Haelyn

Haelyn

the littlest meanie
Weaver
"Lift it higher, Argante." Called out Syr Ceron. "The blade is not that heavy." A grin spread across his mouth.

That only made Haelyn Argante grit her teeth to see. With a groan of irritation, loud enough to let them all hear, she lifted the blade again and struck out against Syr Ceron, who deflected her strike with ease.

Even with the entire camp watching, Haelyn did not quit. She did not tire, for she knew she would hate that most to show such a weakness. The squire was small, which had been often pointed out to her in lessons and training, and she lacked muscle that could lend to wielding the borrowed swords of the Sworn Knights.

"Alright, alright. That is enough!" Ceron chuckled. "Step up, Vale!" The dawnling looked about the area, found the other squire in their retinue, and beckoned him forward. "Perhaps the squires can learn a thing or two from one another, eh?"

Narrowed eyes gave away what Haelyn thought of that idea, that the Knight Sworn deemed her too inexperienced with the blade to entertain their camp. Squire pitted against squire, that called for comedy judging by the jeers and laughter coming from the drunkards by the fire. Haelyn straightened, lifted her chin. It was this, or skin potatoes for their dinner.

"Fine." She said in a voice that did not indicate anything short of fine. "But I want actual feedback, Syr Ceron. I thought you were the most capable of us all and could shed some light on such an aged experience."
 
"She's pretty strong for her size."

Yuric, like many of the others around him, had been treating the display more like a spectator sport than a lesson, chin resting on his arms as he peered through the shoulders of his peers. He hadn’t gotten to know many of the other people in the few months since he arrived, not for lack of trying, but Vale was far better at sinking into his studies and training than into conversation.

Funny, really: running away to Astenvale, he’d worried whether they’d even let him stay. Turns out, becoming a squire had been the easy part.

"You're really not much bigger, Yuu.

A smile tugged at his lips as he reached up to flick the flittering blue light hovering beside him. It sputtered, bounced in protest, and then vanished.

"It’s not a contest, Lilly."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than Syr Ceron called his name. Yuric snapped upright, just in time to see the knight step aside and gesture toward the sparring circle, toward her.

Haelyn, was it?

"Yes, sir!" Vale stood straight, his voice carrying his best attempt at sounding remotely confident. Sure, he was nervous walking toward the circle, but he wasn’t apprehensive. He wanted this. Any chance to prove he wasn’t just some runaway punk who claimed to see ghosts, he’d take it gladly.

Anxiety was a lot more tolerable when you mixed in excitement and anticipation.

Coming to stand across from Haelyn, Yuric offered her a small, earnest smile, then took up the blade Ceron handed him. His stance widened, grounding him for whatever exchange lay ahead. In his ear, the little voice returned, this time without its usual teasing edge.

"She’s a spunky one. Probably going to come at you fast and hard."

Yuric gave a small nod in response, eyes turning a shade darker with a sheen of steel focus. Instead of waiting for her to make the first move, he slid forward, taking the initiative.

@Haelyn
 
Retaliation was an art, and Haelyn was a brushstroke held in a practiced hand. Her training for combat had it's challenges and successes, but it soon became apparent she could be quick.

She was never the first to strike, and for good reason.

Whereas the demonstration with Syr Ceron had been to simply humour how deep in his cups he was, to which proved he had been sloppy as he met her every move, Haelyn now held her sword with a better grip. It was not meant for two handed wielding, but her hands were much smaller than that of the Pursuant who had lended his blade. Steel came to slice through the air to meet Yuric's greeting, and Haelyn steadied a foot to pivot upon, letting the other squire move past her.

Ceron was clapping, cheering for one of them. She did not care to listen, not when she readied herself for the next series of lunges. The two met each other blow for blow. Minutes passed by and her arms began to tire. She had been at this longer than Vale had, for Ceron ran her through a series of drills before challenging her to light sport. Haelyn gritted her teeth.

"You aren't shifting your weight properly. I am not going to come out of this a winner all because you fell over your own feet.

"She's right you know." Syr Ceron agreed. Haelyn scowled at him. "And you aren't moving your feet enough, Argante!"
 
For all the potential Yuric had, and of that there was plenty, his inexperience was obvious as his steel met that of Haelyn's. She was faster, and could have damned well been stronger.

The raw determination she came at him with nearly knocked him on his ass within seconds, and the next thirty were a frantic scramble to keep from eating dirt. He was on the defensive from the start, backpedaling and sidestepping with every strike just to stay upright.

By the time five minutes had passed, pain twisted at the edges of his expression. His wrist throbbed, the numb ache spreading from every jarring blow that rattled up his arm. More than once, he’d nearly walked straight into the edge of her sword, and she’d noticed.

