[Antinous Training Grounds] A Silent Storm Pt II

by **Bitt** on May 14th, 2014, 8:26 am

69th Day of Spring, 514 AV

Bitt and Crowe made the trip to The Antinous Training Grounds in silence, for neither knew what to say. Bitt rolled his left shoulder, very concious of the movement, remembering the partially ruined state it had been in the day before; he doubted that the power wielded by Rak'keli's healers would ever cease to amaze him. There was a weight to the silence shared between the squire and his patron, it was more than a simple lack of sound.

As always, Bitt carried his quarterstaff with him, using it as a makeshift walking stick. It seemed heavier than it normally did, and for the first time the young squire truly felt the burden of carrying a weapon. His spar with Crowe the day before had been a disaster.
I lost myself for a while there...
Overcome with a lust for battle, Bitt had blacked out and brutally attacked his patron... he couldn't even remember doing it, and when he concentrated, all he could recall were vague, blurry images. Bitt hadn't truly understood the extent of his psychological condition - The Fury - until he participated in a fight that lasted longer than a single exchange. He vowed not to let it frighten him. He vowed not to be afraid... but it was hard.
How can I be knight if I can't even protect myself, from myself?
Crowe's silence worried him more than anything. Surely he was going to be expelled from the Syliran knights after what had happened; surely they couldn't let someone like Bitt remain a squire.... anxiety racked his brain, and Bitt felt his spare hand start to quiver slightly.

"Sit down, lad," Crowe stated flatly. It was the first thing the older knight had said to Bitt all day. They were in the same place as they were the day before: the place they fought. The location itself made Bitt shudder, but he obeyed, sitting cross-legged on the ground. Sand crunched lightly under him as he settled down. After a few moments, Crowe did the same, and the two faced each other. Silence. For several chimes, nothing was said, and Crowe just stared intently at his squire, his brow furrowed in concentration. Bitt returned the gaze, but struggled to keep his face passive... he was very nervous.

"We need to talk about what happened yesterday, lad." Bitt nodded, he had been expecting at least that much, "I want you to tell me exactly what happened. Everything."
"I'm sorry, Ser Crowe, but I don't remember much... it was like a dream... or a storm."
"What do you mean, lad?"
So, Bitt did his best to try and explain what he had experienced. How he pictured his mind as an endless ocean, how he stood as a stone amongst it, and how when he fought, it was as if a storm sent the ocean into a chaotic tempest that smashed relentlessly against the stone. Bitt wasn't the best at expressing himself in regards to such warped concepts, but he tried his best. Surprisingly, Crowe nodded his head in understanding at certain phrases.
"... and that's pretty much it. I'm sorry, Ser Crowe. Will you-"
"Shut up, lad. It was more my fault than yours, so stop apologising." Crowe interrupted Bitt, harshly inferring that speaking of apologies would no longer be permitted.
"Sor-" Crowe raised an eyebrow, "I mean: Yes, Ser Crowe." The older knight nodded, and started stroking his beard with one hand. He was considering something, planning how to phrase his next sentence. Bitt waited patiently.
"Close your eyes, lad. Take yourself to that ocean of yours... I want to try something." Confused, Bitt nodded slowly and let his eye lids slam shut. The conversation was progressing in a direction he hadn't expected, and he was curious as to what his patron had in mind.

First, the breathing. A deep inhalation through the nose, and a smooth exhalation through the mouth. Again. Again. Bitt could feel his heart rate lowering, and relaxation began to gently embrace him. The exercise served to calm his rustled nerves, at the very least, and for that he was relieved. Slowly he felt himself growing heavier, as if he were sinking into himself. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale Exhale. Next came the visualisation:
An ocean, wide and unending, as far as the eye could see. A single rock, like a small island, stood alone amongst the waves. There was a gentle current, and the water lapped lazily upon the stone. At that moment, all was peaceful. Bitt knew that he was the stone, but strangely, he found himself standing on top of it as well...
"Okay Crowe, I'm there." Bitt's voice was barely a whisper.

