12th of Vhalar, 718
Nav watched her step forward, her knife arm swinging around the side of her head to bury the dagger in the side of her skull. She tried to watch the movement, but her partner froze their attack and shook their head, “No, you cannot watch with your eyes, only your peripherals. You must feel the attack if you are to block it effectively. Try again.”
They returned to their original positions and Rey swung again. Navyri stared with focus at her opponent to make sure no other limbs would try and strike, the knife’s movement from the corner of her eye making her respond. She threw up a forearm, their arms grinding against one another before the blade could make contact.
“Good,” Rey praised after a few more drills, “You are learning quickly. Now, take your own blade and after blocking, attempt to bury it in my armpit or face. These are often exposed areas, more so, now that your opponent has allowed you to take control. If you can step into the attack and counter it, you can burst.”
“Burst?”
“Like… explode outward. This is the right word in Common, no? For those your own size, this will often stun them, make them fall back, or at the very least, give you a bit more ground to push back.”
“I think I understand.”
“Good, let’s try again.”
They repeated this process over and over, not stopping when Navyri believed she mastered it. (It has to be second nature’) Rey said, (Or a matter of life and death will just be a matter of how long until you die,) Nav leaned into this teaching, obsessing over every move she made, asking her instructor to keep going even after she was breathless and drenched in sweat. Finally, as Navyri took her stance one more time, Rey shook her head.
“You’re very quick, and you are one of the most brutal fighters I’ve ever had the pleasure to train,” the woman nodded approvingly, placing both hands on wide hips, “But you have neglected your strength. You need more power or any man or worth his salt has a chance of overpowering you. And the Ithecal?” Rey snorted, smirking, “Don’t get me started.”
Navyri nodded, pacing in a circle as she caught her breath, switching the grip of her dagger. She hated to admit it, but the woman wasn’t a liar, “You think I’m out of shape?” There was a bit of teasing in the voice, laced with admittance, “You’re not wrong… About the Ithecal.” She remembered the few she had ever seen, rarely coming across the reptilian race. But each one was almost double her size and could break her with a swing of their tail…
“I think you are coasting by on your stealth and cunning,” Rey always had a nice way of wording things, the limited time the two had known each other. It was the reason the temperamental Navyri liked her company. She could be blunt and yet managed to not offend, “When was the last time you did any strength training?” Navyri tried to think of the answer, but the momentary silence said enough. Rey was already grinning, “Put your daggers up and get on the ground. It’s push up time.” There was a dark delight in the trainer’s eye, “You’re going to love this.”
“But-“
“Ah, ah, ah! Do you want to get stronger or not?”
The Naer opened her mouth to retort, but groaned, lowering to her knees and then taking the proper stance. Hands shoulder width apart, legs and back straight. She felt the pull in her shoulders as her torso lowered, with Rey crouching and pushing upon her back to make sure she went deep enough. She was a woman, but there would be no mediocre efforts here. In battle, no one would go easy on you just because you had breasts. Nav had learned that well over the years and it was one of the few reasons she was a survivor.
“One… Two… Three…” With each rise, Navyri locked her elbows, exhaling on the push, “Four… Five… Six…”
“Seven… Eight… Nine…” she was beginning to slow, her body heating up, “Ten… Eleven.” Dark hair fell forward as she stared at the ground, “Twel-ve…”
“Make it to twenty. You can do this. Eight more.”
“Thir-teen.”
Navyri tried to focus on her breathing, tried to think of success, but a shame at her weakness was creeping in. Had she really allowed herself to be so weak? “Four-teen.” Her upper arms shook with the execution, “Fifteen.” By the time she lowered, she wasn’t sure she would make it back up again, shoulders burning.
“Sixteen.” Her wings twitched, a frustrated response to help when they couldn’t.
“Seventeen. Eighteen.”
“C’mon, Navyri, you’re almost there. Keep engaging your core!”
(I can’t.) She almost said it. Almost… But Navyri was better. She would be the best. (I can. I will. I must.)
“Nineteen.” There was long pause after this one, blue eyes fixating on her fingernails, hating the ground she was propped up on, “Tw-“ She was lowered now, the effort to push up her torso excruciatingly difficult and slow, “Tw…twen…”
Rey had come to crouch as well, shouting words of encouragement and abuse. Nav had to work hard to ignore her.
“Twen-ty.” When Nav’s elbows locked, she released, rolling over and collapsing fully on the hard floor, her arms cooked noodles. She tried to hug them to her chest but failed, letting them lie useless beside her. Rey clapped proudly, scooting closer to reach out and massage her pupil’s arms. Nav allowed it, not having the energy to pull away.
After a few trills had passed and Rey switched to her other arm, did she ask, “What are you doing?”
“Rolling out your muscles,” she kneaded the flesh of her forearm, “Should prevent injury. You didn't pull anything did you?”
“Don’t think so.”
Rey moved down her arm, making sure to stimulate each muscle, and finished with a pat on her arm, “Good," she smiled, "You’ll be sore in the morning.”
She tried to laugh but the sound died on her tongue, "Can't wait."
