Jayce finally had enough with his teacher, his clambered to his feet as quickly as he could, and shambled forward, allowing adrenaline to surge through his body. Swiftly, he twisted his body, projecting the sword forwards at his trainer. 'Clang', the sword smashed against the shield, and Jayce brought it round from the other side for another strike. 'Ting', once again the sword crashed against the shield. Jayce was furious, and not ready to give in, he realised that he could stop the trainer from attacking him if he kept the pressure up, so he whirled to and fro with the sword, in a mass of 'clang's and 'ting's.
Eventually, without much attrition on the trainer, Jayce struggled to breath. He could barely hold his sword, now, and he lifted a leg slowly at an attempt to kick the instructor backwards. There was a loud 'thud', followed by a scream, it wasn't the old man, however. What had happened, was the hooded figure waited until Jayce's leg was extended, before bringing the point of the shield down on it with his full force.
Soon, Jayce's leg was bloodied, and he grasped at it through the banded mail greaves.
"No, you shouldn't have attacked so unskillfully!" Jayce was betrayed by all he knew, attrition techniques had worked for him before, in duels with friends, and his previous tutor taught him nothing of dealing with shields.
"Listen to me, you decrepit fiend! I can't get around your damned shield, and you fail to tire no matter how ruthless I become! If this is some magic, then undo it, it's not fair!" He sighed, and laid down on his back, allowing the blood to trickle down his leg.
The old man knelt down beside him, bringing a hand to the young fighter's shin, "Listen, life isn't fair, it's the most unfair thing about being alive, if that makes sense." He stopped, while he removed the armour from Jayce's wound, "Unfortunately for you, this is fair, I have a shield, you have a sword, we should be evenly matched."
It took the young man a little while to process the information, before realising that it didn't really help the situation. 'Sir' Asher watched as the crooked person tended his wound slightly. "I don't understand, mister, I've never fought a person with a shield before."
"You're keen with a sword, I've seen your reflexes, they're fast, and you curl your blade well, with great strength behind each strike. In fact, I'd say there's little I can teach you about actually using the sword, but there's more to a fight than just a decade of swords training." The old man grasped Jayce's hand and lifted him, with a strength that seemed unrealistic for the person's figure.
"Expertise in this field comes from a wide range of skills, all contributing to benefit the intentions of the person harnessing those skills," he continued, "If you want to learn how to cook a pie from scratch, it's all very well knowing what ingredients to use and even what to do with them, what really makes the pie taste delicious, is giving it its own unique flavour, that stands it out from the other pies!"
"How can this flavour be achieved, you ask? There are many ways to change the flavour of a pie, without altering the ingredients very much at all. You know that if you cook a chicken too long, the flesh chars, and is of no use. You understand that a cows' milk can be processed to make fine cheeses. It's about the method, Jayce, and your method needs updating!" With this, he knelt and attached the fighter's greaves once more. "For starters, you must learn the 4 rights of passage!"
He got to his feet, and they both stood, with light smiles on their faces, a metre or so apart. "You can go through, over, beneath or around any object, Jayce, those are the 4 rights of passage," he started, gesturing each direction with his hand, "Each right of passage must be available to a person to give him complete control over a situation. At the moment, you have a decent understanding of this, as I've seen in the way you maneuver. What you do lack, however, is awareness of your body."
Jayce looked confused now, he had always thought of himself as having decent self awareness, in fights, that is. "Yes, yes, I'm talking of course about acrobatics!" 'Uh-oh', Jayce thought. There has never been a time where he had enjoyed gymnastics. His father had a maid try to teach him, in order to make for better posture and less clumsy mistakes. Every time she'd give him a lesson, he'd tantrum or refuse to participate, so after a while the lessons stopped. It's not like Jayce was particularly inflexible, he just really disliked pressuring his body to move.
"Yes, young man, acrobatics will be the difference between your fighting, and the fighting of the men you will fight! I want to start with your position, young man!" He gestured to Jayce's legs and moved them accordingly. "Swing to the left, quickly," and Jayce conformed, allowing his blade to flutter through the air, "Good, now the right," and Jayce again did as the trainer asked, this time, the blade soared just as easily as it did to the left, "You see how your arm now, is well out of the way of your blade, and you can be less aware of it when you fight. It's easier for your to move and deflect blows, this is balance, and it will aid in kinematics, too."
There was a lack of understanding apparent on Jayce's face, the old man started, "You, have heard of the five acrobatic disciplines, haven't you?" When Jayce shook his head, the old man gave a loud and pronounced, long sigh.
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