Setting
- 46 posts here • Page 2 of 2 • 1, 2
Flashes of memories played in her mind, of darker times, of being on the edge of death, but she exhaled and let them drift away on the wind. They might come freely, but as long as your calm remained, they would leave freely too, and she liked it that way. These things were best left unchained, lest they chain her in return.
Despite the threat the swords posed, she could not look away from the woman. It was not quite her beauty -although that was part of it too, as she was as beautiful as the flowers surrounding her, despite the tousled hair and clothes that spoke of training.-
It was hard to put to words what kept pulling her eyes there, and in the end she just gave up trying to avert them, and drank in the sight like a person who had been thirsting their entire life, but not found what they were looking for until that very moment.
Fang Ling blushed slightly at the comparisons her mind came up with, but exhaled once more, again letting go of these feelings of embarrassment. It was truth, was it not? And in her heart she knew that despite the longing nature of the words, she held no romantic feelings for the woman. Admiration, maybe? Curiosity, certainly. But Love, no.
But maybe it was time she should go.
She pulled her knees up, laid her crossed arms on them, and rested her head on to of her arms.
"Just a little longer though..." she murmured to herself.
She stepped away drew both one lower and one held high. Both blades at a ready she then with surprising agility swung and slashed through two bamboo poles. For a few lingering seconds they stay upright, before falling to the floor.
Pausing, she one more performed this feat, her feet moving in almost a dance, one sword held up, the other low, switching as two more fell down
Bowing she once more sheathed the blades as she spoke "Swordsmanship, or at least my style, is as much a dance as it is a skill. You coordinate your feet in the music of the air, following it while cutting through with quick slashes and utmost precision. A true dancer does not waste time with showing off with spectacular feats, no that is arrogant. A true dancer, is quick, precise and always performs killing blows except when training others. If you dance sloppily your emotion can win out, but with talent you learn self-control and learn how to be deadly and precise. Brutality is wrong and can dull the blade, you aim and dance, while listening to the singing of the whole thing. If one note is wrong you will find yourself unable to sing anymore. Thus why you must dance and sing, but be graceful."
And...
Wait... Now that she looked close, wasn't the design of these swords a bit familiar?
Ś̵̛͜h҉̛̕͡e҉̵̶͜ ͜q͏̴u̡͠i̷̛͟ę͝͝ţ̢͘͝l̨y̢͠ ̡̛̀͘o̵̡̧͡b̕͟s̶͘͟e̷̢̢҉̢ŗ̡̨͘v̵̴͝e̕͜͏͘s҉̸̕ ̷͢a̧҉̸͝ş͜͟ ̢a̕͡ ̧̛m̵̢̀́͢a͘҉͟͠͠ń̶̕͟ ̵͠p̢̡͘͠r̛o̸͝u̸̧̕͞d̸̷͡͝͝ĺ̷̀͜y͝ ̸̵͜s͏́͘͠h̕͠o̴̶͢͞ẁ̡͜͞s̢͜͡ ̢͏̀͡͞t͏҉́w̵̧̕͟o̷̕͘͞ ̴̶s̡͜w҉̛o̧͢͢͠͏r̛҉d͢͏̴̢s̵̵̢̀͠ ̵̴̢̀͞t͝҉̶̵̨o̷̕͞͝ ̸͡a҉̷́͘ ̵̢͢͝͡s͞͡m̶̀͜͡a̷͘͜͟l͟͝ļ̀͘ ̷͡c̵҉̶̛̕h̨͟͞͞͞ì̡͢͝l͏͟ḑ̷̧
She blinked, and the recognition was gone, replaced by a growing confusion. How strange, she could have sworn... No. It must have been her imagination. Wait... What had she been thinking about again?
...loved this place, in fact the whole of Tiānshì City is so full of the old ways it is entirely welcoming and truly comforting. I know little of those times as I unfortunately saw destruction of them rather than living through them..
