One for all, all for one! [self mod]

[Amelia Lynsdaughter]

Professional El Viatre level up

Late Immanis, 14 PF

It was a cool morning of Spring when Amelia decided to visit her fencing teacher, Ricardo Flaminio Borges of Daltina, also known (to her) as the Orange Swordsman due to his flamboyant choice of clothing. He had told her to practice, consolidate her skillset, and then come back to her once she felt she was ready to study some more. She had done exactly that, and she believed in all honesty that she had reached a plateau that only expert help could help her overcome. Her duel with Guillaume had highlighted her weaknesses, and now the Adjurator wished to fix them. Had the fight been one to the death and against a more skilled practicioner, she might not be alive to tell the tale.

This was not to say that she had not enjoyed the fight, though. On the contrary, to someone as restrained as Amelia, always pushing back her feelings to maintain a perfect façade, such moments of release had become very dear indeed. The flash of the blade now intrigued the Adjurator in spite of her traumatic past involving those cutting implements. It certainly helped that her chosen style had little in common with the brutish decapitations and wild swings of traditional swordplay. Instead, she had found her natural outlet in a school of grace and finesse: El Viatre. Now she carried a weapon almost every time she went out - her smallsword, concealed inside a fancy white umbrella.

She had it on her even now, and Nexus being a rainy city certainly helped to make it blend with the environment. It had been Ricardo's suggestion to get herself a hidden blade, though her mentor was particularly interested in the wit that an unexpected item would display when unsheathed. Amelia wanted to show him her sword, and then wanted some more lessons from him. It was a simple plan - she felt she had become capable, now she wished to become dangerous. Feeling self-sufficient and able to look after herself was simply too good and comforting to pass up.

Needless to say, great was her surprise when she stepped into the garden of his house in Fang Horn Drop - the gate was always open - and saw the sign. She hadn't suspected a thing until that moment, the weeds were easy to explain (Ricardo had never taken care of the garden to begin with). But the sign? 'Aedile's Office of Nexus Prime: Property for Sale.' The blood froze in Amelia's veins when she read those few words, and she stood motionless in front of the sign for a couple of minutes, failing to understand. Ricardo had sold the house? Why? What of his dreams to open a fencing school in Nexus?

The girl turned on her heels and investigated into the matter. She inquired with the neighbors, bowing and apologizing profusely for bothering them, and learned that they had seen Ricardo around until a cycle or so before. Then - and Amelia gave them a look of barely refrained horror at the news - he had sold the house and had taken to begging on the streets, apparently unable to make a living in any other way. They were kind enough to tell her the corners where he was most likely to be found, and the Adjurator headed there immediately, with an annoyed haste to her step.

And there, exactly near the alley where the neighbors had pointed her to, she found him. Sitting against the wall of an abandoned house, with a metal bowl for the alms set before him. He had not shaven in a while, and he had dismissed his flamboyant clothing for more fitting rags, though those were still orange. Amelia walked up to him and stood rather indignant over his crouching form, hand on her hip. There was a clearly disappointed light about her crystalline eyes as she spoke to him. "It's not going to work, you've changed your clothes but you still have the proud eyes of a stuck-up Daltinan," she said, noticing that the bowl only contained a few silvers, "those like you and I are bad at asking, and even worse at begging. Now you tell me how many chapters I've missed out on... Maestro."

[Amelia Lynsdaughter]

The man's head rose slowly and he spoke in his usual deep baritone, certainly not something you would expect of a beggar. "You've gotten more feisty," he stated, "is that an effect of my lessons?" Amelia looked at him, less than pleased with his answering a question with another question. "I am not feisty," she declared matter-of-factly, "but I reserve the right to feel annoyed at seeing my teacher begging on the public street."

"Why so? It's not like you are begging, my dear," Ricardo quipped back, "but we can remedy that! There's always a lot of room here if you wish to start. This corner used to be occupied by a few Paxians, or so I'm told. But they have since left to return to Paxia and help rebuild the city. I'd surely make a lot more money if you started to, I don't know, dance or something, sangre de Carmelya." His quick tongue had not abandoned him even underneath the rags of a homeless. "That's beside the point," Amelia replied coolly, "you are avoiding my question, Maestro. And this is so unlike you that I'm not moving from here until you tell me what happened. The truth, all of it."

