obvious branches... it might be necessary in the future to slip away quietly...</p><p></p><p>Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a dark shape moving rapidly, but when she turned, it had vanished into the growing gloom. Fear coursed through her veins slightly more, and she began to gingerly run back towards the camp, as quickly as possible... only to stop in confusion...</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Simeon stumbled back into the small campsite, breathing heavily. His pile of kindling was high enough he had to peer around it to see ahead, and he was fairly sure that the dark man would complain about his loudness again. </p><p></p><p>Bracing himself, he let the logs drop onto the central pit that had already been dug. His ears heard no complaints, however, and he looked up in surprise.</p><p></p><p>Only to see three dark robes, instead of one... and they were all looking directly at him.</p><p></p><p>He wasn’t sure what part of his mind jumped to the conclusion that something was terribly wrong... it seemed his entire being began to scream warnings to him. Slowly, he started backing away, his hands upraised in a gesture of peace. His mouth started to open, but such an immense and great fear seized him that only gurgles came out.</p><p></p><p>Suddenly, he felt something very cold, and very sharp, prick the midpoint of his back. Immediately the young man stopped, as the familiar long, dark fingers of their companion appeared on his shoulder, gripping it tightly. They spun him around.</p><p></p><p>For the first time, Simeone came face to face with his former traveling companion and guide. His face was sharp, chiseled at angles. The skin, just like his robe, was ebony black, and his large eyes glowed white... with blood red irises. Long, billowing white hair floating down from his head, and brilliant white teeth showed when he gave a sickening smile.</p><p></p><p>“Do not run, Lord Simeon. We have much use for you yet,” his deep voice rumbled. “Lord Vecna, to raise the dead like you have asked, requires a living sacrifice.” His eyes admiringly looked over the young noble’s body. </p><p></p><p>“One of equal stature to the one about to be raised. You’ll do nicely indeed.”</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Eyrna watched in horror from some hundred feet away the unfolding scene. She’d seen her brother backing away from the three dark robed men, only to have three more take him from behind. BY the look on Simeon’s face, the words that were being sad to him were anything but polite introductions. Then she saw the thin gray of a blade being held to his back.</p><p></p><p>Carefully, Eyrna slinked backwards, edging away from the camp for a few hundred more feet, before breaking into a dead run, as fast as her legs would carry her. </p><p></p><p><em>Damn that dark elf!</em> her mind snarled, <em>I knew we could not trust him! ‘His faith shouldn’t be an issue!’</em> she thought of her uncle’s calm reassurance. <em>’He doesn’t believe like the others in his kindA! Our secrets are safe with him!’ Apparently, he felt his secrets were not safe enough with us!</em></p><p></p><p>Her rage at the apparent betrayal did not last long, as hunger and fear took over. Hunger at the lack of food in her body... cold from the fact there was no fire for her to warm by. Fear from what she’d heard about the drow... and bout this forest.</p><p></p><p>There were legends that this forest had carnivorous trees... that the unwary would be eaten alive. Ominously, a gust of wind blew through the forest, causing the branches to creak and groan...</p><p></p><p>She dashed further, running onward.</p><p></p><p>She had heard stories of his kind... a kind that had been dead, exiled for centuries. Save for a few, like him...</p><p></p><p><em>They track well in the dark... night is their element,</em> she remembered as she jumped behind a tree. <em>Six of them!? That would be more than... no... not all of them could have been drow!</em></p><p></p><p>As she took another breather from her mad dash, hiding behind another tree, her blood ran cold, thinking more of this particular drow’s history. Of what happened to his people, and their long-standing quest for revenge.</p><p></p><p>And how House Erelion had just been duped into helping him.</p><p></p><p>Her dash through the woods was entirely too loud, entirely too obvious. She knew this, yet she hoped to see <em>someone</em>, that could spread the warning to her family that they were about to be betrayed.