Before Dawn Of The Eighteenth Brightening Of Aperitus
Spring, Era XIII Post Fractum
Atheon yawned deeply and rolled over in his bed. This was the seventh or eighth time Atheon had woken up this night, so eager was he not to be late for his first Rhingorda training session. All the previous times he had woken and had been greeted with a pitch blackness outside the window. Each time he'd dropped his head back into the pillow and struggled to get to sleep again. This time however he could see a line of haze highlighting the highest towers of the city and he knew it was nearing dawn. He sat up and swung his legs out of bed, yawning again. Whilst he hadn't had a lot of sleep he knew he'd be okay for the training session, his adrenaline would keep him going. He raised his arms above his head and stretched for a long time, listening to the different clicks and sounds that came from his rested body.
Whilst the journey down to Diana had not been exactly soft and easy going, Atheon knew it had been a while since he had truly tested his body and was a bit wary of the training today. He'd spoke to a couple of people about Rhingorda and found that it was basically the art of punching; a form of Zinn'Ka. He'd heard stories of large underground fighting league where men would die on a weekly basis from injuries sustained from this style of combat. He knew it was going to be hard on his body and from what he'd made of Jackson from their first meeting, he was going to be even harder.
Still, Atheon wasn't a weak man. He was tall with broad shoulders and built well from years of manual labor. He stood, stretching his legs while bracing his hands on the small roof of the room he was occupying. The small room he'd managed to find was quite expensive and he was eager to move out as soon as possible, but he was having trouble finding a job. His supply of crowns, hidden in his pillow was not running low just yet, although today's venture would give it a serious dent. Atheon reached down and pulled on his trousers, buckling his belt at the waist. He tucked the excess leather around the belt itself. He reached down again and picked up a crumbled linen shirt from the floor and pulled it over his head. He put on the rest of his clothes quickly and headed for the exit. He had his hand on the door knob when he remembered the fee. He rushed back to the bed and pulled out a package he'd counted out last night during one of the times he'd woken up. It contained a hundred coins, a bargain if Atheon learnt how to fight like what he'd seen in the tavern!
He strode out of his room and into the street. In a few hours it would be a crisp spring morning with the sun shining down and the wind bringing a fresh smell to your nostrils. However at the moment it was a dark, cold time. There was no wind to speak of and a dank smell hung in the air. As Atheon strode through the roads he gathered his blonde hair up in a hand and expertly tied a piece of leather string around it, pulling it tight across his scalp. He walked fast wanting to be early. As he walked he brought his hands up and swung some phantom punches, imagining how fantastic he was going to be. The passersby looked at him a bit warily. Atheon just smiled. He was in a very good mood and didn't mind one bit what randoms on the street thought of him. As he neared the Golden Plaza, he became a little apprehensive. He wanted to make a good impression and not seem like a young 'country bumkin' as he knew he appeared from the outside. He might be a wide eyed kid in a big city, but he was intelligent and committed to this training. He wanted Jackson to see this.
As he rounded the corner and the Golden Plaza came into view Atheon was dismayed to see the Jackson was already there, sitting on the fountain eating an apple. Atheon had hoped to get there first and impress his new teacher. He walked briskly up to Jackson and half bowed awkwardly, not really knowing how to behave. Jackson didn't move and carried on eating his apple. After a minute or two; just as Atheon was starting to wonder what was going on, Jackson gestured to him.
“You got ma money lad?” he asked, eying the package Atheon held.
“Yea I got it.” replied Atheon, holding up the bag, frowning a little.
“Well pass us it here then!” Jackson must of seen the moment of hesitation of Atheon's face because he let out a bark of laughter and hopped down from the fountain. “I ain't gonna rob ya boy. I thought abou' it, I must say. I couldn't do it. I don't rob kids.”
“I'm not a kid.” Atheon said determinedly as he gave the bag containing one hundred crowns to Jackson. Jackson felt the weight of it and seemed satisfied.
“We'll see lad, we'll see.” he said. Jackson took a deep breath and sat back down onto the fountain. He looked exactly as Atheon had seen him two brightenings ago: a tall, powerful middle aged man who looked like he'd gone through the ringer more times than he could remember. “Here, have this,” he said and threw a bright red apple at Atheon. Atheon caught it – just – (his hands had been in his pockets protecting them from the cold) and took a large bite.
