"Oric-El? Oric-El Ged?" Reiva Caserta took another step into the empty chamber, holding her sword shakily in front of her. She was alone, except for her echoes.
Another step forward; she set her boots down as quietly as she could, but still there was a dull click off the hard floor, the sound repulsed off dusty statues and the dark ceiling high above her. A noise scraped through the darkness, a noise other than her steps. Reiva turned towards the noise, or where she thought it came from, sword thrust out in front of her. The cutting edge of her weapon lit up bright blue, adding some light to the gloom and warning that the sword was now lethal.
Reiva kept the open doors to her back, letting the rectangle of gray light seep into the dark room in front of her. The light was meager but it gave her some comfort. She was also careful to always keep the opening in her peripheral vision; she didn't want something or someone getting between her escape route with out her knowing.
"Oric-El!" she called again.
The statues veiled in cobwebs gave no reply. Nothing stirred in the chamber. The fountains stood empty, the upturned chairs and broken chandeliers lay covered in decay, even the wind whispering in from the open doors seemed to lie still. Reiva lowered her sword so she could see better, trying desperately to find what she had come so far for.
The doors slammed shut behind her.
Reiva tensed, forcing herself not to jump or gasp, her knuckles white as she squeezed the hilt of her sword. Blood trickled from where her teeth and sunk into her lower lip. The sword was back up into the guard position, her hands no longer shaking. Though her heart was definitely shaking. Reiva's eyes were trying desperately to pierce the gloom, to stop an attacker she knew must be there. A shadow moved on the edge of her vision. Reiva looked up. A shadow, darker than the shadows around it, stood on a balcony many meters in front of her.
"If you've come to kill me, you've done a pretty bad job of going about it." said the shadow.
Three remaining lights of a chandelier flickered on, feebly attempting to fill the cavernous room with their orange light.
Oric-El Ged stood on the balcony above Reiva. His eyes were dark, his face, set like iron, was framed by dusty brown hair streaked with storm gray. His sword was sheathed and rested on his shoulder. She took a shuddering breath, hoping the scowling eyes above her didn't see, before composing herself. Holding her head hugh and sword firmly in her hands, Reiva looked Oric-El in the eyes as she adressed him.
"I am not here to kill you, Master Oric–"
"Ha!" Oric-El interrupted her with a barking laugh, "'Master Oric-El'? Here we are on a desolate world far from the Empire, and yet you, girl, persist on civility."
"I meant no disrespect, Master Ged–
"Please, call me Oric-El. It was what my mother called me, and since you and her are both women, I suppose it is appropriate." Oric-El sneered.
"–it's just I have come very far to–"
"Far!? You come here to complain to me how far you've come? I can tell you a thing or two about far!" Oric-El spat down at her.
"–ask for your help." Reiva held her mounting frustration in as Oric-El's sour complexion continued to spoil, "See, my name is Reiva–"
"Bah!" shouted Oric-El, waving his hand, "Leave now, Reiva, if you know what's good for you! Now I'm not sure how you found me or why you have obviously stolen your father's pulsblade. Now go: I have no interest in you." Oric-El turned his back on her.
"Caserta!" she screamed, her anger and pent up emotions pouring out, "Reiva Caserta! Daughter of Avar and Quomi Caserta! And this is my own pulsblade, I have enough of a conscience not to steal, even from my parents. Unlike you!"
Reiva immediately regretted saying the last part.
Oric-El Ged turned back around slowly. His eyes–when Reiva finally looked up at them–were devoid of any emotion, his face unmoving. Oric-El seemed to ponder what she had just said for several minutes while at the same time examining her, studying her stance, her breathing, the way she held her weapon. Reiva swallowed hard and readjusted her grip on her sword.
When he finally spoke, Oric-El's voice was quiet, almost soft, "Caserta? That is a name I know well. What is the daughter of heroes doing here on Vaaherdon? What do you want of Oric-El Ged?"
"I want you to train me!" Reiva said, her relief tangible; finally, after all her trials, she had made it to the point.