</p><p></p><p>She never saw the dark figures behind her, and had no warning that a slingstone was headed for the back of her head…</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p><em>Half of any battle is not physical... it’s mental,</em> a voice echoed in Valaron’s head. <em>If you win the fight within your mind, you are halfway towards winning the fight with your blade.</em></p><p></p><p>The prince watched with keen interest as the originators of those words stood at the far end of the practice chamber, morning’s light giving their blades a shining glint. The two combatants circled slowly, each watching the other, gauging the other, their eyes never moving away from their quarry. </p><p></p><p>Three blades glinted in the light filtering into the stone room. One was snow white, giltwork running along the center of the blade itself. Another was pitch black, small red flecks along its length indicating that normally it would be wreathed in flames in combat. The third was a cool steel blade, with words carved elegantly into its flanks in red. Normally, it too would be wreathed in flames.</p><p></p><p>The calm before the storm lasted only a moment longer, before a sudden, rapid series of clangs broke the morning silence, a barrage of noise that suddenly assaulted the prince’s ears. Only a moment later, the noise ceased, and both combatants still stared at each other, blades at ready.</p><p></p><p>To the normal eye, the quick, slashing was too fast to catalogue as movement. To Valaron’s trained eyes, the simple elegance of his father’s feints and his mother’s slashes looked like a masterpiece.</p><p></p><p>A split second later, the three blades flashed through the air again, once more at lightning speed. No more than what seemed a second or two later, it was all over. The Emperor’s blade was pinned by Siabrey’s katana to the floor, while her washazaki danced near his throat.</p><p></p><p>“How did I do, Val?” the Empress called, lowering her blade with a grin. “Not bad for someone recovering from a shoulder injury, hm?” Her eyes then turned back to her sparring partner, and she gave him a loving smile. “Fooled you too, didn’t I? Wouldn’t be the first time!”</p><p></p><p>“You’ve always been a better sparring master than me,” Lucius excused himself.</p><p></p><p>“Val, tell your father where he went wrong!” Siabrey laughed, sheathing both of her blades before giving her husband a kiss. “He should’ve...”</p><p></p><p>“...went after you aggressively after his first feints were addressed. He ended at the high guard position, a good place to attack from but a poor place to defend, especially considering he was outnumbered in terms of blades,” Valaron said expertly. “He took the aggressive stance, he should have continued with aggressive tactics.”</p><p></p><p>“Exactly,” Siabrey tweaked her husband’s nose before walking the length of the chamber towards her son. “Said by a true expert,” she grinned, before her eyes took on a more serious look. “I’m still not finished with morning spars... and it seems my current partner is too chicken to continue,” she smirked at Lucius.</p><p></p><p>“The Council meets every morning at this time. I’m an Emperor, as well as swordsman,” Lucius tried to give an excuse. Siabrey’s dismissive wave to him made him laugh. “It’d be more fun to spar you though...”</p><p></p><p>“..Umhm. Whatever excuse suits you!” she flashed him a mischevious look. “Go, before you’re late and Diogenes and Xanadu start complaining!”</p><p></p><p>“Yes, m’lady,” Luke said with a mocking smile before leaving the chamber.</p><p></p><p>“Now,” Siabrey looked to her son, “do you think you can do any better than your father? Beating a woman that’s only a three-fourths strength?” she challenged. It was, after all, her first spar since her shoulder was ravaged nearly five days ago.</p><p></p><p>“Oh, I don’t know,” Val said, looking away from her slightly. </p><p></p><p>Valaron thought he was fast. He tracked her out of the corner of his eye, so that when his own katana and washazaki slashed out of their scabbards, he’d catch her by surprise. A few sharp clangs and clanks later, he found himself staring at the stone ceiling of the armory, the warm hilts of his two blades no longer in his hands.</p><p></p><p>“Good attempt... but your looking away gave away your surprise. Your father tried that tactic many times,” Siabrey extended a hand to her son and pulled him up. “You paused, just before you struck. Remember, your speed of mind is just as important as your speed of blade. Your strength up here,” she pointed to his forehead, “is just as important as your strength here,” she grabbed her arm, before releasing him. “Try again.”