"You aren't shifting your weight properly. I am not going to come out of this a winner all because you fell over your own feet.
Click to expand...

With a seething swear beneath his breath, he took a bold step forward, parrying her next blow with a finesse he hadn't managed before and regaining some of his lost ground.

"Five minutes ain't bad though, Right?" A cheeky, almost defiant grin crossed his lips as he tried to take their words in stride, moving with his sword, instead of trying to shift against it. "Bet you a week of cleaning duty I can make it ten?"

@Haelyn
 
Why was he smiling? He had nothing to smile about.

But he smiled even when he saw a positive to his weak movements at defense. It made her scowl, but his challenge earned him narrowed eyes. "A week?"

A week was a fair amount of time, especially when one considered a week of cleaning duties to be palmed off to someone else. Her quiet deliberation made Syr Ceron chuckle. "Aye, girl. Not a bad trade there."

Haelyn watched Yuric closely. It was much alike to the way her Guardian of the Wyld watched her, every bit the predator of a lynx watching her as if she were a meal if she didn't tread carefully. "Alright then." She hefted up her sword, gritting her teeth at it's awful weight. "I suppose it would be nice not to muck out the stalls for the beasts."

Blades clashed, the impact shuddering down her arm. She frowned at how he had taken in her critique, had adjusted and now moved better. Perhaps Yuric Vale wasn't lousy. Syr Ceron echoed her thoughts, audibly, and encouraged Haelyn to really give him a dance to learn.
 
He didn’t actually care whether he got stuck with mop duty, but Haelyn clearly did, and that alone was enough to make her swing like it meant something. That flicker of seriousness in her eye was all the motivation Yuric needed to rise to the occasion. He wasn’t under any illusion that he’d win. Even the small tug of warning he felt on the back of his ear--his trusted companion’s way of expressing doubt--made it clear he was pushing his luck.

Still, he'd be a piss-poor Knight-to-be if he laid down his arms and didn't do his best to prove her scowling little ass wrong

With a rebellious smirk tugging at his lips, he met her halfway as she came at him again. This time, he didn’t bother trying to counter, he already knew how that would end. Haelyn had a talent for turning his attacks against him, and that’d only burn him out faster.

Instead, he focused entirely on defense. Parry, reposition. Keep his footing light. Let her drive herself forward while he absorbed and deflected, recalling the pointers Syr Ceron had given, and the more subtle, cutting corrections Haelyn herself had thrown his way.

He didn’t need to overpower her. He didn’t need to outmatch her.

He just needed to outlast her.

@Haelyn
 
If this was a test of wyld and pursuit, Haelyn would do a great manner of excellent moves to prove herself. The blade, steel, metal... she had once told Syr @Josai that metal had a voice. It was quick to defend, just as her opponent had now turned his efforts too. She frowned, frustrated that Yuric had turned the tides to his favour. Everyone was calling to them, cheering them on and heckling.

Her opponent was smirking, and with newfound motivation to push through, to see that smirk be gone from his stupid face, then she would find any means necessary.

This sword was too big for her. After circling the other squire, she stared him down and tossed it aside. Syr Ceron protested, but hastily went to retrieve his blade and darted back a safe distance.

Haelyn leaned down, a hand disappearing to her boot. From it, she retrieved a small dagger. It had been Syr Cathmore that told her to always keep one hidden. One will never know when something so small could give an advantage.

"Ready to change the game?" She asked. "You can keep your sword if that helps your masculinity."
 
Everything seemed to come easier to him with every strike of steel against steel that he deflected. Each time Haelyn swung her blade, Yuric felt as though he understood her just a little more-- How she moved, how she thought. It wasn't enough to mount any kind of reasonable offense, but the smirk on Yuric's face was born simply out of the joy of holding his own. That the expression was slowly stoking Haelyn’s temper toward a boil? That much escaped him entirely.

"Yuric! Pay attention!"

He’d let himself get carried away, swept up in the cheers and jeers of the onlookers. Too comfortable. Too predictable. That complacency shattered when his ethereal companion’s warning echoed sharp in his ear. A faint blue sheen clouded his sclera as his eyes darted down just in time to see Haelyn’s hand flash to her boot, dagger in hand, gleaming in the sun.

Her words hung in the air, and Yu faltered. His sword arm went slack, steel trembling as he cast a sidelong glance toward the crowd, as though they might answer for him. He didn’t know the first thing about fighting at knife’s reach. Dagger, fist, grapple. it wasn’t his world. And yet, as if guided by instinct more than sense, his grip loosened. The sword thudded into the dirt.