Eh, destruction? But the culture here is so pretty? And surely, news of such an atrocity would have been all around town.
She relaxed slightly as she listened to the woman, despite the sad topic. However, she tensed again when the blades were drawn. Even when not aimed at her, the live swords brought back unpleasant memories.
...
Exhale...
That seemed to be better. It wasn't quiet as effective as when she had been merely observing from afar, but she had always had trouble maintaining that state when something unexpected happened, so it was nothing new.
Nevertheless, the swordsmanship of the woman seemed different from the ones she had seen before, even since coming to this place. In the other world it had just been a tool of brutality. Here, wielding it had been upgraded to having an extension of oneself, and even being an art. But even then it was nowhere near as refined as what she currently saw.
...
Be graceful, eh?
"That's amazing", she said softly.
She searched finding a discarded wooden sword, likely used to train, she gently bent down and handed to the girl, "Now try hit me. I promise nothing will happen. I just wish to show you how the dance need not be fatal. I can do one other thing and thus cause a surrender of their confidence." she beamed her smile so warm yet a sadness echoed in her eyes. No doubt she had been through a great deal but she radiated discipline and absolute confidence. Even when swords were sheathed she moved with surprising speed, and her walk was not male or female-like, but as she said like a dance, an alluring seductive dance, she played minds games and physical games. Everything about her exuded that confidence, and when she spoke she never once spoke down to Fang.
She had kept the sword in a one handed grip in the manner she had seen others hold it, but her fingers were all wrong. The size and weight of the sword would also lean itself better to a two-hand swordstyle, she realized, but she knew even less about what the right grip for that would be.
She took a stance. Her feet where slightly less than shoulder width apart. Her left foot was slightly forward, as that side was the hand she was holding her sword with. She was stiff as a board however, neither standing on the balls of her feet, or with her knees bend.
She might have learned from example, but none of her 'teachers' so far had been exemplary themselves, which caused the mistakes the bright girl made.
As seconds passed into minutes, Fang Ling couldn't take the tension anymore. Although still wary of the opponent, she charged at her.
Nonetheless if that did not work she would use the second blade that performed the feint to then cut across and try knock it from the otherse. The combination of both of these would likely cause the wooden sword to be knocked from the hands.
Once it ended in whatever way she disarmed the girl she would bow, before checking if she had inflicted any wounds, having sheathed both blades again, "The mistake you made was a simple one, but also dangerous if I had been a true threat. You charged and thus let emotion into your action. Emotions cloud the mind in a fight like this, charging you make it far easier to predict and thus I can easily knock the blade out. When you fight with a blade one on one, never charge, treat it like I said like a dance. Your stance is clumsy but not fatal nor was your grip. I do note you used your weaker hand though, why is that?"
After Fang Ling had bowed back in response and had been checked, the woman gave her verdict.
Fang Ling protested.
"It's not like any other course of action I was capable of would have led to success. I could have tried some fancy footwork, but I would have likely tripped over my own feet instead. I ONLY know how to charge in, as that is the only way of swordplay I have seen intimately in combat, albeit used against me. People generally don't let orphans watch them as they train, unless they're using them as moving target practice."
Granted, that hadn't happened since she was dropped off in this world, but the 'generally not letting a random orphan watch' remained the same.
Fang Ling stopped, realized she was whining. She was also relucant to continue to answer the woman's last question, but she nevertheless answered. Slightly nervous as her next words came out of her mouth, afraid of the reaction.
"Because it's not my weaker hand. I mean, for some reason using my left hand has always come easier, and while I'm training to do everything with my right hand instead, as is proper, I didn't think I could pull it off in this case. Stick to your strengths and all that."
Again she tried to think how to explain this clearly, "Everyone assumes great arcs or generally hard slashes are effective, but in reality, they are slow and cumbersome, you may be charge quick but your sword is less in your control. You are letting your own momentum control yourself. Whereas waiting and strafing you keep yourself firmly in control and thus the blade becomes an extension of yourself."