The swordsman turned beggar looked at Amelia as though she were a madwoman. "It's a pretty simple story. I ran out of money, you know, the shiny little discs. They are about this big, and have a person's profile on one side and a few words..." "I know what Crowns look like," the girl sighed, Carmelyn winter in her voice betraying some Arakmatan heat underneath. "Good for you. I think I'm starting to forget, though. Haven't seen many in a while. It's my fault, though, I lived far beyond my means. I had no income whatsoever and spent more than I could afford."

"That's practically my biography," Amelia retorted, "but I'm still not going to beg, no matter what. There had to be a proper job you could have taken in this city." "Oh, no no no. I am Ricardo Flaminio Borges, I just cannot be an apprentice to some craftsman, or even worse, a Constable. At least being a beggar is quite romantic if you look at it from the right angle." There was silence, and it was Amelia's turn to look at him as though he'd just stepped out of an asylum. "Romantic." The man nodded. "Very."

The witch sighed again, and tried to bring the conversation back on track. "Good, let's suppose for a moment that you had no choice but to start begging. Now that you've learnt your lesson and aren't going to waste your money again, you can get back to, I don't know, teaching El Viatre. I know I need some more lessons -- you haven't sold your sword, have you?" Her eyes were almost pleading him to say no. And he sighed. "Well... I pawned it, truth be told." "Oh, gods..." Amelia's voice was noticeably softer, even sympathetic now. "Was it this bad?" She knew that for him to have given away his sword, it must have been absolutely necessary.

"Worse than that," the man said, a sudden seriousness to his voice. "I am very sorry that I can't further your education, Amelia. I really am. I wish for nothing more than that... but I can't. I thought I could... that everything would be fixed by just moving to Nexus. I was wrong. Please forgive me."

[Amelia Lynsdaughter]

It took the girl a few seconds to fully understand the implications of what her teacher had said. "So..." she said slowly and quietly, a tiny concentration frown on her brows, "this isn't about money. There is something else..." Something else he was not telling her, and seemingly something he was not willing to tell her, either. Finally, her polite self took over and she realized she must have sounded pushy. "I am sorry, Maestro Ricardo, I do not know what I was thinking." This was obviously personal and she had no right to intrude in his private life. She hadn't been logical enough to figure things out on her own, and as usual someone had had to do the explaining for her.

"Don't worry," he rested his back against the wall, stretching a little, and grinning at the blushing girl. "It's nice to hear that someone cares, but look at me... I don't need anything anymore. Only here can a man find true happiness, sleeping under a blanket of stars." Amelia gave him a saddened look but played along despite the blatant lie. "Well then..." she said softly, "I should go."

The half-elf turned around, ready to leave... and bumped into someone.

"My apologies," she said quickly, her brightening going from bad to worse as she stepped back to face the man she had collided with. Said man was, however, totally uninterested in her. He had come for Ricardo, and Amelia's apology died on her lips, her attention taken by his appearance. He was a tall Medonian human, dressed in the flamboyant garb she had come to expect of her teacher. The stranger's clothes were a brilliant green, with perfectly polished boots and dark breeches. A rapier with an elaborate basket hilt, shiny from obsessive care, hung by his side.

"At long last we have found you, Borges," the man stated, his voice monotone and on the rough side. Unlike Ricardo, he did not sport a moustache, but rather what would be called a petit goatee around his chin, a very dark shade of brown, almost black. The man's small eyes were brown, as well, proud and spirited. "Did you change your mind? Or did you get tired of hiding?" The orange beggar turned a lazy head to the intruder. "Can't you see I'm working?" he said, but quickly added, "Amelia, this place isn't for you anymore. You should be on your way."

But the girl did not move. Not an inch. "I wasn't expecting to see you'd fallen so low. Maestro Vidorico spoke very highly of you. Well, it does not really matter. The Maestro has come personally to this rathole called Nexus Prime just to see you - and remind you of your obligations." A flash crossed Ricardo's eyes at the mention of Vidorico, but he quickly tamed the feeling. "The old me is dead - I've found my true calling. If Vidorico wants to see me that badly, tell him to bring some spare change for me."

