Chapter Three

“We don't consider a patient cured when his sprain has healed or he's been restored to a minimal level of functioning. The patient is cured when he can again do the things he loves to do.” " Unknown

 

 

Kyari stood in the middle of the arena, waiting for him to arrive.

Seth arrived to the fighting ground roughly three minutes late, using his quarterstaff as a normal walking stick. Besides the carefully shaped length of wood, he carried no other weapon.

"Sorry I'm late. It seems I can't walk quite as fast as I'd like to just yet." He stopped in front of Kyari and slowly brought his staff into a defensive stance. "I thought I'd take it easy today, so just the old bonking stick for now," he grinned.

She smiled in reply. "Then it's a good thing I just brought a practice sword," she laughed, pulling out a piece of wood that looked more like a child's toy.

"I wonder what the chances are of one of us still getting a serous injury despite all this," he laughed, before shaking his head. "Ah well, no pain, no gain, right?" He took a few steps towards her, and made a tentative horizontal swing at her waist.

She easily blocked it, smiling. "I highly doubt we'll get more than bruises."

"Let's hope," he grunted as he reversed the grip of his right hand, and flipped the staff upward, sending the other end of the staff flying at her chin.

She stepped back, blocking the blow once again. "Not worrying about mortal wounds definitely provides time for conversation."

"Peachy," he grunted as he reversed his grip on the quarterstaff once more and sent the bludgeon spinning horizontally towards her head. "Now I can't tell whether we're having tea or trying to whack each other upside the head."

This time she ducked and swung at his feet, "Does it matter?”

With nothing to stop his momentum, his swipe sent him into a spin which he took advantage of, lowering the opposite end of his staff to counter her strike. "It matters because I'm quite sure that the more I talk, the more likely I am to screw up royally." He gave the staff an upward flip, again aiming at her chin.

"You should be able to get good enough where conversation won't distract you." She continued to parry his strikes, almost never returning one of her own.

“Well until that wonderful point in time,” he jabbed his stave forward at her gut, “please excuse me if I’m more than a little annoyed at that particular handicap right now!”

She took the blow, stumbling backwards slightly. "Now I'm going to have a bruise there," she jokingly complained.

"'Bout time..." he muttered as he quickly backed away, expecting a trap.

"That I took a hit?" She shrugged. "I don't mind getting bruised. Means I'm learning." She stayed back, letting him continue to make the first move.

He was about to attack her once more, but something clicked in his mind.

She said 'took'. He narrowed his eyes, backing away once more. “Oh no, I'm not going to fall for that old shtick."

She raised her eyebrows. "You seem to think I keep my untruthful persona on all the time. Didn't the conversation we had yesterday cure you of that?"

"Sorry." He sighed. "Force of habit. I'm used to playing... mind games." He stepped forward and tried to bring the staff down on her head.

She brought her sword upward, blocking it, and then finally took a swing at his midsection.

Quickly switching the grip of his left hand to the other side of the staff, he brought the butt of the stave forward to meet the swing, giving a little ground as his leg buckled slightly.

"Ah geez, stupid thing's flimsier than a paper fan." He reversed his right hand's grip, and sent the fore of the staff spinning sideways at her head. "Well, I don't have to defend if you can't attack!"

She ducked again, coming up behind him, holding the sword point to the back of his neck. "If this was a real sword..."

"If that was a real sword..." He calmly walked away from the wooden weapon. "I doubt I'd still be fighting with a completely intact staff." He brought his staff up in front of himself, gripping it right in the middle. "Thanks for the reminder though."

"You're welcome." She frowned. "Your leg's not doing so well." It wasn't a question.

"No it isn't, but it's not really supposed to be." He laughed. "It's not going to recover if I mollycoddle it, at least not at the rate I want it to. I'm sure it'll let me know if it's being pushed too far."

"It seems to be a little drastic to heal it by fighting on it."

"If I don't use it the way I intend to use it, it won't heal the way I want it to." He replied, finally getting tired of waiting and stepping forward to deliver a horizontal slash at her legs.

She blocked it once again. "This seems mere child's play without the risk. Now I remember why I fight like my life depends on it. I learn so much more."

She threw her sword to the side. "I can't fight like this. These may be training fights, but I can't train you or train myself."

Author's Note

Training will be added at the end later when I have more time.