“So you wanna learn Rhingorda eh?” Jackson said, leaning forward on one knee, staring into Atheon's eyes. Atheon matched the gaze as well as he could. “Well, it ain't easy and that's an understatement. Rhingorda is about throwin' punches. Some fellas kick a bit too, I wouldn't know much about tha' I concentrate on my punches. You gotta have speed, balance and power. By the looks of ya, you're like me: more power than speed. But speed can be taught, I'm livin' testament to that. Lemme tell you when I started out I was slow as a damned rock. But now...” Jackson's hands blurred in front of Atheon. “...I'm as fast as I need be.” Jackson polished off his apple and threw it in the fountain.
“Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself. The biggest part of Rhingorda is endurance. Your body gotta be conditioned to a) take the poundin' you're gonna get and b) give out a pounding to some fool who's cross you, you understand?'
'Yea yea, I understand Sir... Master...” Atheon said, biting down hard on his apple. He was feeling exhilarated already.
“I'm not your damned master. Call me Jay.”
“Okay... Jay”
“Right, where was I? Oh yea conditioning. We gotta condition your body kid. Take off your shirt”
“What?” A look of surprise crossed Atheon's face.
“Take off your damned shirt boy” Jackson said, his brow creasing into a frown. Atheon quickly removed his shirt. He felt the cold biting into him immediately. Jackson hummed to himself as he saw Atheon's toned upper body. He prodded him hard and Atheon stumbled back a few steps. “Looking good there kid. You worked labor for a while yea?.... Woah!” Jackson had walked round the back of Atheon and discovered the maze of scars on his back. They had been whipped into him during his younger years. “Tha's some heavy scarring. Even I ain't got owt that bad mate. Your Da go a bit crazy?”
Atheon shrugged. The scars didn't really bother him and he certainly didn't hold anything against his father for them. They were just a part of his body, like anything else.
“Well right... yea...” said Jackson, a little distracted by the scars. “Okay, well anyone can be built, but its that conditioning I was talking about. That's the key. At this level anyway.” Jackson paused for a moment. “Run around the city.”
Atheon's eyes widened. “The city?”
“That's what I said kiddo. All four corners. And to make it interesting, I'm putting a time limit on you. But I ain't gonna tell you what it is. If you ain't back in time I'll gone and so will your money understand?”
“Wait a min-”
“Okay, starting now.” Jackson looked at Atheon, looking genuinely surprised. “I'd get running if I were you lad.” Atheon swore under his breath and started running towards the city gates. “The whole city mind! All four corners! I'll be watching” shouted Jackson from behind him. Jackson grinned at the disappearing figure of Atheon and fished out another apple from his pocket.
What followed was the most agonizing candlemark of Atheon's life so far. Atheon pushed himself to the absolute limit. He went through numerous moods during his run round the city. At first it was outright panic. Not knowing the time limit was a brilliant but terrible move by Jackson. Atheon was near sprinting to his first destination. The second feeling was somewhere between 'at ease' and 'uneasy'. He slowed to a steady jog and felt he was making good progress, although still not knowing the time limit he forced himself a little faster. Next came pain. Intense pain and groaning and general moaning from his body which had done nothing like this for months. At first just his legs hurt, but steadily the pain spread throughout his body until every muscle was on fire. His pace slowed considerably during this phase.
The numbness came next or maybe it was just getting used to the pain. He knew this feeling well. He remembered when he had just started learning his trade of woodworking. His arms had burnt like fire as he planed the wood down but slowly the pain had melted away and he found he could plane away for a long time. Atheon then started to panic again. He tried to reason with himself, saying that the time limit couldn't possibly be this short and he was just being stupid. Even so, he pushed himself even harder. He could feel that the muscles in his legs were starting to give away. At one point he collapsed, sprawling in the mud, his torso covered in it. For a couple of seconds he feared that he could not force his legs to get up again. Suddenly they sprung into life and lifted him from the ground. He had nearly finished now and dripping with mud he ran into the Golden Plaza. At first the happiness that it was all over filled him and he didn't think to look for Jackson. Then the elation passed Atheon found that he was standing alone in the Plaza. With Jackson nowhere to be seen...
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