"Better," Amalia conceded, blocking the incoming foot with the side of her arm. Twisting, she brought the limb around to grasp Aurora's extended foot by the ankle, then lifted it up and over her head, spinning a full circle beneath it and forcing the girl to choose between jumping off her other foot and rotating her own body horizontally in midair (which would make for a blind and tricky landing) or else drop like dead weight, in order to throw off her opponent instead. Both were good choices, provided they could be made quickly enough.
In the eight months or so that Imekari had been under her tutelage, she'd improved greatly, though in all honesty, one could do such exercises as these for half a decade and still hardly touch what there was to be learned. Their lessons, infrequent as they were, were not going to make the girl a master, but they would make her good enough, far better than most and quite capable of looking out for herself without needing to resort to magic. And that was all that mattered. In her year and a half in Kirkwall, Amalia had successfully avoided interacting with Templars in all but a few instances, but that was no excuse for ignorance about their practices, and thus she had learned what she needed to know. They called the Qunari by perjoratives like 'heathen' and 'barbarian,' and yet it was they who couldn't see sense enough to prevent their mages from turning into creatures little better than animals, then slaughtering them as though they were to be blamed for this event. Absurd.
The solution was obviously containment, though she and the rest of her people might disagree on just who could do it. Arveraad were certainly capable, but so was Aurora. Or she would be.
Aurora opted instead to drop all her weight to the ground. She was no bird, and so she tried to keep at least one of her feet on the ground at all times. Perhaps one day she'd become adept enough to pursue aerial acrobatics, but that day was not today. Dead weight it was. She fell backwards, dragging her foot along with her. If Amalia didn't let go, then she'd be pulled right along with her, and ther spar would quickly turn into a wrestling match in the dirt. She expected that Amalia would likely relinquish the hold and let her roll backward back to her feet. There she sighed and tilted her head, perhaps not as enthused about her own progress as Amalia was. "But not perfect," She corrected and stood.
"Perfect is a worthy goal," Amalia conceded, reqlinquishing the younger woman her limb so that she might regain her feet. The point was, after all, not to attack in all the ways she could, but to allow her pupil the opportunity to try breaking through her defense. Not that she was afraid of putting the girl on her rear, of course; she had done so many times before and would do so many more before their time together was ended. "But unattainable. The impotant part is in the striving."
Aurora made a mental note not to lead with any more kicks, and especially not high kicks. She rolled her shoulders and settled into the stance she had since adopted in Amalia's care. Her elbows were tucked in close to her centermass, arms bent at a forty-five degree angle, and her hands were open with the palms on the sides. She was relaxed, balanced, but structured as well Aurora shifted to her left, bringing her foot to the forefront and swapping foremost extended hand. "Again," she said, closing the distance between the two of them. The first punch she threw was a straight left aiming for Amalia's chest. Strengthen the body and strengthen the mind, Aurora had learned. A strong mind was the best defense against the lies whispered by the demons across the veil. While she was by no means perfect, she felt better about herself than she did a year ago. She was more sure of herself, and her ability to keep the fingers of the demons at bay.
Aurora would not be kept in a cage of iron and stone, but of strength and willpower. She would be collared, but it would be her hands that held the keys, no one elses.
The Qunari flowed out of the way of the punch, spinning sideways and aiming an open-handed strike for the mage's shoulder. "Where are your feet?" she asked rhetorically. "Keep your foundation firm, and none shall move you without your consent." As with most things Amalia said in this context, there was a mental meaning as well as a straightforward comment about physicality. This was her role; to deliver such reminders in a way that integrated them; body, mind, and soul, to be all the more effective and permanently remembered.
"But I must be flexible too, so I can bend without breaking. Rooted, but yielding," Aurora agreed with an addendum, and instead of merely ducking out of the way of the blow, she shifted her feet and followed Amalia's spin, deflecting the blow with her forearm. Her elbow never ventured far from her centerline, and she retained her balance throughout and ended up throwing her own closed fist strike at her belly. She was not a terrible student, and she learned the lessons quickly, committing them to heart, but she also came to her own conclusions. Simply memorizing what Amalia taught her was useless. She'd just be reciting words. She needed to learn, understand, and then make it hers. She needed to come up with her own way.