“I know what you’re thinking. Please don’t get stabbed.”

“No promises, Lill,” he muttered under his breath, a nervous chuckle escaping as he raised his fists. Gods, this was stupid. Which only made the thrill buzzing in his chest all the worse.

“Yeah, sure,” he said louder now, flashing Haelyn his crooked grin. “Just… try not to hit anything vital, yeah?”

For all her grouchy resolve, Yuric doubted she’d truly try to maim him. Still, with the way her eyes gleamed and that dagger danced between her fingers, he wasn’t about to test that theory too far.

@Haelyn
 
She was tempted to bite down on his ridiculous belief she would be so reckless as to inflict actual harm, but biting her tongue instead saved her from any further idiocy he might spill.

Haelyn started, darting towards him with no hesitations. As a young girl, she had always been fast. Prided herself on it when she trained after coming to the monastery. If she had an advantage over the others, then Haelyn would work at it as hard as her limits would take.

Every strike she did, it was done with the butt of her dagger's hilt. The blade evading him was her way of threat. A show of her skill.

"What's more vital?" She breathed, feinting left. "Your shirt, or your belt?" Two strikes towards him, working towards his middle. It was time for Yuric to tire out being on the defensive.
 
"Huff, I dunno..." Yuric barely had the breath to spend on words, Haelyn was making sure to keep him moving at all times, not giving him a second's reprieve. "You trying to hurt me or undress me?"

He really shouldn't have been taunting the girl, not when the hilt of her dagger continued to leave fresh bruises on Yuric's arms as he made vain attempts to defend himself without a dagger of his own. It wasn't like before, when he'd had the advantage of size and upper body strength.

There just wasn't a whole lot he could do to stop her, and he was losing both ground and patience. The surrounding onlookers seemed to move closer, leaning forward in anticipation of a knockdown. Syr Ceron seemed ready to call the impromptu fight as well, already moving towards Yuric's side to scrape him off the dirt once he fell.

Not yet.

"Yuu, no! You haven't...!

The little spirit on his shoulder seemed to realize something before it happened. Perhaps she felt the thinning of the Shroud around Yuric, or noticed the strange blue glow that flickered briefly in his eyes. It didn't matter, there was nothing she could have done to stop him, and her warning was too late to be heeded.

The next time Haelyn paused, however brief, Yuric attempted a counter-attack, surging forward with an open-hand, grabbing for the hilt of her blade. Blue flame kindled in his palm, and a bright flickering light strobed between them as his magic flickered to life.

For all of about a second.

Haelyn's feinting was more than Yuric was able to track, and his attempt missed, sending him face first to the ground. Whatever brief flash of magic had erupted from him left as quickly as it came, and the boy rolled over with a groan, sitting up with a dejected sigh.

"Damn. You're pretty damned fast, Hae."

@Haelyn
 
Haelyn bared her teeth, a depiction of her outrage that Vale resorted to the use of weaving.

She stared down at him, chest rising and falling quickly with the frenzy of going on the offense, but soon turned to attempts at slowing her breathing in order to meet his bait with a level head.

The trees blew on a phantom wind, bristling and tussling, the notes of a song that told of something coming. It caught the attention of many of the Sworn, but none reached for their weapons. They knew by now whom the Wyld came for.

From the boundary of trees reaching high, out stepped a lynx. It watched, the Sworn and other squires first, before turning their attention to the Wyld Weaver. To watch the lynx after some time, one could notice the intelligence in those tawny eyes and how it seemed to understand what was going on. When it moved, a slow prowl towards their Warden, some of the Knights had good sense to step out of it's way.

Haelyn did not need to listen to the wind or birdsong to know her Guardian of the Wyld had found her.

Why did he speak half your name?

"Because he believes that would make us friends." Haelyn replied, aloud. "It means an attempt of braking barriers, and to which, I think the squire should respect my wishes and not use a nickname."

Her previous seething seemed to thin and evaporate with the presence of her Guardian. The lynx came to sit at her side, it's eyes now falling upon Yuric. He looked to be smiling in a way, amused at the other squire. Friend? Little girl, he is just like you. He can hear voices others cannot, just as you are with the language of Wyld.
 
Yuric was either oblivious to how he'd irked Haelyn with his last ditch effort at offense, or he simply didn't let it bother him. Either way, he met her icy stare with only a smile as he pushed himself back up to his feet and took a moment to brush the dirt off his trousers. "Thought maybe I could disarm you and even things up again, but I should have known better."

"You should have listened to your wise and loyal friend, you mean~~"Lilly's voice chirped in his ear, and Yuric rolled his eyes fondly. It was true, she'd warned him. He hadn't been in much of a mindset to take heed, unfortunately.