Gently she smiled, "I am not trying to be harsh, I am merely trying to make you understand that there is a grace to all this. Brutality in your swipes and slashes weaken you and make you far easier to hit. As I have said if I was opponent, I would have easily disarmed you then slit your throat, and that would have been over. You don't rush, you swim through the air, dancing while watching them. In time you will learn to see weaknesses in their stance or how they grip blade. I noted your weak grip and also how your stance was sloppy thus I figured disarming you was best approach." she added, "Also the second blade was not my advantage, fighting with two weapons is far harder than fighting with one. Just because I have two swords does not mean my victory was conclusive."
After she had done being a tutor her expression softened, "You obviously been through a great deal, but understand what I tell you today is to help you in future. I don't train those except who I deem worthy of my attention. You have shown with your tenacious nature you are worthy of interest."
That 'tripping over her own feet' had been a very real possibility after all, and she didn't know if the woman would have managed to predict as much from the movements leading up to it. No, an easily readable attack was what she had chosen, so that the chance that she would stumble into a blade would lessen.
She didn't word this though, not wanting to be seen as a coward.
Normally she wouldn't even have made the first move anyway, but it almost felt like something had compelled her to do so. Was it the same thing that drew her to the woman? That, she did not know, and didn't dare guess, although she briefly entertained the notion this was part of the 'destiny' the old man spoke of. She wasn't that presumptuous though, and quickly discarded the thought.
The woman's expression had softened as she continued talking.
Was Fang Ling worthy of her attention? Fang Ling herself didn't think so.
And... Well... This was harder to word, but did she want that attention?
This thought came despite her strange attraction to the woman, as she didn't think she would ever feel safe holding a sword.
She was conflicted, and it clearly showed on her face.
Pausing her composure appeared fragile, even sad, "I left her promising to come back, but as I turned back I saw soldiers coming, I tried to yell and get her attention, but she merely assumed I was waving..." a long hopeless sigh escaped her lips, "I ran back desperate to get help, but when I finally roused everyone attention and they found her... she had been raped to death... my bestfriend... probably I even felt for in strange ways... my rage grew, my anger peaked and I told my parents I would learn." tears fell from her gentle eyes as she raised her hand to wipe them, "My parents trained me so hard and so aggressively, I forgot my rage, I forgot my hate... and eventually I forgot about Mei... Until now, but why am I telling you this? Simply because those who don't think themselves worthy to learn or deserving are usually those who truly deserve it... Because they will never succumb to arrogance and remain humble in the dance."
In the very distance there was a dull roar, if anyone looked out and to the sky they would see many trails of white streaking across the sky, going up into the distance and some stretching out into the horizon.
Something was happening.
Her thoughts were going in circles. In the end, she haltingly began to talk.
"I don't think I was born on this world", she confessed, "Things were different, less advanced back home. Even civility was a commodity shared only amongst the upper and middle layers. I must have known kindness at some time -There's no way I would have survived my earliest childhood without it-, but it's not something I can remember. I was always just 'that filthy orphan' or 'that little rat'.
I can't understand the feeling of losing your childhood, as I'm not sure if I ever had one to begin with. There were no friends, just predator, prey and tentative ally. And I hated it. I hated being looked down upon, I hated not having anything. I hated envying them. I hated the scars they gave me, simply for existing.
Put most simply, everything hated me, and I hated the world in return.
I may not be there anymore and I may have changed my outlook because of that, but some things stay she same.
The scars on my body and psyche remain."
She looked up at the woman with a mournful expression and said,
"I don't think I will ever be able to get over my fear of swords."
Now was a good time as she became aware of her speaking. And thus Valeria listened being sure to appear attentive despite zoning out earlier, "Where you born matters little child in the scheme of things. You are here now, as am I. I never imagined I would return to a city, but here I am. Thus we both must make the best of our situation, correct?" she asked before continuing, "Hate is a weakness don't succumb to that darkness, instead move on. You may have hated the world, but you are being given a chance to finally act and show they were wrong to treat you as such."
