Dawn of the Nephilim

23. An unexpected guest part III

"Exactly" Eloï'inda cut in. "And we'll have to make good use of those five days. Now that Wion'dair...Actually, what name do you prefer son of brendon?" Windar flinched, seemingly surprised by the sudden question. "Wion'dair is fine messenger. It brings back... memories" he said in a soft tone, a light gleaming in his eyes. "Very well then. Now that Wion'dair has showed up, I think I shall be better able to train you Ronan. From what I have seen so far, he will be a more than worthy sparring partner for you. That is, if you agree on helping to train Ronan?" Windar gave a slight nod in confirmation, and Eloï'inda continued. "First I have another question for you Wion'dair. What is your level of consciousness?" The question sounded strange in Ronan's ears, but Windar was quick enough to respond. "I had reached the third dan of The'oria and fifth dan of the second Pra'xis tier messenger."

Surprise slid across Eloï'inda's face, and she eyed Windar with a newfound respect. "That is good then, excellent even. You shall be able to help Ronan advance quickly."

"So I shall try messenger."

Ronan was slightly frustrated that he continuously didn't understand anything they were talking about, and felt a bit like he was only allowed to jump when they yelled frog. Eloï'inda continued relentlessly. "The way I see it, we have at this point three mayor goals with regard to Ronan's training. The first being increasing his understanding about connections in general. The second being increasing his understanding about his connection with Tiar'Mara. And the third being increasing his level of consciousness of the flows of energy, so that he may control them in- and outside of his body. Do you agree Wion'dair?" "I do messenger." "Good, then let us begin. Wion'diar, I think it would be good if we could first offer a demonstration of enhanced physical prowess to Ronan, so that he understands what goal he is working towards. Will you assist me?" In response, Windar got to his feet.

"What weapon would you like us to use messenger?" "Let us use the blades." Windar stretched his limbs, and rid himself of his bow and buckler. Tugging his necklace inside of his coat, he unsheathed the two swords at his sides in one flowing motion. The blades were not blazing with energy like Eloï'inda's, but neither did they seem entirely normal. He swung his blades around as he spun in a circle with the ease of practiced motion, and settled into a crouch. "I am ready messenger." Eloï'inda just made a slight movement and in her hands appeared again the two blades, seething and roiling with reddish energy. "Good" she said. And she too got into a crouch, her eyes taking on a slightly reddish hue. She sure does seem to enjoy fighting for a creature that supposedly dislikes war. "Please do not expand your consciousness initially Wion'dair. Fight me with just your natural abilities. It is important that Ronan can see the difference." "As you wish, messenger." She nodded, and turned towards Ronan, who had seated himself some distance away, next to the motionless body of Tiar'mara for the moment, in such a way that he had a good view of both adversaries.

"Pay attention Ronan. It is important that you see what is happening." Oh, I was just planning on taking a nap here. "Yes teacher." Eloï'inda turned her attention back to Windar. "Alright then, let us begin." Eloï'inda donned the aura of a predator, ready to pounce its prey. Her entire being spoke of danger, and she seemed in the eyes of Ronan the prettiest most terrifying thing he had ever seen. She slowly started to circle Windar, who carefully watched her as he followed her motions, ostensibly calm. Turning along, to prevent being flanked, he left no gaps Ronan could identify. Ronan wondered if he could stay calm if Eloï'inda would stand against him with that dangerous gleam in her eyes and those two blades that seemed almost eager to cut something. When they engaged, there was little warning. A small movement in her white hair, a slight flicker in her eyes.

Eloï'inda lurched out with incredible speed, but Windar was faster still. Without even flinching, he intercepted her hit, his legs rooted in place. The dry clanging of blades meeting reverberated through the air, lingering for seconds, deepening as the blades slowed their shivering. Windar and Eloï'inda stood with swords interlocked for an indeterminate moment, a dead silence falling as the blades grew still, leaving only the rustle of leaves from the waving trees that dotted the island. Eloï'inda smiled. "Good." Then she pushed Windar back several steps and attacked once more Twirling the blades in rapid, circling patterns, she darted at Windar, who was soon sorely pressed and whose moves seemed slow and cumbersome in comparison. Her fighting style reminded Ronan of a pack of wolves assailing a large buck if nothing else. Light on her feet, she was dancing and jumping around a trepidatious Windar, striking with a speed and cunning that made the blades seem like looming vipers. Never touching, the weapons were going exactly where she aimed them. Windar held his own, but only just. A small opening, an arm lifted a little too slow; no inaccuracy remained unexploited. A constant scraping and clanging like a carillon bore witness that she definitely wasn't going easy on him.

Windar started to sweat. He snarled as his face contorted into an expression of grim determination. Managing to maintain at least a semblance of form, he was slowly forced back across the island, one hard-won step at a time. Still, Eloï'inda steadily increased her speed. Her hair flailed about her like a silver curtain in heavy wind, and her shifting garments added to the effect. Her face became a fierce mask, with two blazing red eyes in which the fate of her opponent lay sealed. She hadn't even lost a drop of sweat yet. Do graie even sweat? Suddenly Eloï'inda ducked underneath one of Windar's swords, and while she put her hands to the ground swooped her leg from behind her in a spinning motion, seemingly unhindered by her dress. With this strange spin-kick, she knocked both of Windar's legs from underneath him. Windar's face betrayed alarm and surprise in equal measure.

Sympathizing, Ronan prepared to watch Windar come into contact with the ground like he had done so many times the day before. Only now his muscles had started to recuperate. The scene he had already prepared for in his mind did not play out as expected however. Even as he was in the air, Windar flipped his swords upside down, spun his body and slashed towards Eloï'inda with his right blade. Eloï'inda was much too quick to be hit in such a way, and he hit only air. But the momentum of his slash made that his body spun completely around, and this strange move left Windar sitting crouched on one knee, his blades extended in front of him in a defensive stance. His face was split in a grin as if he was surprised he had pulled it off.

Ronan's jaw unhinged as he stared at Windar in awe. That was incredible. Eloï'inda's reaction was slightly different. Even as Windar put his blades in his defensive position, she spun around again faster than his eye could follow, and her heel knocked Windar's head to the side, wiping the grin clean of his face. Windar finally went down like a rag doll, like Ronan had expected him to in the first place. Of course. Silence followed, and it took a while before the old man slowly started to stir again. As he gingerly came to his feet, he put a hand to the right side of his head, working his jaw. "Thank you for the lesson, messenger. It's been a while since anyone took me out like that. I may in fact be a little out of practice." "On the contrary, your skills are most impressive Wion'dair." He dipped his head, either mockingly or in genuine acknowledgment of the praise, then checked his mouth for any loose teeth. He seemed a bit sour, which Ronan found understandable.