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Mark of the Deathwalker
Chapter 12: Daven Croxron - Matrioska

Chapter 12: Daven Croxron - Matrioska

Trees peppered the low hills that surrounded ‘The Seine’. The Seine itself spanned a good portion of the horizon, but even from the topmost of the hills that surrounded the lake, one could make out the beginning of her sister; The Marne. The two lakes were the culmination of water that flowed from the mountains beyond Indigo’s Gabros, through Reyah’s Lace, quenching the thirst of Andescion and the Bloodwood Forest, splitting off to form the two sister lakes.

The flat spots of grass that the area provided were more yellow than green, making for a crisp versus damp playing field. On the outskirts of where the Legions made camp, many were sharpening blades, practicing sword and shield, and piercing shaft through barrels of hay with the recurve bows, flanked by longbows. The recruits however, would have their own game to play.

Today’s exercise was set up with eight targets strafed far apart on either end, running the full length of the clearing. Placed drastically far apart. Four staggered in a line, with four diagonally parallel on the other. The goal of which to condemn each target in the shortest amount of time possible. If one simply ran down the line of targets on the left then shifted back up towards the right, they would never find the energy to strike them all. Should they run back and forth between left to right, they would tire as well unless they can utilize the sruth within them. A necessary feat for survival in the heat of combat.

Alaeic walked up next to Daven while the recruits lined up around Genna. “I haven’t missed Genna’s routine, have I?”

Daven smiled from the corners of his lips, watching Clydas take his walk back to the starting line, “Not yet.”

The first of the runs Genna would let them have at it in any way they could muster. With the intent to burn them down physically.

Ellec had the first go. Confident in his approach despite the uncertainty of the appropriate method to take. Genna would most certainly not advise them on the best way to attack their targets until they were humbled a bit.

He went down the line on the y axis with his greatsword, slashing the targets on the left, his pace slowing in between each target. By the fourth he was down to a walking pace, dragged down by the weight of his sword and armor.

The next was Allia. Splitting the sisters seems to make a far more even match for the other two. Allia took up the same confidence as Ellec as she sprinted her way towards the first target on the left side. Learning from his mistake, she made for the right target next. The distance between the targets this approach was greater, but more efficient when utilized properly.

Allia made it to the third target at a decent pace, but fell drastically behind by the fourth, and came to a near standstill by the fifth.

Ovaria took her sister’s path and managed to push a little further, nearly making it to the sixth target, but still not with the speed needed.

Clydas managed to make it to the sixth target as well before he tired out, and each step back towards the start grew in frustration rather than tiredness.

Genna smiled while the four recruits caught their breath. Standing before them with her hands behind her back. “Here you see the limits of your physical prowess. You could spend cycles building up your strength, moving about in your armor, and it would still be a tiresome task to strike targets from such an expansive distance.”

Genna turned to face the battlefield laid out before them. “If you wish to endure the heat of battle, and outlast the physical strength of your enemy, you must strengthen a different muscle.”

The four watched intently, each more eager than the last to take another run at the course. Ellec and Ovaria especially.

Genna continued, “The only way to complete this course at full speed is by harnessing your sruth. Free yourself from the metal in your hands, the leather on your back,” Turning to Ellec, “and turn the power of the weapons you bear to the nimble momentum of a dagger. Turn the weight of plated steel to the maneuverability of an archer’s leather.”

Still struggling to find his breath again, Clydas eyed Ellec’s greatsword over his shoulder. “I’ll outpace his greatsword any day.”

Genna turned to face Clydas, “The more time you spend strengthening your sruth, the less the weight of your weapons hold you down.”

Panting, Clydas held himself up with his hands on his knees, “With all due respect Preceptor Ullenbow, there is no way he’s running through that course faster with a greatsword than a dagger.”

Genna raised her eyebrows at him, “Oh really, Clydas?”

Genna strode up to the front of the line, unsheathing the greatsword from her back. Without taking her glare off the course ahead, “Give me yours.”