Gently she took the girl's hand if she would allow before asking, "What is your name child? I am Valeria Tseng and I was born in turmoil and strife. I will never likely bear children and you will never likely return to where you were born. I see a unique chance, and chance for you to overcome the fear. I adopt you as my daughter and teach you in the ways of the blade as well as discipline and respect. I will help you beat back the darkness and even show you secrets I usually don't utter..." pausing she stared with that tender grin, "I was for a long time a hermit, but after coming here... and being around people I realized how much I missed them... I even realized I was lonely and was scared of my skill being forever lost... What say you? Will you be my daughter and in return I'll go to your orphanage and give them the amount required."
"Yes!", was her resounding answer to the woman's last question.
She grasped the woman's hand, and marveled at the warmth against her skin.
"Ah... I... Also, my name is Fang Ling...", she tacked on, slightly awkward.
It did seem that Valeria was little excited about all this, and though much older, there was an innocence about her showing. Of course she knew there would be responsibility but right now she was overjoyed at prospect of being a Mother if not her own blood, just to have someone to teach and continue her legacy.
Had she been more alert, she would have frowned slightly about Valeria's choice of words about appearing beautiful. Or rather, the insinuation that the style Fang Ling was currently wearing wasn't beautiful. Admittedly, the clothes she was wearing at the moment were cheap, but they were hers and she did like the style, if not the quality.
Fang managed to hold on to the poles she was given. She also managed to not visibly wince at the thought of having her own swords.
"M...", the title was on the tip of her tongue, but she decided against it, feeling slightly embarassed. "...mm...". hastily correcting it into a non-commital sound.
"Should we put this away first before going to the orphanage?"
As she continued once more tidying she went on speaking while working, "Fang, after that I shall pay the cost for your freedom so to speak and then I shall show you my house. It's little outside the city being I am not overly fond of loud places, but promise it is not far." there was a bouyance to her step, a clear delight and skip. It was actually adorable how much this whole thing was bringing her elation. Nonetheless she continued carefully cleaning the path and moving the dummies away to bring out later. No doubt, Fang was a million different emotions and whereas Valeria was normally picture of calm, here she was like a giddy school girl.
"Fang, you will love my place, it breathtaking... to think... a kid... me..." a ghost of smile crept on her lips as she finished, "So firstly to Market where you can get your new allowance and after to blacksmith before going to orphanage to free you. Then before leaving Tiānshì City we shall pick up your blades and get new bedding, lots to do. But the future is so bright Fang, so truly bright. My legacy will live on!"
Setting
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I'm sorry, I missed your post. On top of that I'm moving and didn't really have think to check the thread itself until now...
by ElusiveAuthor -
And I'm tired, as you can probably notice from my shitty grammar.
by ElusiveAuthor
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And then, once more, it came to swords. She listened to the woman finish first though, before asking her question.
"Wouldn't it be better to wait with the visit to the blacksmith until later?", she enquired. "There are many different styles of blades and swordplay involved with them, aren't there? I don't think I would be able to make an informed choice..."
Considering she looked at the girl, "There is another issue. Remember dear I live outside the city. Logistically makes more sense to get the blades now, at least suitable sword or swords for you, rather than travel solely to city to do this." she beamed and suddenly wraped Fang in Motherly embrace, "Trust me dear." she whispered stroking the girl's hair, combing her hands through the rebellious locks.
Eh. This wet feeling... Are these tears?
Was she...?
In the end Fang Ling couldn't help but cry.
For the kindness Ms. Tseng showed her
For the chance this woman gave to her
For the girl she used to be before this meeting, knowing what she was missing, but unable to grasp its full extent.
Evidently Fang may realize just how truly lonely the woman had been and just how this change in her life was just beyond unexpected but in a way that brought happiness and joy.
- 46 posts here • Page 2 of 2 • 1, 2