</p><p></p><p>Stymied, Valaron drew his blades at sword length from her, and carefully started to circle. His mind watched her movements, her ticks, her slight movements, trying to find an indication of what she was about to do. Something in his mind shouted at him to move, even before he saw her brow crinkle slightly, and as he jumped left, her blades slashed through the air.</p><p></p><p>The duel began renewed, ducking, weaving, swords twirling and dancing through the air. Val let his mind go... yielding conscious control to his instincts, his unconscious, and his blade danced to block hers at every turn. Finally, with a twist and pull, he yanked Kelir, her katana out of her hand. The blade skidded across the floor to the far side of the room.</p><p></p><p>“I think I have you, mom,” Val said with a predatory grin. He had a large katana and washazaki, versus her smaller washazaki alone. “Two blades against one small one...I’d say it’s rather unfair,” he continued to taunt, trying to test her mind. Such was one way to enter your opponent’s mind.</p><p></p><p>Siabrey’s face looked blank, her blade still extended in low guard...only one handed. When Valaron lunged to twist her other blade from her hand, the Empress moved with lightning speed, and Valaron once again found himself looking up at the stone ceiling.</p><p></p><p>“While you talked, I saw your eyes continuing to look at my blade, rather than at me. You told me your target!” she scolded him lightly while pulling him up again. “After that, it was merely a matter of using your own strength and confidence against you. Taunting is a two-edged sword... it can get you in trouble,” she cautioned.</p><p></p><p>“But you taunted Shivalas the assassin, and used his anger to defeat him with a broken blade,” Valaron brought up Siabrey’s own past.</p><p></p><p>“That was a special case,” the Empress said in reply. <em>And I wasn’t in a good state of mind that day,</em> she thought to herself. “Now... you’re fast enough and strong enough Val that you should be beating me regularly... but you haven’t bested me yet. Why is that?”</p><p></p><p>“You have twenty years more experience than I do?”</p><p></p><p>“Yes,” she rolled her eyes at his quip, “and you haven’t grasped this,” she pointed at his forehead again, “yet. When you grasp things up here, you’ll have me. When to strike, when to hold back. When to taunt, when to stare back in silence. What your opponents wants are, his goals, his desires, his methods. All of that,” she said, before giving a pat on the shoulder. “I’m afraid today’s lesson is going to be cut short.”</p><p></p><p>“I know,” Val said rather dejectedly. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the special person arriving at the palace to help. Far from it. He didn’t like the fact his morning sparring with his mom, one of the favorite parts of his day, was being cut short. “Vintressa has been raving about Aunt Tess for the past few days now.”</p><p></p><p>“Val, you look like a sourpuss,” Siabrey noted dryly. “Perhaps Aunt Tess has brought you a rare blade!” she offered, hoping to cheer him up a bit as they left the chambers together. It was exactly the thing their ‘Aunt’ was known to do...</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>“Now... who is this again?” Royukgan asked Vintressa quietly, hoping to distract her from the frown on her face. The constant jokes he’d made about <em>her</em> protecting <em>him</em> over the last three days had at last grown old... a fact she’d sharply told him of only a few moments before.</p><p></p><p>The three of them... himself, Vintressa and Raven were the official greeting part for Lady Baroness Tesseron Keldare, who would be arriving in one of the teleportation chambers in the Imperial palace. They would then take her to more private quarters where her old friends the Emperor and Empress would discuss the current mess with her.</p><p></p><p>“My Aunt Tesseron,” Vintressa replied rather coolly, as he was still in trouble, in her mind. “She, like Uncle Shaun and Aunt Elenya, are not my aunts by blood. I have none of those’ she is a close friend of my parent’s. She is a powerful user of magic, and a wise person.”</p><p></p><p>“A mage? Does she teach at the Academy?” Royukgan asked, not understanding.</p><p></p><p>“No. She is actually a musician. She is just able to use music to tap into the planes of magic, with powerful and devastating results. She traveled with my mother and father many years before... and from what they say, her power was something tremendous to behold,” Vintressa said distantly. “Powerful and wise is how they describe her!”