Oric-El's eyes, like the tip of a sword, glinted as they suddenly focused on her.
"No." his reply echoed coldly among the stone buttresses.
"But you don't understand! I have to be trained: my mother needs me!" All of her relief was washed away. Was Oric-El really that inimical?
"No is no, young Reiva Caserta."
"But–but why?"
"Because," Oric-El turned back around, "I don't want to. I swore never to take another apprentice."
"So... so you won't train?" Reiva let her pulsblade hang limply at her side.
"How else shall I put it than 'no'? You are a girl with a sword to big for her; leave, and find some other master."
"But there is none! None of your skill at least. You're Oric-El Ged; you mastered Tosai style when you were twenty! You and–"
Oric-El's face was before hers, his eyes and hard face filling her vision. The balcony stood empty, fifteen meters of empty air between where Reiva was and it.
"Leave." Oric-El's breath was hot as it washed over Reiva's face, "There's the door."
The doors opened outwards all by themselves. Reiva furtively looked up into Oric-El's eyes; they flashed, challenging her to disobey him. Reiva took a step backwards, eyes downcast. She spun around and crammed her sword back in its sheath, then left through the doors out into the cold wind. Reiva Caserta gave the ruined building one last look before trudging back to her ship, angrily wiping tears from her eyes.
Her ship was in sight. The familiar colors and lights of what had become her mobile home brought no comfort to her though. Reiva was empty. She was at a loss, out of ideas, at a dead end. Going to Oric-El Ged was a gamble, she knew, but she had hoped–like a fool–that he would train her. Now she saw why he was an exile. Suddenly the snow under her right boot gave way and her foot slid into a tiny crevasse Rock bit painfully into her leg as she tugged and pulled, her breath steaming in the cold as she gave an angry yelp. She heard a crunch of snow somewhere behind. Reiva strained her neck as she probed the white rolls of hills behind her, at the same time snatching at the handle of her pulsblade. Then she saw him. Coming from the direction of the ruined plaza was Oric-El Ged, naked sword blade glinting in the gray light. Heart beating like a hammer against her chest, Reiva pulled desperately at her sword; the awkward angle she was at because of her trapped leg made this hard. Oric-El was almost upon her when her pulsblade finally slid into her hand. And just in time, too. Sparks flew into the snowy air as Reiva blocked Oric-El's chop meant to cleave her in half.
"What are you doing!?" Reiva screamed.
The answer she got was a sword blade along her side, opening a slit in her side that stained the snow red. Oric-El's pulsblade wasn't glowing, otherwise the the sword stroke would've cut right through her. His eyes flashed as he swung his sword up to come at her again. Reiva merely reacted by thrusting the point of her unactivated pulsblade at his legs before angling it up to parry his chop. Sparks stung her hand where their blades met.
"Smart," Oric-El said calmly, "but what if I do this?" He kicked a spray of snow into her eyes.
Reiva tried to block her eyes with her left hand but was too slow. Blinded, she slashed her sword in front of her and over her head hoping to either give Oric-El a slash or intercept an incoming attack.
She heard Oric-El clicking his tongue off to her left, "Tsk tsk, Caserta, lashing out recklessly? Deprived of your sight you should have listened and assumed a ready guard position."
"Master, please, what are you doing!?" Reiva cried out, angrily flinging the snow off her face. She tried to twist towards her left to face Oric-El, the convenient crevasse restricting her.
"Evaluating." he idly cut falling snowfalkes as he gave her this single word.
"Evalutating? Evaluating... me?"
Oric-El looked around with exaggerated attention, "I see no one else."
"So you changed your mind?" Reiva said, hope beginning to built up inside her chest.
"One could say that. At first I wasn't sure, but once we got to talking and I found out you were a Caserta and your level of tenacity, I wanted to test you; see what you could do, what improvements you needed. Definitely not your father are you?"
"I... suppose not." Reiva wasn't exactly sure if that was a criticism or merely an observation.
