SARP Reboot: Part 1

9:00AM
It was cold in the morning here, I'd noted as I'd come out of my room dressed in black shorts and a white T-shirt, given to me by the school. I rubbed my arms to try to get warm, my breath clouding the air in front of my face. I was trying to listen to the instructor, but it was far too cold for me to give my full attention. I caught the last bit, though.
"... And to demonstrate, Emeline Winterhalter, Elizabeth Vane. Find a training weapon that's close enough to your souls, and come here." The Instructor ordered, somewhat catching me off guard, though I followed his instructions, picking up a massive wooden sword. Elizabeth had picked up a short-sword, and was holding it in one hand so comfortably, it might as well have been an extension of her. I wouldn't be too surprised if she was good with a sword, it was quite common to practice swordplay if you were a noble in Lamorak. "Armour." The instructor said, and two people, a man and a woman, came out carrying an assortment of pads in the shaps of various armour.

The woman came to me, looked over me once, and strapped the heaviest looking armour onto my body, handing me a great helm to complete the look. It was heavy, but I could still move quite easily. Elizabeth, on the other hand, had been kitted out in what looked to be imitation mail. I could see where this was going, and gripped my wooden sword in both hands.

Ah the cold. Always the cold. Biting little needles that sink into your face and other exposed areas. I knew it so well from when my dad and I were tossed into the street at winter's dawn. Unlike some of my other classmates, I wasn't shivering though. You spend so long out in that cold, you grow used to it, and this early morning chill that was around us did not compare to that winter. My instructor gave me orders and I found myself holding a wooden baton that was a rough duplicate of my dagger. They gave me armor as well, padded clothes to wear for practice.

Donning the practice gear, I got ready to face.....well, whoever they decided to have be my opponent. I wondered how well I'd do. Or rather, how well they'd do. I won't exaggerate, I was not a master of knife fighting but after my time on the streets with my gang, I learned fast how to hold my own in a fight just as fast on how to use a blade. And I was willing to bet that my opponent wouldn't have had as much experience as me.

At least, I hoped anyway.

Elizabeth swung her sword towards me. She was definitely used to swords, but I could tell that I was better and neatly parried her attack. I smirked under my helmet as I swung my weapon in a downwards arc towards her. I saw her stabbing towards my stomach and managed to stop if from winding me, but it still hit my ribs. I switched my grip on my sword, holding it further up the blade with one hand, like a spear. I jabbed out, keeping Elizabeth as far away as possible, like this I had an advantage. I thrust out again, only for her to side step it and bring herself close enough to me that she could hit me.

I blocked the attack just in time, but now she had my weapon trapped. I was probably stronger than she was, but she was above me, allowing her to press her full weight down. This close, I could see her gritting her teeth as she tried to break my defense. I swung my head forwards onto her nose, sending her stumbling back. I righted my own balance, and swung low, taking her legs out from under her while she was still reeling from the unexpected headbutt. I stepped over and jabbed her in the chest with the 'blade' of the sword.

The instructor came over, and checked Elizabeth over. She was bruised, and her nose was possibly broken. A couple of students had stopped their own practices after Elizabeth had started shouting and watched. As of now, however, I'd been told to sit out of the 'lesson' for now. I supposed he didn't want to risk more injuries.

We were supposed to fight, but my sparring partner paused to look at the commotion two spaces down. Those girls from yesterday, Emeline and Elizabeth, had been sparring and apparently Emeline kicked her ass. But when the distraction was over, my partner, holding a large wooden axe in their hands, came at me with the first move. They swung their axe in a horizontal swing that, had the axe been real, could have sliced open my stomach. But I danced back a step outside their reach and left them exposed as the axe reached the end of its arc and I sprang forward, the wooden dagger held close to my chest.

