Closed Tell Me More [Markus]

[Nira'lia]

The Konti had a look of panic in her eyes as he towered over her and put a hand on her shoulder. At that instant she wanted to push away frantically, but she stopped herself. Nira’lia stared at him an expression that was half of irritation, half of fright. The Konti didn’t like being in such close proximity with someone else, and she made no effort in hiding that fact.

“I understand. Let go of me!”

She glared at him for a few moments even after he had taken his hand off her shoulder. He spoke as if nothing had happened, and Nira’lia was inwardly seething. It made no sense to her as to why he thought he could ever keep a secret on the isle of Konti. It didn’t make any sense to her at all.

“Alright, I will accompany you,” she said with reluctance. Despite wanting to get away, she realized that this was also a good chance to find answers. “Yes, that’s the pavilion.”

As they walked to the entrance of the pavilion, the Konti said nothing else. The pavilion itself was surrounded by water, with a walkway leading up to it. It was quite a large compound, though she had not been inside yet. It was painted in a mix of blue and red, giving off a harmonious accent to it. As they stepped inside, the Konti immediately took a look around. The interior of the first floor had a simple and spacious feel to it. Currently, there were only a few of her sisters present.

“Go ahead then,” she said to Markus as she wondered how a person trained alone—or was he going to look for someone to spar with? Or perhaps a dummy? She didn’t know what he had in mind, so she waited patiently.

[Markus Andres]

Markus didn't like the pavillion's exterior. Its decoration was bland, at best. Simple rectangular patterns against a blue backdrop. He liked the colour blue, but it just seemed too bland for his taste. Still, he was a warrior, not an artist. It could be coloured brown with huge smears of red on it and he would still use the place to train. Still, he found the pavilion a disappointment compared to the rest of the city. Stepping into the pavilion, Markus noticed the fairer gender right away. He should have come there earlier to train and observe. If not to see their fighting style, then to see their style. He tore his eyes away from the practising Konti ladies and back to the one accompanying him. He was rather glad he wasn't dating this one, or he would be in a world of trouble. He noticed the place was neatly arranged in circles. Smaller and smaller He shrugged in response, for he had not heard what she had said. But the tone told him it wasn't important He took off his cloak. His massive form no longer hidden behind the loose cloak. His kind green eyes looking at the lady accompanying him. "You said you had questions." he said before turning to place his cloak on a rack, provided there was one, if not, he would find an area by the wall where it could lie out of the way. He also took off his boots there and returned to the conveniently colour coded mats. He slowly drew the bastard from its sheath. He held the bastard sword firmly in both hands. Looked past his own blade. The training would be light, at best. No complex manoeuvres nor intricate feigns. The good old basic strikes would be a good warm up and get his blood and muscles used to the blade again. Maybe later, he could add a little magic to the mix to keep things interesting and to refresh those abilities as well. For now, his sword travelled in smooth graceful arcs. Slowly tracing lines in the air. Each strike followed by the movement of his hips and muscles tensed and eased as he moved from strike to strike. He was not interested in power and speed, not yet, for now, he was focused on keeping the strikes accurate and flawless executed. Keep his stance perfect. Not too rigid, not too loose. Keep the strikes fluid and varied. Never allowing the same routine of strikes repeat themselves. Vary between the strikes. Each of the eight basic strikes coming with increased ease as his muscles started to get warm. The speed slowly picked up as a consequence, the shift between different strikes came quicker, but he maintained the simple grace and accuracy. It felt good to be swinging the sword again. Swing it against something that wasn't a solid enemy. No splatter of blood or screams from torn flesh. Just the serene whoosh of the blade slicing through the air.

[Nira'lia]

“I do have questions,” she said softly. The Konti stood by the side and she held her hands behind herself as she watched him practice. Looking around slowly, she could see that there was not anyone else in hearing distance. Did that mean it was safe to ask? He had such a reaction earlier, that she was slightly worried of triggering that again—especially when he had a sword in hand.

