(Repost)Ooc: My promised 'beating' thread'. Figure we can drop the old thread as both of us are bored with it anyways...

 

 

It was with easy resolve that Cairma had decided to make today a living nightmare for her favoured Trainee. He had shown the most potention and the least amount of discipline and yet still did better than the rest, thus far. Waking up the boy at an ungodly hour, she had the boy following her as they trecked their way out of the White Tower gates, down a few roads and into the Grove only south of the Tower. They settled in the same clearing in the Grove that she often took him for sword training.

 

"When you first started here, I spoke of Disciplines, Paths, Ideals in which a man or Woman used to guide their sword. What I did not tell you were the Disciplines of the past, ones that were taught when I first arrived at the Tower. The Yard has changed over recent years and the Old Disciplines have faded to legends that are whispered amoung seasoned warriors. Few of the new recruits know of them, and None of the other will teach them.

 

"My mentor was Master Daemon Ronshor Gaidin, Grandmaster of the Ren'shai. He was the last to train someone in his art, and he no longer teaches it since his last student. It was an Art that broke the body and the mind, forming both into a formidable weapon that would not cower at a hit but instead one that Masters the Ren'Shai art becomes the weapon.

 

"I was the last trained, and now offer to teach this art to you. This next lesson will break you. But by breaking it will also do another more improtant thing. It will push your limits to the maximum of which it can go, so one day, when you pass it, you will survive. This class will also teach you how to turn crippling factors such as pain and injury into further boost in the fight. But to master this you must remember one thing - the natural human reaction is to fight pain,or deny it compleatly. But if you try this in this class it will not work. The key to it is not to fight it but to accept it. Embrace it, and channel it into your fighting spirit much in te way you channel your emotions into the Flame when you are assuming the Void. Once channeled the pain is transformed into usefull battlefield emotions,such as anger or determination. And those will keep you going in a fight, that I can tell you from personal experience. I must warn you that during this class you will reguraly visit the Infirmary. Are you willing to accept?"

 

 

Cairma Vishnu

Tower Guard

 

 

Then knock on the door to the spare room he had finally crashed in jolted him awake. It had been curt, loud and simple, he knew that Cairma would not be happy if he kept her waiting. Glancing out the window as he reluctantly pulled himself from the warm embrace of the down comforter, Fior saw that the sky was grey with the light of false dawn. A soft curse left his lips as he stuffed his still stockinged feet into his winter boots. He had only managed to get an hour or two of sleep, and something told him that Cairma wasn't here to just talk.

 

The sight of the slightly built, blond woman didn't surprise as he pulled the door open. Likewise, her no-nonsense look merely confirmed what he already suspected. Whatever she was waking him for at this god-awful hour, he wouldn't enjoy it, especially not after the events of the previous day. He forced the image of her slipping beneath the ice to the back of his head and made a half-hearted attempt to stifle a yawn. Forcing himself to stand straight and at attention, he waited for his mentor to speak.

 

She didn't. Instead she locked eyes with him for a moment, giving him a look that he knew had withered much braver men than he. Then, with a short nod of approval, she turned to her right, and began walking away. He stood, confused for a few moments, before pulling the door shut behind him and rushing to catch up with her. She was deceptively fast for her height.

 

Falling in behind her, Fior wished she would say something to him as they marched rhythmically through the dead silence of the Yards. But despite her decision to not report yesterday's fiasco, he knew that he had let her down, and so he endured the silence with as much dignity as he could muster.

 

Their stoicism carried them clear of the yards, and down the abandoned Tar Valon streets as to the Ogier grove where they had trained together so many times before. The clearing that he had come to know so well over the last year was eerily quiet in the cold grey of the winter morning. The birds had all long since left for warmer climes, and the soft green grass was now dead and the soft crunching of snow beneath their boots was the only sound he could hear. That is, of course, until she spoke.

 

Fior thought carefully on her words as he listened. In truth he was surprised at what she was telling him, though it held true with everything he had expected of the morning. He had never shied away from something before, regardless of the pain it might promise. But beyond that, he desperately wanted to be the best warrior he could be. And if this path would make him a weapon, then a weapon he would become.