Ellec glanced around, “Pardon, Preceptor?”

“Give me your sword.”

Slowly unsheathing his blade from his back, he curiously handed her the two-handed weapon by the hilt.

Grasping the weight of the two greatswords in each hand, she let the tips of the blades fall behind her just above the dirt, not enough to touch, as that would just dull the blades, holding them at the hilt like daggers.

At the snap of a finger, she was in full sprint at the first makeshift target, bringing the left greatsword up in a swipe like a dagger, leaving a gash in the wooden neck of the target.

Strafing her way diagonally to the next one she repositioned the left sword while the right one rested idly. The hilt now sitting in her hand like a shortsword she slashed at the next target once with the left and on the downward swing of the left, her right arm brought the daggerlike motion of the right at the neck of the target leaving two deep gashes in the target.

Without missing a beat, both her arms swung back letting the hilts shift in her hands back to dagger position, and pivoting her right foot off the ground, she leapt towards the next target back on the left.

One by one she pounced upon the targets, without using the gap-closing amperic strike. Her sruth moved about her flawlessly. Each toned physical muscle in sync with the eneryia surging within her.

Reaching the eighth target she shouted with exertion as she hurled Ellec’s greatsword at the chest of the wooden target. As the sword struck broadside, chipping inwards, her own sword chopped off the wooden head in a final swoop. Perfection.

With her own blade resting upon her shoulder, she marched back to the recruits with the same emotionless expression she wore before.

Alaeic roared with laughter catching sight of Daven’s victorious grin. “You never get tired of that, do you?”

Daven continued watching, “I have yet to see someone make an omelet without breaking the eggs first.”

Alaeic shook his head while bringing his gaze back to the recruits and Genna, “There may come a day where the world tires of omelets.”

“But that day is not today.” It was always impressive how Genna managed to harden the recruits.

Reaching the starting line Genna was met with flabbergasted faces. She eyed them each in turn till she got to Clydas, “What was your wager again, Clydas?”

Ellec smirked while Clydas remained silent. “I’ll take his wager.”

Genna turned on him quickly, “And how do you plan to do that with no sword?”

Turning down the lines to the eighth target, his blade glistened in the light, still sitting in the wood.

“Retrieve your sword, Ellec.” Genna turned to the others while Ellec reluctantly began his walk. “So, who wants to give it a try?”

Ovaria stepped up first, bringing herself to the line Genna drew in the dirt. Spinning the hilts of each short sword in her hands, she readied herself with the blades in an upright position.

Genna watched intently, “When you are ready.”

Eyes locked; Ovaria ran full sprint as she made her path down to the first target. With little effort she left the first target with two more gashes than it had before.

Strafing towards the second target on the right, she struck with parallel momentum. “She moves quicker this time.” Alaeic watched with Daven as Ovaria weaved her path through each target.

The third target took the fatal blow from her sword, then the fourth, each attack keeping the pace of the first. “She is sweating profusely.” Daven noted as she moved from the fifth to the sixth target.

“That may be, but she’s still moving with haste. She’s found her sruth.” Ovaria’s momentum was on the cusp of wavering as she moved past the seventh target and on to the eighth and final target. Her chest heaving from quickened breaths she made it half way to the last target before hurling her left-handed sword at the target with movement of the throw of an axe. Daven nodded to himself, she follows through.

The sword caught the target on an awkward angle and vibrated fervently before falling to the ground, but she kept the pursuit. With full swing she lashed at the eighth target with her other sword in blossoming form before falling to her knees and sliding in the dirt as her head tilted up to the sky searching for air. Well done.

Allia and the two other recruits shouted cheers from the starting line, while Ovaria took her time to recoup. Genna gazed up at Daven and Alaeic with a grin of satisfaction. We may pull this off just yet.

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Alaeic and Daven made their way down from the ridge overlooking the recruits. “Ovaria may outpace Ellec at this rate.”

