Summer 10 116
Caelum got childish excitement as he walked through the dojo doorway, but he used willpower to control his unrestrained feelings for the time being. As a swordsman, his need for growth has progressively deepened, driving him to strive for even more mastery in his lethal craft.
Still lingering in the back of his thoughts was ill ease. He came to know that Maeria was not just his competition but also really much more. He thought it was fitting that his experiences brought him back here since, after all, he was a dragon.
He joined the class as they started striking test dummies, slipping into a stance with familiar ease. He releases a breath of tension from his core as his weight is equally divided between his legs, which were split shoulder-width apart. He felt nostalgic as he gripped and released the practice sword's hilt. Subsequently, in a single motion as smooth as liquid, he struck his way over his body, causing the dummy to tremble from head to toe. There seemed to be a hint of holiness about it.
He knew without having to look that his cut would have ripped through flesh like a thin piece of paper. Caelum didn't bother sheathing his practice blade right away. Instead, he flung the sword back across its body without hesitation. The dummy's body was hit by another causing Caelum to feel his back muscles strain. Although, he had come to enjoy the agony.
When he felt sufficiently warmed up, he strode up to the other students, met one of their gazes, and nodded his head while keeping a safe distance from the others. His sparring parter would be one with a strong jaw, dark eyes, and untidy black hair that hung limply around his shoulders. The man gave Caelum a blank look before assuming his stance, which allowed him to easily go from kneeling to standing. His posture was perfect and effortless. The two stood there still for a very long time.
His opponent drew and delivered a devastating cut intended to capture Caelum by the neck. The practice sword was dull, so the danger was reduced, but Caelum knew full well how stupid it would have been to misjudge his opponent or the weapon he carried. Crushed throats were just as painful as losing one's head and might happen from a hit to the neck.
Before he could even get his practice blade into his sheathe, Caelum swiftly reacted with an upward parry that drove the lethal attempt over up and over his head. As the instructor and students excitedly waited to see who would give up first in the nerve-wracking swordplay competition, all that could be heard in the hallway was the sounds of breathing. Caelum willed himself not to notice the salty perspiration that ran in an uneven pattern down his forehead since he was running out of time to blink anyhow. Moving slowly, his opponent tried to flank Caelum from the left by shuffling his feet.
The instructor then took him by surprise. The cunning demon was obviously up to no good and said, "You and you, join the battle."
Two more pupils came forward. The two seemed to be just as athletic as the first, with their chests exposed to the musty dojo air. Though Caelum gave his instructor a glance, the guy didn't seem to notice. "Remember to focus on all three of them, yes? That is the secret to winning a battle with several opponents. They're beginners, so it should be easy for someone competent with a blade."
If Caelum had had more time, he would have snorted in contempt, but as it was, the two newcomers were jabbing at him from both sides, giving him little space to either fight or avoid at the same time. In the meanwhile, one with spiky hair struck with a powerful overhead stroke. First mistake, Caelum smirked as he saw the lad falter in his gait. It gave him the opportunity he needed, and he seized it without thinking twice. He swung around to face all three of them at once, half drawing his practice sword and slamming the butt of the hilt into one's stomach. The other two pupils sidestepped their tripping buddy and then attacked him with hastily timed blows intended to divert his attention with any one of them.
Rather of defending himself, he stabbed one in the stomach with his practice sword and just about made it in time to dodge the second blow that was coming his way. At some point during the fight, all three of them encircled him, and the feeling he had experienced upon entering the dojo came back.
Everything was moving again without any much hesitation. Caelum delivered a forceful blow, causing a would-be hit to ricochet off his practice blade as he quickly parried and released the other's sword. His focus changed almost immediately, pushing the enemy that had been temporarily dismissed from his mind. Once again, the second pupil was thrusting, but this time he was doing it while kneeling, giving his blow more force and speed. Caelum easily flowed from his initial cut into another rising slash that disarmed his opponent since he didn't have time to sheath his practice sword and draw it again. The lactic acid in his muscles felt like liquid fire.
For a brief while, the agony overshadowed his thoughts as he quickly remembered that there was a third opponentand he quickly turned to best defend his back when...
"Enough!"
The instructor, maintaining his aggressive attitude, gazed at him with steely eyes. Caelum found himself staring down the length of a blade, the tip just touching his nose. If given the opportunity, the novice would have delivered his hit with ferocious efficiency. Caelum had ultimately failed, but it was to be expected. A three on one wasn't exactly easy.
Following the instructor's dismissal of the students, Caelum briefly believed that he was going to speak with the instructor. However, in an instant, the man left Caelum to brood over his defeat.
