Post by kevna on Jun 16, 2021 22:34:58 GMT -5
Tak'ril - Bronze Agureyth
Flying at night and star navigation had been easier then any other lessons. His time on boats, looking up at the night sky had him at a better advantage than some of his other weyrmates. His struggle had come this month, when they had begun the dueling and self-defense classes. It was hard not to imagine Boregard and the blood as he wielded whatever weapon of choice they used. He could almost feel the scars along his abdomen and side pulling as he moved with ill ease and hesitation. It was hard. Another in the class had struggled, though for different reasons probably. He was just clumsy.
M'nis had asked him if he’d like to practice with him, stating they obviously needed it. Which they did. Still, it was the last way Tak’ril wanted to spend any part of his days. He didn’t want to fight. He didn’t want to learn to kill. The fact that he had been able to kill Boregar had been Faranth’s luck and his given strength. Not skill. He didn’t want the skill. He never wanted to be in that situation again. Yet here he was, looking over the wooden practice knife M'nis had offered him a couple of candlemarks ago, standing before the other weyrling, hesitating. Again.
“Uh, Tak, it’s your turn.” M'nis offered with a silly smile, graciously flourishing his own practice dagger to invite Tak’ril to attack. “Right.” He muttered, grimacing. His knees bent in preparation, and then he launched. Dagger in right hand he thrust forward, shielding his wooden dagger from a parry or grapple with his left hand. R’den was faster on his feet then Tak’ril, and twisted his torso out of the way, and grabbed at his left hand, his own wooden dagger thrusting forward. Tak’ril used his free forearm to push the thrust wide, and shifted his stance so that his left shoulder came forward suddenly and hit his opponent. M'nis wasn’t much shorter then Tak’ril, but he was leaner, had less mass. The hit, and possibly R’den’s clumsiness, had the other man tumbling down, his breath knocked out of him.
Tak’ril winced, and straightened, one hand rubbing behind his neck, slightly abashed. “Er, sorry about that.” M'nis laid on the ground, gasping for air, waving his hand as if he was fine. He definitely did not look fine. “Oh, it’s all good. I saw that coming a mile away.” The man wheezed, his easy forgiveness one of the reasons they got along. R’den was a hang-loose, relaxed, and joking type.
“Right, that’s why you are on the ground.” Tak’ril gave a small tight smile, offering a hand to assist the man back to standing. “All the better to look at you, obviously.” M'nis joked, taking the proffered hand and jumping back up and immediately into a crouch. A more observant, or intuitive individual would have caught that the other man was flirting, but Tak’ril was completely oblivious to the man’s attentions in that respect. M'nis never seemed irritated or put off by the oblivion.
“Maybe we should call it a day.” Tak’ril sighed, and R’den groaned, straightening from his crouch. “But I was just getting good!” Tak’ril raised an eyebrow and chuckled. No, no he wasn’t. But M'nis could dream. “Maybe we should try practicing with someone who is actually good at this." M'nis gave a chuckled of his own, shrugging. “I think you are pretty good at it.” The compliment was kind, but it rang false in Tak’ril’s opinion. He only shook his head, his beliefs about that plain on his features.
“Maybe if you let loose a little.” M'nis offered, coming up and taking hold of one of Tak’ril’s arms and shaking it teasingly. Tak’ril gave another tight half smile, continuing to shake his head. “Its… Hard. To let loose.” M'nis released his arm and scratched his head. “And that being because….?” M'nis was digging for information. He liked to do that, didn’t he? Tak’ril considered him a friend, a trusted friend. Why not tell him? He hadn’t even told Joia yet, but telling a woman, at least to him, was a completely different story then telling another friend. A bud.
“I’m not really interested in learning how to duel… Not since… Not since I-I challenged and killed my sister’s murderer in a duel.” There. He had said it. The last few words had come out in a rush, and he looked down in shame at the wooden dagger he held.
“Shards, man. I… I didn’t know.” There was no fear, or anger in the voice. It sounded compassionate, worried. Tak’ril looked up, and saw only that. “And here I am, reawakening that memory every day, making you practice with me.” He sighed, sounding guilty. Why was he feeling guilty? It was Tak’ril who should feel guilty. “Well… I do have to get better at it. It-It’s just hard. It’s not your fault.” The bronzerider said in defense of the bluerider before him, who only nodded, though didn’t look convinced.
“I’m sorry about your sister.” M'nis gave him another sad smile. It was Tak’s turn to nod, though he was surprised that’s what M'nis was focused on, and not the fact that he, Tak’ril, had killed another man. Tak’ril shrugged, trying to shrug off the onslaught of feelings overcoming him. “Well, no wonder you didn’t want to practice. How about we go do something else tomorrow? Uhh, well, what do you like to do? Fish? We could try that, though I do get sick on boats-“ He continued to ramble, and suddenly Tak’ril chuckled. This was not how he had expected this conversation to go. M'nis had just trusted him, and he was immensely grateful for it.
“We probably should practice. We need it.” Tak’ril interrupted his friend’s ramble, who stopped shortly and shook his head. “If you’re sure Tak…” Tak nodded and looked down at his wooden dagger again, and then offered it back to M'nis. “I am.”
They continued to chat as they stretched and cooled down, offering pointers to eachother, and talking about their ariel drilling and what their dragon’s were up to. It was easy, Tak’ril felt at ease. In fact, he had felt a release in his chest at sharing his secret he hadn’t expected. And now he knew one thing for sure. M'nis was a friend he could rely on.
