60th of Winter, 512 A.V.
The night air in the Kendoka Sasaran seared Malken's lungs as he swung the wooden sword through the air over and over again, his grip on the hilt strong as he performed every little slash, stab and swipe that the student he was paired with sturdily blocked. He had been there since mid afternoon and the only breaks he took were for water and a meager bit of food before the sun set. By now his arms and legs were starting to become sore and tired from the constant clashing of practice blades and his lungs fought to hold in air as he made every little movement. There was a stinging pain all over his body but one he was well acquainted with, the burn that every akalak warrior knew of growing up. The stinging was a reminder of what one had accomplished that day, proof that it was time well spent no matter how harsh the conditions or how bad the day seemed. For those with minds heavy of endless thoughts such as his, it was an effective means to anchor one to the real world as the pain reminded one of who they were and what they were doing. One could hardly lose themselves in their own minds when it was the body doing all the work. Each swing was a powerful reminder that he was still born and bred a warrior and leaving his home would not change that.
The sharp sound of wood meeting wood echoed throughout the training room, louder than all of the rest. A misstep had lead to one of the many spontaneous
duels that occurred regularly at the dojo. The sudden battle drew the attention of several of he students but not Malkaren. His partner was moments away from a sharp swipe to the side of the head before he realize what was going on and moved to block. Their blades yet again but the other akalak was knocked off balance, stumbling a few steps back and trying to regain his balance. Malkaren took two strong steps forward and swept up, knocking the practice sword out of his opponent's hand and striking under his chin with enough force to send him falling over on his back. He held his stance for a moment, filled with satisfaction and relief though it lasted only a moment as his arms fell to his side with only a loose grip on his sword. The high was gone in the blink of an eye and with it his will to continue on for the day. Without so much as a word or gesture to his training partner, he went to return his weapon to the training rack and snatched up the cloak he'd left near it before going straight for the doors.
He pushed them open slowly, the full force of the night air stinging his already sore body. Pulling up his hood and wrapping his cloak around him tightly, he trudged through the snow towards Semele Park without a look back. The route was old and familiar to him as it was one he took constantly as he would often cut through the park to avoid some of the heavier business sections of the city as well as take in the lovely scenery the park was well known for. The piles of snow and thin layer of ice that covered everything made everything look as though the world was made of diamonds resting on soft down pillows. As he approached the home of all the old trees and flowers he saw that it too was glazed over, some of the more determined flowers keeping their bright colors despite the frost and some staying in bloom more so than usual. He made little effort to stop and stare this night as the crisp air was anything but refreshing on his burning lungs. He made his way quickly and quietly, only giving a silent nod to all the volunteer watch members he passed as they did their rounds. The route he took was so familiar to him that his feet moved with little thought of his own as memory guided him along east twist and turn.
It wasn't until a good fifteen minutes of walking did anything unusual occur. He was passing by another member of the watch, a lean tall figure in a dull brown and heavily patched cloak with their hood drawn all the way over their head that cloaked their face in shadow. While Mal nodded politely to him, the stranger didn't return it and instead reached out as he passed to place a firm hand on his shoulder. Malkaren tensed instantly, his head shooting up and turning towards the figure as he tried to figure out who it was. The raspy voice that came from the folds of the cloak made the man's identity known.
"You're growing dull, kid."
The man raised his other hand to his face and pulled back his hood to revealed the strong and scarred face of an older akalak with light blue eyes, a silvering fauxhawk and small soul patch on the tip of his chin. The man was Amantis, the veteran tracker and hunter who had taken Malkaren under his wing after his Rite so many years ago. He was a rough and tumble figure who knew every little every little blade of grass that rest along the edge of the Sea of Grass and could take down any beast that he came across with just his bare hands. He was ill tempered and blunt, often butting heads with Mal when he missed his training or made a mistake but did so only to make sure his student was doing right as he knew coddling would only weaken him in later life. Malkaren cleared his throat as he looked his teacher dead in the eye. "I'm sorry, master. I'm just tired."