There was a gentle flicker of amusement in Amalia's eyes, and her lips curled up at one corner. It was not the sort of condescending thing one feels at the antics of a fool (she did not find fools amusing, after all), but rather the small satisfaction of a quandary finally making sense, or perhaps what gardeners felt with the first opening of petals in spring. "You've been thinking," she said simply, avoiding the blow headed for her midsection by dropping into a sweep, arcing her legs out to try and entangle them with Aurora's. It was a compliment, coming from the Qunari, though of course Amalia's compliments hardly ever sounded like them. More like observations, as it was rather difficult to find an instance in which she altered her tone from the faintly-disapporving neutrality her people seemed inclined towards.
Sometimes, she wondered if in communicating with others, the Qunari should start prefacing their sentences with their intent, as most people seemed incapable of the subtlety required to properly read into the words. Sarcasm: that sounds like a useful way to spend our words, speaking to those who will refuse to understand anyway. Still, at least the people she actually cared to converse with seemed to take her meaning mostly correctly in the majority of cases. And yet the most recent notable backfiring of this generality still bothered her.
"I needed to. I won't just suddenly have an epiphany and understand everything," Aurora answered. As Amalia dropped into her sweep, Aurora picked her foot up and batted her entangling legs away with her heel, and spun out of Amalia's front, instead coming in from an angle. "I need to think to understand," She said. As she did, her stance changed from the open palms to closed fists, one in front of the other. As she rushed Amalia, she launched a straight blast of fists, a barrage of quick rapid fire punches intended to overwhelm, stepping inside the guard all the while. The movement was clean and fluid, each punch rotating out for another, though her elbows kept close to her centerline. The straight blast was aimed downward at Amalia's chest. If Amalia didn't dodge or counter, then the flurry would rain down on her-- Aurora kept her strength in check just in the off-chance that Amalia wouldn't dodge.
Each of these, Amalia caught in a palm and delfected to the side, save the last, which she dodged instead, bending over backwards until her hands touched the ground behind her, kicking herself upwards into a deft flip, which reset the distance between them. Rather than retaliate, however, she remained still, the birdlike tilt to her head an indication that she was interested in hearing the rest uninterrupted.
"A thinking mind is a strong one. A strong mind is both a free one and a chained one," Aurora smiled. Chains of her own creation, one that she was free to create and lock herself. Aurora did catch the compliment however, she'd come to understand Amalia in the passing months. Though much of the woman was still a mystery, she'd begun to catch the smaller quirks of her person. The hidden compliments, the instances of warmth, to anyone else they might simply filter by.
"Then your thinking serves you well," Amalia replied with a nod. "Stretch to cool down, and tell me of your dreams." Taking her own advice, she moved into several flowing exercises designed to prevent muscles from cramping or locking up at inopportune moments, several of which she'd taught to Aurora as well. It was important to condition the whole body, and not simply the parts that did the attacking. Likewise, the opportunity could easily be taken to condition one's mind, to make oneself aware of the things that were still troublesome, and think through what the possible solutions to those troubles might be. For an ordinary person, this was important. For a mage like Imekari, Amalia suspected it may very well prove vital.
As instructed, Aurora stepped out of her stance and into the cooldown exercises, though she seemed less then enthused about them. It wasn't that she didn't see the value of easing her muscles into a resting state, she just found them to be immensely boring. She hated stretching. She did them without complaint however, as an admonishing remark from Amalia right now would probably spoil the whole session. When Amalia questioned her about her dreams, she was quiet as she thought. She had dreams, yes. Demons and such were the most prolific of them, but at this point they were to be expected. She figured Amalia was asking for something different. There were a couple of dreams between the usual ones.
She sighed as she opened her mouth to talk. "Aside from the normal ones, I dream of home, mostly. Back in Bastion, not the Circle-- that never was home. Sometimes I dream of my family, just sitting around, talking, and laughing. Sometimes even the horizon as the sun set. Sometimes I wish it could all go back to the way it was, you know? Before I was taken to the Circle," but it never would return back to normal. She'd always be a mage, no matter how much she wished otherwise-- even if she did wish otherwise. "It's been six-seven years the last time I even saw my family..." She said somberly.
"What stops you from making it so?" Amalia asked. It was not a derisive question, merely an honest query. "Is avoiding Templars in Antiva so much more difficult than avoiding Templars here?" As she saw it, if this was a time in Aurora's life that was impossible to return to (as most past times were), then it was simply another obstacle to be overcome. If, on the other hand, there might be a way to solve the problem without simply learning to avoid it, this was preferable. Amalia understood little of connection by blood; for the Qunari, your family was always the one you made, and never the one that you were born into. But this was not the case elewhere, she knew.