"You are pathetic, Borges," the stranger practically spat, "you're willing to taint your honor and reputation only because you think the Maestro would lose his interest in you that way. It's a useless attempt. A promise is a breath of air with your blood in it - the Maestro will either welcome you back as a friend, or kill you and then mourn you for a cycle." "I'd rather be remembered as an oath-breaker and a coward than a scoundrel of his word. You can tell Vidorico that - if I know him, he's probably brought his whole clique along. Money grows on trees for that man. Who would you be, by the way?"

The stranger was caught off-guard and appeared less than pleased to be implicitly accused of bad manners. "My name is Abelard de la Fontaine, and I have orders to escort you to the Maestro's room." Ricardo sighed and gave his answer. "No." The mysterious swordsman rested his hand on the hilt of his rapier. "He said 'no', what part of it did you not understand?" The latest line was Amelia's, so far plainly ignored by the two men.

[Amelia Lynsdaughter]

The girl obviously had no idea what she was getting herself into, and the same feeling transpired on Ricardo's face as Abelard turned his head slowly, as if not believing his ears. Had the little girl really spoken to him - against him? "Who's this doll, Borges? She looks a bit young for you." Amelia's eyes narrowed a little, as they always did, subconsciously, when someone talked about her in ways that were less than appropriate. The orange one saw fit to remedy the misunderstanding. "She's my student, Amelia. And she is perfectly correct, incidentally - I was under the impression that 'no' could not easily be mistaken for any other word in my vocabulary. Then again, many things separate the two of us, not least of which several layers of your cerumen."

Abelard flushed red at the insult, but barely kept his temper in check. "Well then, you leave me no choice. Maestro Vidorico ordered me to relay his challenge to a duel if you refused to follow. A duel to the death between men of honor. His exact words were, 'if he denies me the pleasure of a friendly reunion, let him give me that of a deadly one; I demand satisfaction for his insolence.' Three brightenings from now, at dawn, outside the walls of Nexus Prime, in the direction of the town called Mileswick."

"What if I refuse?" Ricardo asked, simply. "You know how Maestro Vidorico operates. He will most likely start killing random people in the countryside until you show up." So much for the man of honor, Amelia thought. "Oh, I almost forgot. I demand satisfaction, as well. I consider you responsible for your student's lack of manners. In the unlikely event of your surviving the duel with the Maestro, you will have to face me."

At this point Amelia jumped into the conversation. This Abelard was totally ignoring her as a person, not even considering that she may have a will of her own and that Ricardo had nothing to do with her choice to defend him. "I am more than capable of giving you the satisfaction you seek, Monsieur de la Fontaine," she exclaimed, cursing the awkward formula of 'demanding satisfaction' that had so many dirty readings it wasn't even funny, and embarrassed her every single time. "If you want to challenge anyone, it would have to be me, and your lack of consideration is insulting me in turn," she retorted in a polite, detached tone.

Ricardo opened his mouth to speak, but Abelard grinned. "Very well, I won't be the one to stop you. Just don't assume that I will go easy on you only because you are a girl. We - all of us, including your dear teacher here - we all have killed younger people than you. When we demand satisfaction, it is the kind of satisfaction that only Jalat can give." A cold shiver ran down Amelia's spine. This was not a street thug or a pampered noble - this was a real swordsman.

"I see," the girl said, trying to mask her fear, "that will not be a problem. Do not hold anything back. I will be there, for this is the oath of my people." Feth, one more oath. Ironically enough, she'd only started making them since she had been branded and exiled from her people. The blue eyes of the Adjurator burned with the fire of determination that only someone who thought of themselves as long since dead could harbor. Amelia had nothing to lose in this world. She had no house, no love, only chains and duty. While a terrifying burden, it also allowed her to live life in a way that the average man could not. And by the goddess of the hearth, she would help her teacher any way she could.

[Amelia Lynsdaughter]

Abelard seemed less than impressed with what he perceived as the girl's bravado, and merely smirked. "That will be satisfactory. Maestro Vidorico will not object to your coming along if it is because of a matter of honor. Very well, I suggest that you both use these three brightenings to settle your unfinished business. I would hate to leave loose ends if I were you." And with that, the swordsman in green bowed with a flourish and quickly left the two to their own devices.

