She was a wonder with the sword, at least compared to a waste of talent like himself. She held her sword like it was a part of her arm, like she was fated to carry one in her hand. The way she would swing her blade was eye-catching, with swift and clean arcs, short and precise thrusts and perfectly positioned parries. It was all an art to him, and maybe she wasn't a good artist, but regardless he envied her ability. He wished he was an artist too, he wished he was stronger.
"Snap out of it. You have a job to do"
He took a deep breath and immediately regretted it, grimacing as his whole torso flared up in pain. Hidden under his robes was a disturbing scene of dark bruises and welts, made the day before by a sadistic artist. He was glad that the only people on the training ground were him, Hectre and the random house guard she picked to be her sparring partner for today. He didn't know how Hectre would react if he did tell her, as she didn't seem to care when Hagh and pike had separated the two of them. On the other hand, didn't he tell her they should trust each other?
He continued to watch Hectre spar against her opponent, to make her art, against the mundane guard he couldn't bother to care about. When she swung her sword down at her opponent he yelled out a question to her:
"What is the most common description of the Thieving Swooper and who do we have to thank for that description!"
The line of questioning caused her to falter, the downward slash missing its mark. Hastily, and out of left field, instead of jumping back she swiftly rotated around her opponent and struck at him again and again, applying pressure to her foes' guard.
"Um, the… Thieving Swooper… is orange furred, kite thing… give it up!"
She tried answering during the crossing of her swords before pushing her opponent back,
"...Discovered by an explorer by the name of Arod from Tobos on his great journey through the mortal realms"
Once again she advanced on her foe. The sparring session continued on and Nyiko waited for his next opportunity. This strange lesson was not something that he had suggested but an idea that his lady had come up with all by herself. He was skeptical about the idea but now he couldn't deny the results, whatever that was going on in her strange mind it allowed her to both focus on answering his questions and fighting her opponent. Honestly, she didn't do either perfectly but at least she was able to.
'Wow… it actually works, but I doubt it'd be effective to do it everyday but maybe as a revision exercise…'
"What in War's name am I watching?"
Nyiko's head cocked to his left to see who had spoken up. The speaker was an old man, most likely in his sixties but he didn't let his age show in the way he carried himself. He was tall and his form lanky and thin. He stood tall to high, his head held high and his eyes following the battling hectare like a hawk.
"A farce, an accursed joke on my swordsmanship, that's what it is" The old man complained.
Nyiko did not react to the older gentleman's words as he didn't want to bring any attention to himself or worse the man speaking to him. The old man continued to watch Hectre in uncomfortable silence, making Nyiko self-conscious as he continued to ask Hectre questions. Every pause, every stumble made the silence around the two bystanders that much heavier as the man judged Hectre's every move and every invisible judgement made Nyiko sweat. He felt as if he was the subject of that man's assessment.
Hectare dropped below the other fighter's guard and grasped the hilt of her training sword , intending to perform some kind of upward slash.
"H-how m-many, no wait, what's the total number of degrees of the interior angles of an equilibrium triangle" He barely managed to stammer out.
She followed through, the dull edge of her training clashing with her partner's. She broke her adversary's guard and sent her away with a powerful front kick. Instead of applying more pressure she turned her head in his direction;
"Hey, Nyiko! Try asking shorter questions! Preferably not arithmetic questions!"
She immediately turned back to her opponent, just managing to block her opponent's blade and almost tripping over herself in the process of retreating.
The older man pried his eyes away from the sparring match and instead they seemingly went to bore into Nyiko's soul, causing a shiver to run down his spine.
"You slave, are you responsible for this… frankly I don't even want to give it a name. Point it, was this your idea"
Nyiko panicked, he hurriedly faced the man to answer, slightly bowing to him as he did.
"N-no sir, I mean my lord it was not my idea,"
The old man's eyes narrowed and his torso leaned into Nyiko's personal space, he was so close Nyiko could have sworn he felt the man's breath on his exposed neck.
"Look into my eyes, halfman" He ordered
Nyiko cautiously lifted his head to let his eyes gaze into the man's cold, stone-like eyes. For some reason, he felt just like how he felt when he was first forced to strip in front of his wardens. He felt way too exposed, like everyone who looked his way would be able to see who he truly was. His nakedness. His shame.
The old man, who Nyiko theorized may be Hectre's instructor Aurol, after 5 five long uncomfortable seconds leaned away from him with a look of clear and unambiguous contempt. Aurol turned away from Nyiko, spinning on his heel looking ready to leave but before he did, he said something that was most likely addressed to him.
"How awful, not only are you Eunuch, you're also the longful type" He scoffed before he called out to Hectre, putting an end to the sparring match.
As the instructor Aurol strode towards Hectre she laid her weapon to rest at her side as she gave her master a brief bow. Soon the two were deep in conversation, too far away for Nyiko 'accidentally' to easily drop on them and he was too shaken up to make any guesses from their bodily language. In all truth, Nyiko felt as if on a dime he would have a panic attack. He held his hands tightly behind his back, trying to reinforce the bursting damn that was his emotions. He was so distracted in fact he didn't notice Hecte coming his way.