It wasn't that she hadn't thought about it before. Just uproot herself and leave for Bastion one day. In the years since her break from the Antivan Circle, Aurora had gotten good at staying below the notice of the Templars. It wouldn't take much for her to hope a boat and sail her way back home. The ability to go back home was in her hand. But the motivation was something else entirely. "I've thought about it you know?" she said. She thought about a lot of things. "Just leave and go back. I've thought about it a lot," She said, but there was something else that kept her chained in Kirkwall.
"It's just... It'd be too painful. I've changed. They've changed. They've probably moved on. Besides, it'd be too painful. Like ripping open old wounds, nothing good would come from it," She said, finishing up her stretches and taking a seat on the ground. "I don't even know if they live in the same house, they could've moved while I've been away. Even if they were there, then I don't know if I'd be able to leave it again. If the Templars found me again, then I'd just have to leave them again. It's easier this way, for me and them," That didn't make the pill any less bitter to swallow. It sounded like a lot of complaining to her, and she knew it. But she just didn't think she was strong enough for that.
Not now at least. There was always the possibility of finding them one day. She would never give up that hope, of seeing the Antivan horizon again, of seeing her familiy. She wasn't going to give up that dream. She'd have to become stronger, but she was getting stronger day by day... "One day though. I will find them again. It might not be soon, but one day when I'm stronger, I will find them," With that admission a sure smile crossed her lips. "How are your dreams Amalia?" She asked, turning the question on her.
"Hmph," the Qunari replied, dexterously untwisting herself from what appeared to be some kind of pretzel formation. "I," she replied, "am the instructor here, and not the pupil." This was not an arrangment in which they gave and took the same things. Nevertheless, she deigned to answer the question, after a fashion. "My dreams are as they have always been. I do not often change." Settling herself into a crosslegged position across from Aurora, she considered the implications of the other woman's statements.
"Easy and right are rarely correleated. But we do well to understand our limitations, and work to expand them." It sounded like a decent enough plan to her, if it was indeed this which Aurora wanted.
"It's something to think on and work towards," She agreed, laying back. Aurora was sad that she didn't manage to pry much more out of Amalia's dreams, but it wasn't entirely unexpected. She was still a mystery, after all, and just as difficult to figure out as a safe lock. Still, points for trying. "Easy and right, huh? If only. But then I guess that wouldn't make the successes all that sweeter," She smiled. Though with that bit of thought out of the way, Aurora pulled herself upright and cradled her hands in her lap.
"So what's my next lesson?"
In the eight months or so that Imekari had been under her tutelage, she'd improved greatly, though in all honesty, one could do such exercises as these for half a decade and still hardly touch what there was to be learned. Their lessons, infrequent as they were, were not going to make the girl a master, but they would make her good enough, far better than most and quite capable of looking out for herself without needing to resort to magic. And that was all that mattered. In her year and a half in Kirkwall, Amalia had successfully avoided interacting with Templars in all but a few instances, but that was no excuse for ignorance about their practices, and thus she had learned what she needed to know. They called the Qunari by perjoratives like 'heathen' and 'barbarian,' and yet it was they who couldn't see sense enough to prevent their mages from turning into creatures little better than animals, then slaughtering them as though they were to be blamed for this event. Absurd.
The solution was obviously containment, though she and the rest of her people might disagree on just who could do it. Arveraad were certainly capable, but so was Aurora. Or she would be.
Aurora opted instead to drop all her weight to the ground. She was no bird, and so she tried to keep at least one of her feet on the ground at all times. Perhaps one day she'd become adept enough to pursue aerial acrobatics, but that day was not today. Dead weight it was. She fell backwards, dragging her foot along with her. If Amalia didn't let go, then she'd be pulled right along with her, and ther spar would quickly turn into a wrestling match in the dirt. She expected that Amalia would likely relinquish the hold and let her roll backward back to her feet. There she sighed and tilted her head, perhaps not as enthused about her own progress as Amalia was. "But not perfect," She corrected and stood.
"Perfect is a worthy goal," Amalia conceded, reqlinquishing the younger woman her limb so that she might regain her feet. The point was, after all, not to attack in all the ways she could, but to allow her pupil the opportunity to try breaking through her defense. Not that she was afraid of putting the girl on her rear, of course; she had done so many times before and would do so many more before their time together was ended. "But unattainable. The impotant part is in the striving."