</p><p></p><p>“Such as?” Royukgan pressed. “If she is such a powerful musician, then surely you can give some examples? What did she do, sing to inspire courage in hearts, or sing people into floating above chasms?” the prince laughed slightly.</p><p></p><p>“She made people’s heads explode, quite literally,” Raven said dryly, giving a disapproving look to Royukgan. “She turned people into dust, killed a dragon with her shriek...” Raven’s darkened face turned into a slight grin of superiority at seeing Royukgan’s eyes go wide.</p><p></p><p>“That’s not possible with music!” the prince stammered.</p><p></p><p>“Oh, go ahead and believe that!” Raven twisted the fear a little more. “We haven’t even told you what she did to people with her <em>dagger</em>,” she leaned towards him, eyes wide in a storyteller’s face. </p><p></p><p>“Um... so... I shouldn’t anger her?” he said quietly.</p><p></p><p>“It wouldn’t be smart. But she is really a nice person,” Vintressa added, trying to dissuade the fear Raven had put in his heart. She flashed a quick look to her friend, and shook her head no, before continuing, “She is the one that taught me how to think my way through problems.”</p><p></p><p>Royukgan caught the look between Vintressa and Raven, and by the look on his face, felt it safe to speak his mind. “So you blame her for your bad skills at chess?” he quipped, before throwing up an arm to hide behind.</p><p></p><p>Numerous sharp words came to Vintressa’s mind for a rebuttal, but that was quickly set aside as the middle of the chamber began to glow with light, and a swirling mist billowed from its center. Pulses of magical energy coursed around the circular walls along the outside, as the target arrived.</p><p></p><p>As the mists cleared, a woman clad in rather graceful and elegant robes stepped forth. A crown of blonde hair was braided and wrapped around her head, and while she was still beautiful enough that Royukgan’s jaw dropped, her face showed small, nascent wrinkles, a sigh of her 37 years of human life carrying the weight of her responsibilities... arguably as great as the burden Vintressa’s parents bore.</p><p></p><p>“Aunt Tess!” Vintressa broke from the other two and ran down her favorite ‘relative.’ She caught the tall woman in a great bearhug, causing the bard to stumble slightly.</p><p></p><p>“Oh, Vintressa! I’m afraid if you’d hugged me any harder you might have taken out one of my ribs!” Tess’ melodic voice chuckled. The princess released her grip, and Tess then turned to the other two present. “And Raven... my, you’ve grown since the last time I’ve seen you! How is your mastery of magic working?”</p><p></p><p>“Excellent,” Raven beamed, before bowing. The bard’s eyes then turned to the third face present... one she did not recognize.</p><p></p><p>“I am at a disadvantage, sir. I do not know your name,” she smiled.</p><p></p><p>“This is Prince Han Royukgan, son of the current lord of Han. He was here to study at the Academy, until he was attacked the same night Raven was,” Vintressa explained.</p><p></p><p>“I’m under her protection,” Royukgan grinned at Vintressa, who gave him a scowl.</p><p></p><p>“Ah... well, I daresay there are few hands that are more capable!” Tess smiled at the princess, causing her face to change from a scowl to a smile of thanks... and a slight bit of awe at such a compliment coming from her mentor. As Vintressa’s mouth tried to work to express some thanks, Royukgan gave a slight smirk, and spoke.</p><p></p><p>“Vinny thinks very highly of you, Baroness. She speaks of you as an excellent person, a wise sage, and a capable combatant.”</p><p></p><p>Tess gave a slight smile at seeing her ‘niece’ grow red at the statement, yet part of the bard’s agile mind wrapped around the words the prince had used. <em>Vinny? No one else calls her that normally...</em></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Emperor Valerian, post: 1615370, member: 15043"] The next three days for Eyrna and Simeon passed all too slowly as they trudged through the deep woods to the north of Iskeldrun. Batterner Wood had always been known as a place of secrecy, a place of plots and schemes. Its tangled depths allowed those who wished to talk of dark things to do so in private... if they knew the way in and more importantly, ways back out from the wood’s dark depths. AS each day passed by, it seemed that the trees overhead grew thicker, more gnarled, and more frightening. The underbrush grew thicker, and at times both young nobles coudl swear that it tried to catch them repeatedly, as they often had to unwrap vines and roots from around their ankles. Still they pushed forward, led by the dark man in black, who seemed to expertly navigate the confusing array as if it were his second home. Each night, despite being cold, tired, and frequently hungry, the two siblings slept assured of one thing... their Uncle had recieved their message, and their backup plans were being played out. [i]Even now, Uncle is marshalling the armies at Thuyiden...