 

Straightening his back, he squared his shoulders and met his mentor's beautiful eyes with his own. "Yes, ma'am. I am willing."

 

Fior

In Over His Head

 

So he was ready? As much as she did not enjoy this sort of training, the paths the boy was taking was enough to push him past the breaking point. Read or not, the boy was about to receive a beating like no other, stretched over time for maximum achievement.

 

Light, she hoped he was ready.

 

"It will be much like a regular day for you. You will go through your forms as I have taught you as I watch. At a time which I pick I will strike at you, each time the strikes will get stronger and stronger. You must keep on doing the forms no matter where or how hard I strike."

 

"Now since you are ready, let us begin."

 

Fior nodded as she finished speaking and picked up one of the practice lathes. Tugging on the Void like a warm jacket, he settled into Lion on the Hill. Then he began.

 

He started simply. A few test slashes at an imaginary opponent, followed quickly by Arc of the Moon, meant to either decapitate his foe, or test his resolve. Hummingbird kisses the Honey Rose came next, catching yet another imaginary foe in the face. He immediately turned that into The Kingfisher Takes a Silverback stooping low to strke at the knee, crippling his opponent before dropping easily into Leaf Floating in the Breeze.

 

With his lathe now held horizontally at his waist, he immediately lept into Lightning of Three Prongs. Slashing to the left partway through the thrust, he dipped his blade and gracefully entered Low Wind Rising, slicing this invisible adversary from hip to ear. He then settled calmly back into the basic guard stance. Next he lead off with Bundling Straw, but through the calm of the Void he could feel the nervous sweat drenching his torso as his arm flashed forward through the cold morning air.

 

A thought skittered across the surface of the Void as he arced his blade into Courtier Taps His Fan, causing him to momentarily lose his concentration.

 

Will she never strike?

 

In that moment, she did.

 

Biding her time, she watched him carefully with a trained eye as he moved through the forms. He was good, better than she expected for someone who was lacking sleep. It would serve him well, but not today. It will hinder his very being as she would do what she must to make him stronger. There is no such thing as a Seasoned Warrior that can not take a hit. If Fior can take a hit and keep going, using that energy...

 

Her lathe struck him in the movement of one of his forms, possibly bruising the side of his hip. Fior winced inwardly and redoubled his hold on the Void as her lathe bounced off of his thigh. He could sense the pain, but he held his focus on the cold flame in his mind and did his best to ignore the strike. Finishing his form, he proceeded into Tower of Morning. Cairma waited again until he had turned and then struck him in the stomach.

 

Even though he saw the second strike coming, there was nothing he could do to stop it. She had waited until after he had commited to his upward strike before swinging her lathe forcefully into his lower abdomen.

 

Fortunately, she had trained him well, so the strike landed in mid exhale, and he was not winded, though his abs began to throb with pain the moment she had finished the strike. Checking that he still had a firm hold on the Void, he shifted into the next form, a chain of Parting the Silk and The Swallow Takes Flight, twisting his arm after the downward strike and turning to strike up at a second opponent.

 

Cairma's blade hit him again, catching him winded and causing him to moan. Her hits grew harder after each him, until her last caught his elbow, breaking the bones and causing Fior to drop his sword. Looking down on Fior, her eys still unchanging despite her inner termoil of watching him wraith in pain. There had been one point where she would have revelled and loved to see pain in the eyes of the one at the point of her blade. The Void brought out the worst in her, everytime she brought it forth. But as she gazed down at him, she knew this was no longer a game. Or a training session. If Fior did not pass the tests that she herself had passed, he would not survive to the Red Cape. He would not become a Tower Guard. And he would be burried 6-feet under.

 

"Get up and take yourself to the Infirmary in the Tower. You will return here in 3 days. We will repeate this process only next time you will not be allowed the Void to keep your emotions at bay."

 

 

 

 

Cairma Vishnu

Ren'Shai GrandMaster

 

&

 

Fior

Trainee