Amelia and her teacher looked at each other in the eyes for a few seconds, but he spoke first. "Stupid." He sighed and leaned against the wall once more. "Do you really want to get yourself killed so badly? You aren't like me, these things aren't supposed to be as important to you. Only those who live for honor should die for honor." The half-elf knew that, and understood his point of view, though she did not agree with it. "You don't know me, Maestro Ricardo," she replied, "throughout my life people have taken advantage of my weakness. I can take a lot of punishment, I think... I have done so in the past. But there is a limit to how much a person can take, and mine has been exceeded. From now on I am going to show the world that they cannot... do as they please with me."

"So... that's it. It's yourself you really challenged to a duel. Is it worth dying for, though? That man, I didn't know. But if Vidorico let him into the Coterie, it means he's good." His face darkened at the mention of Vidorico, and Amelia picked up on that. "Is it certain that I should die? Do I really stand no chance against that man?" "With what I've taught you? No. You don't stand a chance. Make no mistake, Amelia, I taught you well and you were a competent student... it's just that you have absorbed the technique but not all of the spirit. You can face the average threat - but not a professional master-at-arms. That man knows it and will show no mercy on you. You are in a sea of trouble, girl."

In truth, Amelia knew it all too well, but did not really want to admit to it. "If I'm not good enough," she suggested, "then teach me more. We have three brightenings before the duel. I'll ask my employer to keep my duties light so I can devote most of my time to it. You can teach me how to swim in this sea of trouble. I can't go back, at any rate. You've heard what they're going to do if you don't show up. They might do the same if I don't." Ricardo hesitated, but the witch pressed on. "You have sold your sword, so you don't even have a weapon. I'll help you buy your sword back from the pawn shop. What do you think, Maestro?" She gave him a winning smile that admitted no answer other than a yes. "Yes," the beggar sighed.

"Excellent," Amelia said, trying to fake a more cheerful smile. Actually, she was starting to feel scared by all these tales of Vidorico and his men. So much so that she hadn't even found the courage to ask him what they wanted and why their leader had challenged him to a duel. "We can start right away. Please stand and lead the way, good sir." Slowly, ever so slowly, the man rose to his feet. "You are quite something, you know," he said, "you are scared as Aeternia and I can feel it, but you aren't going to run."

She was silent for a moment, but did not seem embarrassed to walk beside a beggar in rags. "It's that... I have worse things ahead of me. Worse things than this." She cast a sideways glance at the Maestro, her eyes betraying just how vulnerable she was, and yet how hard she was trying to be strong. "And if I can't survive this, there's no point in trying those other things. My life is a mess, Maestro Ricardo." "Just Ricardo will do, from now on. We are teacher and pupil no longer - we are comrades." Amelia smiled wistfully at the thought, her blue gaze lost somewhere in the streets. Comrades. It was almost amusing.

[Amelia Lynsdaughter]

They visited the pawnbroker next, to get back Ricardo's items. His weapons, clothes and El Viatre light armor. Thankfully it turned out that the man did have some money hidden as a roll of banknotes in his right boot, though Amelia had to contribute out of her own pocket. She did so without a second thought, watching as the clerk amassed the objects on top of the counter, one by one. His orange attire, then his smallsword. She had not gotten a real chance to examine the weapon before, since they had only used training weapons during her tutelage. The sword, while not a masterpiece, was of obvious sentimental value to Ricardo. There was a coat of arms on the hilt in the form of a small shield.

Amelia's eyes went wide at the sight of it. The shield depicted a small black raven on a golden - almost orange - background. "What's the meaning of this?" she asked, perhaps more upset than she should have been. "Oh, this. Think nothing of it - I'm not noble by any stretch of the imagination. My great-grandfather, though, he was a Knight, and while the title can't pass down through the generations, he did have a coat of arms. I just thought I'd follow on the tradition. Gold means generosity - that's why I've chosen a color akin to gold for my clothes and plumage." He picked up his cavalier hat fondly, and adjusted the orange plume that adorned its top.