by **Bitt** on May 14th, 2014, 10:01 am

"Alright lad, that's good. Now, I want you to strengthen your mind. Make it so strong that even as it is buffeted by a strom, it will not waver. Can you do this for me, lad?" Crowe spoke clearly, but there was a soothing, nurturing tone to his voice. He still had his eyes open, and was studying his squire intently. Bitt's shoulders rose and fall in time with his breathing, which was coming in slow, even intervals. This was good, his squire was getting quite proficient at entering a meditative trance, he thought.
"I don't know how." Bitt could hear when his patron spoke, just barely. Looking so far inwards, his awareness of his surroundings was limited. His voice was void of emotion when he spoke. Flat. This too, Crowe noted, was a good sign.
"I want you to build some walls, lad. Big, powerful walls. Walls that would put Syliras to shame. They must be strong, and you have to believe that they will be strong. You must have faith in your own strength, lad. Protect yourself, so that you can protect others."

Bitt's brow furrowed slightly as he concentrated. In his mind's eye, he saw the ocean, he saw his rock... but he saw nothing else. A small frown tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Crowe... there's nothing here I can use. Despite himself, the older knight found himself smiling softly. For Bitt to be concerned about physical limitations in a visualised setting was typical of the lad. His squire had such a genuine character, that it troubled the older knight to see him struggling so much with his affliction.
"Lad, that ocean is yours. That entire space is yours. You are in control. Just focus, 'will' the walls into existance... they will come, I am sure. Make them as big, and as strong, as you can. Bitt tilted his head slightly, an unconscious action that mirrored the imagined version of himself. Bitt hadn't ever thought of it that way.
"I will try..."

A gentle breeze blew, and Bitt stared longingly at the horizon, wondering what lay beyond it. The sound of the water was soothing, and it rolled in tiny waves that barely crested the water's surface. I am in control... Bitt glanced at the rock on which he stood, noticing for the first time that his feet were bare. That's odd... As soon as he realised that he should be feeling the cool contact of the earth, he started to feel it. Cold. A shiver ran up his spine. I am in control... He thought of what a wall was: a large barrier. Stone, probably. Bricks. Large, stone bricks, like the citadel. The rock on which Bitt stood began to shake, and from the ground a wall started to grow. A single layer of bricks surrounded the squire, and he felt pride at the accomplishment, struggling not to lose his focus. I am in control...

Crowe saw his squire shiver: another unconscious action. It had been over half-a-bell since Bitt had last spoken, but still the older knight paid close attention to him. Watching. All he could do was hope that it was going well.
Keep at it, lad.
Crowe began to absent-mindedly scratch his beard.

by **Bitt** on May 14th, 2014, 12:43 pm

Not a wall, but a dome. A shell. A large, stone shell. It grew from the ground, responding to Bitt's will. Slowly. It was not easy. Straining. Sweating. Struggling. Higher it grew. Thicker, as Bitt gave it properties. I am in control, you will be strong... A barrier between himself and the ocean that lay beyond. I am in control, you will not break... Finally, it was finished, and the top of the shell grew into place... Darkness. Unease. Bitt was shut off. He could not see. This is not right... It was too much. To shut himself off completely was wrong... A portion of the shell crumpled to dust. A low doorway. An arch. He could come and go as he pleased. I am in control... Bitt crawled outside and enjoyed the smell of the ocean. This place was his.

Bitt opened his eyes.
"I did it Ser Crowe... I think." Crowe narrowed his eyes at his squire's weak response.
"You think, lad? Or you know?"
"I know." Bitt's response came almost instantly. He remembered Crowe's words; he had to be sure of himself. "By the way, Ser Crowe, why did you have me do that?" His patron grinned,
"Hmmm, so we could spar of course. Now, on your feet, lad. We've been sitting here for over three bells, and my old legs are getting cramped." The older knight motioned to stand up, and-
"Three bells?!? But that only took me a few ticks, at most!" Bitt blurted out, he couldn't believe what his patron had said was true. The squire craned his neck upwards, glancing towards the sky and, sure enough, he saw that the sun had almost reached its zenith.
"Time is a very subjective thing, lad," Crowe said cryptically.
Unbelievable...
Crowe chuckled at the sight of his stunned squire and started stretching; his muscles hurt. Bitt on the other hand, deciding not to let his mind linger on the concept of time, hopped lightly to his feet. Crowe frowned at the sight,
"...I hate young people..." he grumbled, and Bitt had the sense to pretend that he didn't hear it.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Ser Crowe?" Bitt called out to his patron. The young squire held his quarterstaff in low-guard, and stood several feet away from Crowe, who mirrored the stance. The older knight shrugged.
"Sure it is, lad. You've still got your walls up, don't you?" It was important Bitt remain confident, and Crowe had to try and promote the attribute. His squire would need to constantly develop and strengthen his mental fortitude. This would be a test. The older knight had a responsibility, after all. If he judged that Bitt was a lost cause, then Crowe would be forced to recommend that he be expelled from the Syliran Knights. He did not want that to happen.
"Yes, Ser Crowe."
"Well, then there's nothing to worry about, is there, lad? Now come on; attack me!" Bitt nodded and tightened his grip on the quarterstaff. The squire took several deep breaths, reminding himself to take cover behind his mental defences. Focusing on his patron, Bitt dashed forward and launched a basic thrust at the older knight's stomach.

