Savages and Purists

Chapter 1

I knew it was only a matter of time before Sira found me.

Kunava is a rather obvious place to hide.

Dark, dingy, muddy rooms crammed up together in the middle of nowhere... this is the place to hide.

She throws a couple of knives at me, and in turn, I duck, slide across the round table to avoid the next one, and pick up my silverware tray (thank God for forged flatware) that's how I block the weapon and with that, I know she is out. Frustrated, she picks up a wooden chair and hurls it at me.

Brooke Stanes certainly knows how to pick them.

Bold, with a quiet, fury temper - Sira is Brooke Stanes's favorite warrior.

She gives sweat, bones, and blood to her every mission. Also a nice mixture of scary facial expressions, all the reasons why she had sent her.

I fight back.

Backed up against a wall, my heart sinks to my stomach. I try to reach out for a weapon - anything... but Sira's grip is strong as she digs into my neck making me succumb to the venom in her glare.

"You're going to have to kill me..." I warn her hoarsely.

The staunch warrioress takes the cue and softens her grip a little. Taking heed, I catch my breath.

"I've got things to do Frankie, rather than chasing after you in the trenches of Pyrenees."

"Then stop."

"You and I both know it isn't that simple."

Observing a waver in her focus, I slip two heavy blows and watch as she falls two steps back. This creates enough space for a high kick which I land successfully and have her face down.

An ephemeral moment of victory.

"I think you have had enough fun. Time to take you home."

I get knocked out after three rounds.

Once she completes her mission, Sira takes me back to the Fleur Panache headquarters.

Carrying me over one arm into the dim-lit tribunal, she tosses me to the ground in front of the panjandrums.

Madame Brooke aka Brooke Stanes, Madame Cornelius, and Madame Sage peep at me from their high chairs.

"Get her out of here." Madame Brooke commands turning away.

Sira is already gone.
However, Amelia - the wench, takes it upon herself... gladly, dragging me by the hair.

*****

I rise the next morning... moaning. The beating I took from Sira yesterday is still in full effect.

Maybe sitting in the hot, steamy, and rather, lush Fleur Panache tub, for an hour, might soak my wounds away.

...1 hour later...

I guess not.

Despite braving pain from body parts I never knew existed the Fleur Panache morning routine awaits.

Meditation.
Stretches.
Senpai.
Well. Half of it.

It has been so long since I performed a kata, that I'm rusty... and toiling so I give up and return to my room.

My room is still the same, organized and understated.
We (Fleur Panache members) barely spend time in our rooms hence the inspiration for its design, basically stemming from a place of well-taught stoicism.

A single, well-made bed, drawers (for undergarments), a wardrobe (for our suits, yes, suits. That is all a Panachean wears).
Rarely do we have personal belongings that hold any sentiment. For example, my book collection consists of books I wrote. The books are more so a reminder of my claim to fame... the writing prodigy from the North. The reason Brooke Stanes discovered me in the first place. If the books weren't there, I probably wouldn't.