Daven shifted the gauntlet on his hand, opening and closing his fist underneath the rustic metal. They still have many cycles before they will wear metal as a farmer wears a loose shirt in midsummer. “We will only be as strong as our weakest link. There is no room for any of them to fall behind.”

Alaeic nodded, “Give them time, they each have a long way to go. Fortunately, it does not seem our timetable has demand of them just yet.”

“If only we had time to give. The timetable changes by the day. Have we any news today from our informers?”

Alaeic, “Jaren went to check up on that earlier this morning actually….” Pausing near the bottom of the ridge, “Speaking of which.”

Jaren walked up the ridge intercepting Daven and Alaeic’s descent. Fully armored, as the rest of the Legions were accustomed to being ready at a moment’s notice. The staff-lengthed mace clasped across his back in the same manner one would strap a greatsword.

Head to boot in darkened steels, the only bit of skin exposed was the tiny bit of face that managed to break free from his beard and long carob hair. With a quick nod to Alaeic, Jaren greeted Daven.

“Do you have word on our tracker?”

At the base of the ridge the three stood beneath the only tree in the near area. The large overhanging branches enough to shield them from the light drizzle of rain that had started.

Jaren sidestepped the direct question, “Tracking the tracker, is easier said than done. Arbhants have a way of evasion about them when they do not wish to be found.” Casually adding in, “But we have sent scouts keeping an eye out every city north and south of the Tethys Sea.”

“And when they inevitably avoid the cities?”

Alaeic answered before Jaren could, “We already have the scouts communicating with informers in the rural outskirts. Wherever she turns up, we will know of it.”