Nav watched her step forward, her knife arm swinging around the side of her head to bury the dagger in the side of her skull. She tried to watch the movement, but her partner froze their attack and shook their head, “No, you cannot watch with your eyes, only your peripherals. You must feel the attack if you are to block it effectively. Try again.”
They returned to their original positions and Rey swung again. Navyri stared with focus at her opponent to make sure no other limbs would try and strike, the knife’s movement from the corner of her eye making her respond. She threw up a forearm, their arms grinding against one another before the blade could make contact.
“Good,” Rey praised after a few more drills, “You are learning quickly. Now, take your own blade and after blocking, attempt to bury it in my armpit or face. These are often exposed areas, more so, now that your opponent has allowed you to take control. If you can step into the attack and counter it, you can burst.”
“Burst?”
“Like… explode outward. This is the right word in Common, no? For those your own size, this will often stun them, make them fall back, or at the very least, give you a bit more ground to push back.”
“I think I understand.”
“Good, let’s try again.”
They repeated this process over and over, not stopping when Navyri believed she mastered it. (It has to be second nature’) Rey said, (Or a matter of life and death will just be a matter of how long until you die,) Nav leaned into this teaching, obsessing over every move she made, asking her instructor to keep going even after she was breathless and drenched in sweat. Finally, as Navyri took her stance one more time, Rey shook her head.
“You’re very quick, and you are one of the most brutal fighters I’ve ever had the pleasure to train,” the woman nodded approvingly, placing both hands on wide hips, “But you have neglected your strength. You need more power or any man or worth his salt has a chance of overpowering you. And the Ithecal?” Rey snorted, smirking, “Don’t get me started.”
Navyri nodded, pacing in a circle as she caught her breath, switching the grip of her dagger. She hated to admit it, but the woman wasn’t a liar, “You think I’m out of shape?” There was a bit of teasing in the voice, laced with admittance, “You’re not wrong… About the Ithecal.” She remembered the few she had ever seen, rarely coming across the reptilian race. But each one was almost double her size and could break her with a swing of their tail…
“I think you are coasting by on your stealth and cunning,” Rey always had a nice way of wording things, the limited time the two had known each other. It was the reason the temperamental Navyri liked her company. She could be blunt and yet managed to not offend, “When was the last time you did any strength training?” Navyri tried to think of the answer, but the momentary silence said enough. Rey was already grinning, “Put your daggers up and get on the ground. It’s push up time.” There was a dark delight in the trainer’s eye, “You’re going to love this.”
“But-“
“Ah, ah, ah! Do you want to get stronger or not?”
The Naer opened her mouth to retort, but groaned, lowering to her knees and then taking the proper stance. Hands shoulder width apart, legs and back straight. She felt the pull in her shoulders as her torso lowered, with Rey crouching and pushing upon her back to make sure she went deep enough. She was a woman, but there would be no mediocre efforts here. In battle, no one would go easy on you just because you had breasts. Nav had learned that well over the years and it was one of the few reasons she was a survivor.
“One… Two… Three…” With each rise, Navyri locked her elbows, exhaling on the push, “Four… Five… Six…”
“Seven… Eight… Nine…” she was beginning to slow, her body heating up, “Ten… Eleven.” Dark hair fell forward as she stared at the ground, “Twel-ve…”
“Make it to twenty. You can do this. Eight more.”
“Thir-teen.”
Navyri tried to focus on her breathing, tried to think of success, but a shame at her weakness was creeping in. Had she really allowed herself to be so weak? “Four-teen.” Her upper arms shook with the execution, “Fifteen.” By the time she lowered, she wasn’t sure she would make it back up again, shoulders burning.
“Sixteen.” Her wings twitched, a frustrated response to help when they couldn’t.
“Seventeen. Eighteen.”
“C’mon, Navyri, you’re almost there. Keep engaging your core!”
(I can’t.) She almost said it. Almost… But Navyri was better. She would be the best. (I can. I will. I must.)
“Nineteen.” There was long pause after this one, blue eyes fixating on her fingernails, hating the ground she was propped up on, “Tw-“ She was lowered now, the effort to push up her torso excruciatingly difficult and slow, “Tw…twen…”
Rey had come to crouch as well, shouting words of encouragement and abuse. Nav had to work hard to ignore her.
“Twen-ty.” When Nav’s elbows locked, she released, rolling over and collapsing fully on the hard floor, her arms cooked noodles. She tried to hug them to her chest but failed, letting them lie useless beside her. Rey clapped proudly, scooting closer to reach out and massage her pupil’s arms. Nav allowed it, not having the energy to pull away.
After a few trills had passed and Rey switched to her other arm, did she ask, “What are you doing?”
“Rolling out your muscles,” she kneaded the flesh of her forearm, “Should prevent injury. You didn't pull anything did you?”
“Don’t think so.”
Rey moved down her arm, making sure to stimulate each muscle, and finished with a pat on her arm, “Good," she smiled, "You’ll be sore in the morning.”
She tried to laugh but the sound died on her tongue, "Can't wait."