Caelum didn't see his instructor again until the afternoon session. Unaware of his mood's impact on the class the older man paced back and forth. The instructor abruptly halted and shouted out directions. Caelum moved to the center and made an effort to clear his head of the constantly buzzing series of ideas that were trying to break through his focus. He attempted this here because, in his experience, it was helpful to concentrate on little aspects during meditation before moving on to bigger, more intricate ones.
He felt the weight of his practice sword heavy in its sheathe. He felt the feathery pressure of his clothes as they rubbed against his skin, and eventually his attention settled on the sensation of the wood under his feet. The unsettling waves of his thoughts appeared to have dissipated, leaving him with an impenetrable inner serenity.
Then, the combat started up again. Three assailants circled around him as if they were dancing. The air was electrified by the impression that one of them was wielding a real blade even though none had yet pulled out their practice weapon. He shuffled quickly behind him, giving him enough time to pivot and swerve to avoid the first attacker, who made a hesitant lunge. Caelum stayed balanced on the balls of his feet, eyes darting from one spot to another, ears pricked out to notice any minute variations, and his feet even attempted to detect any additional weight placed on the ground. "It's nerve-racking to wait. I wish they would hurry up and try all at once."
One of the men had a scar covering his left eye. He lunged forward with an unsteady swing, but was quickly jerked back as Caelum hardly had his practice sword out. Nobody seemed to want to harm him.
"What's wrong? All three of you scared of a dragon?" His remark was iresome. Suddenly, they moved forward, their postures stiff and determined as though they had decided to die rather than lose their dignity. That was the attitude that a swordsman should have toward every fight; whether in training or in the real thing, resolution was unavoidable regardless of the situation. Caelum recalled the form's foundation as they prepared to strike together. Two attackers had to stay in front of him.
With his fighting instincts taking control, he took two short steps back and positioned two of the assailants in front of them, their features blurring to blurry faces. According to the instructor, the third person was always aware of them and lingered vaguely behind him. You might die if you lose sight of even one opponent. That was the last coherent idea that went through his head before he lost himself in a frenzied cacophony of battling. With dizzying speed, he brought both of the blades in front of him close to his chest. With experienced dexterity, his hands dropped upon his practice blade, and it effortlessly slithered out. He delivered the thrust to his right with his initial rising slash, but instead of remaining where he should have, he let his swing's momentum take him a few inches to the right, giving him more time to respond to the second thrust.
This opponent was already behind his guard, so he had to take an additional step back and to the side. This was a dangerous move since it altered his estimation of the direction of his opponent's third strike. He deflected the second thrust and forced himself to slide barely below his knee, so he didn't have time to consider it as he swiftly pulled himself down in an uncomfortable half stroke. To his dismay, the instructor had previously put Caelum in a similar situation and he had forgotten about the third opponent. He didn't make the same error this time.
"Hiyah!" he shouted out as he whirled around on one foot and just managed to see the last guy approaching him with his practice blade poised above. The two stepped toward each other just a small bit, then slashed as fast and hard as they could. Caelum grinned to himself in private.
In terms of defense, he had done a good job. Even against the most aggressive novices, Caelum's agility and speed gave him the upper hand. He was proud to demonstrate this anytime the opportunity presented itself. With an even tighter core, he grunted and swung his weight downward, striking the last attacker's practice sword with such power that it skittered to the ground, leaving the guy helpless. Caelum sheathed his sword without waiting for the teacher's commendation. The instructor then approached the little circle and gave him a tight grin and a pat on the back.
"I'm glad to see that you've improved, at least a little."
"Not every assault will come from all directions, and you should generally want to keep everything in front of you since your mind will be less distracted by a small field of view, right?" The instructor gave an explanation while he paced back and forth. His formerly sour attitude had totally vanished, replaced by an intense passion that caused some of the other pupils to forget their past mistakes.
"To put it briefly, this kind of defense calls for quickness, strength, and accuracy," he said. Three rules that apply to all swordplay, but particularly to this one."
The instructor's picky, scholarly demeanor softened before the lesson, becoming more ferocious but yet not quite like a blood-spattered warrior. With an enigmatic face, he dropped himself into his stance, having already grasped a practice blade. Caelum was astounded by his teacher's posture. It seemed to be done with natural ease while keeping good technique, a combination he knew was still beyond the bounds of his capabilities. Though Caelum could not quite figure out when the practice sword had been pulled, the air erupted with energy as the instructor delivered three rapid slashes before sheathing it and freezing like a statue once again.
It was an amazing spectacle to say teh least. "That's essentially what you want to strive for, isn't that right? The secret is complete control over your body to enhance your ability to utilize every muscle, including your core and peripheral awareness. Obviously, the first step would be to increase your muscular mass. Even you, dragon, cannot always rely on your ability to fly," The instructor proposed with a well-known twinkle in his eye.
