The sword crashed down onto her helm, a flash of white and the coppery taste of pain filling her mouth. Ero rolled back, trying to clear her vision and gain a moment to clear her vision. She backpedaled and struck out blindly with the heavy twisted knife she held, hoping to fend off any attack that may be coming. As her vision cleared, she realized the helm had been bent out of shape so that it obscured her vision. She quickly clawed it off, as it offered no protection to her now. With a growl she leapt forward, a reckless attack, but pulled up short, having drawn the expected attack. With a grin she struck forward into her opponent’s belly, knowing that if she connected, the jagged edge of her wooden knife would end this. Her triumphant feelings ended abruptly as an unexpected elbow was placed before her face. It grew rapidly until it filled her whole vision, and struck with enough force to knock her senseless.
Ero returned to consciousness with a painful start. Someone was poking her in the stomach with something hard, telling her to do something. She tried to bat it away, and murmured to be left alone, but the poking just got harder, the voice more insistent. “Get up girl, I’ve seen rabbits take hits harder than that.” said the voice. Suddenly the point in her stomach moved up and stuck her in her unprotected armpit, a spark of pain jolting her back to reality. “Get. Up. Now.” it was her uncle, and she had just failed to land a single blow on him for the third bout in a row. She could tell he was growing frustrated, as he usually didn’t knock her senseless unless he felt she was being stupid.
She was training with her uncle. Less than a month earlier she had returned victorious from her Rite of Passage with the other boys her age, and had been met with celebration and congratulations. After a feast of celebration and several nights in which she was free to do as she wished (which happened to be a particularly attractive peer of hers who she found entertaining,) her uncle had announced to her that she would begin training to learn how to correctly wield a Lakan. She remembered being excited at first, eager to learn a new skill.
Now here she was, laying on the floor of the practice room with her uncle glaring at her, growing more and more impatient. She grimaced and sat up, trying to move quickly while at the same time keep her head still. She had a splitting headache, and could feel a bruise forming over her right eye. She stood, and took a deep breath, trying to keep the world from tilting her off her feet. “What did you do wrong this time?” he asked, as he always did whenever he floored her.
“Your reach is longer than mine, and you are faster than me,” she said, a little frustrated. She was careful to guard her tone of voice and speak with respect. Her uncle had taught her at a young age that disrespect would be beaten out of her, and she doubted that anything had changed. “I don‘t understand how I‘m supposed to use a shorter blade against you if you have every advantage.” she said carefully. She was honestly puzzled. Her uncle was an expert weapons master. She had only ever landed a blow on him out of luck, and she always left their training sessions battered and bruised.
“No, you are too reckless, and rely on your instinct too much. You have natural talent in short blades, but you must learn skill as well. You are still too wild, and lack precision.” He said without malice of condescension. He was simply stating the truth. She took a steadying breath, and nodded. He was right of course, but she still didn’t see how she could prevail against an opponent who was stronger and faster than her, AND had a longer reach. She asked about this, and was immediately forced to parry a thrust from her uncle’s wooden sword. “Think! Don’t just act and react, wait for the opening and strike with precision!” he shouted, a thrust or swing punctuating each pause.
Ero ducked and dodged, parrying when necessary. She watched for an opening, but couldn’t pass the larger Akalak’s guard. He wove an impenetrable web of blurring wood before her, and any attack she launched was repelled or riposted. She could not find the opening her uncle had told her was present. Suddenly he had caught her knife on the cross brace of his training sword and leaned into her face. “What is the first thing I taught you about fighting at a disadvantage? Have you already forgotten the basics of combat?” He twisted and threw her back, spinning in a graceful pirouette that left him outside of her reach. She thought back to that lesson. He had told her that if she had no advantage, her only choices were to flee, or change the fight.
The memory sparked an idea. She couldn’t simply slip past his guard and get inside his reach, his guard was too good. On top of that, even if she could somehow slip past it, in-fighting with her uncle was a quick ticket to pain and defeat. Instead she feinted another reckless attack, letting out a sigh of frustration as if she had given up. Instead of following through with the feint though, she met the parry she knew was coming, disengaged, and stepped back. With a graceful twirl, she flung the wooden dagger at her uncle’s face. Despite the unexpectedness of the attack, he was able to bring up his sword and bat the knife from the air. However, this left his midsection open, and he was unable to block the kick she aimed at his stomach. The air was forced from his lungs with a great “WOOOHF” and he staggered back as she swept the fallen wooden knife of the ground. She darted forward press the knife across his throat, a sign of victory. Unfortunately for Ero, her uncle had recovered quicker than she’d expected and struck the knife from her hand with the pommel of the practice sword. With a quick flick, he thwacked the flat of the blade against the side of her head hard enough to send her to the floor again, but without the crippling force he could have struck with.
“Not bad, Ero.” he said thoughtfully, “You still rushed in far too quickly, but you’ve got the right idea.” He straightened up and let her retrieve the wooden knife and get her bearings. When the stars cleared from her vision, she thought she saw the faintest vestiges of a smile on the huge man’s face. This was the first time she had landed a blow on him since she had become disciplined enough to suppress her dark sister while fighting. She almost shuddered at the memory of what it had been like before. It was a moment of triumph, both for her, in that she was growing in skill, and her uncle, in that he was capable of imparting such discipline and skill to a student so young. He nodded to her, and sheathed the wooden sword through a loop in his belt. “Let us break for water.” he turned and departed towards a fountain nearby that was kept clean for this purpose.
