|| 48th Winter, 512AV || The Storm Shrine ||
”So, what does my favourite Myrian want to learn today?”
Ayatah shot her training a look, but the short man simply grinned in response. She looked ahead once more before replying, ”I would like to practise my dual-wielding.”
Nuvro clapped his hands together and nodded, ”Yes, yes. Good idea. I thought you would.”
They got to the Storm Shrine, slowing only when they stood next to it. Thankfully, the wind was not so bad today. Ayatah only had to shout a little to be head over the gusts. ”I want to learn some acrobatics at some point, too.”
”Ah, ah!” He waggled his finger at the tall woman in front of him, ”I told you that you’d need to learn acrobatics - you don’t have a choice in me teaching you that.”
”Good thing I want to learn, then.” Her words were accompanied by a smirk. Despite their entirely different upbringing and lifestyle, the human man and Myrian woman complimented each other. Both were stubborn, but both enjoyed humour too, and in particular the humour they found in one another.
Nuvro was stretching, pulling his legs and arms in tight angles that Ayatah would not have expected a man his age to be able to do. When she vocalised this thought, it was Nuvro’s turn to throw a glare.
”Underestimation, for whatever reason, is the most powerful thing you can give to your foe.”
Out of all of his little catch phrases, this was one that Ayatah understood instantly, and agreed with. As a young half-Eypharian growing up in the Myrian city of Taloba, her pureblooded counterparts had certainly doubted her ability to hunt and kill like a ‘proper’ Myrian. She had delighted in proving them wrong (most of the time, anyway). But it was the expression that her comrades wore when she killed a foe, or won a sparring match, that Ayatah remembered most fondly.
”I agree.”
”You sound surprised.”
”So do you.” They shared a grin, ”I have been known to listen to you sometimes, you know.”
The older man did not reply to that, but instead passed Ayatah two wooden double-bladed daggers. ”Instead of simple saprring, I want to do something different.” As long as Ayatah did not have to juggle the daggers like before, she didn’t care what Nuvro had planned. ”I’m going to stand here, still as anything. Then I’m going to tell you how to stab me. If you are too slow, or make a mistake,” the short man smirked, ”then you’ll regret it.”
Despite the light-hearted way in which he spoke, Ayatah suspected Nuvro had some devilish plan behind that grin. The man was known for having… strange teaching methods.
”Sounds easy enough.” She said slowly, eyes narrowing, ”though what do you mean when you say ‘I’ll regr-”
”LEFT!”
”What?” she raised her right hand - her dominant one - in puzzlement.
And Nuvro, who stood there with his arms behind his back like a good little solider, pulled out a thin plank of wood and whipped Ayatah around the head with it.
Ayatah shot her training a look, but the short man simply grinned in response. She looked ahead once more before replying, ”I would like to practise my dual-wielding.”
Nuvro clapped his hands together and nodded, ”Yes, yes. Good idea. I thought you would.”
They got to the Storm Shrine, slowing only when they stood next to it. Thankfully, the wind was not so bad today. Ayatah only had to shout a little to be head over the gusts. ”I want to learn some acrobatics at some point, too.”
”Ah, ah!” He waggled his finger at the tall woman in front of him, ”I told you that you’d need to learn acrobatics - you don’t have a choice in me teaching you that.”
”Good thing I want to learn, then.” Her words were accompanied by a smirk. Despite their entirely different upbringing and lifestyle, the human man and Myrian woman complimented each other. Both were stubborn, but both enjoyed humour too, and in particular the humour they found in one another.
Nuvro was stretching, pulling his legs and arms in tight angles that Ayatah would not have expected a man his age to be able to do. When she vocalised this thought, it was Nuvro’s turn to throw a glare.
”Underestimation, for whatever reason, is the most powerful thing you can give to your foe.”
Out of all of his little catch phrases, this was one that Ayatah understood instantly, and agreed with. As a young half-Eypharian growing up in the Myrian city of Taloba, her pureblooded counterparts had certainly doubted her ability to hunt and kill like a ‘proper’ Myrian. She had delighted in proving them wrong (most of the time, anyway). But it was the expression that her comrades wore when she killed a foe, or won a sparring match, that Ayatah remembered most fondly.
”I agree.”
”You sound surprised.”
”So do you.” They shared a grin, ”I have been known to listen to you sometimes, you know.”
The older man did not reply to that, but instead passed Ayatah two wooden double-bladed daggers. ”Instead of simple saprring, I want to do something different.” As long as Ayatah did not have to juggle the daggers like before, she didn’t care what Nuvro had planned. ”I’m going to stand here, still as anything. Then I’m going to tell you how to stab me. If you are too slow, or make a mistake,” the short man smirked, ”then you’ll regret it.”
Despite the light-hearted way in which he spoke, Ayatah suspected Nuvro had some devilish plan behind that grin. The man was known for having… strange teaching methods.
”Sounds easy enough.” She said slowly, eyes narrowing, ”though what do you mean when you say ‘I’ll regr-”
”LEFT!”
”What?” she raised her right hand - her dominant one - in puzzlement.
And Nuvro, who stood there with his arms behind his back like a good little solider, pulled out a thin plank of wood and whipped Ayatah around the head with it.
|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||