"What... what about the raven? What does it mean?" Amelia asked, and Ricardo noticed a sense of urgency in her words, though he could not understand why. He could not have known that the raven was Amelia's animal, as well. "Oh, the raven. In heraldry, it represents someone who received little or nothing from life but became the architect of their own fortunes through willpower, perseverance and strength of character." Amelia's eyes shone a little at the explanation, and she smiled. "I see... thank you. I didn't know about that."

In the end, they collected weapons, clothes and light armour. Their next stop was at the Lingerer's, where Amelia rented a room for Ricardo. Her expenses for the brightening added up to three hundred Crowns, but she did not mind. Finally, they went back to Ricardo's old house, knowing that no-one would purchase it for a while. They could still use the garden as their training field, and Ricardo, now well-shaven and clad in his usual orange garb, wanted to start their intensive program right away. Thankfully the girl, while wearing a skirt, did not feel limited in her movements by her clothing.

"Under normal circumstances, we would be using training weapons. Because we have so little time, however, and you need to get a feel for real combat, we are going to spar with real swords that inflict real wounds. This may be dangerous, but as you said yourself, if you can't survive this, there's no point in even trying the real thing." The girl nodded firmly. "I agree," she said, "en garde, Ricardo." She took on the Lado Favorecido stance in the middle of the garden, her body flowing into the correct position without even thinking about it. She was using her own smallsword, which she had fetched from her room at the manor.

The Daltinan smiled a little. The girl was obviously the kind of person who could only give her best in times of extreme crisis. He drew his weapon in turn, and let her attack him first, as a warm-up exercise. Amelia quickly closed in on him lunged forward with surprising precision - certainly better than he remembered. He parried it aside and went for a Riposte along Amelia's own blade, straight for the girl's chest. This could wound her seriously if she did not stop it, which she did, backstepping gracefully to make Ricardo's blade fall short of its target. Nice, he thought and grinned. The moment Amelia had stopped thinking of El Viatre as a refined way of defending herself if the need arose and instead started thinking of it as something that could save her life here and now, she had immediately improved.

[Amelia Lynsdaughter]

They continued sparring a while, blades crossing and quick, feathered footwork leading the two of them all over the garden in their dance. Ricardo did not unleash his full skill on Amelia and kept to the basics, increasing the pace and difficulty of the fight little by little as he incorporated faster lunges and trickier feints. Amelia, on the other hand, was quite clearly no longer afraid to hurt someone else, and she did not pull back her Estocadas. Her repertoire was still small, but to her credit, her fluidity and ability to use her techniques at the right moment pleased her instructor turned comrade. She was clearly growing out of the rank as Ruffian.

"Good. Now pick up your main gauche. I seem to recall it was your weak point back then, and I told you to focus on the right hand sword for the time being. Well, things are going to change now. You need to be able to use that dagger in combination with the sword. Your opponent will be using any advantage he can get, so it's vital that you do the same." The girl knew she was weaker with the dagger, but she had gotten past her loathing of the weapon she had killed the Chief with. If she had technically won the duel against Guillaume, she owed it to the dagger. She drew her main gauche and Ricardo did exactly the same.

This time, the man attacked first. Amelia parried Quarte out of the way, but Ricardo pivoted on one foot and came at her with a swing of his main gauche. The witch raised her own dagger, pivoting similarly, and intercepted his weapon, locking it with its long quillons. They broke off, retreating by a couple of steps. Then Ricardo took on a new stance, crouching with the left arm held crooked in front of him. "Main gauche forward," he explained, "remember it, especially if you find yourself fighting with a cloak. Then you'll be able to mask the location of your sword, which should leave your opponent guessing its location."

Amelia nodded and memorized the stance, though she did not copy it right away. Ricardo approached slowly, still in that crouched position. Then he suddenly exploded in a crouching lunge which the girl barely sidestepped. Had it been performed at full speed, she would have been skewered. "Passata sotto, you've seen it once, I believe? Careful with that kind of attacks, they are very treacherous both when performing them and when defending against them, just like the fleche." The man pirhouetted once and stood very close to Amelia.