Aurora made a mental note not to lead with any more kicks, and especially not high kicks. She rolled her shoulders and settled into the stance she had since adopted in Amalia's care. Her elbows were tucked in close to her centermass, arms bent at a forty-five degree angle, and her hands were open with the palms on the sides. She was relaxed, balanced, but structured as well Aurora shifted to her left, bringing her foot to the forefront and swapping foremost extended hand. "Again," she said, closing the distance between the two of them. The first punch she threw was a straight left aiming for Amalia's chest. Strengthen the body and strengthen the mind, Aurora had learned. A strong mind was the best defense against the lies whispered by the demons across the veil. While she was by no means perfect, she felt better about herself than she did a year ago. She was more sure of herself, and her ability to keep the fingers of the demons at bay.
Aurora would not be kept in a cage of iron and stone, but of strength and willpower. She would be collared, but it would be her hands that held the keys, no one elses.
The Qunari flowed out of the way of the punch, spinning sideways and aiming an open-handed strike for the mage's shoulder. "Where are your feet?" she asked rhetorically. "Keep your foundation firm, and none shall move you without your consent." As with most things Amalia said in this context, there was a mental meaning as well as a straightforward comment about physicality. This was her role; to deliver such reminders in a way that integrated them; body, mind, and soul, to be all the more effective and permanently remembered.
"But I must be flexible too, so I can bend without breaking. Rooted, but yielding," Aurora agreed with an addendum, and instead of merely ducking out of the way of the blow, she shifted her feet and followed Amalia's spin, deflecting the blow with her forearm. Her elbow never ventured far from her centerline, and she retained her balance throughout and ended up throwing her own closed fist strike at her belly. She was not a terrible student, and she learned the lessons quickly, committing them to heart, but she also came to her own conclusions. Simply memorizing what Amalia taught her was useless. She'd just be reciting words. She needed to learn, understand, and then make it hers. She needed to come up with her own way.
There was a gentle flicker of amusement in Amalia's eyes, and her lips curled up at one corner. It was not the sort of condescending thing one feels at the antics of a fool (she did not find fools amusing, after all), but rather the small satisfaction of a quandary finally making sense, or perhaps what gardeners felt with the first opening of petals in spring. "You've been thinking," she said simply, avoiding the blow headed for her midsection by dropping into a sweep, arcing her legs out to try and entangle them with Aurora's. It was a compliment, coming from the Qunari, though of course Amalia's compliments hardly ever sounded like them. More like observations, as it was rather difficult to find an instance in which she altered her tone from the faintly-disapporving neutrality her people seemed inclined towards.
Sometimes, she wondered if in communicating with others, the Qunari should start prefacing their sentences with their intent, as most people seemed incapable of the subtlety required to properly read into the words. Sarcasm: that sounds like a useful way to spend our words, speaking to those who will refuse to understand anyway. Still, at least the people she actually cared to converse with seemed to take her meaning mostly correctly in the majority of cases. And yet the most recent notable backfiring of this generality still bothered her.
"I needed to. I won't just suddenly have an epiphany and understand everything," Aurora answered. As Amalia dropped into her sweep, Aurora picked her foot up and batted her entangling legs away with her heel, and spun out of Amalia's front, instead coming in from an angle. "I need to think to understand," She said. As she did, her stance changed from the open palms to closed fists, one in front of the other. As she rushed Amalia, she launched a straight blast of fists, a barrage of quick rapid fire punches intended to overwhelm, stepping inside the guard all the while. The movement was clean and fluid, each punch rotating out for another, though her elbows kept close to her centerline. The straight blast was aimed downward at Amalia's chest. If Amalia didn't dodge or counter, then the flurry would rain down on her-- Aurora kept her strength in check just in the off-chance that Amalia wouldn't dodge.
Each of these, Amalia caught in a palm and delfected to the side, save the last, which she dodged instead, bending over backwards until her hands touched the ground behind her, kicking herself upwards into a deft flip, which reset the distance between them. Rather than retaliate, however, she remained still, the birdlike tilt to her head an indication that she was interested in hearing the rest uninterrupted.
"A thinking mind is a strong one. A strong mind is both a free one and a chained one," Aurora smiled. Chains of her own creation, one that she was free to create and lock herself. Aurora did catch the compliment however, she'd come to understand Amalia in the passing months. Though much of the woman was still a mystery, she'd begun to catch the smaller quirks of her person. The hidden compliments, the instances of warmth, to anyone else they might simply filter by.
