Post by Baird on Feb 5, 2017 15:27:42 GMT -8
"Duck left! No! Duck right! Wait, it’s a feint! BLOCK!!!!" The frantic orders came one after another with hardly a breath between.
"Would you shut u- oof!" Baird was distracted and soon found himself on the receiving end of a kick to his gut. Falling on his back he let out a low guttural grown of pain before his opponent capitalized bringing a blade to bear at his neck. "Blast!" Baird sighed as his armor and sword dissipated into shining white crystals rising up and fading into the sky.
"Come on then! Up and at it!" His opponent took his hand and pulled him onto his feet before patting him off. "You're a great swordsman Baird, damn well better than me even, you just need to get a little something more about ya. Well, that and stop getting distracted." Gerald, his instructor for the evening, offered his advice before shooting a look at their spectator. "Of course you are of little assistance Dom."
"What? Me?" Dom posed in fake indignation. "I was merely the spectator and offered my advice as I saw It."
"If you have that much advice, why not take the fight on for me?" Baird teased. "That kick was a doozy though." he placed a hand over his gut feeling like he needed to hold his innards in.
Gerald laughed mirthfully and agreed. "I may have put a little too much power into it honestly, you had me on the ropes and I didn't fancy loosing!" Baird smiled softly at the large man. No matter how many times Baird failed Gerald was always there to help him back on his feet. Perhaps they got along as well as they did because were both under constant scrutiny. Baird was the prince, son of King Leon the Crimson, and with that came many expectations. Not only was living up to the legacy of that great man a feat all of its own, it was near impossible for Baird to compare to the average hero. As for Gerald he came from a distant land in the deserts and it showed. His skin was dark and his hair a deep red and wild with tribal scarring on his arms. He was an outsider to the Eastern Reaches and though he proved himself in many battles he has had an uphill battle for trust.
"Had him on the ropes, you hear that nonsense Baird? Had him on the ropes!" Dom was practically shouting his disbelief at him. "Don't let him butter you up, he controlled that entire match!"
"He's right," Baird admitted. "You were falling backwards and I thought I had you. I let my blade rise too high and you had that opening for a kick. I fell into a feint and the craftier fighter won. I should have been more decisive in pointing my blade."
Gerald rubbed the back of his head. "Er, well, I guess you did see through it all in retrospect, but don't be so hard on yourself about It."
"I am not being hard. I am being honest and receptive to improvements," Baird corrected. "Now, one area I could use more improvement in is my dagger work." With an outstretched hand Baird connected with the Arcane, pure uncontaminated magic. Unwieldy and untempered power he found what he needed and drew it out from beyond into reality. In its place he shaped it into a dagger. All of this was like entering a dark room of energy and pulling the item from the void but to others it was more instantaneous than that.
Wrapping his fingers around the hilt he took a stance and readied to go another round with his mentor. "I think we've done enough for today. Honestly the last two hours were more of a formality than anything." Gerald sheathed his sword and turned to Dom. "I need to speak with Baird in private I am afraid."
“Huh?” Dom looked simultaneously confused and concerned but silently nodded. “Right. I’ll uh, go run the recruits through some drill.” Dom lingered curiously before disappearing into the barracks.
“Is something the matter?” Baird questioned.
“You intend on joining the tournament this year too do you not?” Gerald cut straight to the point.
Baird eyed him appraisingly for a moment trying to figure out his angle but he suspected he already knew what it was. “You wish for me not to compete don’t you? I have to participate if I am to ever be a knight!” Baird was arguing and pleading simultaneously. “I thought you understood!” Baird suddenly felt a knot in his chest and spoke rashly.
“Shut up and listen!” Gerald barked gruffly. “I am not going to tell you what to do but I want you to THINK for a moment. If you compete and lose this will be for the fourth time.”
‘Thanks for the reminder,’ Baird thought irritably.
“Your father does not expect you to make it.” He stated plainly, the words were too cruel to Baird’s ears, “But if you were to work within the military and truly dedicate to it imagine what you could do? You would excel far and away there.”
