Part Two: Unforgotten

Chapter 26

Summer deepened. The days grew longer, the light grew stronger, and the world around Fiell blossomed. The beauty stood in stark contrast to the mood of Vealand’s capital. The border disputes were blossoming into something bigger. Full blown battles were erupting on the southern borders and the constant friction with the north only deepened as the days grew longer.

The city of Fiell, though bathed in light, seemed to be living in the shadows that the light cast longer. Aris Ravenscroft’s notoriety slowly faded as the worries that the attempt on the life of Vealand’s Emperor Evrain seemed to unlock seemed to borrow deeper into the thoughts of the populace of the capital city.

The mood in the Ravenscroft estate had shifted along with the rest of the world around it. Wallace’s reintroduction into their lives and the appearance of Kestrel changed the ‘normal’ life that Aris’ family once had. Their whole world had tilted with the introduction of the two strange men.

When Kestrel had recovered from his fainting spell he had stubbornly refused any medical help until Aris had answered his questions.

Aris had sworn that he hadn’t known of the attack, but he had trusted Kestrel and had the incident investigated.

Progress was agonizingly slow. Whatever had happened, it was actively being covered up…and more than likely, with the help from someone in a high position.

The question was why?

It was only one of thousands of questions that the memories that had flooded Aris’ mind had brought him. There were too many for him to ever hope to answer.

One he needed to figure out first though was what to do with the young man Kestrel. Aris saw much of himself in the former wastrel. He saw that same drive to prove the world wrong, that same ambition to spite his roots and make something of himself where there had only been tragedy before.

He was far too much like Aris.

Van had been but seventeen when he had taken his brother Aris with him and joined the military in their mission of expansion. It was a hard life. One filled with struggle and violence. Still, anything was better than the constant abuse from their drunkard of a father. Compared to their regular beatings at their father’s hands, their spartan life in the military was like heaven.

In the military both Aris and his elder brother Van had been able to distinguish themselves with their excellence.

Aris was able to prove the words of his father saying that he would never amount anything wrong.

He had able to quiet that voice.

Somewhat.

Aris saw in Kestrel the same hunger to prove the world wrong that he’d had as a younger man before he had met his wife Corrine.

The skinny, sandy haired youth was desperate to defy his position in life. To tell the world that he indeed was someone and he would do whatever it took to do so.

Kestrel's intensity was frightening at times. Aris would always be thankful for Corrine’s tempering of him.

What was Aris to think of Kestrel’s connection to his niece Sephira? Was it right? Was it safe for her? Could Aris, as a surrogate father, allow the growing affection between Kestrel and Sephira, who despite their differences, gravitated towards each other as if they were drawn by magnet?

Was it wise to allow their affection to grow?

He came to Corrine with his misgivings, spluttering every problem that was eating at his mind with the two and she raised her eyebrows in the way that spoke paragraphs without ever uttering a single word.

That look ate at Aris. It made him feel guilty for not telling her everything that was happening. He knew he was keeping her safe. He knew he was doing the right thing. But at what cost? The worst thing was that she knew he was keeping those secrets from him but still she remained silent.

Guilt ate at him.

When his arguments had been deflated by her withering eyes, she finally asked him. “So when are you going to train him?”

“What?”

“Honey, everyone can see that you’re dying to show him what you wished you had learned from your father. So you’re gonna train him and give him what was never given to you. What happens with Sephira doesn’t matter right now,” Her eyes pierced through him and spoke at what he hadn’t realized he was feeling. “First you will train him because it’s right. You know the right thing to do and one of the reasons why I love you is that you always choose what’s right regardless of what anyone else does. After that we can worry about him and our Sephira.”

She was right. That happened far too often.

He nodded. “You’re probably right.”

“Only probably?” Corrine laughed at him. “You know me well enough to know I’m always right.”

“Only when you’re agreeing with me,” his baritone laugh echoed with hers and he pulled her into an embrace. “I do need to train him. If only because I dragged him into my mess. But before I start training him, we need to do a little physical training of our own,” Aris’ eyebrows danced up and down suggestively and Corrine giggled when he pulled her down into the bed with him.