[/i] she thought quietly. From then on out, things depended on who led the initial imperial attack on the gathering forces... and who answered her uncle’s call. If the nobles of the Empire rose in arms, or even if most of them merely stood aside, House Erelion stood a chance. If most fell on their colleagues, it would be a great slaughter... [i]Which is why we need that stone![/i] she heard her uncle’s voice again. [i]With its power, we can turn the tide of battle![/i] That need was the only reason she was willingly out this far in the woods, putting up with cold and their... unusual companion. As darkness fell on the fourth day, the same routine that had been done for the previous many began. Their ‘friend’ leaned his back against a tree, and began a slight doze while Eyrna and Simeon went to fetch kindling. They let this happen because he would stand watch all night, allowing them to sleep peacefully... in theory. This night, Eyrna had found several fine pieces, not too large or too small, and dry enough that they would light with ease. Carrying them haphazardly, she started back towards the camp. She heard a rustling in the leaves of the forest, a cracking of twigs. The noise wasn’t unusual... Simeon, like her, was most defintely not a woodsman, and always made a racket returning to wherever their campsite was. Eyrna, however, had learned rather early to avoid the more obvious branches... it might be necessary in the future to slip away quietly... Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a dark shape moving rapidly, but when she turned, it had vanished into the growing gloom. Fear coursed through her veins slightly more, and she began to gingerly run back towards the camp, as quickly as possible... only to stop in confusion... Simeon stumbled back into the small campsite, breathing heavily. His pile of kindling was high enough he had to peer around it to see ahead, and he was fairly sure that the dark man would complain about his loudness again. Bracing himself, he let the logs drop onto the central pit that had already been dug. His ears heard no complaints, however, and he looked up in surprise. Only to see three dark robes, instead of one... and they were all looking directly at him. He wasn’t sure what part of his mind jumped to the conclusion that something was terribly wrong... it seemed his entire being began to scream warnings to him. Slowly, he started backing away, his hands upraised in a gesture of peace. His mouth started to open, but such an immense and great fear seized him that only gurgles came out. Suddenly, he felt something very cold, and very sharp, prick the midpoint of his back. Immediately the young man stopped, as the familiar long, dark fingers of their companion appeared on his shoulder, gripping it tightly. They spun him around. For the first time, Simeone came face to face with his former traveling companion and guide. His face was sharp, chiseled at angles. The skin, just like his robe, was ebony black, and his large eyes glowed white... with blood red irises. Long, billowing white hair floating down from his head, and brilliant white teeth showed when he gave a sickening smile. “Do not run, Lord Simeon. We have much use for you yet,” his deep voice rumbled. “Lord Vecna, to raise the dead like you have asked, requires a living sacrifice.” His eyes admiringly looked over the young noble’s body. “One of equal stature to the one about to be raised. You’ll do nicely indeed.” Eyrna watched in horror from some hundred feet away the unfolding scene. She’d seen her brother backing away from the three dark robed men, only to have three more take him from behind. BY the look on Simeon’s face, the words that were being sad to him were anything but polite introductions. Then she saw the thin gray of a blade being held to his back. Carefully, Eyrna slinked backwards, edging away from the camp for a few hundred more feet, before breaking into a dead run, as fast as her legs would carry her. [i]Damn that dark elf![/i] her mind snarled, [i]I knew we could not trust him! ‘His faith shouldn’t be an issue!’[/i] she thought of her uncle’s calm reassurance. [i]’He doesn’t believe like the others in his kindA! Our secrets are safe with him!’ Apparently, he felt his secrets were not safe enough with us![/i] Her rage at the apparent betrayal did not last long, as hunger and fear took over. Hunger at the lack of food in her body... cold from the fact there was no fire for her to warm by. Fear from what she’d heard about the drow... and bout this forest. There were legends that this forest had carnivorous trees... that the unwary would be eaten alive. Ominously, a gust of wind blew through the forest, causing the branches to creak and groan... She dashed further, running onward. She had heard stories of his kind... a kind that had been dead, exiled for centuries. Save for a few, like him... [i]They track well in the dark... night is their element,[/i] she remembered as she jumped behind a tree. [i]Six of them!? That would be more than... no... not all of them could have been drow![/i] As she took another breather from her mad dash, hiding behind another tree, her blood ran cold, thinking more of this particular drow’s history. Of what happened to his people, and their long-standing quest for revenge. And how House Erelion had just been duped into helping him. Her dash through the woods was entirely too loud, entirely too obvious. She knew this, yet she hoped to see [i]someone[/i], that could spread the warning to her family that they were about to be betrayed. She never saw the dark figures behind her, and had no warning that a slingstone was headed for the back of her head… [i]Half of any battle is not physical... it’s mental,[/i] a voice echoed in Valaron’s head. [i]If you win the fight within your mind, you are halfway towards winning the fight with your blade.[/i] The prince watched with keen interest as the originators of those words stood at the far end of the practice chamber, morning’s light giving their blades a shining glint. The two combatants circled slowly, each watching the other, gauging the other, their eyes never moving away from their quarry. Three blades glinted in the light filtering into the stone room. One was snow white, giltwork running along the center of the blade itself. Another was pitch black, small red flecks along its length indicating that normally it would be wreathed in flames in combat. The third was a cool steel blade, with words carved elegantly into its flanks in red. Normally, it too would be wreathed in flames. The calm before the storm lasted only a moment longer, before a sudden, rapid series of clangs broke the morning silence, a barrage of noise that suddenly assaulted the prince’s ears. Only a moment later, the noise ceased, and both combatants still stared at each other, blades at ready. To the normal eye, the quick, slashing was too fast to catalogue as movement. To Valaron’s trained eyes, the simple elegance of his father’s feints and his mother’s slashes looked like a masterpiece. A split second later, the three blades flashed through the air again, once more at lightning speed. No more than what seemed a second or two later, it was all over. The Emperor’s blade was pinned by Siabrey’s katana to the floor, while her washazaki danced near his throat. “How did I do, Val?” the Empress called, lowering her blade with a grin. “Not bad for someone recovering from a shoulder injury, hm?” Her eyes then turned back to her sparring partner, and she gave him a loving smile. “Fooled you too, didn’t I? Wouldn’t be the first time!” “You’ve always been a better sparring master than me,” Lucius excused himself. “Val, tell your father where he went wrong!” Siabrey laughed, sheathing both of her blades before giving her husband a kiss. “He should’ve...” “...went after you aggressively after his first feints were addressed. He ended at the high guard position, a good place to attack from but a poor place to defend, especially considering he was outnumbered in terms of blades,” Valaron said expertly. “He took the aggressive stance, he should have continued with aggressive tactics.” “Exactly,” Siabrey tweaked her husband’s nose before walking the length of the chamber towards her son. “Said by a true expert,” she grinned, before her eyes took on a more serious look. “I’m still not finished with morning spars... and it seems my current partner is too chicken to continue,” she smirked at Lucius. “The Council meets every morning at this time. I’m an Emperor, as well as swordsman,” Lucius tried to give an excuse. Siabrey’s dismissive wave to him made him laugh. “It’d be more fun to spar you though...” “..Umhm. Whatever excuse suits you!” she flashed him a mischevious look. “Go, before you’re