With a quick nod of approval, Daven continued back to the camp with Alaeic and Jaren in tow. “Good. Let us make the evening’s preparations then.”

~~~

Clydas had finally made his complete run through the course, striking the eighth target with gusto, despite his sweat-soaked face. The rain had stayed light, enough to dull the day’s light, but not enough to outpace the sweat Genna had forced upon them all.

“Finished at last!” Allia shouted at Clydas from the dirt she lay back down on, propped up by her elbows. Genna had made sure no one was done with their training until all four recruits made a successful run with their sruth.

If Clydas heard, he made no acknowledgement. He made his way back to the starting line exhausted, and breathing heavily.

Ellec kept his gaze on Clydas’ path while they all waited for his return. Speaking louder than he had to, “Careful Allia, Preceptor Genna may send you two back out for another run.” With a smirk, “Especially for not keeping up with myself and your sister.”

Allia’s head snapped towards Ellec, eyes bulging. “Even without that greatsword of yours I’ll outpace you. Your sruth is weak Ellec!”

Ovaria chuckled to herself from the corner of Ellec’s eye, but before he could retort Preceptor Genna cut in, “As much as I would enjoy sending you all back out again, we’ve done enough for today.” Clydas had joined the rest of them now, his breath a bit steadier now.

Preceptor Genna turned to them each, one by one. “You each have made excellent progression, but have a loose grasp of your sruth at best. Make no mistake when the time comes, you will be expected to hold the line and keep up with the rest of your brethren.”

As the four grew silent and focused, Preceptor Genna sighed. “But that being said, Ovaria made the quickest run today.”

Ovaria grinned with a futile attempt to hide her pride, Allia pointed immediately at Ellec, “Ha!”

Ellec brought his attention back to the Preceptor, “Who would you say, had the closest second then?”

She rolled her eyes at him and nodded towards the campsite. “As far as I’m concerned you all could learn from Ovaria’s performance today. Now go, dinner will be ready within the hour.” We won’t be hearing the end of this all night.

A fog had grown and the late day grew hazy under the light rain, but the growing flames from the firepit shone in spite of it all. Not far from the campsite, the lake itself had become a place of relaxation after the day’s extensive training. The four had begun the walk towards The Seine, where they would wait for the night’s meal to be prepped.

“Ellec help me unbind the targets.” Ellec turned back to see the Preceptor crouched over the base of the first target.

Once Ellec turned from the group to make his way back to the Preceptor, Clydas looked back over his shoulder curiously, but Preceptor Genna’s glance had him moving forward again in an instant.

When he approached, she stood, lifting the slain target with both hands out from the dirt below. She turned to face him, tossing it aside, at full height, she nears my own.

Her hair was neatly tied back behind her head and fell straight just beyond her back. At a quick glance the Preceptor’s skin would appear soft to the touch, but further observation would detail the hard jawline that gave her the stern look she often gave. Dark brown eyes to match the hair, it becomes equally intimidating as it is striking.

She bore fitted pauldrons that hugged her well-toned figure, which mimicked the theme of the rest of her armor pieces. Though not as much steel as Ellec and some of the others bore, her strength was not to be trifled with.

“You did well today, Ellec.”

Respectfully, “Thank you, Preceptor.”

Genna went silent for a moment, her eyes seemingly searching for something, “You should know he would be proud of you.”

Ellec nodded silently in reply.

The Preceptor stared past Ellec, at the greatsword on his back. “Gavin was one of the strongest of us. He scarcely needed a physical weapon, his bind with eneryia was near Daven’s.”

She picked up the target by the straps, and made for the next one. “He sees that in you, Ellec. Remember that.”

Ellec took an unhurried pace despite the lightness in his step as he made for The Seine. Opening and closing the gauntlet over his hand, still surreal how light it all can move. Each accent was tipped in gold under the base of the slate steel beneath.

The night the armor was given to him – is in the past now. When a Deathwalker breathes the flames anew, life starts again. A fresh start. With a deep breath Ellec approached the others, already laid out on the boulders overlooking the lake.

The sanded shoreline of The Seine had rounded boulders all about the edges. Large enough to lay one or two bodies upon, while still somewhat easily climbable. The span of the lake was massive in itself, but one could still make out the tree line of the Bloodwood on the other side.

Taking the steel gauntlets off each hand, he carefully lay them upon one of the smaller rocks, and strategically made his ascent of the nearest boulder. Ensuring not to scrape the steel on rock. In spite of the light rain, the coolness was a welcome alternative to the perspiration from the sruth training.

Allia and Ovaria were stretched out on their own boulder staring out over the lake talking quietly between themselves. To his other side Clydas lay on his side on his own boulder, and when Ellec sat down he leaned in closer to Ellec. “What did she want?”

Clydas wore a deep crimson cape that hung from the front of his loose fit steel pauldrons, and fell behind him in layers. The outermost offered a cowl, for weather much worse than this. Though Clydas held the same height as Ellec, he was slightly less built.