Before they could move the shaft of the axe to block, I was too close so instead they turned at the hips, the tip of my weapon glancing off the side of their abdomen instead of scoring a direct hit like planned. One of his hands let go of the weapon and came flying at me, slugging me in the cheek and sending me stumbling back. Instead of reaching up to touch my cheek, I glared at him instead, lips peeling back in a silent snarl. Flinging myself at him, I ducked under the next punch and returned a punch of my own into his stomach. It didn't do much with the padding he wore and honestly did more to hurt my hand, but I didn't care as I then hit him with the wooden dagger, the blow striking the side of his left knee where the padding was weakest. He screamed as suddenly his knee cracked along the side and bent slightly inward, sending him down. I wanted to do more but our instructor was on us--or rather me--in an instant. He grabbed me around the shoulders and pulled me back saying "That's enough!"

Ha! What sport this would be. Iulius picked up a spear like weapon and donned no armor. His opponent did not follow his lead. There were not many whose Souls were pole-arms. Something that Iulius thought was peculiar. His opponent, a tall and lanky sort, as some teenagers tend to be, awkward in their own body, stood before him. Donned in some mock armor that looked to be of Lamorak influence. Iulius stood relaxed, in his t-shirt and shorts, armor-less.

This relaxed stance might have confused the opponent for a bit, but when an Angel asked why they were not fighting, the boy hurriedly got into what he thought to be a fighting stance. He probably was not used to fighting. Iulius moved one foot back, but otherwise did not change his relaxed posture. With the Angel watching now, the other boy felt pressured into attacking, he was nervous. Probably felt like he was being judged, if he was that sort of person. His guard was down and Iulius quickly took advantage of that by leveling the pole-arm and hitting his oncoming opponent square in the chest. He would have been knocked to the ground if he was not a head taller than Iulius. Instead, he tumbled sideways to the ground, turning on his planted foot. Iulius rolled away from his fallen opponent and readied himself for another charge. The Angel appear not to be watching, however.

So Iulius stood and waited for his opponent to stand. That they could have another bout. "Scipisne...?" Iulius whispered to himself. The boy got up again, he looked a bit flustered. This time Iulius moved into a proper fighting stance. This time this Lamorakian boy did not charge him. He advanced slowly, in proper form no less, towards Iulius. This time it was Iulius who would make the first move, he made a high feint and as his opponent went to block this high feint he moved in to strike the middle area. His opponent saw this and moved his spear down to block and was successful. Perhaps that first charge was a test.

I wanted to keep fighting, to get back at the guy on the ground but a faint part of me realized that enough had been done to him. So I stopped resisting and let the instructor guide me off the field. They were somewhere between angry....and approving. From what I gathered as they muttered to me, they didn't approve of how I wanted to keep hurting a classmate, but on the other hand they approved of the skill and ferocity. Which made sense in a way, after all we were being trained to fight demons. You don't fight demons and monsters, without your own ferocity added to the measure.

That said, I still broke a boy's knee, so they put me in the penalty box. I sat on the same bench as Emeline though I left a wide gap between us. Just because we were in the same box together, did not mean we had to talk to each other. Well, I wasn't planning t start anything anyway.

As Conner sat down, I removed my helmet and held it in my lap, looking at the blood splat where it'd smashed into Elizabeth's face. It wasn't a glamourous move, but I'd always been taught that you should fight to win. That said, this was still a practice. I looked over at Conner.
"You shouldn't have hit him like that," I said to him, "His leg might not heal."

A bit surprised at the fact that Emeline talked to me, I looked away, not ashamed so much as bored. "It wasn't that bad," I said quietly. "Believe me, I've seen worse and that was anything but. So he should be fine." Smirking a little, though making sure the expression was out of sight, I then said "Besides.....pain's always been a good motivator, especially when it's for sparring practice. He'll learn, not make the same mistakes, and be a better fighter for it."

Snorting quietly, I looked around as the other students were busy trading blows with one another, the clack of wooden weapons striking each-other filling the air, as if the students were trying to match the beat of a fast paced drum solo. "That's what we're supposed to be when we come out of this school, isn't it?" I asked her, looking at her intently. "Fighters, soldiers.....killers. Against demons, I know but in the end it's all the same thing."