The boy poked at the fresh bruises on his flesh as the strange lynx bound into view from the trees, boldly leaping down onto the grass and waltzing without a care towards Haelyn. Some of their peers reacted with trepidation and fear but Yuric hardly noticed the creature until he looked up to meet its gaze.

"Ooh, he's pretty! Can we get one, Yuu?"

Yuric tilted his head, squatting down to the Lynx's level and giving it bright smile.
"Who's your friend, Haelyn?" He asked, seemingly oblivious to the remarks she'd just made aloud. Yuric wouldn't have minded a friend, honestly, but he wasn't so foolish as to force the matter on a gal like Haelyn. "Beautiful creature, ain't it? I knew a Paladin who had one, looked just like it."

@Haelyn
 
Haelyn rolled her eyes, already turning away and walking towards a quiet spot. She paid no mind to the other Knight Sworn and squires, and they did their best to not make comment.

The lynx sat there, looking as if he were smiling still as if it were an ever present expression on the feline. His tail twitched, one and twice, and moved slowly to follow his Wyld Ward. A wind picked up, blowing in from behind Yuric and the leaves lifting to flutter down in a straight path. The Wyld gave Yuric the invitation to follow, and should he need another, the lynx stopped a moment and turned to see if the young squire made to follow.

His tail twitched again, beckoning.

He would make a good friend, little girl.

Haelyn snorted, but knew the Wyld always listened. It would hear her response, see her expression of storm clouds, and feel the stomp in her walk.

You listen to him and perhaps I will tell you about my vision of you, little girl.

Her stomps paused. She turned, waited to see where Yuric was with the lynx in between them. "Fine." She had seen a glimpse of this vision. Not just a foretelling of the future, but the lessons to be taught for her to learn and fulfill this role. There was a plan for her, from the Wyld. "But bite him if he says something stupid." Her voice was loud enough to carry to Yuric, ensuring he would hear.

The lynx smiled again.
 
Yuric would've almost preferred a further pounding from Haelyn to her walking away from him. She left without another word, leaving him sitting in the dirt surrounded by equally bewildered onlookers, now with nothing to gawk at but a rookie squire with his ass flat on the ground.

It was awkward, it was embarrassing, it bothered him far more than losing a sparring match.

With muttered grumbles, Yuric rose to his feet, dusting the tiny specks of dirt that clung to his clothes. The youthful confidence that had exuded from him earlier seemed to have left along with Haelyn and the lynx, and he walked with a slight hunch as he shuffled quickly away from the group.

So much for first impressions.

"Don't feel bad, Yuu." Lilly was always the first one to try and lift his spirits, but he wasn't sure he'd be viewed in high regard for talking to an invisible girl. Still, he canted his head slightly, to indicate he was listening.
"I'm sure you'll meet some other squires who are a little less... you know... prickly?"

It was true, he seemed to have picked the angstiest of the lot for his first attempt at making friends. Suppose he spent so much time around dead people that--

"But bite him if he says something stupid."

Yuric's brow furrowed, and he looked up to follow the sound of Haelyn's voice. She stood there, conveniently in his path, nose upturned and eyes averted as though she'd just lost an argument. But... with who? She didn't come off as the crazy type.

Well, maybe a little, but...

"Did you, uh, say something? Yuric spoke with a bit less bravado as he neared her, not looking for anymore embarrassment today."

@Haelyn
 
"Not to you." She skewered him with a barbed gaze, watching his every move until he was close enough, Haelyn lifted a hand to halt him.

Oh, he is merely a pup. Haelyn could hear the amusement in the lynx's voice, spoken only to her. He will grow to be a wolf with sharp teeth one day.

"This is a Guardian of the Wyld." Her hand gestured to the proudly feline, sitting contently at her side. "I am a Proctector of the Wyld." And there, explained their connection, their bond. A promise made, and a promise Haelyn wanted to keep.
Haelyn did not expect someone the likes of Yuric to understand. He was a loud and annoying squire, but he was also a surprise. She did not like that, for Haelyn liked to figure out people by watching them.

Let go of that anger, little thing. Then speak.

Haelyn wanted to defy the request, but she had made a promise. Already, the Wylds had done a lot to help heal her... but the connection to humans and beings always had the squire bolster her defenses. With a slow inhale and exhale, her shoulders relaxing, Haelyn looked to Yuric.

"Any... questions?" It sounded forced, but that was because it had been. It was not his fault he was pitted against her in a fight she was not great at, but the competitive side of her fueled a part of her that always burned hot.
 
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