*****

“Are you ready?” Aris asked Kestrel who nodded in reply. “You said you wanted to learn, so I won’t take it easy on you. You’re going to hurt nearly as bad as you did when you were injured. Are you sure this is what you really want?”

Corrine’s words had sunk into Aris’s mind over the passing weeks and when Kestrel had nearly returned to the strength he’d previously had, he had approached the young man with Corrine’s idea of training him. The young man said yes without hesitation. There hadn’t been the slightest hint of doubt in Kestrels eyes when he’d described the vigorous training process that he’d go through if he accepted Aris’s offer. Kestrel was determined to learn everything he possibly could from the General.

Aris wondered how much Kestrel’s choices were determined by a determination to never again have something happen to one he loved like what had happened to his ward Cillia.

“I’m used to pain, at least this time it’ll be useful” Kestrel replied.

Such sad words coming from someone so young. Aris knew exactly where Kestrel was coming from.

“Okay, then let’s begin.”

Aris tossed a new metalvine that he had had Kestrel select. “This metalvine here is your lifeline. It will become more than a weapon, it will become an extension of yourself. Imagine that it’s another part of your hand. Do you understand?”

Kestrel nodded and gave the metalvine a couple of practice swings.

“And that’s exactly how you shouldn’t do it,” Aris said as he watched the novice swipes. “You’re treating it like it’s a weapon. You’re making it something separate from you. It should follow you,” he said. “Watch me.”

Aris began one of the most basic Falis metalvine katas. His feet led while the weapon danced in the air, following his lead like a partner that had been to a thousand balls with him.

Soon the vine picked up speed and blurred in the air. The hardened wood became near invisible as Aris flowed from kata to kata, such was his speed.

By the time he finished his routine he had barely broken a sweat.

Kestrel looked at his own sweat covered body.

He felt like an idiot.

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“The reason why you’re tired is because you were trying to force power from yourself. You were exerting yourself trying to force something that flows from you naturally if you just let it.” Aris explained to Kestrel. “The power comes from here,” Aris slapped Kestrel’s hip. “Your center of gravity, your balance, is your power. Everything come from your hips. Your hips lead the violent dance.”

Aris nodded to Wallace who was watching. His arm was still in a sling and probably would be for quite a while longer, and the old man went to grab a guardsman who returned with a heavy bag of coconuts from the far south in tow.

Aris grabbed one from the bag and set it atop a post with a deep groove that held the lower half of the fruit in place.

Kestrel could tell this was a common training method.

“Hit it,” he commanded Kestrel.

Kestrel cocked his shoulder back and swung the metalvine downwards. He let out a curse as the shock from his strike from the reverberated through his arm, causing him to drop the weapon.

Aris laughed and stepped up to the post. Kestrel barely caught the snapping twist of the General’s hips and with a loud crack, the coconut split open, exposing the white meat inside.

Aris picked up the bottom half and offered it to Kestrel. “Drink it. It’s quite refreshing. And you’re going to need the energy it will give later.”

Kestrel raised an eyebrow, was Aris playing a trick on him?

“If you don’t want it, I’ll have it,” Aris began to pour the clear liquid into his mouth.

“I’ll try some,” Kestrel said reluctantly. The General really did seem to enjoy the liquid. Maybe he was playing a cruel trick on him, but even so, he would weather the hazing if it meant he could learn from a Falis Master.

“There’s not much left,” Aris replied as he offered the little coconut milk that was left to Kestrel.

Kestrel sniffed it, and found the aroma surprisingly pleasant. He downed the little juice that was left. His eyes widened in wonder. “That was the best thing I’ve ever drank!” his laugh reminded Aris of just how young the boy truly was.

He often forget just how Kestrel was. He had been forced to grow up too quickly.

Just like Aris.

Aris smiled. “Did you see what I did differently?” he asked. “You tried to force the metalvine through the coconut. I pierced it from my core. If you don’t lead with your center, you’ll never crack open a nut or anything life puts before you. Watch how I lead with my hips. Everything comes from my center. Your movement manifests from wherever your center is. If your center is off like yours was, then everything else will be off and nothing will be effective. Now try again, and put your feet here and here.”