"If you think fighting in the real world is anything like that, you're going to be one of the first to die," I said, wiping the blood off of the helmet, "This was a test, you know?"

"Having lived in the real world, out there in the streets fighting for scraps," I calmly countered, "I could just as easily say you're not ready for the real world. Then again, her bloody nose says otherwise."

As the two were going to return to their second bout of spear-fighting, an Angel interrupted and ordered Iulius to wear armor. So Iulius and the Lamorakian returned to the field to finish their duel. The Lamorakian struck first. He went as to strike with the head of the spear and feinted, striking Iulius with the butt of the spear. Iulius was caught off guard with this maneuver and fell backwards onto the ground and rolled back defensively. Bringing up his guard as the Lamorakian advanced upon him. Though the fight was sloppy in form and technique, they traded blows quite often and neither seemed to be any less determined than the other. Iulius soon grew tired enough to let his guard down for just a second. A second that the Lamorakian took advantage of and disarmed Iulius. Now having naught but his fists, Iulius took hesitant steps back. The Lamorakian was determined, however, and followed Iulius with intent. Iulius changed his strategy, however, and waited to counter or dodge his opponents attack. The Lamorakian advanced on Iulius but he held his ground. Jumping or rolling out of the way or out of reach from the the spear-wielder's attacks.

Then an opportunity presented itself. The Lamorakian stepped forward and made to thrust his spear at Iulius. Iulius pivoted slightly on one foot and allowed the spear to pass within a hairs breadth of him and then grabbed the spear as his opponent fully extended his arm to complete the thrust. He pulled the Lamorakian towards him and kicked him in the face. He was wearing a helmet, but the move startled him and he let go of the spear and fell to the ground. Iulius was left standing with the spear of his opponent.

Still seated at the bench, I took Emeline's silence as....well, nothing really. Maybe she agreed with me, or maybe she gave up on the conversation. For a moment I was a bit let down--we may not have shared the same viewpoint but that didn't mean I couldn't enjoy conversing with her.

Even if she was well.....a noble princess.

"My father's in the military," I said in answer to Conner, "He taught me a lot, and a lot of nobles practice with swords anyway, even if it is mostly for show."

"So what, does that men you've never been in a fight?" I asked, surprised how glad I was to have a conversation.

"I was taught to fight," I said, "Every one of those practices was a real fight. It's the only way to learn."

"But let me guess," I said. "They were all wooden weapons, no steel, no real threat of dying?"

"Not at first," I said, "But once I was good enough we used blunted steel. The threat of being seriously hurt or killed was there."

"Heh, guess I was wrong about you nobles," I said, grinning slightly. "Well......some of you anyway. Elizabeth still met my expectations."

"It's not entirely their fault," I said, "If my mother had her way, I'd probably have been just like them." It was true, my mother had been the one to object to real training and hadn't been particularly happy when I'd come to Sanctum.

"So by that logic, I should hate the parents more than the children?" I asked her.

"No, you shouldn't hate them, period." I answered.

"Hey," I said, my voice more playful than hurt. "You see me dictating who you should hate?"

"Your life might depend on people like Elizabeth one day," I answered him, looking ahead at the sparring students, "It'll be easier if you don't hate the people you stand with."

"Well if we get put in teams and get a choice of who to fight with," I said, "that'll be a little bit easier. Besides, I doubt that Elizabeth--at the very least--will deign to work with me."

"She would," I said, turning my head to look at him, "She's petty and matieralistic, but even she knows it's better to have friends than enemies."

"Even if one of those friends is a street rat like me?" I asked her, staring back. There may have been a small amount of venom in the words, and I quickly stated "Sorry, nothing against you but.....a lot of the nobles or other higher ups I've met haven't been as.....courteous, as you."