“Again.”
The ringing of steel clashing against steel follows in succession of labored grunts. The light of day gives a shiny sheen to the sweat dripping down Ryuden’s face. His body grows more tired with each passing moment. As he circles Yanna, he tightens his grip on the familiar blade in his hands. He watches her stepping, waiting for an opening in her guard.
“You’re getting better,” says Yanna, a smug expression on her face. The confidence enveloping her is hauntingly irritating. “Maybe you’ll catch up to me, someday.”
“And if some day is today?” Lunging forth, Ryuden brings his sword upward in an uppercut motion. As Yanna parries with one of her two, he lets his body come forward, compensating for a loss of his balance with an advancing step. He brings his blade back, quickly countering Yanna’s attempt to bring her other blade up. Ryuden’s free hand grips Yanna’s wrist to keep the other blade from meeting his skin, and he meets Yanna’s focused eyes.
Then, Yanna hooks a leg around Ryuden’s, and pushes forth enough to knock him down. Her blades rush towards his throat, but stop with barely a gap between flesh and steel. “Not today,” she muses, before she pulls her blades away. She sheaths them at her hips and offers him a hand. “But, I’m impressed. You’re not as poor in swordplay as I had figured.”
Pulled up onto his feet, Ryuden sheaths his weapon, and dusts himself off, freeing him of loose dirt and leaves. “I’ve had plenty of practice.”
“So I see. Well, it’s time to put that practice into play.” Yanna leans against the thick trunk of a tall oak. “However, this job is a big one. Carry your weight, and not only will you survive, you will show the others that you can keep up.”
“The others?” Ryuden raises a brow. “Where have they been?”
“Right here.”
Twisting around, Ryuden’s eyes meet those of a stranger, a man who folds his arms over his chest. Despite his lack of lethal means, even being near the man is enough to make Ryuden a little uneasy.
“Don’t worry,” the man says with a warm grin, “had I wished to kill you, I would have done so the moment I returned. The rest of us are waiting at the rendezvous in the Shattered Spire, when you two are ready.” He takes a step closer to Ryuden, extending a hand. “You can call me Chircter, and I’m sure you’re well acquainted with our thorned rose, Yanna.”
“Ryuden.” Keeping his hands at his sides, Ryuden stares Chircter in the eyes. The way this man carries himself, his passive attitude, his seemingly open attitude, the blatancy; if forces Ryuden to compare him with Kelyn.
And makes Ryuden despise him.
“Have you already explained the plan, Yanna?” Chircter asks.
Yanna shakes her head. “I was just getting to it before you arrived.”
“That’s fine. It gives me to the opportunity to review everything with the others.” Chircter steps away from Ryuden, looking over to Yanna. “You may want to get a set of armor for Ryuden, it’ll make it easier for the rest not to butcher him by mistake.”
With a nod, Yanna heads towards the outpost.
“She’s one of the best,” Chircter says, turning his focus back to Ryuden. “I’m sure you’re more than ready for the job, if she’s willing to take you in under her wing.” When Ryuden says nothing in turn, he chuckles, looking down at the ground -- balded from countless hours of vigorous sparring. “The strong, silent type, right? I remember someone of that caliber in your place before.” Approaching Ryuden again, Chircter lowers his voice. “The one thing about the strong and silent is that they are never heard when they cry for help.”
“Neither can they hear the pleas of others.”
Grinning, Chircter takes a step back. “So, you’re a man of more than just one word, after all. What has Yanna explained to you as far as our code goes?”
“Nothing.”
“I see. Well, there are three things you must adhere to.” Chircter raises three fingers, as if to help Ryuden keep count. “We don’t trade the blood of our brethren. We do not let our hearts steer our blade.”
“And the third?” asks Ryuden.
With a chuckle, Chircter looks past Ryuden. “Yanna, do you have his garb?”
“There is a problem with that,” Yanna says, a bundle tucked under her arm. “Our nightsilk stores are depleted.”
“Empty?” Chircter frowns, his lips curving in a way that amuses Ryuden. “I fail to understand. How do we go through our entire store so quickly? What if we need to mend our armor?”
“That is a matter to tend to after the contract is over with.” Yanna offers a simple shrug, before offering Ryuden the bundle. “This belonged to one of our order, before…” She clears her throat. “I think it will fit you.”
“Yanna!” Chircter steps in between her and Ryuden. “We both know better than to give him those--”
“Why? Because pride outweighs necessity?”
“No,” Chircter replies. “Because it is bad luck.”
“Luck?” Yanna glares at him, the warm, tender veil over her calloused attitude lifted. “What place does superstition have amongst cutthroats who feign honor? Especially one who shifted loyalty with the clink of a coin?” Earning Chircter’s silence, she walks past him, regaining her composure before offering Ryuden the bundle. “Take this, we’ll set off when you are ready.”
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