by **Bitt** on May 14th, 2014, 1:37 pm

Instead of setting Bitt up for a counter strike, Crowe simply knocked the thrust out to the side and hopped backwards. He and his squire had agreed on a single exchange, after which they would stop and examine the situation. If Bitt continued the offensive, then Crowe would know that his efforts had been unsuccessful.

A strong wind started to howl. Storm clouds appeared over the horizon, and they started their slow, ominous creep across the ocean. The water began to stir, and the sky darkened. A storm was coming. Inside his shell of stone, Bitt waited anxiously, unable to see the events unfolding beyond his shelter... but he could feel them. Lightning struck in the distance, and thunder shook the air. I... I am in control...

"Crowe... it worked! You're a genius!" Bitt exclaimed. Crowe nodded solemly. It was not over yet.
"That's good lad... time to test your limits."
"Wha-" Bitt was unable to finish his sentence, as Crowe struck out with a thrust of his own. The young squire leapt backwards several paces, landing nimbly on the balls of his feet. He raised his quarterstaff, preparing for the next attack. Crowe thrust again, and Bitt knocked the attack away with his own-

The tempest was upon him, and the wind tore at Bitt's defences. Waves crashed endlessly into the structure, and it started to crumble in places. Focus. Focus. Bitt stood strong, willing the stone to regrow itself. It was a slow process, and the shell was being worn away faster than he could repair it. Focus. Slowly, he could start to feel the effects of the storm. The urges. They threatened to rip him in two, but he struggled to keep himself. I. AM. IN. CONTROL! With a single, final push, Bitt felt the two waring forces inside of him reach equalibrium. Order and chaos fighting for supremecy. A delicate balance.

"Are you okay lad?" Crowe yelled at his squire, who had suddenly stopped moving. Bitt held his head downwards, staring the the ground.
"I'm fine Crowe... I'm in control." Bitt managed an answer, and it was the truth. He felt the urges, felt the blood-lust, felt the Fury within him... but he was able to fight it. He was able to resist. He was still himself. Slowly, the squire raised his head-
"... by Sylir..." Crowe whispered, unsure of what to make of the situation. A sick, twisted smirk twitched on Bitt's face, and it frightened the older knight. Quickly, Crowe focused on his squire's eyes, they were... normal. They lacked the murderous intent that had filled them the day before.
"Should we keep going? Bitt asked, and after a few ticks, his patron managed an answer;
"... Yes, lad. Let's continue."

The pair continued sparring, and neither landed a blow on the other. It was another of their agreements, a check to make sure Bitt squire remained in control. Even if they found an opening - and Crowe made sure to present plenty to his squire - they were to pull their blows. As far as the older kngiht could tell, his squire was managing... but that smile. The sick twisted smile that looked so foreign on his good natured squire's face... Crowe suspected that it would haunt his dreams that night. The fact that it vanished within a chime of their spar ending was of no comfort to him.

by **Radiant** on May 14th, 2014, 2:00 pm

Bitt :

Notes :

My radiance is not bright enough?

If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, beam me a PM and we can work it out.

Skill	XP Earned
Observation	+1 XP
Socialization	+1 XP
Storytelling	+1 XP
Meditation	+3 XP
Weapon: Quarterstaff	+1 XP
Acrobatics	+1 XP

Completed [Antinous Training Grounds] A Silent Storm Pt II