Private Tales Allegro con Brio

[Evangeline]

Sequestered away within the Academy lay a particular courtyard. It was smaller than most, but it was private, quiet, and most of all, it was heavily warded. This courtyard served a specific purpose, and it had been a personal request of Proctor Evangeline D'amour upon confirmation of her tenure at the Academy. This humble place, lined with gravel and sand, equipped with dummies and targets, was Evangeline's private training ground.

Indeed, retirement was no excuse to let oneself get out of prime shape--or as close as one could come when what was likely permanent nerve damage affected your ability to fight at full capacity. Sigh. 'Those who can't, teach,' after all. Evangeline tried to ignore the inanity of such thoughts as she worked through her routine.

Step, step, boost, swing. Step, step, boost, swing. Backstep, parry, boost, feint, swing.

Perfection demanded repetition. House Pirian demanded perfection. Her grunts of exertion echoed through the courtyard as she practiced, a bead of sweat dripping from her brow as she awaited the arrival of a promising, young pupil: one Vance Calgrave. In time, he would learn what it meant to be a proper warrior.

 

[Vance Calgrave]

Vance made his way to the courtyard in good time. Contrary to what might be expected, he was rarely ever late. None of them were often late... not when the consequences were so high. Now, perhaps, he would not be punished so harshly, but the lessons had stuck.

He hadn't been to this courtyard before, which was odd given how he'd spent almost all of his life in the academy. Or maybe he had and had forgotten? Whatever, unimportant.

The soft clack of his boots on stone began to fall in time with Eva's vocalizations as he drew near, thick copper dampeners tapping from his heels mixing with her grunts and light footsteps. He liked that she was training, liked that she appeared to practice what she preached. It did make her more human, though, which was something Vance figured most proctors were trying to avoid. Some, he was sure, would prefer to be thought of as gods.

"Proctor." He stood at the edge of the courtyard, tall and at attention. His eyes, however, gave away a gleeful excitement to train with the woman who had bested him so easily.

 

[Evangeline]

One final shout and an accelerated slash saw the head of one of Evangeline's training dummies severed. It tumbled harmlessly to the ground as she sheathed her blade back within the confines of her cane. She turned to face Vance, icy gaze pondering over him, reading his anticipation.

"Initiate," She greeted him in kind, stepping towards him with the familiar three-tap clacking of her gait. "Punctual. I like that."

His posture was straight and he was at least attempting to be formal. That was a good sign. His temper back during their spar was something that had worried her before, and she imagined that other proctors had either encouraged the behavior or neglected it entirely. It was one more thing she'd have to train out, and in such a limited time span. It was almost a shame the revolution hadn't happened sooner.

"I've read your file, so I have an idea of what you're presently capable of. Your survival up to now and your performance during our demonstration also informs me that your potential is greater than zero. I have my share of observations on how to aid you in improving, however," She examined him carefully. Carefully kept uniform, nothing untucked. Commendable. "I'd like to hear if you have any ideas in that regard."

 

[Vance Calgrave]

He hadn't expected her to ask him how he wanted to train. Ah, it must be a trick, some lesson in itself or some way to see if he had the right answer. Did he have any ideas? He had tons of ideas. He wanted to be able to read movements like her, to move like her. Granted, he wouldn't be able to learn her magic, but even without her speed Evangeline's precision and grace while fighting was something to be admired.

"You read every one of my attacks, but I couldn't tell what you were going to do at all. I want to read my opponent like that, and keep them from reading me." He would never match her speed. Never. But not even she could move instantly, he was certain of it. Maybe she had some tell before she set off, some way to let him know where she was going to show up. If he could predict her movements, he could predict anyone's.

"And you put it best," he said with a wry expression, "I need to be quicker..." Dancing around apprentices wasn't helping him, he was already swifter than most. As much as it wounded his pride, he needed someone who could beat him, an actual stone for him to sharpen his skills upon.

"...proctor." He added in a more professional tone. That slip of familiarity would have earned him a burn or three under the old regime.

 

[Evangeline]

Evangeline listened quietly to Vance's musings, then smiled. Respectful, but also observant and self reflective. There was much here to work with.
"Reading your opponent's movements is something that comes with time and experience, first and foremost." The proctor explained before beginning to walk towards a nearby weapon rack, cane tapping across the courtyard as she traveled. "However, it is still a skill that can be taught, and one that I can teach you. If you can learn to read my movements, you'll be able to react to anything."

She gingerly prodded through the contents of the rack, plucking contents as she saw fit.

"I have been thinking on the aspect of your speed." What she was going to say next would likely surprise him. "With enough practice, I believe you can be even faster than me."

That was a long ways off for now, though, and she thought to punctuate that message. With a step, she accelerated to directly in front of Vance, and offered him a wooden training sword.

 

[Vance Calgrave]

Vance did not have time to raise his eyebrows before Eva was standing directly in front of him. He was startled and took a step back out of instinct, a few stray sparks fell from his hair. He had a flash of annoyance at being alarmed, but he smoothed it out quickly. “This is why you’re here.”