late and Diogenes and Xanadu start complaining!” “Yes, m’lady,” Luke said with a mocking smile before leaving the chamber. “Now,” Siabrey looked to her son, “do you think you can do any better than your father? Beating a woman that’s only a three-fourths strength?” she challenged. It was, after all, her first spar since her shoulder was ravaged nearly five days ago. “Oh, I don’t know,” Val said, looking away from her slightly. Valaron thought he was fast. He tracked her out of the corner of his eye, so that when his own katana and washazaki slashed out of their scabbards, he’d catch her by surprise. A few sharp clangs and clanks later, he found himself staring at the stone ceiling of the armory, the warm hilts of his two blades no longer in his hands. “Good attempt... but your looking away gave away your surprise. Your father tried that tactic many times,” Siabrey extended a hand to her son and pulled him up. “You paused, just before you struck. Remember, your speed of mind is just as important as your speed of blade. Your strength up here,” she pointed to his forehead, “is just as important as your strength here,” she grabbed her arm, before releasing him. “Try again.” Stymied, Valaron drew his blades at sword length from her, and carefully started to circle. His mind watched her movements, her ticks, her slight movements, trying to find an indication of what she was about to do. Something in his mind shouted at him to move, even before he saw her brow crinkle slightly, and as he jumped left, her blades slashed through the air. The duel began renewed, ducking, weaving, swords twirling and dancing through the air. Val let his mind go... yielding conscious control to his instincts, his unconscious, and his blade danced to block hers at every turn. Finally, with a twist and pull, he yanked Kelir, her katana out of her hand. The blade skidded across the floor to the far side of the room. “I think I have you, mom,” Val said with a predatory grin. He had a large katana and washazaki, versus her smaller washazaki alone. “Two blades against one small one...I’d say it’s rather unfair,” he continued to taunt, trying to test her mind. Such was one way to enter your opponent’s mind. Siabrey’s face looked blank, her blade still extended in low guard...only one handed. When Valaron lunged to twist her other blade from her hand, the Empress moved with lightning speed, and Valaron once again found himself looking up at the stone ceiling. “While you talked, I saw your eyes continuing to look at my blade, rather than at me. You told me your target!” she scolded him lightly while pulling him up again. “After that, it was merely a matter of using your own strength and confidence against you. Taunting is a two-edged sword... it can get you in trouble,” she cautioned. “But you taunted Shivalas the assassin, and used his anger to defeat him with a broken blade,” Valaron brought up Siabrey’s own past. “That was a special case,” the Empress said in reply. [i]And I wasn’t in a good state of mind that day,[/i] she thought to herself. “Now... you’re fast enough and strong enough Val that you should be beating me regularly... but you haven’t bested me yet. Why is that?” “You have twenty years more experience than I do?” “Yes,” she rolled her eyes at his quip, “and you haven’t grasped this,” she pointed at his forehead again, “yet. When you grasp things up here, you’ll have me. When to strike, when to hold back. When to taunt, when to stare back in silence. What your opponents wants are, his goals, his desires, his methods. All of that,” she said, before giving a pat on the shoulder. “I’m afraid today’s lesson is going to be cut short.” “I know,” Val said rather dejectedly. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the special person arriving at the palace to help. Far from it. He didn’t like the fact his morning sparring with his mom, one of the favorite parts of his day, was being cut short. “Vintressa has been raving about Aunt Tess for the past few days now.” “Val, you look like a sourpuss,” Siabrey noted dryly. “Perhaps Aunt Tess has brought you a rare blade!” she offered, hoping to cheer him up a bit as they left the chambers together. It was exactly the thing their ‘Aunt’ was known to do... “Now... who is this again?” Royukgan asked Vintressa quietly, hoping to distract her from the frown on her face. The constant jokes he’d made about [i]her[/i] protecting [i]him[/i] over the last three days had at last grown old... a fact she’d sharply told him of only a few moments before. The three of them... himself, Vintressa and Raven were the official greeting