17th of Spring, AV 513
Leth smiled upon the city, the night alive within the sparkling scene. Lu enjoyed the night, as it was his time to train. Besides the aesthetic pleasures, training at night made fighting under Syna much easier. The young Shinya lived for training. He felt as if he could always learn and improve, to become a defending hand of his Patroness, the Lady of Stars. Tonight the current incursion of Zith was on his mind. The peaks were defensible but the strongest points of attack for the flying beasts were the spans between the peaks, where they could descend and pick off the non flying populace.
Standing at the beginning of the span at the home side of Shinyama, Lu held a staff in his right hand, a short sword tucked into his sash at his waist. Placing the staff at his feet, he began to stretch his body, preparing for a long and satisfying workout. Rolling at his waist, the fluid stretching motions moved like water , his legs extending and rotating, the tide flowing up to his torso and his arms, muscles flexing and relaxing. Citizens walked across the span often, as night brought debauchery and many enjoyed such at the Star's Shadow on his current side. His palms placed together, he bowed to the bridge, which contained his thanks to Zintila and to Wysar, his hope for Her literal support and His continued focus.
Eyes opening, he imagined Zith divebombing and circling above, his mind's eye a practiced form of imaginative media, thanks to constant meditation. Lu slid his right foot beneath the staff, kicking it up, his right hand grasping it firmly. His left hand began to thrust out in rapid succession, the staff used as a vertical barrier between himself and invisible danger. Using the point between the bridge's walls and its floor as an anchor, he dodged and weaved around it, punches flying. Moving a step at a time, he would place the staff diagonally with the right and punch with the left, switch hands and angles, using the right. Moving in this repetitive motion across the span, the rushing of the Amaranthine far below pushed him onward.
Forms and fighting only became fluid with endless repetition. The body and mind had to move effortlessly so that the consciousness could remain aware of its surroundings, constantly moving and adapting to each new threat. An entire crossing of the current movements continued until he reached the Sharai peak, sweat a fine layer over his body. A shrill cackle of citizens moving across the bridge made Lu imagine a scream of a person being carried off. Turning on his heel, he took the staff in two hands, pushing it out at each end, dropping it on the wall edges and picking it back up, turning it vertical and pushing it forward. Vertical, horizontal as he worked back across.
Leth smiled upon the city, the night alive within the sparkling scene. Lu enjoyed the night, as it was his time to train. Besides the aesthetic pleasures, training at night made fighting under Syna much easier. The young Shinya lived for training. He felt as if he could always learn and improve, to become a defending hand of his Patroness, the Lady of Stars. Tonight the current incursion of Zith was on his mind. The peaks were defensible but the strongest points of attack for the flying beasts were the spans between the peaks, where they could descend and pick off the non flying populace.
Standing at the beginning of the span at the home side of Shinyama, Lu held a staff in his right hand, a short sword tucked into his sash at his waist. Placing the staff at his feet, he began to stretch his body, preparing for a long and satisfying workout. Rolling at his waist, the fluid stretching motions moved like water , his legs extending and rotating, the tide flowing up to his torso and his arms, muscles flexing and relaxing. Citizens walked across the span often, as night brought debauchery and many enjoyed such at the Star's Shadow on his current side. His palms placed together, he bowed to the bridge, which contained his thanks to Zintila and to Wysar, his hope for Her literal support and His continued focus.
Eyes opening, he imagined Zith divebombing and circling above, his mind's eye a practiced form of imaginative media, thanks to constant meditation. Lu slid his right foot beneath the staff, kicking it up, his right hand grasping it firmly. His left hand began to thrust out in rapid succession, the staff used as a vertical barrier between himself and invisible danger. Using the point between the bridge's walls and its floor as an anchor, he dodged and weaved around it, punches flying. Moving a step at a time, he would place the staff diagonally with the right and punch with the left, switch hands and angles, using the right. Moving in this repetitive motion across the span, the rushing of the Amaranthine far below pushed him onward.
Forms and fighting only became fluid with endless repetition. The body and mind had to move effortlessly so that the consciousness could remain aware of its surroundings, constantly moving and adapting to each new threat. An entire crossing of the current movements continued until he reached the Sharai peak, sweat a fine layer over his body. A shrill cackle of citizens moving across the bridge made Lu imagine a scream of a person being carried off. Turning on his heel, he took the staff in two hands, pushing it out at each end, dropping it on the wall edges and picking it back up, turning it vertical and pushing it forward. Vertical, horizontal as he worked back across.
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