"This is very close combat," he explained, "and your smallsword, while not as unwieldy as a rapier in these situations, is not the most suitable weapon here, especially if you are caught in some position other than the standard sideways one of the Lado Favorecido Forward. The main gauche is more useful here. It can be used for both attack and defense. Most main gauche weapons except the stiletto have a cutting edge in addition to a thrusting point, and you can take advantage of it to cut as well as stab." He demonstrated how to fight in very close quarters by holding his smallsword parallel to the body as a line of defense and then attacking Amelia with the main gauche from the side. The girl blocked the rather slow attack just in time.

"Close quarter combat is extremely tricky and very dangerous even for an experienced practicioner," Ricardo explained, "not to mention that there are people who specialize in it. If you feel your skills in the field are outmatched, you must disengage immediately and make some room between you and your opponent. It is much easier to parry from a distance, and if you seek close combat yourself, be ready to retreat as soon as you've lost the advantage of surprise, sangre d'Orod." The swordsman proved the point by quickly backstepping and rotating, so that the girl had to follow the rotation herself and would be unable to capitalize on his retreat.

[Amelia Lynsdaughter]

Amelia nodded, a few strands of chestnut hair dancing in the breeze as she signaled her understanding. She did not really think of herself as the close quarter type, though one did not always get to choose where to engage the enemy. Besides, her smallsword was less effective in enclosed spaces with little maneuvering room, and her dagger would have to compensate for that in actual combat. "It sounds very reasonable," she said. "Excellent. Today we will be reviewing technical points for the most part; tomorrow I will be introducing more of the 'flavor' of El Viatre, so to speak. And then, on the last brightening, we'll see if I can't get you some on the field experience. This is basically a few months' training schedule crammed into three brightenings. Do you feel you can handle it?"

The young woman looked at him curiously, lowered her sword, and started giggling softly of all things. "No," she said, "but a girl's got to do what she's got to do, so don't go easy on me." With that, she returned to a fighting stance, still smiling in her own strange way. "That's not going to happen, this much is for sure. You are doing beautifully, though. Who knows, by the time we are finished you may indeed stand that chance against the gentleman in green. For now, let's concentrate on the finer points of handling a blade. So far you've been lunging, parrying and reposting by copying familiar motions. You parry, then you riposte, and then you parry the counter-riposte. Basic things. I'd like you to look farther than the basic sequence. A fencing bout has what is called tempo, much like a piece of music. In fact, there are fewer differences between the two things than you may think."

"So... that would be the speed at which the duel runs?" Amelia asked, a tiny frown on her brows. "More or less. It means that your movements and those of your opponent follow a basic rhythm. You lunge, and he parries; those two actions are synchronized. Then he ripostes and you counter-parry; those, too, are simultaneous. It is like dancing, Amelia, except that the goal is to dance better than the other guy. For this reason, you must be able to follow the tempo of the duel, and when you are able to, command it. You already have the tools for doing that; but you need to be aware of it." He showed her exactly what he meant.

With a short lunge he forced her to parry sideways, seemingly opening himself for a riposte. Amelia did exactly that, but Ricardo parried a fancy Seconde and continued in his counterattack. The girl managed to tap his sword sideways again, and lunged a third time. Ricardo's parry touched her sword, but was noticeably slower than the first two. While this may have sounded like a bad thing for him, it was not. Amelia's rhythm was broken, and not only did she fail to lunge again, but he even managed to hit the forte of her blade hard enough to disarm her. The sword fell down.

"See what I mean? You're dead, by the way." He gave a small grin. "This is referred to as Broken Time. I changed my tempo, but you failed to adapt to it and continued with your own tempo, so you reacted with the wrong timing and lost the engagement. You need to develop your battle awareness and watch out for sudden changes in your opponent's speed. When you think it's safe, you should change yours every once in a while, as well." Amelia crouched and picked up her sword once more, mulling over the lesson she had just learned. "Of course, if I change my tempo at the wrong time, it could do more harm than good, right?" "Absolutely. That's why you need to become more battle-aware. You need to learn how to assess risks in a heartbeat and make life-or-death choices based on your previous knowledge, environment and situation. Theory is theory, but every duel is its own story. And the enemy needs only score once."

