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#8813784 Dec 08, 2013 at 12:09 AM · Edited over 4 years ago
119 Posts
Blood, red steaming blood running down my face as I tried my best to withstand the onslaught of attacks form Mededayya. Left, right, thrust, slash, parry I barely escaped with my life. As I lay on the ground moaning in pain I feel a boot kick me over so that I can look up at her through the blood. She looked at me, a visage of scorn and disgust on her features as I lay on the ground helpless. As I tried to stand she pushed me back down with her boot before taking a moment to speak as I grunted in pain.

"Your blocks were slow, I want no excuses for such pitiful behavior. As part of your punishment you will not be allowed medical attention for your own failures. Now grab a brush and start scrubbing the floors you bled on! At least Iyo is showing some semblance of progress in our arts, now clean yourself up after you are done with this and keep practicing."

Raythil stumbled to the broom closet before grabbing a brush and began to scrub at the blood staining the floor. After two hours of scrubbing the floor he stepped back, the blood from his face stopped flowing after the first hour making his job slightly easier. Putting the brush up he grabbed his training blade and began running through the advanced versions of his forms for several hours before succumbing to exhaustion and falling asleep on his feet, the sword still in his grip.

Waking several hours later he dropped the training blade and went straight to his room to wash the dried blood off of his face with a rag. Staring in the mirror he saw two angry red gashes running across his nose and a second running diagonally across his face just missing his right eye. Dropping the bloody rag in the sink he looked at the gashes and remembered how happy Iyo looked when he said he would take her place in the sparring match.

"I swear Iyo, I swear on my life that I will protect you from Dayya. Just to see you happy I would take this beating over and over."

The scene faded to black as Raythil bolted up out of bed a cold sweat drenching him. Stumbling to the dresser his bandages in dissaray he rips them off before panting lightly before starting to re-wrap his angry red burns that cover his arms and hands before breaking down into sobs. The tears stung his burned flesh as the bandages started to come undone, falling to the side in a heap. Choking back his tears he grabbed a nearby hypo and stabbed it into his left arm wincing before throwing the vial across the room. Trembling he slowly grabbed the bandages form the floor and re-wrapped his arms before tracing the scars that ran across his face.

"I promise Iyo, I will protect you from Dayya just like when we were kids. Everything will be alright, just keep smiling and It'll be enough for me."
"All weapons are important to an Echani. A hand built weapon is part of the Echani. I built her by hand, crafting the hilt over weeks of trial and error. She is very much a part of me, like a child, or a spouse. With out the weapon, you cannot defend your life, if you cannot defend your life you have no life. So we treat our weapons with respect. We honor them, as they honor us by being our defenders, our tools, an extension of ourselves. A weapon is an extension of ones soul."
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