"Come now, we're off", she instructed, not paying attention to his condition as he sped out of the training grounds and into the halls of the keep. Nyiko hurried after her but he couldn't but to look behind him as he did. Instructor Aurol weighed the training sword in his hand, each movement of his wrist looked practiced and his eyes focused only on the blade. However, his eyes unexpectedly landed on him.
Nyiko hurriedly turned away from him and followed Hectre.
'Gods, why does he look at me with such contempt?'
He quickly averted his gaze and continued to follow Hectre out of the training hall. Soon the empty halls of the keep echoed with the two's footsteps. Nyiko was having a hard time trying to keep up with Hectre's pace, he was even speedwalking to try to keep up with her. It seemed, away from the scrutinizing eye of her sword instructor, she let herself have a modicum of self expression, her gait looked almost giddy. When she felt his steps behind her she turned to face with a broad smile that reached her brown eyes.
"Wh-what's got you smiling so much my lady," Nyiko asked, still struggling to keep up even though the heiress was walking backwards to talk to him.
"Oh me? Nothing really, just a little happy about my progress. Even Instructor Aurol has commented on how much more powerful I seem to be"
"Oh that's great Hectre," Unsure what else to do he attempted to make his congratulations sound more sincere by applauding. Of course punctuated by a calm 'Woop!'
It was cringe but it at least brought on a giggle fit from Hectre. Catching her breath she spoke again;
"Oh yeah, Instructor Aurol also told me that slave you asked for was sent to my room,"
Almost simultaneously Nyiko both glowered and brightened, happy that his plan was moving ahead and uncomfortable with Hectre's wording.
"Please don't say it like that, you makes it sound like I had directly asked you to find me a slave"
"No instead, instead you awkwardly suggested."
Nyiko had no comeback to this, falling silent in response. Hectare chuckled as they made their way to her abode.
***
'Well I never thought I'd see her again,'
A familiar face stood before the two of them, Nyiko and Hectre. She was a woman with hair that fell down her shoulders like a meandering ochre waterfall, perfectly framing the natural beauty of her face with its soft honey skin and blush of some kind of make up. The way her hair was styled led the eyes down to her robes which were the same color as his, red and purple, but wrapped around her figure in a way that would make a wandering eye scan her curves.
'No! Stop thinking like that, you perv!'
Through her now washed and manicured appearance Nyiko still recognised the woman that he rode in with, though she did act a little differently from their first meeting. She bowed to Hectre, one so practiced it was she had been working foR the keep for years.
"This humble slave greets you lady Hectre, on loan from the castellan" She spoke, her voice still and calm and her torso bowed still.
Clearing her throat Hectre welcomed her;
"Well me and my scholar slave are happy to have you here. You may be wondering why your here, so let me be the one to tell you what's what"
She gave a quick look towards Nyiko, before continuing on with her spiel.
"I wish… to learn more about your culture, and please, feel free to speak to me casually. We're going to be friends afterall"
The Amber-headed slave did not react, only blankly staring at the two people in front of her. Hectre seemed to be somewhat affected by the slave's response as her shoulders slumped slightly. The silence that came was awkward, no one really eager to try to continue the conversation. The slave's amber eyes drifted around the room till they landed on a strawn out herbalism kit on top of a desk; a mortar and pestle, clippers, pot and kettle, empty and filled vials of mysterious substances and emptied pouches.
She took a step into that direction before she looked to Hectre, her face still blank though the observant would see that her face was losing its passivity.
"Lady Hectre, may I inspect your work? It appears you were busy with something"
Quietly, though Nyiko could hear since he was close enough, the click of her tongue. Her brows slightly furrowed and a scowl began to form on her lips but when she glanced at his face, with his wide pleading eyes she seemed to lose whatever… emotion she had bubbling up.
She stared into her lap as she spoke;
"Yeah whatever, go ahead. I mean as those desert folk say, you may treat my tent as your tent" she said half-heartedly. The Amber Druid took it in stride and strode to the kit and herbs. Her eyes grew sharp and discerning, carefully scanning each item. Her hands caressed the mortar with cold analytical focus. An obnoxiously loud cough caught her attention, she turned to look at Hectre, the source.
"You know it's rude to not tell someone your name, right?"
The slave, taking another bold step, stared down at Hectre. She answered her, the druid's voice losing all its passivity.
"Drella mistress, my name is Drella. If I may speak freely, it appears you have been attempting to make potions. I am willing to help you in this as my people are skilled in this craft and you clearly appear to lack talent"
Nyiko's eyes widened at the audacity, his quickly moving between the two strong figures. Hectare hid her irritation with a broad smile.
"I … see, yes you must be right…"
She sprung off her bed with a jolt and crossed the distance between her and Drella, standing next to her with her muscles drawn taught in some kind of intimidation tactic.
"So please show me"
The druid did not flinch, she only gave the heiress the short, pointed look that could have been read as 'really' before she looked back to the desk and began her potion making. The two women stood over the desk in silence.
'Huh? Why do I feel so left out?'
He shook his head. It was good he didn't play a part in this, his socially awkward behind would be unlikely to add or even facilitate the conversation. It was just his luck that it went so well without his involvement. He shifted uncomfortably in his robes but as time passed he did not move from his spot.
'I wonder if she recognized me? I mean she never really looked at me, so I guess not. That sucks, wait! Why the hell should I care if some random grown woman recognizes me?!'
Still… Even with two other people in the room, he couldn't help but feel lonely.