"I think I've got it," Amelia simply said, "you can try again." Ricardo nodded seriously and obliged, starting another bout. After a couple of lunges and parries exchanged left and right, the man feinted a lunge but instead hesitated, trying to get the girl to initiate a parry with the wrong timing. Amelia saw through the ruse, however, and slowed down in turn, letting the actual Estocada meet her blade at a later time. Then she herself changed her tempo, hastening the counter-riposte. Ricardo simply dodged the attack and retreated. "Good. With practice, this will become more and more natural to you, but it seems you got the gist of the theory at the very least."

[Amelia Lynsdaughter]

"Now, your defense looks reasonable to me, Amelia, but we need to work harder on your attacks," the Orange Swordsman said, "granted, the first and foremost objective of any battle is staying alive, and defense should be your main concern at all times, but if your attacks become dull and repetitives you are practically not fighting back. Right now you aren't straying from the basic Estocada, which will stop surprising the opponent after the second or third time. You need more variety, and attacks tailored to specific moments of a fight."

Amelia had been taking advantage of the break to rest her arms a little, but she saw the truth in Ricardo's judgement. She realized she had never really forced him to get serious with his defence, and she knew that that had to change, just like a lot of other things. "Your problem, which is not really a problem because I taught you that way, is that every single attack of yours is aimed at hitting the opponent. This may suffice against a poorly trained foe, but against a prepared enemy these attacks are rarely successful on their own. A good adversary will know how to evade, dodge, block or parry any of those attacks from any of the stances he knows. But! If you use preliminary attacks to disrupt their stance and defensive capabilities - then it's a whole different story."

The girl looked at her smallsword and that of her mentor, again seeing the truth in his words. Coming to think of it, it was quite obvious - she had been taught to deal with textbook attacks, so she should not expect textbook attacks to land, either. "So... what this means is a part of my attacks won't be directed at the opponent, but somewhere else - like his weapon." The Daltinan grinned broadly. "Right there, good girl. It is much easier to break through someone's defence if you weaken it first. El Viatre isn't about seeing who lands a blow first, it is about outclassing your opponent little by little and finally ending it all with exactly one incredibly accurate attack."

"Makes sense." Amelia studied Ricardo's weapon, wondering how to make it less dangerous and easier to get through when attacking. "But what exactly should I do?" Yes, for theory was all nice and good, but the Adjurator had no idea what to do in practice. Thankfully, it seemed that the answer was (or at least sounded) actually pretty simple. "It always starts as an Estocada," the swordsman said, "but the aim and direction both differ, as well as the forces you apply during the attack, which broadens your repertoire a lot. These are called Engagements, and you already know two - the Parry, and the attack or riposte along the blade, sometimes also called Coulé. There are two more engagements that you need to acquire, and those are the Attack au fer and the Prise de fer."

"The Attack au fer is an attack prepared by deflecting the enemy's blade before you go for the actual blow. Depending on how you do that, it goes by different names. If you hit the blade for a moment to push it aside, it is called Beat. If you do it by grazing and sliding, it is Froissement. If you push it through contact but do not slide, it is Pressure." Amelia nodded slowly every time, imagining the moves involved. Then she was asked to demonstrate each, first beating or pushing his blade aside and then lunging forward for the actual blow. Depending on how he reacted, this may also change the tempo, so she took note of that.

Sunset was fast approaching. Ricardo decided that with the Prise de fer they would call it a brightening. That would give her the technical repertoire she needed. What she did with it, depended on her alone.

[Amelia Lynsdaughter]

"Now, Prise de fer - or 'taking the blade' - is something a little more complicated than the Attack au fer," the Daltinan explained, shifting into en garde position once more, "when you attack the blade you are typically just trying to get it out of the way for an immediate attack on the opponent, so you will be trying to capitalize on that advantage right away. With the Prise de fer, on the other hand, you are forcing the opponent's weapon into a different line. This may or may not lead to an immediate direct attack on them; it may be used in a number of strategies both defensive and offensive. Distraction, loss of grip on their hilt, protection of your own weak lines, or simply disrupting their guard where you want to hit them - you can achieve all of this and more with it."

"There are four Prises de fer that I want you to remember: the Bind, the Croisé, the Envelopment and the Opposition." The Bind, when he demonstrated it, was a diagonal action; it forced the opponent's blade into the opposite line, for example from high inside to low outside. The Croisé, also called Half-bind, worked much like the Bind, except it had no horizontal component; it simply forced the blade up or down, not diagonally. Both actions took the equivalent of an Estocada's time to perform.