After they had both partaken of the ice cold water and were suitably refreshed, Ero‘s uncle called her back to the practice area. Her uncle turned and addressed her. “Now we are going to work on your defense. I know you have been taught to deflect and dodge. With the twisted blade of the Lakan, the focus is going to more on dodging. Any attempt at deflections must be made with absolute precision and speed, as the twists in the blade may catch that of your opponent. You may find it more useful to deflect the arm rather than the weapon. ” He referred to a hand to hand combat technique that had been adapted to weapons in which one combatant would block or deflect her opponent’s wrist or arm rather than blade.
With that, he began running Ero through weapon drills and teaching her how to judge when she could actually deflect with a Lakan instead of simply dodging. These drills included how she should intercept the blade as close to the hand guard as possible to rob the strike of it’s leverage, and how to slap the point of the blade off target in mid swing. These tactics were customary in the use of long blades as well, but the application of such with a Lakan was different enough that Ero’s uncle felt it necessary for her to drill on them.
Night fell, but was ignored as the two dark skinned warriors squared up for the final sparring match of the day. With a nod, Ero’s uncle signaled the beginning of the fight, Ero armed with the wooden training Lakan, and he with a single wooden training sword. They circled, exchanging parries and ripostes with similar precision and skill (or so it seemed to Ero.) She kept her weight centered, always ready to spring back in case her opponent decided to launch an attack. The two continued to circle, each looking for an opening, until Ero decided that the time for caution had passed. She set her feet, and crouched, feigning the beginnings of a leaping attack. Her opponent’s eyes hardened slightly, and stepped into her range, where she would not have time to extend an attack if she leapt. With a nod, she rolled back over her left shoulder, and sprang past her opponent. He swung once, but aborted the attack, realizing that it would not connect, and stepped forward to put a knee into Ero’s face before she could stand.
Despite the dizzying roll and disorienting spring maneuver she had performed, Ero was able to keep her balance and anticipated the incoming knee, dodging past it and springing straight up past the big man’s sword. She dragged the tip of the semi-blunt blade up his flank, unable to align it in time for a better strike. Had it been a real knife, it would have torn open her opponent’s side and bared his ribs; a heavy wound for sure, but nothing that would stop a fight. Her opponent jerked in surprise, spinning away from the sudden attack and extending his sword arm. Ero tried to imitate the move and get out of the way of the incoming wooden blade, but didn’t quite make it. The end of the sword struck just below her shoulder with considerable force, hard enough to numb her arm, making it useless. She had no doubt that had this been a real fight she would be missing an arm and have a sword buried in her chest, but her uncle gave her no sign of letting up, so she returned to her guard with one arm, hoping that this match would end soon.
Seeing that she didn’t have the use of her right arm, the large man pressed his attack, leading with short chops and fast jabs, aiming to wear her out. It was working; she could only dodge and bat aside so many blows, and the practice sword slipped through to jab her ribs lightly or clack against her forearm. With a final burst of energy, she launched a furious attack, spinning and kicking and lashing out with as much precision and power as she could muster. Still, nothing got through her enemies’ guard, and the attacks showed no sign of abating. She parried and dodged, deflecting and ducking, but more and more attacks began to connect. Ero grew frantic as she felt the lightheaded swooning feeling that was a prelude to the nightmare of Sesim in control. Ero backpedaled, desperate to get away from this wild, relentless attack, and pushed back against the feeling. The girl screwed her eyes shut, trying to shut out the influences of the fight, trying to keep Sesim away, all the while the wooden sword continued to jab into her and beat on her.
Except, with a sudden icy realization as she managed to lever one eye open, nothing was hitting her anymore. Her uncle had stepped back and lowered his sword. She attempted to do the same, but felt like someone was pounding wildly on her skull, her ears were ringing with screams of rage only she could hear. The final moments of the fight for control stretched into infinity, till finally a psychotic scream filled her head, and Ero collapsed into darkness.
The next morning, Ero awoke to something deliciously hot and steaming being set down next to her on the floor. She stretched, moaning in pain as the muscles that had been pushed so hard had knotted themselves up. She slowly peeled her eyes open, and looked upon a huge slice of ham, a whole loaf of bread, and a pitcher of clear water before her. She looked up and realized that it was midmorning, and her uncle was standing over her. She tried to clear her head, unsure of what was going on, what had happened the night before. She looked back up at her uncle. “What happened last night? Did Sesim break loose? What…” she trailed off, clutching her stomach as hunger bit down on her stomach.
“Go ahead and eat, Ero. This is all for you.” said her uncle. “In answer to your question, no, Sesim did not go on a rampage last night. That was rather the point of the training. While in combat, you may be pressed unto defeat, but if you are fighting with your Lakan, you must ever maintain balance. What you have achieved so far is admirable, but you must come to an understanding with your dark sister. Suppression will only make her that much more wild when you lose control next time. Instead, you must figure out a way to work with her. Only through balance and discipline will you be able to fight with unparalleled ability. Only through balance and discipline will you be in control of your own fate. That is why I pushed you to exhaustion, why you are not going to be doing any more combat until you can demonstrate some degree of this balance.”
Ero’s eyes fell. She had failed. She was not skilled enough to continue training. She sighed and continued to eat, but looked up again as her uncle began laughing. ”You silly girl. This is not a punishment! You are ready for this next level of training. You have mastered what you have learned so far, and must learn to master yourself. Besides, you will not be able to fight for many weeks in any case. Your arm is broken, if I am any judge, and in your fight against Sesim, you most likely strained many of your muscles. Think of this as a period of healing, meditation, and growth. You have done well”
end
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by Ero on September 28th, 2010, 1:52 pm 