Not that she thought he would strike her with the blade, but she couldn’t be too safe.

It was quite impressive to watch him swing the blade in such accurate motions. The sound of the weapon slicing through the air could be heard, and she couldn’t help but remember her Ethaefal friend. Markus was clearly talented, and she could not resist but compare the two. While impressed, Nira’lia was still entirely convinced that Eridanus would beat the knight.

“For one thing, Ser Imass was… well, he wasn’t very clear with what was to happen,” she said. There was also the added note that she never cared to ask. The Akalak knight was too zealous and intense, she was afraid of anything he would possibly say. “So… if I do return to Syliras, what would happen? Will I be punished? Imass did say I should be squired, but… I admit I do not really know what that means.”

The corner of her mouth curved into a slight smirk. The idea of being a squire was ridiculous for her. She knew her own abilities, and she knew that combat was the least of her strengths. Truthfully, the Konti believed she would make a joke out of being a squire.

“Is it true though, that there is no other way out of this? I could be a healer for the knights—that would make so much more sense.”

[Markus Andres]

The sweet serenity of a blade gently wooshing through the air was broken by the soft voice of his Konti companion. Her questions full of worry for her own future. Fearing a life as a knight. It was silly. But Markus enjoyed this ones company, even if he considered her a little light headed and prone to hissy fits. Plus, her appearance made up for any shortcomings in her personality. His breathing was slow and methodically, but as the beat of his heart grew quicker, as did his breathing. The two frantically trying to match the speed and intensity of the blade slicing the air apart. He let the Konti's questions hang unanswered for half a chime, for reasons unknown, perhaps even to himself. But when the answers came, his sword stopped its blurry motions. "I have seen you in action..." Markus suddenly said. "You are a talented healer and an eager fighter. ." He took a deep breath. "But we will return to Syliras, there I will turn you over to my masters and they will decide what will happen. You will be squired or sworn to serve the knights. Of this, there can be no discussion. But from there, I can ask them if you could become a healer for the knights. Gods know that having an extra pair of healings hands is always useful. But I would consider it a waste of your talent to restrict you to only healing. You would make a fine knight, you have the fighting spirit. You just need the experience and training to match it." Markus looked to his blade, momentarily thought of the many lives he had ended with it, both human and akalak. Sworn to protect the innocent and do whatever his superiors asked him. An oath and duty he would uphold, no matter the cost on his psyche. "Experience and training we can provide..." He trailed off as his blade started moving again. Unpredictably. Violent. With a silent fury as he went into an all out offensive against the air.

[Nira'lia]

The Konti did not believe she was an eager fighter. If anything, fighting was nothing but the last resort for her, and she rarely had to resort to it, especially not when she was travelling with Eridanus. The Knight was correct, though. It would be a waste to restrict herself to only healing—but at the moment, she refused to see that.

“You can speak to them? Really?” she asked, the pitch of her voice raising slightly. Her eyes widened and a smile spread across her face. It seemed like the best idea to her, the lesser of two evils. Not being able to aid the mage guild at this point seemed awful to her, but if she indeed had no choice but to march back to Syliras and serve the Knights, then being a healer for them appealed to her. “Can I take your word for it… that you would ask that I serve as a healer?”

Nira’lia chuckled bitterly as she thought back to the few times she had actually spoken to Imass about all this.

“Imass always made it seem like I had to train to fight, to focus on brutality and swinging a sword around, and…” she trailed off. “Well, I don’t want that.”

Smiling faintly, Nira’lia shrugged her shoulders to brush off her thoughts. The Konti looked at him.

“Honestly, I do think I have no choice but to go back with you. I feel like it would be… rather dangerous, not just for me, if I disobeyed the knights.” She thought about all the other people who had a connection to her decisions. The Knights took their secret too seriously, and who knew what length they would go for it? These were thoughts on the back of her head, and she knew she couldn’t be selfish, as much as she wanted to be. “I just hope it will not be a future that I will detest so much.”