“You want me to settle for second best, to become the man who could not make it and gave up?”
“No, Baird, I want you to focus your energies where you will have a future. Imagine a scenario where you did get accepted, what then? You made it but you would be the weakest member and still have no respect!”
Baird gritted his teeth and threw away the knife he made it too shattering into crystal lights. “You think I am so pathetic and weak, just like everyone else! Why did you waste your time training me if this was all I’m good for!?”
Gerald sighed, “I’m no good with brats, and you know that, so stop behaving as one.” He looked down his nose at him exuding force. It was stunning to Baird and chilling. “You felt it.” He could see the wavering fear in Baird’s eyes, even if he did not show it on his face. He could see it in the subtleties of his body. “That was me putting forth a mere fraction of my energy.”
Baird hung his head in shame, both at his outburst and at himself. “I, I am sorry.”
Gerald smiled and put a hand on Baird’s head before ruffling his white hair. “Look, I won’t tell you to dream or try for it, but you need to take a wider perspective of things and how you fit into it. You think your place in the world is the Order, but what you’re doing is blinding yourself to your true potential.”
“My true potential?” Baird questioned.
“Well… I can’t tell you what it is, but I can give you a nudge in the right direction. You should travel to Arcadia and see the world. You’ve spent far too much time in Eredil and it has narrowed you. New experiences and perspectives will help you go so much further than my training will.” Gerald was giving the young man a great deal to think about but he had no reason to stay and see what his conclusion would be. With a wave of his hand he began to leave. “Oh, as of today I am done training you, I don’t think there is more I can teach you.”
Baird watched unmoving. He could not remove his eyes from the man’s back, the patterns of his long-coat burned into his mind. It was an image that he would always remember going forward. As he was now he would forever be chasing his coattail and aspiring to be like him, not actually surpassing him. Baird smiled ruefully. He hated to admit it but Gerald was right. Shouting after him Baird made a declaration, “I WILL GO! WHEN I RETURN I WILL HAVE FOUND MY PATH!!!” Gerald never looked back and with a wave of his hand he said all he needed to.
"Would you shut u- oof!" Baird was distracted and soon found himself on the receiving end of a kick to his gut. Falling on his back he let out a low guttural grown of pain before his opponent capitalized bringing a blade to bear at his neck. "Blast!" Baird sighed as his armor and sword dissipated into shining white crystals rising up and fading into the sky.
"Come on then! Up and at it!" His opponent took his hand and pulled him onto his feet before patting him off. "You're a great swordsman Baird, damn well better than me even, you just need to get a little something more about ya. Well, that and stop getting distracted." Gerald, his instructor for the evening, offered his advice before shooting a look at their spectator. "Of course you are of little assistance Dom."
"What? Me?" Dom posed in fake indignation. "I was merely the spectator and offered my advice as I saw It."
"If you have that much advice, why not take the fight on for me?" Baird teased. "That kick was a doozy though." he placed a hand over his gut feeling like he needed to hold his innards in.
Gerald laughed mirthfully and agreed. "I may have put a little too much power into it honestly, you had me on the ropes and I didn't fancy loosing!" Baird smiled softly at the large man. No matter how many times Baird failed Gerald was always there to help him back on his feet. Perhaps they got along as well as they did because were both under constant scrutiny. Baird was the prince, son of King Leon the Crimson, and with that came many expectations. Not only was living up to the legacy of that great man a feat all of its own, it was near impossible for Baird to compare to the average hero. As for Gerald he came from a distant land in the deserts and it showed. His skin was dark and his hair a deep red and wild with tribal scarring on his arms. He was an outsider to the Eastern Reaches and though he proved himself in many battles he has had an uphill battle for trust.
"Had him on the ropes, you hear that nonsense Baird? Had him on the ropes!" Dom was practically shouting his disbelief at him. "Don't let him butter you up, he controlled that entire match!"
