[Flashback][Training]First Things First

[Wystern]

Time Stamp: 3rd of Spring, 504 AV. Puprose: Unarmed combat training. Expanding the past.

Wystern's world was spinning around, casually regaining the control of itself. A flash of light, tinted of crimson, struck the boy. He was in a fighting ring, fighting another page as an exercise and training. For a load of pampered little brats, they seemed to put up more of a fight than the twerps back at Sunberth, but then again, he didn't happen to have a knife. Gravity reminded Wys to stop recollecting at this specific moment. There indeed was a small crowd surrounding the ring, mostly for supervision, and making sure neither fighter would go too far. "Get your head out of your ass, and get back in the game!" Jacob yelled. The old bastard's right, what the flying shyke was Wys doing? He started to feel a second wind coming. The world finally stopped flying, and the light was replaced by incoming fist. "Sonova..." Wys exclaimed, ducking to avoid a hit. The miss left an opening, and Wystern took it. He sprang with all his might, driving his right shoulder deep into the gut of his opponent. The boys flew for for a second that seemed like an eternity, and landed on tackled page's back. Kodan was his name, or something like that. He spit out blood, but there was already plenty of blood on the both of them. Wystern's gums were sore, blood was filling his mouth, his lip was busted, his ribs ached, but miraculously his nose was unharmed. "Atta Boy!" Wys heard again from the crowd, Kodan's master was yelling something entirely opposite.Wys was on top now, and he just started throwing a punch after a punch after a punch at Kodan's chest and chin. That's when the latter finally threw a punch that landed square into Wystern's face. Yep, there goes the nose. Crow got up and stepped away, shaking off the pain. His nose wasn't broken, but he wasn't quite sure at this point. Wys regained his footing, just as Kodan did in front of him. Wys sprinted from the spot,going low, for another tackle, meeting a knee. He couldn't get to the torso, but by an instinct, he just grabbed Kodan's legs and tried to do the same thing he did a couple of minutes ago. There was no flying this time, but there was a hard hit on the ground. Wys couldn't understand what anyone was saying anymore, the crowd seemed like a roaring beast, and he almost saw vultures circling above the pair. Kodan was moaning in the pain of the fall. It could be worse, grass was beneath them. It felt a little cold. Newsflash, this isn't over. Wys scrambled over to his fallen opponent, punched him in the gut, roughly turned him around and put him in the choke-hold. That was probably the most evil thing Wys could do at this moment, but moves like this stopped fights, period. Kodan elbowed his opponent in the gut, Wys coughed. When in the hell is the damn ref going to call this exercise over? Kodan finally tapped out, Wys let go, spit out some blood, and slowly began to crawl towards the ring, not particularly caring for the judgment call. He had enough of this shyke to last a week. Jacob hopped over the fence and dragged Wys to his feet. "Crow, you alive?" his master said, proceeding a by few finger snaps. "I'm fine, and please don't mind me asking you to get out of my face and giving me a room to breathe," Wys said in almost a single breath as he was getting out of the ring. He heard Jacob laughing behind him. As much as it hurt to sit on a bench, for some reason, Wys couldn't help but crack a smile too.

[Wystern]

Hand-to-hand, the most basic combat art. General knowledge of fighting techniques was a part of Wystern's training in the Order. He didn't really get injured, just stunned, nothing he won't be able to walk off. Can't say the same thing for the other guy though. That first tackle was what won the fight, the second just made it obvious. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and brow, and sucked his lip until the blood stopped. His nose was fine, just a slight annoyance, his father used to hit him harder than that; hell, his mother probably did too. The pages were starting real weapons training in a few months, so, they didn't want them to be like a bunch of little kids that are useless without their toys. Suddenly, about a year ago, a lot of "they's" emerged. They want this, they want that, who are "they"? It didn't really matter, whoever "they" were, they seemed to be doing a good job at what they were supposed to do. Wys got up after about a thirty-minute rest. There was another pair of pages sparring in the ring. He got up, his master was still looking at him with sort of proud smile. Wys stretched, checked his body for any more injuries, and started walking to the mess hall, hungry out of his mind. He would wake up with some bruises tomorrow, but nothing that wouldn't heal in a matter of a couple of days. He looked at Kodan, who was talking to his master, he looked in hella worse shape than Wys did. At this point in time he almost felt sorry for nearly hospitalizing his opponent. Almost. Now was a good time to get some food, rest, and start practicing again...tomorrow. He was done with the matches, for now.

