Perhaps Deceptively
Written by Becky
Posted on Mon, Jun 14, 2010 22:29 pm
“Drystan Ihvaein.” He paused slightly, appearing to consider a question he left unasked. “I have a good familiarity with the sword, having spent most of my life as a young man being taught its use. I have combat experience also in several areas if that is found to be relevant at all. I am, as you put it, here as a…refresher…in such things,” he finished matter-of-factly.
Here was another trainee who would be bored silly today. Elaryl did teach more than just parts of the sword and how to hold it on the first day, but it certainly was not much more. This man in particular had seemed aloof during her introduction to the class; she could not particularly tell if he was listening to her or not, but the introduction was mainly meant to calm any grand illusions held by less experienced trainees, and to let the more experienced students know right away that they should be prepared for Basics.
There was something confusing about this man. For one thing, she would have guessed that he was older than her, but at the same time, there was something about him that felt close to her own age. Secondly, his hair hung to his shoulders, almost unkempt, but every so often when he moved his head, she saw the glisten of metal. Something was woven into his hair—but Arafellin bells were woven into braids. And his facial hair was scruffy, but short. No bells.
Well, it wasn’t important. He had asked no questions, and he was here for the same reason as anyone else who had familiarity with a sword—because he had to be. And if he really was Arafellin, which she was unsure about, she was willing to bet that it had also been a lifetime for him since he had handled one sword instead of the traditional two. So the class would still be good for him.
She nodded and moved on to the next Trainee.
OOC: Thank you, and thanks for posting to Part One; Part Two is now up, so move on!
In reply to Reeds of Steel: A Familiar Friend[show]/[hide]
The last week or so of his new existence had been an interesting one he was forced to, albeit begrudgingly, admit to himself in the late watches of the night. It was not so much that things had become overly better, the previous issues that had wrestled his mind into the turbulent waters of insanity and out across the tranquil ones of relative peace had quietened considerably. He could not remember the last time the apparition of his disowned father had appeared to laughingly mock his weaknesses, and even the voice of his late wife had not whispered into his consciousness either. All in all he was more stable, or would have been if it were not for the other wretched demon in his life – alcohol. Even against rules he could not bring himself to completely throw it aside. He had spent too long using it as a crutch, he would openly admit, and he was not willing to stand alone just yet.
In an attempt to take his mind off of such matters, and the related issues they brought forwards into the light for him, he had chosen to try something he had not experience for some time – a lesson. A lesson in something constructive rather than upon the premise of bitter revenge and terrible loss. If he was forced to let his arrogance take the lead in his assessment of such a matter he might had considered it pointless. Countless times he had been forced to fight both man and beast with the sword and its uses were by no means unknown to him. However, it was something warmly familiar in its own way and familiarity was something that would firmly anchor himself into the present rather than the past. He could lose himself in the motions, feel with every movement as if he were completely alone and at peace.
An ironic supposition it would seem, that a weapon of war and death designed for cruelty can bring something so positively passive he thought to himself as he waited, a short space away from all the gathered others, for the instruction to commence.
As the instructor began upon the first foray of her dialogue he let the words wash over him, a stone in the middle f a flowing stream. Her instructions for the lesson did not take as high a precedence for him as the actual performing. He did not ignore her words, however, merely kept them as an aside. He was doing this for himself rather than to please instructors and gain merit with them. IF they both became one and the same though he would not be found complaining afterwards. As she came to a close it seemed rather easily done and he saw no point in telling falsities – though the whole truth he would not, of course, reveal.
“Drystan Ihvaein,” he began, pausing and wondering how many would be able to connect the name Ihvaein with lands in Arafel. “I have a good familiarity with the sword, having spent most of my life as a young man being taught its use. I have combat experience also in several areas if that is found to be relevant at all. I am, as you put it, here as a…refresher…in such things” he finished. There was no arrogance or bragging in what he said, merely statement of fact in a soft, solid way.
That done he settled back into his state of perpetual absorption and internal analysis. Hopefully, for him, the lesson would be a fruitful one even if he did not technically learn anything particularly new.
OOC: Sorry for the delay, RL has given me a bit of a surprise battering the last week or so. But here all the same now :)