Without warning, Oric-El brought the flat of his blade crashing into the side of Reiva's head, sword flying out of her hand. Her vision flickered out for a moment, everything covered in a black screen, as pain rocketed through her skull made worse by the severe cold. She felt hot blood dribbling down her neck and along her back. The pain, while sharp, was still only a shaking throb. It would get bad in a couple of seconds. Reiva clamped her mouth shut as she release a suppressed scream from her throat.
"What was that for!" she was able to force the words past her lips. The pain was getting worse, radiating out from the stripe on the side of her head like burning fingertips pressing against her skull.
"Not expecting it."
Reiva's vision flashed again and she realized her ear was still ringing, the sound of the blow reverberating a thousand times inside her eardrum. Oric-El stuck his sword in the snow.
"Well, I have to say I'm a little disappointed in you, young Caserta, I would have expected more from Avar and Quomi's daughter. But I am a perfectionist; we will make a swordsman out of you yet. First let's get you out of this hole. Always be aware of your environment, young Caserta."
Oric-El gripped both of Reiva's upper arms and pulled her free with no great effort. Reiva stayed lying in the snow, cradling the damaged side of her head in her arms. Blood fell down to stain the snow in a ring of droplets. Pulling up and sheathing his own sword, Oric-El picked up her pulsblade, flipping it around to offer her the hilt. Reiva, with a trembling hand reached up and grasped it.
"Come, it's getting dark, we should go back inside, and see to that blood ear of yours." With that, Oric-El Ged turned around and began trudging back to the abandoned. atrium without a backwards glance.
Reiva leaned on her pulsblade as she pulled herself slowly to her feet. So, this was it. She had accomplished her goal. Oric-El Ged was going to train her. Then why did she feel so sick? Reiva looked at Oric-El's receding back then at her waiting ship. No, there was no letting herself go back now, not after all she'd been through to get here, even if "here" was cold and painful.
Reiva Caserta, sheathing her pulsblade, looked one last time at her starship before following the footsteps of her new master, the evening wind throwing snow all around as the sun set behind her.
Another step forward; she set her boots down as quietly as she could, but still there was a dull click off the hard floor, the sound repulsed off dusty statues and the dark ceiling high above her. A noise scraped through the darkness, a noise other than her steps. Reiva turned towards the noise, or where she thought it came from, sword thrust out in front of her. The cutting edge of her weapon lit up bright blue, adding some light to the gloom and warning that the sword was now lethal.
Reiva kept the open doors to her back, letting the rectangle of gray light seep into the dark room in front of her. The light was meager but it gave her some comfort. She was also careful to always keep the opening in her peripheral vision; she didn't want something or someone getting between her escape route with out her knowing.
"Oric-El!" she called again.
The statues veiled in cobwebs gave no reply. Nothing stirred in the chamber. The fountains stood empty, the upturned chairs and broken chandeliers lay covered in decay, even the wind whispering in from the open doors seemed to lie still. Reiva lowered her sword so she could see better, trying desperately to find what she had come so far for.
The doors slammed shut behind her.
Reiva tensed, forcing herself not to jump or gasp, her knuckles white as she squeezed the hilt of her sword. Blood trickled from where her teeth and sunk into her lower lip. The sword was back up into the guard position, her hands no longer shaking. Though her heart was definitely shaking. Reiva's eyes were trying desperately to pierce the gloom, to stop an attacker she knew must be there. A shadow moved on the edge of her vision. Reiva looked up. A shadow, darker than the shadows around it, stood on a balcony many meters in front of her.
"If you've come to kill me, you've done a pretty bad job of going about it." said the shadow.
Three remaining lights of a chandelier flickered on, feebly attempting to fill the cavernous room with their orange light.
Oric-El Ged stood on the balcony above Reiva. His eyes were dark, his face, set like iron, was framed by dusty brown hair streaked with storm gray. His sword was sheathed and rested on his shoulder. She took a shuddering breath, hoping the scowling eyes above her didn't see, before composing herself. Holding her head hugh and sword firmly in her hands, Reiva looked Oric-El in the eyes as she adressed him.