Hair in dreads fell to his shoulders, enough to be held back with a headband. Dark skin, only slightly lighter than the leathers he bore, and pale leaf-green eyes, which were quite distinct. He only held one more cycle in age than Ellec, but his voice made him seem younger.

Ellec whispered back, “The Preceptor did not wish for Allia and Ovaria to get envious, so she praised me in private.”

Clydas snorted, and both turned to the stare of Allia and Ovaria. Who had evidently stopped talking amongst themselves. “What was that Ellec?”

Ellec turned to face the two sisters. Ovaria was the slightly taller of the two, perhaps even slightly slimmer, though both were quite toned. She bore next to no steel accents, wrapping herself mostly in thickened leathers, exposing more skin than steel. Crossed and strapped at her back were two hilts from where she drew her blades.

Her umber hair was not quite as straight as Preceptor Genna’s, but she fashioned it similarly. Tied back, and tightly braided, it fell just past her shoulders. She rivals that stern glance as well.

Allia’s face was more welcoming to say the least. Her face was in fact the only skin exposed. Wrapped boot to neck in leathers and light steel clasps and accents, she even had a thick dust mask she often would wear over the lower half of her face.

She had it off tonight, bringing out the features in her face. From the rich hazel in her eyes, to the thick braids of carob in her hair. “I was just telling Clydas how the Preceptor was marveling at our progression with sruth training. I think she wishes you and your sister to bear more steel to even out the matches.”

Ellec’s glance found itself somewhere around Allia’s waistline, while working his way back upward he was met with an icy glare from Ovaria.

“You looking to get hit as hard as you hit that Deathwalker, Ellec?”

Allia rolled her eyes while Clydas and Ellec laughed. Ellec smirked as he brought his attention to Ovaria, “Careful Ovaria, I may come to enjoy that.”

Allia changed the subject, “The question is will you be able to easily do the same with the rebel faction?” She smirked, “You know, when they can actually fight back?”

Clydas interjected, “The Autech faction, you mean?”

Ellec grinded his thumb against his fist, “They will fall one by one.” Nodding to Ovaria, “I only hope you’ll be able to keep up.”

Ovaria stood up from the boulder she lay upon, an orange glow faintly illuminating her. Looking over to the campsite, a good-sized blaze had risen from the pit dug out for the nightly meal. Breaking through the fog, it was easy to see the tables set up circling the pit, and many of the Legions had begun taking their places around the fire.

Hopping down from the boulder, Ovaria called over her shoulder, “I’ll be sure to leave you any scraps that fail to pique my interest once I’m done with them.” Allia laughed and hopped down after her.

Clydas shook his head smiling, patted Ellec on the shoulder, and climbed down himself.

Ellec stared out at the horizon, now growing in moonlight by the minute. I will kill him, mark my words, I will kill him.

Clydas called out from below, “You coming? I’m not entirely sure if Ovaria was referring to the Autechs or our share of dinner if we prolong too long behind them.”

Ellec climbed down, grabbed his gauntlets, and made for the camp alongside Clydas. “Good, we can move quicker in sruth with lighter stomachs.

Clydas chortled, “Speak for yourself. My priority will be this meal over tomorrow’s training.”

For the first time there was an absence of redwoods overseeing the Legion camp. Save for a few smaller breeds of tree, the campsite had little coverage in comparison to the dense Bloodwood that had surrounded camp many nights prior.

The night had grown cool, the fog dissipated, and the rain halted. Making for a clear night’s sky under the illumination of Matua and Dannia. Between the two sister moons and the massive flame that burned at the center of the camp, the field around them was well lit.

It did not take long for Ellec and Clydas to spot the Moxe sisters, always one table away from the Guild Master’s table, where Guild Master Daven sat with his Preceptors.

Making their way to the recruit’s table set up for them, Ellec eyed four plates instead of two, beside Ovaria and Allia each. Clydas caught it too, “They have actually managed it.”

Ovaria nodded to Allia as the other two recruits approached the table and took their seats. Ovaria teased, “I see you are coming to dinner after all.” She slid the plate next to her over to Clydas.

Allia slid her extra plate over to Ellec, “Shame, I was feeling extra hungry tonight too.”

Clydas sat flabbergasted, “For roasted rutabaga?”

Allia raised her eyebrows, “For the meat, Clydas, the meat!”

Ellec’s straight face broke from the comment, “There is nothing Andescion is proud of more, than its blessed rutabaga.”

As the recruits fell into conversation and their meals, from the corner of his eye Ellec caught sight of the Guild Master’s table. At the head sat Guild Master Daven himself, flanked by Preceptors Alaeic, Genna, and Jaren.

Between all their plates Preceptor Jaren was pointing on a map laid out between the other three.

Opposite him sat Preceptor Alaeic, the Guild Master’s right hand. Underneath his steel armor he bore the crimson cloth of the legions.

The Guild Master himself sat fully armored save for his helm. Plate layered over plate, like the scales of the wyvern, in a burnt charcoal hue.

The table itself held room for more, at the very least one more should be sitting there. When the Autechs are dealt with one more shall sit there once more.