"Then your thinking serves you well," Amalia replied with a nod. "Stretch to cool down, and tell me of your dreams." Taking her own advice, she moved into several flowing exercises designed to prevent muscles from cramping or locking up at inopportune moments, several of which she'd taught to Aurora as well. It was important to condition the whole body, and not simply the parts that did the attacking. Likewise, the opportunity could easily be taken to condition one's mind, to make oneself aware of the things that were still troublesome, and think through what the possible solutions to those troubles might be. For an ordinary person, this was important. For a mage like Imekari, Amalia suspected it may very well prove vital.
As instructed, Aurora stepped out of her stance and into the cooldown exercises, though she seemed less then enthused about them. It wasn't that she didn't see the value of easing her muscles into a resting state, she just found them to be immensely boring. She hated stretching. She did them without complaint however, as an admonishing remark from Amalia right now would probably spoil the whole session. When Amalia questioned her about her dreams, she was quiet as she thought. She had dreams, yes. Demons and such were the most prolific of them, but at this point they were to be expected. She figured Amalia was asking for something different. There were a couple of dreams between the usual ones.
She sighed as she opened her mouth to talk. "Aside from the normal ones, I dream of home, mostly. Back in Bastion, not the Circle-- that never was home. Sometimes I dream of my family, just sitting around, talking, and laughing. Sometimes even the horizon as the sun set. Sometimes I wish it could all go back to the way it was, you know? Before I was taken to the Circle," but it never would return back to normal. She'd always be a mage, no matter how much she wished otherwise-- even if she did wish otherwise. "It's been six-seven years the last time I even saw my family..." She said somberly.
"What stops you from making it so?" Amalia asked. It was not a derisive question, merely an honest query. "Is avoiding Templars in Antiva so much more difficult than avoiding Templars here?" As she saw it, if this was a time in Aurora's life that was impossible to return to (as most past times were), then it was simply another obstacle to be overcome. If, on the other hand, there might be a way to solve the problem without simply learning to avoid it, this was preferable. Amalia understood little of connection by blood; for the Qunari, your family was always the one you made, and never the one that you were born into. But this was not the case elewhere, she knew.
It wasn't that she hadn't thought about it before. Just uproot herself and leave for Bastion one day. In the years since her break from the Antivan Circle, Aurora had gotten good at staying below the notice of the Templars. It wouldn't take much for her to hope a boat and sail her way back home. The ability to go back home was in her hand. But the motivation was something else entirely. "I've thought about it you know?" she said. She thought about a lot of things. "Just leave and go back. I've thought about it a lot," She said, but there was something else that kept her chained in Kirkwall.
"It's just... It'd be too painful. I've changed. They've changed. They've probably moved on. Besides, it'd be too painful. Like ripping open old wounds, nothing good would come from it," She said, finishing up her stretches and taking a seat on the ground. "I don't even know if they live in the same house, they could've moved while I've been away. Even if they were there, then I don't know if I'd be able to leave it again. If the Templars found me again, then I'd just have to leave them again. It's easier this way, for me and them," That didn't make the pill any less bitter to swallow. It sounded like a lot of complaining to her, and she knew it. But she just didn't think she was strong enough for that.
Not now at least. There was always the possibility of finding them one day. She would never give up that hope, of seeing the Antivan horizon again, of seeing her familiy. She wasn't going to give up that dream. She'd have to become stronger, but she was getting stronger day by day... "One day though. I will find them again. It might not be soon, but one day when I'm stronger, I will find them," With that admission a sure smile crossed her lips. "How are your dreams Amalia?" She asked, turning the question on her.
"Hmph," the Qunari replied, dexterously untwisting herself from what appeared to be some kind of pretzel formation. "I," she replied, "am the instructor here, and not the pupil." This was not an arrangment in which they gave and took the same things. Nevertheless, she deigned to answer the question, after a fashion. "My dreams are as they have always been. I do not often change." Settling herself into a crosslegged position across from Aurora, she considered the implications of the other woman's statements.
"Easy and right are rarely correleated. But we do well to understand our limitations, and work to expand them." It sounded like a decent enough plan to her, if it was indeed this which Aurora wanted.
"It's something to think on and work towards," She agreed, laying back. Aurora was sad that she didn't manage to pry much more out of Amalia's dreams, but it wasn't entirely unexpected. She was still a mystery, after all, and just as difficult to figure out as a safe lock. Still, points for trying. "Easy and right, huh? If only. But then I guess that wouldn't make the successes all that sweeter," She smiled. Though with that bit of thought out of the way, Aurora pulled herself upright and cradled her hands in her lap.
"So what's my next lesson?"