part for Lady Baroness Tesseron Keldare, who would be arriving in one of the teleportation chambers in the Imperial palace. They would then take her to more private quarters where her old friends the Emperor and Empress would discuss the current mess with her. “My Aunt Tesseron,” Vintressa replied rather coolly, as he was still in trouble, in her mind. “She, like Uncle Shaun and Aunt Elenya, are not my aunts by blood. I have none of those’ she is a close friend of my parent’s. She is a powerful user of magic, and a wise person.” “A mage? Does she teach at the Academy?” Royukgan asked, not understanding. “No. She is actually a musician. She is just able to use music to tap into the planes of magic, with powerful and devastating results. She traveled with my mother and father many years before... and from what they say, her power was something tremendous to behold,” Vintressa said distantly. “Powerful and wise is how they describe her!” “Such as?” Royukgan pressed. “If she is such a powerful musician, then surely you can give some examples? What did she do, sing to inspire courage in hearts, or sing people into floating above chasms?” the prince laughed slightly. “She made people’s heads explode, quite literally,” Raven said dryly, giving a disapproving look to Royukgan. “She turned people into dust, killed a dragon with her shriek...” Raven’s darkened face turned into a slight grin of superiority at seeing Royukgan’s eyes go wide. “That’s not possible with music!” the prince stammered. “Oh, go ahead and believe that!” Raven twisted the fear a little more. “We haven’t even told you what she did to people with her [i]dagger[/i],” she leaned towards him, eyes wide in a storyteller’s face. “Um... so... I shouldn’t anger her?” he said quietly. “It wouldn’t be smart. But she is really a nice person,” Vintressa added, trying to dissuade the fear Raven had put in his heart. She flashed a quick look to her friend, and shook her head no, before continuing, “She is the one that taught me how to think my way through problems.” Royukgan caught the look between Vintressa and Raven, and by the look on his face, felt it safe to speak his mind. “So you blame her for your bad skills at chess?” he quipped, before throwing up an arm to hide behind. Numerous sharp words came to Vintressa’s mind for a rebuttal, but that was quickly set aside as the middle of the chamber began to glow with light, and a swirling mist billowed from its center. Pulses of magical energy coursed around the circular walls along the outside, as the target arrived. As the mists cleared, a woman clad in rather graceful and elegant robes stepped forth. A crown of blonde hair was braided and wrapped around her head, and while she was still beautiful enough that Royukgan’s jaw dropped, her face showed small, nascent wrinkles, a sigh of her 37 years of human life carrying the weight of her responsibilities... arguably as great as the burden Vintressa’s parents bore. “Aunt Tess!” Vintressa broke from the other two and ran down her favorite ‘relative.’ She caught the tall woman in a great bearhug, causing the bard to stumble slightly. “Oh, Vintressa! I’m afraid if you’d hugged me any harder you might have taken out one of my ribs!” Tess’ melodic voice chuckled. The princess released her grip, and Tess then turned to the other two present. “And Raven... my, you’ve grown since the last time I’ve seen you! How is your mastery of magic working?” “Excellent,” Raven beamed, before bowing. The bard’s eyes then turned to the third face present... one she did not recognize. “I am at a disadvantage, sir. I do not know your name,” she smiled. “This is Prince Han Royukgan, son of the current lord of Han. He was here to study at the Academy, until he was attacked the same night Raven was,” Vintressa explained. “I’m under her protection,” Royukgan grinned at Vintressa, who gave him a scowl. “Ah... well, I daresay there are few hands that are more capable!” Tess smiled at the princess, causing her face to change from a scowl to a smile of thanks... and a slight bit of awe at such a compliment coming from her mentor. As Vintressa’s mouth tried to work to express some thanks, Royukgan gave a slight smirk, and spoke. “Vinny thinks very highly of you, Baroness. She speaks of you as an excellent person, a wise sage, and a capable combatant.” Tess gave a slight smile at seeing her ‘niece’ grow red at the statement, yet part of the bard’s agile mind wrapped around the words the prince had used. [i]Vinny? No one else calls her that normally...[/i] [/QUOTE]
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