[Markus Andres]

Lost in the moment. Lost in the art of the blade. There was a voice off to the side. The voice of miss Nira'lia continuing her doubts of the knights. Markus nodded solemnly to her question. "You have my word." - Markus was a knight and when he gave his word, it meant something. The sword swept across from the side, as Markus stepped back. It felt wonderfully calming. But it was time he stopped. He could not focus on the sword wielding as he spoke with Nira'lia. The sword swung down diagonally and with a swing he himself considered a masterpiece the sword swung about and sheathed itself in a single smooth motion. He turned to face Nira'lia, her kins natural attractiveness par the scales, was also a good way of relieving himself of stress. He let her speak out, finish talking before he would intercede on behalf of the knights. He was, however, relieved that hear that she would follow them back to Syliras, he had been dreading the idea of dragging another woman across the Syliran region. Markus nodded as she spoke. It was a huge change of life for the wandering Konti lady. Markus just wished Imass had been here to take care of it, he was, in many ways, more demanding presence than Markus could ever hope to be. "It is a brutal world we live in and not all are fit to take up the arms to defend what civilization has been carved out of the wilderness, to protect those behind the walls. As I said, you have the talent to become a great healer. But what will you do when you have to raise your arms to defend yourself? As I said, it is a brutal world and you will need to know how to protect yourself when the need comes for it." Markus said as he tapped the ground a little with his right foot. Needing something to do, something to get his hands on. Fearing he was about to get too sentimental with Nira'lia. Get too theatrical. But it was too late, he feared. "I see where you come from when you fear the future in the knighthood. I was signed up with the knights as a young lad, plucked from Zeltiva and ventured to Syliras for my glorious new life." Markus started before he smirked at what a trouble maker he had been back then. "I detested life in Syliras at first. The discipline. The gruelling training sessions. Everything was claustrophobic." Markus said as he walked closer to Nira'lia. "I'm not selling this that well, am I?" Markus chuckled, inserting some of his terrible humour into the conversation. "But now. There is no doubt that life in Syliras shaped me to be what I am. And although you might disagree, I find this outcome far better than a purposeless life in the wilderness. For I grew to love the walls, the people behind those walls. I won't lie to you and say it will be easy for you and that you won't miss the open roads. I can tell you that should you endure, should you complete your training. You will find a family large and prospering in Syliras." Markus said placing a hand on hers. "But I can't tell the future, that is your kin's ability. I may only hope for the best for you and that you find a life you won't detest. Though I imagine you will be taught in both the brutal ways of the sword, as the gentler ways of the healing arts." Markus finished with a shrug. As he said, he could not see the future.

[Nira'lia]

Slightly upset at his logic, Nira’lia frowned and stared at her feet. She had never understood why people always thought it was a necessity to know how to defend one’s self. It was just as much a necessity as knowing how to mend wounds, yet why could she not choose the latter? Sighing, and deciding that there was no point in delving into the matter further, the young Konti shrugged her shoulders lightly. But he was right, in a way. She just didn’t want to admit it. She always had someone next to her, someone to protect her. That wouldn’t always be the case. The Konti forced a cheerful laugh as she continued to listen to them. A family and prosperity did indeed sound nice. Nira’lia was still upset at the whole ordeal, and that she couldn’t hide. It was obvious by the tense stance that she so often held these days. She was just about to thank him when he unexpectedly held her hand. With apparent panic and discomfort, she pulled her hand away quickly. It was rude of her, but it was almost second nature. Since her gift worked through touch, she was always careful. And more so, she refused to know more about the secrets of that grand tree—and she assumed that there was a big chance most of the knights would show her the same memory. But then no memories came. Blinking, and completely puzzled, she frowned to herself. He was still speaking, but she had not listened to his last few words, as she was much too focused on her confusion. “I’m sorry for all the talk,” she mumbled. “I’m sure you would have a much better training session if I weren’t here asking you all these silly questions.” Nira’lia scratched the back of her neck and turned, ready to leave. But then, thinking the better of it, she spun around again and stared at him. “You said you’re from Zeltiva?” Another silly question, but she wanted to confirm it.