He took the sword with a look of both questioning and bemused acceptance. He had no idea what to expect from Eva besides the trouncing she’d given him before.

“How could anyone be faster than you?” She moved instantly, as near as he could tell. His magic didn’t grant him speed… what was she playing at.

 

[Evangeline]

The proctor flourished her own training sword, reminding herself of the weapon's weight and dynamics, before glancing at Vance with a slight smirk. Hiding her limp as best she could, Evangeline took up a starting position within a piste and gestured for her student to do the same.

"That," Eva began thoughtfully. "Is an answer I'd like to lead you to, rather than simply tell you. I will, however, give you the building blocks."

The proctor rolled her head in a quick circle, evoking a muffled *pop* from her neck.
"To start, know this: creativity is key for people like us. Brute force and flashy displays of power have their place, but our magic is not just something we expel from ourselves. It is an extension of us."
As if to prove her point, she leaned down and plucked a small weed from between the gravel beneath her, held it up, and aged it to dust.

With that, she adjusted her stance and readied herself.
"Let's try something, shall we? We'll call it a venture in multitasking. We'll run a simple swordplay drill. While we do, reflect on what I've just told you about magic, and answer me this: why do you need those dampeners you wear?" Without giving Vance the opportunity to consider his answer in advance, Eva raised her wooden blade and stepped forward. "Ready? Begin."

 

[Vance Calgrave]

She sure was giving him a lot of mental hoops to jump through. Good, that was good, right? That was what he was here for, after all, advanced lessons. Vance, like the lightning he called, was impulsive. He followed the path of least resistance to get what he wanted, and had been lucky or gifted enough thus far for that path to be through other students. This was not to be confused with laziness, however. Perhaps arrogance was too harsh a word, but tell him that he could become stronger, that he could become the best, and he'll step up to any challenge placed before him.

Creativity. Ok, he could be creative. Creative... how, exactly? Did she just kill that plant? Oh shit! We're starting.

He quickly moved from ready position to parry the proctor's move, and slipped into one of the few focused spaces he could find: combat. Here his thoughts were streamlined to only what would help him survive. The dampeners clicked on the ground as he moved, and he considered her question as best he could in the moment.

He'd worn the dampeners for almost his entire time at the academy. "They help focus my power," he parroted what he'd been told, "Siphon off excess energy, let me harness the remains." But he knew what they really were: a crutch.

Truthfully he hated them. He hated how they felt, how they smelled when the air burnt around them, and most of all he hated that he was too weak to handle the lightning without them. What sort of Dreadlord needed to cut his own power to be able to control it? A sharp impact ran up his sword arm, bringing him back to the task at hand. Evangeline could help him there, he was sure of it. "They're a leash," he said bitterly, using the brooding anger to put a bit more force behind his next blow.

 

[Evangeline]

Vance might've been a hothead, but he was a smart hothead. Tempering that attitude would be key to his progression. Evangeline could read the frustration on the young man's face as he pondered her question, as he took the opening strike to the arm. Yet he seemed to adjust quickly, able to divide his focus between his steps, his swings, and his speech.

"I see you can multitask. Good. That is an invaluable skill to the likes of us."
Not just invaluable in general, but vital to this very lesson. She took a two handed grip on her training blade and blocked Vance's blow, feeling the heft behind his swing. Strong, but still relying too much on that quick anger when he needed to be thinking tactically.

"A leash, perhaps. A crutch, some might say." She replied, shifting back to give the illusion of a break before she struck back with a lunge. For now, she did not use her own magic, instead relying solely on the skill her experience had wrought. "Now tell me: why do you have an excess? What are you doing with all that waste? Or indeed, what could you be doing with it?"

She feinted, then lunged again. If he wanted to succeed, he would have to think outside what he considered his orthodox. He would need to break the molds that his other teachers had lay him into.

 

[Vance Calgrave]

She wasn’t even breaking a sweat. Evangeline seemed to know where his sword would be before he did. He barely slipped out of the way of her first lunge but wasn’t quick enough to get his sword up. She hadn’t been in a fighting stance a second ago, yet she transitioned into the attack so smoothly.

Vance grit his teeth and took another slash. He agreed with her assessment, but he didn’t like that she said it. That sort of talk would push him even more desperately to prove himself above those tools. But her question took him aback and her second lunge hit him square in the chest.

He fell back with a shooting pain in his right pectoral, the aforementioned dampeners clanging on the dirt. He looked up out of instinct with a face that denied defeat, but let it fall after a second. She had most soundly beaten him.

He got up deliberately, dusting himself off and picking up his sword. “It just... happens.“ He had never felt stupider. “When I’m angry, or fighting, or happy it-“ A small pop accompanied a tiny jolt from his leg dampener to the ground, and he half laughed “...it does that. It‘s too much for a body to handle.” Emphasis on “a” body, not “his.” Vance would never admit that.