"You know I don't take excuses, boy," Amantis growled before lifting a hand to lightly smack his apprentice upside the head. Despite decades of working together, the aging akalak still treated Mal like a child whenever he stepped out and line and found most any reason to believe he had. "Man and beast won't stop and let ya catch ya breathe when you're on the run, sprinting for dear life. You won't last long out there-" He points at the dark horizon, away from the lights of the city. "- if ya hesitate. Ya'll be beak bait within a week."
Malkaren's eyes didn't shift away from his master's as he glared straight at him, holding eye contact as he'd been taught to. Refusing to look a peer in the eye was disrespectful as you weren't giving them your full attention. "I'm not some child living off the hype of completing his Rite of Passage, believing being recognized as a man makes one invincible. I wouldn't even think to leave if I didn't believe I had the skills needed to survive. I can do it. You've seen-"
"Seen what?" Amantis asked, cutting him off harshly. "I haven't seen hide nor hair of ya anywhere near the Seas since the snow first fell. Since ya went and made the decision that ya're leaving. I stopped by ya home, you know. Father barely tearing himself away from the forge and ya mother trying to fight back tears at the mere mention of ya. I go and check ya room and it's barren."
"Yes, I left. I'm staying at Atri's Place until the snow melts and the gate are open again. I have no reason to sit in that home as Father give me silence and dark looks while Mother pleas and bargains, fearing for my safety and sanity. Even if I did want to go back, Father will have undoubtingly have had my named removed from the family records by now. He knows I won't let this go."
"Oh, don't go acting like you're doing this merely out of the childish stubborn streak you and your father share. He may not like what ya're doing but blood is blood and he still raised ya to be smarter than this and it ain't just him ya hurting. This whole city is ya family. All the boys who grew up with ya, every man who taught ya a new trick. Don't go hurting them all like that, boy. They deserve better."
"I..." There was a slight hesitation in Malkaren's voice as the words hit home. Of course the old man was right. Cutting off everyone he knew as he waited for Spring wouldn't make things any easier. It was just an excuse to avoid the looks of sadness and disappointment he expected they would all give him. "I know. I apologize, master."
"I didn't come out here to freeze my ass off for some half-hearted apology from you." Amantis lifts up his hand and points a finger in the younger man's face. "I want a promise from you that you're going to take one last lesson from me before you run off and get yourself killed."
Malkaren looked down at the finger distastefully, some of the tension in the air breaking from his teacher's words. He looked him in the face again as he answered him. "Fine, I'll come in a few days. But don't think you giving me your usual scathing opinion of my work is going to slow me down any. I'll say my goodbyes when I need to. Until then I have a lot of preparing to do."
A wry smile spread across Amantis's face at these words. "I'm holding you to that or I'll go after you and drag you back here myself." His grip on his shoulder loosened as he let go, giving him a firm pat before he began to walk down the path Mal had come from. "Bring the usual gear. And your weapon too. It'll be an experience you won't soon forget." Letting out a rough guffaw as he pulled his hood up, he kept going and soon slipped out of sight as he turned a corner behind a high row of flower bushes.
Mal watched his progress silently as he went, staring at the spot he was standing when he last saw him for a good minute or so before he remembered just how cold he was getting. Wrapping his cloak around him tightly once again he headed down the path at an jog as he tried to make his way out of the park. He took a few shortcuts, cutting inbetween bushes and branches without leaving a single petal on any of the flowers ruffled, before arriving on the road again. The streets were not very crowded with only a few late shoppers buying a few last minute thing as the owners urged them to be quick so they could close and be back home. Passing by the Academy and over the bridge that spanned the Bluevein, it wasn't long before he arrived at the warm and affordable inn, Atri's Place. He slid by the front desk quickly, giving Atri only the slightest of waves as he hurried to his room and unlocked the door with the key in his cloak. Pushing the door open lead to the most basic of rooms imaginable with nothing more than a bed, table and chair occupying the tan walled space. Under the table but a bag full of things Malkaren was gathering for the trip ahead and on top of it lay the form of a golden furred kevat who's beady little eyes were shut tight as it was already deep asleep. Carefully taking off his cloak and draping it over the chair, he slipped carefully under the sheets and killed the light. He had been fearing thoughts and worries to plague him as he tried to rest but exhaustion quickly overtook him as he drifted into a dreamless sleep. |
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by Malkaren on February 2nd, 2013, 7:28 am 