An attendant came to a halt in front of Caelum, offering him a large, heavy blade. With caution, he grasped the massive weapon by its hilt and felt the weight of the blade. As the attendant moved aside, the tip hit the ground. Caelum's veins were pounding so intensely that his muscles trembled as he tried to raise the swor'ds tip off the ground.
The practice weapon's point eventually rose a few inches off the ground, causing his abs to clench so tightly he thought his spine would break from the strain. Did the instructor really want them to swing this thing? Similar moans of struggle could be heard not far away, but Caelum was unable to look away from his job until his knuckles grew white.
"Okay, so some people have managed to get the sword off the ground. So Swing!" The instructor yelled, seemingly blind to his pupils' pain.
With a yell, Caelum swung up with the heavy weapon, almost stopping it from launching out of his hands as the fast-moving object almost knocked him off his feet. As he trembled in anticipation of his instructor calling for the next swing, sweat coated every square inch of his skin. What seemed like a brief moment stretched into an unending sequence of existences until the next cry, "Swing!" Eventually, over the low murmur of choked curses and vows to behave well once the session ended, rang out.
The sound of Caelum's weapon, and others, clanged loudly through the dojo's hallways as he struck down with the heavy, weighted practice sword. However, this time he was unable to hold it suspended, and another wordless roar tore itself from his voice cords.
Caelum let out a shrill shout and raised his heavy weapon's tip into the air, feeling the unbearably intense agony shoot through every nerve in his body. He stood shaky and stiff, the demolition-sized weapon shaking in his hands. He had been the only one to pick up the practice sword from the ground, so his hands were slick with sweat and he had to blink many times to get the stinging salt out of his eyes.
"Okay, that's enough." The heavy weapons and many students immediately fell to the ground as the instructor yelled once more.
The instructor smiled reflectively to himself, as if he were reliving a scene from his long-gone glory days, and then he moved toward one of the several entrances that went farther into the dojo. He threw off a nonchalant "I'll see you all tomorrow," before heading off.
Even waking up the next day had been a horror. It had been a spiritual challenge to drag oneself weary through the dojo's doorway, and now that the instructor had said he desired to stray from his typical training regimen, Caelum found himself questioning whether he would be able to complete this class. When he woke up early in the morning, a bruise across his chest where he must have hit himself with the heavy weapon had flared up, and his right arm had been cramping the whole night.
Listlessly, Caelum mused, "At least it's a nice day," as another nagging urge to just sit in the nearby woodlands and contemplate struck him. The instructor brutally smothered that out with the usual booming baritone.
"Naturally, after yesterday's training, I know you're all at your breaking point, but I must ask that you persevere" he said, penetrating the bone-tired group that half-stood, half-slumped in front of him. Behind him, on the dais that now stood uselessly projecting from the earth, Caelum wondered if this place was due for some renovations. The poor state of the dojo diminished the man's aura of authority. However, it's possible that the instructor intended for it to happen.
"You will practice parrying with the heavy weapon today."
"What?"
"I want to go home!"
"Are you serious?"
Many of the students sent many furious glances in the direction of the doorway, as if the idea of leaving now had come to them on a melodic song drifting in from outside, drowning out the unending stream of other complaints with dejected groans and irritated growls. It was just Caelum who remained silent, motionless, and without emotion. He had shut his eyes to suppress the instinctive fear that arose from realizing what his teacher had said, but when he cleared his thoughts during his meditation sessions, he discovered that it was no use. They had wanted to call themselves swordsmen, they had embarked on this journey hoping to learn something worthwhile, and in the end, they were the ones who would decide whether or not they would succeed.
He saw the instructor nodding his head in accord as if he had read their thoughts as he opened his eyes. Caelum shuddered to believe the Instructor was so perceptive. "You can leave, of course, if you don't want to participate. I'll only train those who want to train," the instructor said quietly above the ruckus, avoiding the obvious gesture of raising his voice to command attention.
After then, the air became hazy with uncertainty. As they deliberated among themselves whether to go and, if so, who would be the first to bravely defy their master, the students looked at each other. At first, it appeared as if no one would agree, but eventually someone parted ways with his dojo brethren and marched out into the sunshine while glaring angrily. Before they too departed, the others turned to see the instructor, whose expression remained expressionless. Caelum remained still until the big hall was devoid of any further footfall.
"Are you prepared to train now?"
"Yes, teacher." There was a resigned acceptance that made the whole class feel oddly at ease. They knew this was for their own good.
The instructor gave the order, "Pick up the heavy weapon from the corner and meet me in the center there."
