Jaekan Stonarch Meets Rayala Kordae
The trip had been long and tedious, though it was interesting nonetheless. Jaekan had written many new things in his journals. A few of the creatures they had come across had only vague descriptions and speculation. His journals were becoming too heavy to bring along on trips such as this, but he could not think of a better way to record it.
They had reached Kordae (City) late in the evening. His sister, Tilkae Stonarch, was holding her Forging in Kordae so her fiance could be present. As Tilkae was the second in line to lead house Stonarch (Family), it was going to be quite the ceremony. Even so, Jaekan was not interested in the proceedings that were to be held the following afternoon. His sister, though a capable warrior, didn't care much for the designing of weapons. For all her skill, she lacked creativity, so Jaekan had been the one to draw out the schematics for Tilkae's Cheeoq-tel. It was to be an ax, 6 feet in length. The leading edge would be made of a hard steel with the true meat of the blade made of platinum, in order to give it more mass for the thickness than steel, enabling a heavy cut he knew his sister's bulk could handle. If his calculations were correct, the ax would be capable of cutting a man in half from head to groin. With this information recorded in his journals, he saw no reason to attend the ceremony. Tilkae had already agreed to allow him to skip the event in thanks for his design. He doubted his mother, Kindae Stonarch, would look kindly on her decision, but might be willing to accept the Tilkae's decision at her own Forging. Just in case, Jaekan had secured Pitri Stonarch's permission. No matter how much she disliked it, his mother would respect his authority as her father and Ja of Stonarch (Family).
Jaekan waited until a few minutes before the Forging was to begin. It was difficult for him to decide where to go with the several hours that the Forging would take. He wished that there would be more people around the city to ask about local operations and history, but most of them would be attending his sister's Forging. Their party had come across the tracks of a large pawed creature and he decided to spend the afternoon stalking and studying the beast. He set out for the woods, taking with him a journal to record any information he gathered, a short bow to take down the beast, and a hunting knife to study its innards.
It was nearly dusk by the time Jaekan managed to find and shoot down the creature he was hunting. It turned out to be a Damar Wolf. Jaekan had never seen such a beast of a wolf; wolves of this size only lived in the most northern regions of the Forest of Kordae and did not usually wander this far south. The majestic wolf was easily as large as the grizzlies that roamed the woods near his home in Fort Stonarch.
Jaekan drew out a hunting knife, wondering what secrets it's innards might hold. His knife was not an inch away when a short cry came from the north. It was followed by another, and another. The cries did not seem to be sourced in pain, but rather a rhythmic kata breath. This intrigued Jaekan, who sheathed his knife and stalked northwards. Perhaps there was someone out practicing a private kata that he could record in his journal before returning to his catch.
The trees were growing further apart as Jaekan drew closer to the source of the sounds. He pushed through a wall of brush before that stood him, revealing a small clearing. In the centre of the clearing a girl was facing away from him slicing at the air with an Infantry Sword, shouting out with each swing. She was not but seven feet from her and could see that her hair was unbraided and she had removed her tunic for training in the summer heat. Her skin was not very tanned, as though she had spent little time in the sun, but this was not what brought his eyes to her back. Following her spine were black lines, one on each side of it that ended at her hips. 3 smaller lines came from the sides, joining the ones near her spine. Jaekan opened his journal and quilled her measurements and the kata pattern in Ancient Jacobian.
He looked up from his writing and saw that the girl had turned toward him. Her chest had similar lines to the ones on her back. Jaekan was fascinated by them. They couldn't be a paint: their colour was too uniform, too well done. No, the colour appeared to be part of the skin rather than on it. His gaze met her eyes and he saw there something nearly as intriguing as the black lines within her skin. Unlike the lifeless steel colour that most of his people possessed, her eyes were a brilliant silver, permeated by shifting flecks of deep green. He had heard of people in the east who had a silver eyes, but never had he heard of parts of the eyes that moved the way the bits of green did in hers.
"Don't look at me!" She turned her gaze from him, looking at the ground.
"Why not?" He rose and stepped towards her.
"I said not to look at me!" She was crying now, tears gently gliding from her silver eyes.
"Your eyes..." he began. He was cut short by the swing of her weapon; Jakean barely had time to avoid the blade. He dove and rolled to the left, drawing his knife. He did not want to use it and doubted it's effectivness in blocking the hefty strikes that could be delivered by an Infantry Sword. It would be a pity to have to kill her; he did not yet have her name and wished to know how she had acquired those marks on her skin. She seemed a capable fighter, Jaekan hoped not too capable. He regained his footing just in time to see the incoming two-handed thrust and narrowly avoided it with a sidestep right. The girl proceeded with a series of blows swinging downwards, driving him towards the thicket surrounding the clearing. Each of the blows flowed smoothly into the next, always switching which was the leading edge of the blade. To an observer it might have looked as though she was rowing a boat. Her form was strong, unique, and difficult to counter. Her grace was only matched by her strength: twice her blade had connected with the hunting knife, sending jolts of pain into his wrist.
Jaekan decided that if he was to survive this onslaught he'd need to end the fight quickly. He began seeking her Sobo-oq, her weakness of steel. It cost him two shallow cuts down his chest. They weren't serious, but he suspected they would leave lasting scars. After nearly a minute of dodging the relentless blows, backing ever further from the clearing, he saw his opening. With every slash, she always shifted her left foot first. He waited until the next swing was bearing down to make his move. He tossed his knife to his left hand and thrust his right arm between the girl's arms and grabbed her left shoulder, his right leg hooking hers at the ankle and pulling it forward. She fell hard on her back, knocking the wind from her lungs. Jaekan went down to a crouch and yanked the sword from her grasp, tossing it to the side. She reached for it weakly, but seemed resigned to her fate.
"Those marks," he asked, "where can I get some?"
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