"I am not here to kill you, Master Oric–"
"Ha!" Oric-El interrupted her with a barking laugh, "'Master Oric-El'? Here we are on a desolate world far from the Empire, and yet you, girl, persist on civility."
"I meant no disrespect, Master Ged–
"Please, call me Oric-El. It was what my mother called me, and since you and her are both women, I suppose it is appropriate." Oric-El sneered.
"–it's just I have come very far to–"
"Far!? You come here to complain to me how far you've come? I can tell you a thing or two about far!" Oric-El spat down at her.
"–ask for your help." Reiva held her mounting frustration in as Oric-El's sour complexion continued to spoil, "See, my name is Reiva–"
"Bah!" shouted Oric-El, waving his hand, "Leave now, Reiva, if you know what's good for you! Now I'm not sure how you found me or why you have obviously stolen your father's pulsblade. Now go: I have no interest in you." Oric-El turned his back on her.
"Caserta!" she screamed, her anger and pent up emotions pouring out, "Reiva Caserta! Daughter of Avar and Quomi Caserta! And this is my own pulsblade, I have enough of a conscience not to steal, even from my parents. Unlike you!"
Reiva immediately regretted saying the last part.
Oric-El Ged turned back around slowly. His eyes–when Reiva finally looked up at them–were devoid of any emotion, his face unmoving. Oric-El seemed to ponder what she had just said for several minutes while at the same time examining her, studying her stance, her breathing, the way she held her weapon. Reiva swallowed hard and readjusted her grip on her sword.
When he finally spoke, Oric-El's voice was quiet, almost soft, "Caserta? That is a name I know well. What is the daughter of heroes doing here on Vaaherdon? What do you want of Oric-El Ged?"
"I want you to train me!" Reiva said, her relief tangible; finally, after all her trials, she had made it to the point.
Oric-El's eyes, like the tip of a sword, glinted as they suddenly focused on her.
"No." his reply echoed coldly among the stone buttresses.
"But you don't understand! I have to be trained: my mother needs me!" All of her relief was washed away. Was Oric-El really that inimical?
"No is no, young Reiva Caserta."
"But–but why?"
"Because," Oric-El turned back around, "I don't want to. I swore never to take another apprentice."
"So... so you won't train?" Reiva let her pulsblade hang limply at her side.
"How else shall I put it than 'no'? You are a girl with a sword to big for her; leave, and find some other master."
"But there is none! None of your skill at least. You're Oric-El Ged; you mastered Tosai style when you were twenty! You and–"
Oric-El's face was before hers, his eyes and hard face filling her vision. The balcony stood empty, fifteen meters of empty air between where Reiva was and it.
"Leave." Oric-El's breath was hot as it washed over Reiva's face, "There's the door."
The doors opened outwards all by themselves. Reiva furtively looked up into Oric-El's eyes; they flashed, challenging her to disobey him. Reiva took a step backwards, eyes downcast. She spun around and crammed her sword back in its sheath, then left through the doors out into the cold wind. Reiva Caserta gave the ruined building one last look before trudging back to her ship, angrily wiping tears from her eyes.
Her ship was in sight. The familiar colors and lights of what had become her mobile home brought no comfort to her though. Reiva was empty. She was at a loss, out of ideas, at a dead end. Going to Oric-El Ged was a gamble, she knew, but she had hoped–like a fool–that he would train her. Now she saw why he was an exile. Suddenly the snow under her right boot gave way and her foot slid into a tiny crevasse Rock bit painfully into her leg as she tugged and pulled, her breath steaming in the cold as she gave an angry yelp. She heard a crunch of snow somewhere behind. Reiva strained her neck as she probed the white rolls of hills behind her, at the same time snatching at the handle of her pulsblade. Then she saw him. Coming from the direction of the ruined plaza was Oric-El Ged, naked sword blade glinting in the gray light. Heart beating like a hammer against her chest, Reiva pulled desperately at her sword; the awkward angle she was at because of her trapped leg made this hard. Oric-El was almost upon her when her pulsblade finally slid into her hand. And just in time, too. Sparks flew into the snowy air as Reiva blocked Oric-El's chop meant to cleave her in half.