[Wystern]

Time Stamp: 4th of Spring, 504 AV.

Next morning Wys woke up with a grunt and a dry voice that made him sound forty years older. They let him live in Jacob's apartment because of the relationship the two had. Jacob was his guardian, training master, and commanding officer, and all at the same time. He slowly walked past a window, grunting when the glaring light hit his eyes and slowly made his way to the mirror. On his face rested a bunch of bruises around the chin and on his lips was a cut he overlooked earlier. Once again, proving the fact that all men must poke the injury to realize that it really does hurt, Wys grimaced in the mirror for about five minutes, brushed his teeth, spit blood and walked to the dresser, still feeling like crap. Crow slipped into his clean page training uniform, and checked if his instructor was still home. After the swift reconnaissance yielded no traces of Jacob in the apartment, Wys grunted and began his journey to the training grounds. He walked out of his apartment, a dagger in the boot, bandages on his arms, a bag on his shoulder, and a smart-ass grin on his face. He walked through the streets that were already fairly crowded-Syliras never sleeps. Wys met up with about three pages, Don Matis and Zackariah, on his way to the grounds, like he always did as they all shared the same route and destination. After a short greeting, they did what most of the other teenage boys that are in the military do, talk about how the training sucks and ogle every pretty skirt passing by. A waitress from the Rearing Stallion winked at them as they passed by the bar. "Did you see that? She's totally into me," Mat remarked. "In your dreams, that was totally for me," Zack argued. Wys rolled his eyes, there they go, bickering again. She only did it because she saw him, and that was once again only because of what Jacob did a few of days ago. "I helped this one lass stop a fight the other day. Damn, what's her name, starts with a C...Cammy? No, that's not it. Carrie...Carmen! That maiden's got the beauty of a goddess and the combat skills to break some poor guy's arm in three places. And the skills with her tong...actually, I'm gonna tell you about that when you're older," Jacob said a couple of days ago, before he started rambling or Wys stopped paying attention; one or the other. There they go, passing by some schoolgirl that seemed to be there every day. In fact, it seemed like just about everyone knew each other, at least in this area of the castle. Wys yawned, having nothing of importance to contribute to the conversation. It felt like someone was watching him, or maybe it was the fact that he might have a concussion for all he knows. "So, have you, Wys?" one of the pages asked him. "Sorry, have I what?" Wys asked, snapped back into reality. "Out of it again?" Matis laughed. "I think this one has a thing for you, at least her eyes have," Don said, nudging Wys with an elbow and flicking his head to the right. "Did you talk to her yet?" Wys quickly glanced at the schoolgirl that walked past them a little earlier. "Nope." "Nope? You probably should, lest before your face falls off" Zack laughed. "That made no sense. And when would I find the time?" Wys shrugged off. "Hey, my master always says that you should always have the time to get some," Zack said with a poker face. "Glad to know he keeps your mind out of the gutter," Wys said with a smirk. "A little late for your first sarcastic remark of the day, isn't it?" Matis nudged. Wystern didn't reply. They were at the training grounds. He waved them off and slowly started looking for Jacob, still distracted by what Don said. It explained the awkward sensation from earlier, and a fit's a fit.

[Wystern]

It took Wys a couple of Minutes to find his master who was donning the training gear at the time. Jacob looked back at Wys, nodded, and continued to put on the protective pads. Wys took off his jacket, and enjoyed the Spring sun on his neck for a few moments before he started stretching. The silence continued for a few minutes before Wys broke it. "Fine, I'll bite. What are we doing today." "You carrying the key on you?" Jacob grunted, getting up in a thirty-pound suit. "Yes. Why?" Wystern asked with a skeptical look on his face. "Give it to me." Wys reached for his back and under the belt, where he usually carried it. The thing was held tight and constantly in place with small hooks. Wystern's weird paranoia knew few bounds. and carrying the key just in the pocket was a little...too normal. Normal was for people who were actually born here. Wys tossed it to Jacob, who barely caught it with the uncomfortable gloves. "I'll ask again, why do you want the key?" "Your training today," the master said while bringing a small string through the loop and tying it around his own belt. "You are going to get the key from me." "What?" "The rules are simple, you are going to try to get the key. If you fail before dusk, then you sleep outside. Use any means you see fit to obtain your key." "What?" "You heard me. Oh, and give me your dagger." "What dagger?" "We both know you are carrying it. Hell, I even know how you got your hands on it. And that you take extreme care of it; you can lie, my boy, you have the talent after all, but it's difficult to lie to me." "Fine." Wys got onto one knee and unstrapped an assassin's dagger from his right ankle.He got it a few years back; he stole some money from a man in the streets and disappeared into the crowd before the Knights got called in. About 4 GM, and with that, he bought a dagger that he kept near himself at all times. The blacksmith was really curious why a kid needed a fatal weapon. Money's money, and the world goes around on trade. Trade and wars. "So that's it?" "That is it." "I can use anything?" "Except for that dagger, yeah. Anything you can get your hands on and get the key." "You couldn't make it harder, could you?" "What would be the fun in that, Crow? Come on, your time is running out."