"He's right," Baird admitted. "You were falling backwards and I thought I had you. I let my blade rise too high and you had that opening for a kick. I fell into a feint and the craftier fighter won. I should have been more decisive in pointing my blade."
Gerald rubbed the back of his head. "Er, well, I guess you did see through it all in retrospect, but don't be so hard on yourself about It."
"I am not being hard. I am being honest and receptive to improvements," Baird corrected. "Now, one area I could use more improvement in is my dagger work." With an outstretched hand Baird connected with the Arcane, pure uncontaminated magic. Unwieldy and untempered power he found what he needed and drew it out from beyond into reality. In its place he shaped it into a dagger. All of this was like entering a dark room of energy and pulling the item from the void but to others it was more instantaneous than that.
Wrapping his fingers around the hilt he took a stance and readied to go another round with his mentor. "I think we've done enough for today. Honestly the last two hours were more of a formality than anything." Gerald sheathed his sword and turned to Dom. "I need to speak with Baird in private I am afraid."
“Huh?” Dom looked simultaneously confused and concerned but silently nodded. “Right. I’ll uh, go run the recruits through some drill.” Dom lingered curiously before disappearing into the barracks.
“Is something the matter?” Baird questioned.
“You intend on joining the tournament this year too do you not?” Gerald cut straight to the point.
Baird eyed him appraisingly for a moment trying to figure out his angle but he suspected he already knew what it was. “You wish for me not to compete don’t you? I have to participate if I am to ever be a knight!” Baird was arguing and pleading simultaneously. “I thought you understood!” Baird suddenly felt a knot in his chest and spoke rashly.
“Shut up and listen!” Gerald barked gruffly. “I am not going to tell you what to do but I want you to THINK for a moment. If you compete and lose this will be for the fourth time.”
‘Thanks for the reminder,’ Baird thought irritably.
“Your father does not expect you to make it.” He stated plainly, the words were too cruel to Baird’s ears, “But if you were to work within the military and truly dedicate to it imagine what you could do? You would excel far and away there.”
“You want me to settle for second best, to become the man who could not make it and gave up?”
“No, Baird, I want you to focus your energies where you will have a future. Imagine a scenario where you did get accepted, what then? You made it but you would be the weakest member and still have no respect!”
Baird gritted his teeth and threw away the knife he made it too shattering into crystal lights. “You think I am so pathetic and weak, just like everyone else! Why did you waste your time training me if this was all I’m good for!?”
Gerald sighed, “I’m no good with brats, and you know that, so stop behaving as one.” He looked down his nose at him exuding force. It was stunning to Baird and chilling. “You felt it.” He could see the wavering fear in Baird’s eyes, even if he did not show it on his face. He could see it in the subtleties of his body. “That was me putting forth a mere fraction of my energy.”
Baird hung his head in shame, both at his outburst and at himself. “I, I am sorry.”
Gerald smiled and put a hand on Baird’s head before ruffling his white hair. “Look, I won’t tell you to dream or try for it, but you need to take a wider perspective of things and how you fit into it. You think your place in the world is the Order, but what you’re doing is blinding yourself to your true potential.”
“My true potential?” Baird questioned.
“Well… I can’t tell you what it is, but I can give you a nudge in the right direction. You should travel to Arcadia and see the world. You’ve spent far too much time in Eredil and it has narrowed you. New experiences and perspectives will help you go so much further than my training will.” Gerald was giving the young man a great deal to think about but he had no reason to stay and see what his conclusion would be. With a wave of his hand he began to leave. “Oh, as of today I am done training you, I don’t think there is more I can teach you.”
Baird watched unmoving. He could not remove his eyes from the man’s back, the patterns of his long-coat burned into his mind. It was an image that he would always remember going forward. As he was now he would forever be chasing his coattail and aspiring to be like him, not actually surpassing him. Baird smiled ruefully. He hated to admit it but Gerald was right. Shouting after him Baird made a declaration, “I WILL GO! WHEN I RETURN I WILL HAVE FOUND MY PATH!!!” Gerald never looked back and with a wave of his hand he said all he needed to.