The Envelopment was more spectacular, but also more difficult to perform. Here the opponent's blade was swept through a full circle, with devastating effects on the grip - Amelia simply dropped the blade when it was tested on her. Finally, the Opposition made sure that the enemy's blade was forced into a non-threatening line, when it could not be brought to dangerous attacks in a single movement. In doing so, the target remained open to an attack from the main gauche, just to name one.

"This will do for today," Ricardo concluded. They were both tired, though Amelia clearly had struggled much more with the lesson. "Have some rest, let what you learnt today settle in your mind, and come back tomorrow, early in the morning." The younger fencer nodded tiredly and sheathed her sword. "I will," she replied. "But... I was wondering..." "What's the matter, Amelia? If you have questions, you should just ask them." The girl just gave him one of her strange, half saddened looks, but seemed to retreat. "No, nothing. I will see you tomorrow."

And with that, the girl took a polite leave, returning to the manor, where she had a light pracenda, bathed and went to sleep early. She did not actually sleep much, staring at the ceiling throughout most of the darkening. She almost wanted to talk with her father's ghost... almost. Her father would not understand, just like he could not understanding any need of hers other than his own. He found it impossible to consider that Amelia could have other drives in life than simply carrying out her duty to him. No, she had no-one to confess her fears to -- she knew she would sound stupid or pathetic if she did. And Amelia could face death, but she could not face being pitied.

[Amelia Lynsdaughter]

The following brightening brought some haze over the city of Nexus Prime. The air felt cool on Amelia's skin as she made her way to Ricardo's former house for her training. She left the manor at an early time of brightening, not wanting to miss out on the little time she had left to train for the duel. When she arrived, she found him already waiting for her, meaning that he had arrived at an early time indeed. His mood and attitude seemed different, as well - less formal, less technical, more flamboyant than the day before. The girl, who was dressed in more comfortable trousers for the spar, wondered what he was cooking up for her.

"Oh, Amelia, how splendiferous for you to be here on this fine darkening. Shall we begin?" "Um... yes, of course." Amelia gave Ricardo a a slightly funny look and drew her sword, ready to begin. "Yesterbrightening, you learnt a lot of swordplay techniques. Now it is time for you to earn your plumage and start using them like you are supposed to in El Viatre. There is much more to the art than just swordsmanship. Today you are going to learn how to fight with style. Remember what I told you back then? We don't just fight to win - we fight to win by our own rules, and keeping up our own standards. Compromise just isn't for us."

Amelia was not really sure where Ricardo was going with his reasoning, but nodded. "So... I'm learning 'style' today, right? That sounds nice, and even better if you think it will help me to actually win a fight..." Ricardo grinned broadly. "Form is its own essence - did I not tell you this once? You are incorrect on one count, however; style cannot be taught, only celebrated." And with that, the fencer started their newest bout without a main gauche weapon, though he had asked Amelia to keep hers in her hand. He was upon her in a flash, and their blades crossed a few times. The Adjurator was clearly getting better and better at stopping these attacks.

Then came the unexpected. Ricardo removed his hat all of a sudden and threw it at Amelia! It ended up hitting her own hat, causing its brim to drop down and cover her eyes. The girl gasped, and next thing she knew, Ricardo's smallsword - definitely not a training sword - was pointing at her throat, while his hat had returned on top of his head. "You are dead, Amelia. You will have to fight beyond the sword. The blade remains the protagonist, but a good story has many side characters. If you can think of it and it is not rude or vulgar, then it is fair game in El Viatre. If your opponent did not think of it first, then it's a mark of their own incompetence."

The girl adjusted the haunted hat over her chestnut-haired head. "Obtaining an edge... using the blade or any way I can... as long as it will not debase me." She murmured the concept slowly. This was different from the rest of her training, she considered. "In El Viatre, this is called Lucre. It roughly means 'shameful gain', but it's not actually shameful - it's part of what we are. We don't go around lopping heads off; but that doesn't mean we necessarily play by the usual, boring rules." Lucre... It had a nice ring to it - and what else should be expected of a style wher