Kestrel followed Aris’s instructions and placed left foot forward with his toes facing the post. He then placed his rear foot a step back and to the right. He settled into his stance as he’d seen Aris do earlier.

“Good. But your placement is still off,” Aris said and sent a quick push kick into Kestrel’s thigh, knocking the young man to the ground.

Kestrel glowered at the General, but quickly regained his footing.

“You had your front foot in the right place, but your rear leg was under your hips. If you stand like that, your center of balance will align with your rear foot, essentially creating one solid line. Of course you’re going to be toppled over if that happens,” Aris explained. “Now put your rear foot further back and have your toes make a ‘V’ shape with your lead foot.”

Kestrel nodded and settled in.

“Now take a breath and settle your weight.”

Kestrel nodded. The breath helped the tension leak from his tightened muscles. No sooner had he finished exhaling then Aris sent another powerful kick to the side of his thigh. He smiled when he kept his balance and shifted back to his initial positioning.

Aris grinned. Teaching his recruits Falis was one of his favorite perks of the job. He had dreamed, in another life, of living simply and owning his own studio where he would take in those like Kestrel in and train them in the martial arts that had became an essential part of his life.

“Now remember this stance and that feeling. Because any time that you forget it, I’m going to punish you for it,” Aris let out a devilish grin and commanded Kestrel to do a series of footwork drills.

Aris held true to his promise and any time that Kestrel’s feet slipped into an unbalanced position, he would find himself on the ground. Half the time he didn’t even see what Aris had hit him with. By the time their first training session was over Kestrel felt like he could barely stand, but Aris forced him to stretch, then led him on a jog that led them to a nearby icy stream that he forced Kestrel to stand in to keep swelling down.

After that first day that the General had used as a test to evaluate his new student’s level of skill, Aris had Kestrel abandon the metalvine and focused on his footwork.

Each day for the first week passed the same way and soon the mistakes that were common occurrences in Kestrel’s drilling became the exceptions. The first of the two hour long sessions that Kestrel had completed without making a mistake in his footwork signaled Aris that his young student was ready to move forward.

“Good good. Now tomorrow we will work on your hands. You’ll never know how to fight with a metalvine if you don’t know how to fight with your hands and feet first,” Aris said.

The next day they met in the courtyard. The previous night’s rain had made the courtyard into a muddied mess. But that didn’t discourage Kestrel though. From the moment that he had seen Aris crack open the strange fruit he’d called a coconut with such ease, Kestrel had set a goal to overpower the man.

“You’re here. I’m glad this mess didn’t scare you off,” Aris said when Kestrel arrived from the barracks he’d taken up residence in.

Kestrel smiled. “You’re kidding right? I’ve lived on the streets through the worst of storms. You really think that a little mud is enough to stop me? Or is it that you’re afraid I’ll soon surpass you?”

“That’s a long way off. But you can dream. Now let me see what you have,” Aris laughed and hung up his General’s coat. Then he took off his shirt, exposing his short and square, but well muscled, physique. “Corrine will be angry enough at me already for the laundry, so I figure the less there is to wash, the better,” he explained. “Now come at me.”

Kestrel nodded, not bothering to take off his already dirtied clothes and rushed in with a with a series of looping hooks that Aris evaded with ease. Kestrel used the momentum of the missed blows and connected with a spinning kick that felt as if it had landed on a brick wall.

Kestrel cursed as he caught Aris’s laughing eyes. He quickly set his feet and aimed a series of jabs that Aris easily slipped. Kestrel growled in frustration, but stayed patient and was rewarded as he caught Aris with a body shot that caused the General to grimace in pain. Kestrel smiled raised his knee to aim a follow-up kick at Aris and the next thing he knew he felt a throbbing pain in his support leg and found himself slamming into the ground.

“What happened? How’d you do that?” Kestrel asked as he picked himself off of the muddy ground. His ankle throbbed in pain.

“I like to call it a ‘Diver’s Kick’,” Aris responded. “I could see your kick coming from a mile away, so I waited until you raised your leg and came in with a kick of my own aimed at the ankle of your support leg. You know what happened next.”