"What are you doing!?" Reiva screamed.
The answer she got was a sword blade along her side, opening a slit in her side that stained the snow red. Oric-El's pulsblade wasn't glowing, otherwise the the sword stroke would've cut right through her. His eyes flashed as he swung his sword up to come at her again. Reiva merely reacted by thrusting the point of her unactivated pulsblade at his legs before angling it up to parry his chop. Sparks stung her hand where their blades met.
"Smart," Oric-El said calmly, "but what if I do this?" He kicked a spray of snow into her eyes.
Reiva tried to block her eyes with her left hand but was too slow. Blinded, she slashed her sword in front of her and over her head hoping to either give Oric-El a slash or intercept an incoming attack.
She heard Oric-El clicking his tongue off to her left, "Tsk tsk, Caserta, lashing out recklessly? Deprived of your sight you should have listened and assumed a ready guard position."
"Master, please, what are you doing!?" Reiva cried out, angrily flinging the snow off her face. She tried to twist towards her left to face Oric-El, the convenient crevasse restricting her.
"Evaluating." he idly cut falling snowfalkes as he gave her this single word.
"Evalutating? Evaluating... me?"
Oric-El looked around with exaggerated attention, "I see no one else."
"So you changed your mind?" Reiva said, hope beginning to built up inside her chest.
"One could say that. At first I wasn't sure, but once we got to talking and I found out you were a Caserta and your level of tenacity, I wanted to test you; see what you could do, what improvements you needed. Definitely not your father are you?"
"I... suppose not." Reiva wasn't exactly sure if that was a criticism or merely an observation.
Without warning, Oric-El brought the flat of his blade crashing into the side of Reiva's head, sword flying out of her hand. Her vision flickered out for a moment, everything covered in a black screen, as pain rocketed through her skull made worse by the severe cold. She felt hot blood dribbling down her neck and along her back. The pain, while sharp, was still only a shaking throb. It would get bad in a couple of seconds. Reiva clamped her mouth shut as she release a suppressed scream from her throat.
"What was that for!" she was able to force the words past her lips. The pain was getting worse, radiating out from the stripe on the side of her head like burning fingertips pressing against her skull.
"Not expecting it."
Reiva's vision flashed again and she realized her ear was still ringing, the sound of the blow reverberating a thousand times inside her eardrum. Oric-El stuck his sword in the snow.
"Well, I have to say I'm a little disappointed in you, young Caserta, I would have expected more from Avar and Quomi's daughter. But I am a perfectionist; we will make a swordsman out of you yet. First let's get you out of this hole. Always be aware of your environment, young Caserta."
Oric-El gripped both of Reiva's upper arms and pulled her free with no great effort. Reiva stayed lying in the snow, cradling the damaged side of her head in her arms. Blood fell down to stain the snow in a ring of droplets. Pulling up and sheathing his own sword, Oric-El picked up her pulsblade, flipping it around to offer her the hilt. Reiva, with a trembling hand reached up and grasped it.
"Come, it's getting dark, we should go back inside, and see to that blood ear of yours." With that, Oric-El Ged turned around and began trudging back to the abandoned. atrium without a backwards glance.
Reiva leaned on her pulsblade as she pulled herself slowly to her feet. So, this was it. She had accomplished her goal. Oric-El Ged was going to train her. Then why did she feel so sick? Reiva looked at Oric-El's receding back then at her waiting ship. No, there was no letting herself go back now, not after all she'd been through to get here, even if "here" was cold and painful.
Reiva Caserta, sheathing her pulsblade, looked one last time at her starship before following the footsteps of her new master, the evening wind throwing snow all around as the sun set behind her.
