Dawn of the Nephilim

27. To fight part III

"All right, now to continue." Ronan felt a faint smile creep across his face. The moment had passed, and he was in for another long and demanding day. "Something funny Ronan?" He felt a blush rise to his cheeks. "No teacher." "Good." She really was not going to allow him to become cheeky it seemed. With a supreme effort of will, he managed to prevent himself from heaving another sigh.

"Alright, your next assignment is a lot easier. Attack me Ronan." A secretive smile crept across her face, and little twinkles graced her eyes at his astonishment. Just when I thought I had started to get height of her. "I'm sorry, what?" It was hard for him to make an intelligent impression these days. "Attack me Ronan. Since yesterday afternoon we have just been sitting around and talking. It will be good for us to finally get some exercise. So go to your swamp boat and retrieve your spear or quarterstaff, and attack me. Easy peasy, as they say." Ronan still wasn't sure if she was serious. Is this another test? "But teacher...." "If I am your teacher this is not the time to question me, Ronan. Go to your swamp-skimmer and retrieve either your quarterstaff or your spear." Ronan got to his feet and grumblingly made his way to his swamp-skimmer. He kicked an unsuspecting pebble into the water as he was behind the bush, out of sight for Eloï'inda. It made an only slightly satisfying sploosh. He hurt his toe a little in the process, and that soured his mood even further.

When he got to his swamp-skimmer he retrieved both the fishing spear and the quarterstaff, holding them in front of him at arm's length. After a little indecisiveness, he decided to go for the quarterstaff, since he was undoubtedly more skilled with it, and it was the safer option. Quarterstaffs hurt, but they don't cut. He made his way back to Eloï'inda, who was standing in the middle of the clearing of the island. Her garments, blending in with the island's soil and foliage at the moment, hung over her body like a normal dress, concealing little of the shapes underneath. Eloï'inda raised her eyebrows as she obviously noted his embarrassment and when a little smile crept over her face for just an instant, his mood really turned into a thunderstorm. "Alright, I have chosen my quarterstaff, now what?"

A mockingly surprised expression slid over her face, and she said: "Why, hit me of course. And don't hold back." Ronan eyed her warily. "So you are serious." "Yes I am serious, and now quit stalling." Ronan did not lose his wariness as he cautiously got into a fighting stance in front of her. His grip on his quarterstaff felt clammy when he remembered all the things he had already seen Eloï'inda could do. She could gut me like a fish. He knew there was only one cure for nervousness, and with a sigh he accepted his faith. Suddenly he lurched out with a straight blow to her head, thinking that she could easily duck. She did not move, she just opened her eyes wide and an innocent expression slid over her face. Just before he reached her face he managed to halt his blow. The tendrils in his shoulder almost popped from the strain. She reproachfully furrowed her eyebrows, grabbed his staff and ripped it from his hands with ease, almost pulling him of balance. He cursed. With lightning speed she started twirling the staff, spinning it around herself as she stepped and turned. Without him even seeing it coming, she suddenly lurched out with it, stopping it a hairs breadth from his nose. A small gust of wind streamed past his face, forcing a dry swallow out of him. "You held back Ronan. I thought I made clear that you should not. Again." He growled in frustration. She wanted him to go all-out? She could get what she wished for, with extra. Grabbing his staff, he walked back a few paces and got into a fighting stance again.

As fast as he could he made the same movement as he had done the first time, and hit towards her head at full force. He expected her to duck this time. To his astonishment, again, she did not avoid his blow, and with a feeling of dread and under the sound of a nasty crunch, he hit her head with full force. Oh no, that is a killing blow. She spun around in the air once, and then she dropped to the ground where she lay still. With shaking arms he let his staff fall to the ground and he fell to his knees next to her. "No, no, no", were the only words he could get past his throat. What have I done. Desperation grabbed a hold of him. He could not transport two incapacitated women into the village. He could probably not even survive without the guidance of Eloï'inda. She had to live! He gently took her face in his hands and turned it towards him. Then, to his astonishment she opened her eyes again, and smiled. "Don't take liberties with the incapacitated Ronan."

As she opened her mouth to talk she winced, and worked her jaw where a purple bruise was building. "First lesson of combat, Graie can get hurt." His hands were still shaking as she got to her feet again, turned her back to him and casually stretched her limbs. "Please don't do that to me." his voice was cracking and he felt tears burning behind his eyes. "Please don't make me think I have killed you." An expression of alarmed pity slid across her face as she turned to him. "I apologize Ronan, I had not realized that it would affect you so. Do not worry. You have a stronger punch than I had anticipated, but a Graie is not killed so easily." As if to affirm her claim, the bruise that had been forming on the left side of her face disappeared as if it were no more than a patch of shade. "I shall not do that to you again Ronan, but remember this lesson. Graie can get hurt, but a wound that is very nasty in one place, can have almost no effect if spread out over the body. I am truly sorry to pressure you so; calling what I am doing an unorthodox crash course would be too kind a description. But it is imperative that you learn, and psychological shocks are the fastest mechanism to ensure that you do." Ronan just gave a weak nod. His hands finally started to stop trembling.