Time Stamp: 17th of Spring, 504 AV. |
Wys had to rest for a day or two, orders. He was coming down with fatigue, and a lack of sleep, the training wasn't being nice. "Don't worry," Jacob said,"I'm only running you harder than my master did me because I want you to be better than me. And you have the potential. It always gets harder with each generation, and you are going to run your apprentice harder than I did you. Just the way it goes." Wys got up and stretched, feeling significantly better than he did a few days ago. Today was the day when he started weapons training. In a year or so, They would start off with armor, and it would just get more strenuous from there. Not that he could quit this lifestyle. Wystern's options were slim, and regardless of his education, and how smart he was, the military was spelled out for him better than anything else. Wys could get a job behind a stand, but then he knew he would feel empty inside, his life would be always missing something. "Wake up, Crow!" Wys heard from the next room. His patron then stumbled into Wystern's small quarters in the barrack, if one could call them quarters. "Oh, you are already up. Good. Hurry, your training awaits." "Yes, Sir,"Wys said without a slight excitement in his voice. The pair walked outside, looking slightly unorthodox. One was armed and armored, and the other had a cloud of negativity hanging around him. The air was still a little bitter from the winter passing on. It felt like the patron simply had to stop by the Stallion, yet again, to flirt with one of the barmaids, whatever her name was. They arrived to the grounds half an hour later than planned. "It's alright, Wys, we didn't waste that much time," the knight tried to justify himself. "The older you get, the more you become a fool for a woman. True story." "Oh, you got that one right," Wys said with playful mockery. "Please, shut up," Jacob said with a smirk. He then disappeared into an armory with two pairs of curved swords, two wooden and two sheathed in black scabbards, with Syliran markings on them. The master leaned a pair against a nearby fence, and the scabbards shined in the morning sun. Jacob tossed the wooden sword handle first. Wys caught and examined the slender blade. It was about as large as his arm and was surprisingly heavy for its size. "What is this? Where's the longsword?" Wystern asked with a strange uncertainty in his voice. "I'm not teaching you to wield a longsword. This is a katana, one of the sharpest blades ever invented. Rumors have it that some can actually cut through steel. This is what you will be learning to use," Jacob explained with a smile. "Why this, instead of the standard?" Wys asked with a puzzled expression on his face. "Because normal is boring. And because it's what I was taught by my master. And it's also frequently more efficient than a longsword and is a faster weapon." "So why do I not see other Knights march around with these?" "They are expensive. They are worth almost seven times the regular fee required for a longsword. Even the ones up there are worth a hundred gold, each, but nobody would dare to steal them because with Syliran weaponry comes Syliran wrath. Alright, Crow, just hold the handle with both of your hands, dominant on top, and attack me." Wys didn't have to hear the last bit twice. He gripped the handle so hard, the wood almost creaked. The master and the apprentice looked each other in the eyes for a few moments and Wys made the first move. Needless to say, the boy left a lot of openings with each attack, and with each obvious one, Jacob slapped him in the ribs with a broad side of the blade. "Alright, you're lacking in your movement. We will first focus on your feet,"Jacob said after a couple of hours of beating Wys with a practice blade. "Why my feet?" Crow asked between breaths. "You can't dodge my strikes, and I'm barely even trying to hit you. You can't move out of the way fast enough, and you get hurt. Moving around is as much a part of swordplay as hitting your opponent. That should be evident, thus far," the patron said with a blank expression. Wys sighed, and they kept going, his ribs were slowly easing up on the pain. It was just annoying, like a bee sting. Each slap stung harder. Wys was starting to make less mistakes, but swinging a practice sword that was actually heavier than the real thing was getting him worn out. Thwack! Wys gasped in pain and paused to catch his breath. This was Jacob going easy, and truth be told, he had every reason to raise the difficulty. Wys would climb steep learning curves for a living, this should be nothing. The pain was blinding, but the message was clear: unless you are better than him, stop rushing it, dumb-ass. "You are too quick for your own good," Jacob instructed Wys. Wystern didn't reply, just grinned his teeth and tried to contain the pain of his mistakes. |