 

[Evangeline]

Evangeline studied the boy as he rose to his feet. She had been prepared to offer him a hand up, but perhaps that was foolish; Vance was quite proud, after all. His partial dodge of the question was telling enough. He clearly hated losing, and such a gesture after being knocked to the dirt might've been taken as patronizing. That was a shame. He was on the cusp of a breakthrough...maybe he just needed an example.

"I'd like to share something with you that I don't tell many people. The roadblock in your progress is not unique to you. I experienced it too, when I was around your age." A few years younger actually, but there was no need to share that detail. "While my magic isn't as volatile as yours, I once struggled with control. I would either completely overcharge my subject, or give it so little that the effect wasn't even noticeable."

The 2nd level paced slowly, tapping the training sword against the palm of her hand.
"In the former case, I would either run straight into a wall after skipping too much space, or reduce whatever I was touching to withered dust." She laughed wistfully, her memories far away. It truly wasn't something she liked to speak of; Evangeline worked hard to maintain the appearance of near-perfection, and letting others know of her past weakness wasn't exactly conducive to that. "My proctors told me I had to learn to properly throttle my power, but they never explained how I could make that happen."

Her lips curved upwards as she recalled her later triumph, how she'd proven her proctors and initiates wrong back then. They had thought her weak, unfocused. She had only needed context.
"I didn't reach a breakthrough until I realized that wasn't entirely true. I just had to learn where to send the energy when there was a surplus."

Again Evangeline flourished the wooden sword, her eyes shifting back to Vance. She had an idea.
"I'd like you to take the 'leash' off, and let's spar again. This time, however, I want you to maintain whatever your minimum magical output is the whole time, without using it offensively."

 

[Vance Calgrave]

Vance was (again) confused. “You want me to stay charged… but not use it?” His lightning seemed to build in the heat of the moment, rising with his temper and feeding from his battle lust. To generate it would not be a problem, but keeping it all reigned in would be difficult, and distracting.

There wasn’t usually this much talking in his training sessions, not beyond barked instructions of “go” or “attack” or “again!” He was still feeling an uncomfortable mix of mysterious emotions, for while he did not like his failures to be the subject of the lesson he did feel a but better after Evangeline’s confession. Any comparison to her, even in their shortcomings, was a boost to his confidence.

He couldn’t help himself wondering what the proctor was like as a student. If this was her power contained it must have been terrifying when out of control. He still wasn’t entirely sure what that power was, but he no longer thought it was teleportation.

“Ok,” he said, trying to sound more confident than he was. He reentered his combat stance and felt the chattering lightning crackle in his veins. It was easy to call up, and he could already feel the siphons leeching at it. Usually that was like filling a bucket full of small holes. He could fill it quickly and pour it out, but over time the level would drop.

He moved forwards and the sparring began. He could feel the lightning eagerly at his fingertips, wanting to sprint down the sword or leap from his hands to Eva’s armor. He reigned it in, against all of his instincts, and focused on building more. He could hear the humming from his armor now as it worked to resist the current. Small sparks clicked out from his boots where the dampeners hit the ground, and more and more thin threads of power made their escape into the air.

 

[Evangeline]

Evangeline watched patiently and confidently as Vance began to build up energy. He was not the average meatheaded initiate; Vance was smart, in spite of his impetuous nature. What would happen if he focused his resolve, she wondered? Now was the time to find out.

"Good. A solid start," She called to him among the din of his electricity. He had started this round with his dampeners on; that was fine. If that was what he was used to, it would be easier for him to start that way. She would soon step him up to going without them, however. "Get comfortable with that level of output. Don't let up, and don't let it get any higher. Do not worry about me."

Eva was well aware of Vance's magic by now and had planned accordingly. Mars Pallatrix had been kind enough to supply a few lightning wards beforehand, and she was now well insulated from any potential harm. With a flourish, Evangeline stepped in, training blade ready.

"Remember your steps. Keep your posture tight. Good. And again!" She barked at him at intervals as they sparred, carefully observing his every move. This was a formative moment, that much she knew, and she was more invested than ever in seeing it through. Vance would be a proper Dreadlord yet.

 

[Vance Calgrave]

It was difficult to focus on this many things at once. Vance's battle sense had always been more innate than calculated. His movements, his attacks with sword and magic, his reaction to enemy strikes, they all flowed into one another and felt more natural than breathing. His years of brutal training, this last year notwithstanding, had chiseled him into a true killing machine.

But this was. different. This went against that natural instinct. Maintaining such a high charge meant that he couldn't let loose as much at a time. The metal siphons hummed and shimmered as they converted more and more of his energy to useless heat. He slashed, parried, sent chains of lightning down his sword blade and sent a few short-range bolts from his off hand.

Remember posture. Remember stance. As they fought, it did become a little easier to maintain. His hair was standing fully on-end from static and now there were sparks and static bolts between the pair of them whenever they stood close.