[Wystern]

The day was quickly getting by. It seemed that the knight's agility wasn't hindered by the pads. Now Wys was chasing him across the grassy ground. He just jumped over a fence, twice, and Jacob just avoided it. Wys was running out of breath, soon he wouldn't have much energy left. Was the training that hard for other knights? Maybe it would be no fun to just do the drills, without a more viable threat. Jacob was getting worn out faster than Wys, finally the added difficulty of carrying that annoying gear started to take toll. Wys smiled, and jumped on Jacob's back as soon as he got within range.The pair struggled for a moment. Wys reached for the belt once more. The page got thrown off faster than he could understand what was going on. That familiar flash of light, impossible to escape, and it always accompanies those that fall. A groan escaped Wystern's lips. It feels like the sun is laughing at him. Laughing as it is setting down. Every time he comes to the grounds, he always ends up on his back. There is a lesson to be learned in that. "Get up, boy, the nights are still cold," Jacob said with an ever so broad smile. Wys grunted and rolled to his feet. His body felt like one big, gigantic bruise. It seems to be the only thing he felt lately. Sore, beaten, pummeled, down and yet never defeated. He spit on the ground and slapped himself in the face for a wake-up call, and winced when he realized he forgot about the bruises. He took a stance, feet solid on the ground, ready to dash any second. Wys looked Jacob straight in the eyes, and the latter remembered why he chose Wys as his own. That piercing look, full of ferocity and lacking any fear. The boy had a gift for determination, Jacob smiled, feeling a little proud. Wystern dashed straight for his goal and dodged the incoming punch. He threw a right knee into Jacob's gut, but all he felt was padding. A quick reach for the key was denied when Wystern's knee got picked up by his master's left hand, who tried to throw him back on the ground. In a rare moment of opportunity, Wys changed the target, grabbed Jacob's arm, pushed off his left foot off the ground and his right off Jacob's body. A quick picture painted itself in the knight's mind, but his page's plan was already in the action. The momentum from Crow's body, pushed him to the right and it flung Jacob onto the ground, along with Wys. The page didn't fall far, but Jacob was thrown with his left arm damn near out of socket. The pair hit the grass, and Wys was trying to get on his knees, his master was wondering what just happened. A moment of confusion came and Wystern once again, instinctively reached for the key, and got punched away in the cheeck just when he he got his fingers through the loop. He heard a snap, his fingers locked on the key. The string broke, and Crow tumbled on the ground with a strange sound of laughing and discomfort. He got to his knees and a wide smile spread across his lips. "I win," he said with a smile that ran from ear to ear. "Impressive. Must've went too easy on you. Where did you learn that?" Jacob asked with a smirk. "Instinct," said Wys and collapsed on the ground, trying to regain his breath. His body began to feel the tolls of exercise again. He felt like he just ran a marathon and then had a hand-to-hand match with a bull. Ironically, close enough to the truth. Wys got up, the setting beginning to grow dark and slowly began walking to the tent where he left his things. Jacob came in when Wys was putting the dagger back in the boot. "You know you aren't allowed to carry that." "Don't think of it as a weapon, think of it as a tool for survival." "Except that it's definitely a weapon, and it's not Sunberth." "Of all the things I have ever done, carrying a weapon is by far not the worst." "Not a good way to justify it, but right now I'm too tired to give a shyke. By the way, I really would give the key back, regardless of the outcome after that move. Haven't seen anything like it in years." Wys let out a short laugh,"Normal is for normal people." "Indeed it is, kid, indeed it is. Let's go home, but before that something to eat. I'm thinking Stallion." Wystern smirked.

[Dusk]

XP Award! Wystern XP Award: Unarmed Combat: 1 XP, Rhetoric: 1 XP, Acrobatics: 1 XP Lore Award: Syliran Sparring Matches, Victory over an opponent, Training games, Surprising your enemy Ledger: None Additional Note Sorry for the delay in grading!