The Fist

[Symbri]

717th Ashan 20th


Standing in the small Courtyard barefoot Symbri composed herself, teaching fighting wasn’t something she’d initially latched onto but if there was one good way to know if you’d learned something, it was to teach it. So she’d reluctantly agreed to become a teacher. People wanted to learn to protect themselves and that was a noble cause. The people were told to gather in the courtyard at sunrise, By the time the sun had been up Symbri had already been up for some time meditating though she still found the act mostly fruitless, in her own mind she still believed she had much to learn. Turning she sat cross-legged and waited until she felt all that were coming had arrived. Looking over the motley assortment of people who’d arrived she almost snickered. An assortment of young boys who were probly just interested in learning how to fight, a couple older people who looked to be shop owners and, a pair of women who looked like housewives, accompanied by a pair of children who looked like they were just out figuring out the art of walking.
Well it’s not like she minded, everyone had the right to learn to protect themselves and what they cared about. There were more people but perhaps it would be rude to stare at them without formally introducing herself. Pulling back her brown hood and her brown burlap robes She stood before the small congregation and bowed.
“Welcome, you may call Me Symbri, As of today, I’ll be teaching you the arts of self-defense, the martial arts are just as much a life style as they are a tool.”
To put emphasis on the fact she Lifted one leg off of the ground leveling it next to her ear and held it there for a moment before letting it drop.
“If you practice, you will learn to understand the limits of your body, and even surpass them. But I’m getting ahead of myself. I think for a first lesson, we should begin with something simple. The fist.”

Holding out her open hand Symbri Slowly curled it into a fist fingers first then the thumb last.

“An improperly made fist runs just as must risk of hurting you as it does your opponent. If you were to close your fingers over your thumb you could break or dislocate your thumb by punching, I’m going to walk around now, and please show me your fists, I know it seems Juvenile, but please bear with me.”

[Danielle Tobelle]

Danielle's leg still throbbed, but she found herself in a class among people interested in self-defense. The mixed blood girl figured it would useful, given what she had already seen since her arrival earlier in the season. It would also be quite the way to relieve stress and tension. But, going by the people taking the class and the instructor themselves, it would likely make the levels of stress within her worse.

A scowl sat on her full lips as she observed her peers and the instructor. Symbri, her name was. She could not have been much older than Danielle. Maybe she was using this as a way to make money. The mixed blood, however, did not care. Rather, she was annoyed at having to hold up a fist and be evaluated on how well she made one. It was a fist. But she did as instructed with little complaint.

Danielle had never received formal instruction, and thus made the same error that Symbri was likely checking for. Her fingers curled over her thumb as she held it up, using her other hand to support the weight of her arm. Her expression was far from pleased, but she remained silent. Not much worth saying at this point.

[Symbri]

Walking among her new students the would be teacher held a face of neutrality that slowly grew into a wan smile. She didn’t know the first thing about being a good teacher, but it was the least she could do to impart all of her knowledge by the means that seemed simplest. Showing by doing seemed simple enough, she just hoped that she could “show” well enough, at least her prior career hadn’t allowed stage fright.

It was easy enough, most people had the right idea. The children were easy as she gently showed them the proper way to ball there tiny fists, though a part of her prayed that ones so young would never have to raise them for war. Making her way through her pupils Symbri tried to remember all of there faces, hopefully time for names would come later. When she made her way to the girl that seemed near her age she smile bowing slightly to her as she had each student before. She too was making a fist incorrectly, but it occurred to her, that perhaps it was wise to show her why it was wrong and not only explain it.

Taking her fist in her own hand she squeezed lightly on the girls fist, enough that the thumb hidden beneath her fingers would feel discomfort at the joint, though hopefully not enough to feel pain, then loosening her grip she foded her hand into a proper fist, again pressuring it lightly so that she could feel the difference.

“it’s a matter of how the joints all work and compress, you can ball a tighter fist this way and minimize damage to your hand with a good fist. Though, if it’s any consolation, I learned this one the hard way, I bruised my brother’s jaw, but it was hardly worth a dislocated thumb.”
Smiling at the thought of her older sibling Symbri walked back to the front of the class.

“It all begins with your hands, from the open hand to the closed fist, from the artisan who brings art from clay, to the swordsman who flicks his blade faster than the wind, the hand is focus. It is important to take good care of one’s hands and whole body, as it is your greatest tool, and greatest weapon.”
Lowering her stance until her legs were spread and her torso lowered as if she was riding an invisible horse Symbri put her fists by her hips.

“throwing a punch is perhaps rudimentary and simple, but it is not something that can be taken lightly, one might say that a good punch comes from the shoulder and arm, but this is only a single limb, a true punch comes from the body.”
Shifting her feet slightly as her weight shifted from one foot to the other her muscles from toe to finger tip rippled as she through a punch from the stance her fist starting upside down at her waist and corkscrewing to be right side up once fully extended. Reproducing the simple movement much slower with her left fist to show the importance of the motions Symbri smiled. It was already obvious among those gathered that even the horse stance was going to prove difficult. Standing in horse for more than a little bit caused one’s thighs to burn and back to tighten when the body was unused to the position.

“So, this is the basic theory anyway. Using the whole body allows even someone my size to take on opponents much larger. It’s very easy to forget parts of your body unless you use it in it’s entirety. I recommend testing yourself each day we don’t train with the horse stance, it’s uncomfortable at first, but once it becomes second nature you are well on your way to strengthening your body. Now, lets take a short rest and feel free to approach me if you’ve any questions at all.”

Horse stance

[Danielle Tobelle]

Perhaps at any other time, Danielle might have cared about Symbri’s musings of the past. Might being the keyword, because for the moment she couldn’t care less. She didn’t respond as the girl corrected her. Joints, compression; useful information stored, useless information ignored.

Symbri returned to the front of the class, and whether she meant or not, waxed poetic about the importance of hands and positioning. Danielle squinted. Either the girl was deeply passionate about this sort of stuff, or she was simply trying too hard to impress those less interested within the class. And then, with mild horror, the mixed blood girl watched as the instructor dropped into what she referred to as a horse stance. Just watching produced a stronger throb in her leg and she doubted she could copy the movement with any kind of ease.

Turning, she watched her classmates attempt it as well. Which left her the only person standing still. Jaw clenched as she observed this fact, she decided she would suck it up. There was a point to this, after all. Her leg, at first, cooperated as she lowered into the initial part of the stance. The muscles that had become accustomed to riding a horse were of some help, but once she shifted her weight, they began their protest. The burn was not as instantaneous as she would have thought, but subtle and creeping as the trills went by.

“Fuck.” It could not have been any longer than a bit or two, but the single utterance earned her a few looks, some disapproving and some in apparent agreement. The scream of her muscles echoed in her features as they contorted into an expression of pain. Symbri spoke again, to give an explanation for the madness that was the horse stance and to give them a moment to rest.

Dani was all too happy to stand up straight, thighs and legs rewarding her with a shakiness that would not subside.