“I’m going to have to learn that one,” Kestrel said.

Aris grinned and helped Kestrel back to his feet. He then curled his fingers inwards in an invitation for Kestrel’s next attack. Kestrel whipped off his muddied shirt —moving much more freely afterwards— and feinted with a jab that led into a front kick he was sure would connect with Aris. The General surprised Kestrel by catching it, then, with a quick yank in ‘U’ shaped motion, he toppled Kestrel to the muddy ground that squished underneath him.

Now was the time for the real test. How would Kestrel react when emotionally compromised?

“Nice instincts, but you’re gonna have to try harder if you actually want to hit me. Or do you want to be killed like your precious little rat Cillia was?” Aris said in a scornful tone. He felt a pang in his side as he said the words, but he needed to see how Kestrel fought when he was angry.

Would he forget everything he’d learned and rush in blindly? Or would he keep his head about him?

Aris remembered his training and he had hated the verbal abuse that had been leveled at him, but it’d been an efficient tool that had drilled its lessons into his bones.

Kestrel’s eyes narrowed in anger and he rushed at Aris with a series of wide hooks that the General dodged with ease. He noticed that Kestrel kept his footing and he allowed himself a small inwards exultation at his effective teaching, but Kestrel’s blows were filled with blind anger. The death of his young comrade burned inside of him and bubbled like an infected wound.

Missing with the hooks he sent out a sloppy kick at an odd angle that caught Aris, but failed to do any damage because of the lack of torque on the blow.

“Come on you worthless rat!” Aris yelled at Kestrel, who’s anger clarified and focused to a pinpoint.

Instead of running in, Kestrel let out a series of controlled low kicks aimed at Aris’s lead calf. Aris easily evaded the oncoming blows, but didn’t notice the back-fist that they hid and took a solid blow to the side of the face that he was sure would be bruised come evening time. Kestrel then followed his stunning blow by dropping levels and driving his shoulder into Aris’s gut. He dropped the General to the ground.

Kestrel cocked back his arm to land a devastating blow on the General’s face, but Aris quickly snatched Kestrel’s arm and wrapped his legs around Kestrel’s neck, choking him. Kestrel struggled against it, but each movement cinched Aris’s clinch tighter around his neck. “Calm down!” Aris shouted.

Kestrel started to panic as the blood flow lessened and his vision danced. His movements became even jerkier.

“Calm down! Calm down!” Aris shouted at him, still holding him tightly in the triangle choke. He wished to let go but Kestrel’s panic was dangerous for the both of them so he held on until Kestrel’s body went limp. Then he let go and rolled him onto his back and tilted his head to make sure that he had proper airflow.

A few seconds later Kestrel’s eyes fluttered open and he was back to his feet within a minute. He glared at Aris but said nothing, instead he grimaced at the General with an obvious distaste in his mouth.

“You hate me for what I said, don’t you?” Aris asked. “I can assure you that I didn’t mean a single thing. I was merely trying to assess how you would react in your basest state. I wanted to see how you carried yourself when you were enraged. To see if you could channel it or if it would overwhelm you.”

The anger in Kestrels eyes burned a little while longer but fizzled out as reason set in. He had quickly learned that Aris was a man of his word.

If Aris said he hadn’t meant it, then he hadn’t.

“That’s a really low way to test your students.”

“But it worked, didn’t it?” Aris asked.

Kestrel nodded. “I guess so…”

“Good. Now lets correct some of the problems you showed when I got you enraged. The good news is that despite your anger, you showed promise and even were able to surprise me with some unorthodox combinations. The bad news, though, is that if you ever let your emotions blind you like that again, instead of just being choked out, you’ll be dead. I can guarantee that to you right now. Do you understand? Your anger WILL get you killed.”

Kestrel nodded. He didn’t want to hear it, but as soon as the words had left the General’s mouth, they had struck a chord deep inside him.

Anger was a part of him. Kestrel didn’t know who he was without the resentment that boiled constantly under the surface. If he were to face it and abandon it as Aris wished, what would he become?