[Markus Andres]

Markus was surprised when she pulled back her hand so quickly. Almost as if the mere touch of his knightly hands was stingily painful for lady Nira'lia. Markus took a step back and away, raising hands flatly in a silent apology. He kept forgetting that Konti ladies had an aversion for touch. It had been the same with Airil. Blythe had not been like that though. He couldn't exactly recall Blythe that well. They had had a rather intense sword fight, that he did recall. But the look on her face, changed to confusion. Was she herself surprised at her own reaction? Markus mirrored her look. Confused at what was happening. Her apology was met with a shake of his head. But she was quick to leave. Had he offended her so by touching her hands? Perhaps he should just refrain from such a physical nature when dealing with this strange kin - or perhaps he had just run into some of the more nutty cases with a strange aversion. "Perhaps, but also much less interesting." Was Markus' only reply, surprised she turned back again. Markus could not place Nira'lia, she kept surprising him with her silly antics. Seemed that he had not offended her enough to stop her from asking questions, it seemed. Which brought a smile to his lips. He nodded slowly to her question. "Yea, I was born there. Moved from there when I was... Ten I think. What of it?" Now Markus was the one being curious. Why did she want to know this, or rather. Have it confirmed by him.

[Nira'lia]

The Konti gave a light shrug. He had left Zeltiva so long ago. The fact that no memories came up when their skins touched meant that they had met in the past, and she had been curious. But her gift was an overwhelming one, and judging by a human’s appearance, ten years old was about a decade ago for him. She was sure that it was not a recent, for example, during the battles. She would have remembered that. Perhaps a decade ago, they had bumped into each other. It was an interesting thought, and it made her think that the world was so small. “It is just that when I touch a person for the first time, I get visions about their past,” she smiled, not really delving further into the details of exactly what she saw. It was an uncomfortable topic for her, and she was unsure of how he would react. “It’s a Konti thing. Anyway, I did not see any visions just now. So I suppose we must have met back in Zeltiva.” Maybe later, she can look into his chavi and see him from a decade ago. That would ring some bells. But for now she had no idea. With a slight wave of the hand, she said, “I will be counting on you to vouch for me in Syliras, alright?”

[Markus Andres]

Markus stared at Nira'lia as she spoke. Explained her powers to him and he was unsure if she was trying to play him for a fool or if she actually spoke the truth. It just seemed so... far fetched. Saw visions when touching someone for the first time. Visions of what exactly? But she continued. He could not really ask her what she had seen because she had had none. It just made him curious as to what she had once seen back when they had met before. He could not recalling ever meeting a Konti before Syliras. In Syliras however he recalled several Konti ladies he had met. And none of them were the one before him. He would have to think back to Zeltiva, a time he'd much rather not think about at all. Why did he keep running into these people who brought back memories of his childhood. People who brought back times he hated. Standing there, thinking back on those wasted days in Zeltiva, before the glorious days of training for the knights, Markus did recall a day though. He had been following a strange fish lady and the two had raced across the harbour. He recalled she had been rude to him at first and had threatened him or something. He did not remember clearly. Thinking about that day in these adult years, no doubt she had been a Konti lady and he had been calling her a fish lady for all that time. He found it amazing that fate had destined the two to meet again this many years later in Mura of all places. A city Markus had never imagined he would ever visit. Nira'lia tried to brush him off by having him promise his help in Syliras. "Not so fast. You can't just say you got strange powers and not at least explain what you see when you touch people. Their entire past or just broken segments?" Markus asked.