The Chimera

Chapter Twenty-Four: Comings and Goings

For all her fighting prowess, Marikit isn't a very good teacher.

"Grab whatever you can and move as fast as possible," she says, when asked for advice. She's met with blank stares, all waiting for any further elucidation.

"Maybe a demonstration would help," Edeline suggests.

They're lucky the winter midmorning isn't as cold as it could be, but it's still shocking to Jasper to see Marikit tug off her overcoat before her sparring demonstration with Tai. Without the covering of the large coats she usually wears, the wiry strength in her arms becomes more apparent.

Tai, as aloof as ever, waits for her on the other side of the open yard. Bordering the bare lawn, under a gray expanse of sky, the rose garden languishes in its seasonal barrenness. The few flowers that do bloom in the cold are bright and white, reminding Jasper uncomfortably of the very specters they're now training themselves to defend against.

In the citadel armory, discovered weeks ago but largely left untouched until then, they had unearthed a pile of wooden weapons, presumably to use in practice. Now, Marikit and Tai face one another amid their crowd of spectators, each with a long wooden knife in hand.

Edeline, officiating, signals for them to begin.

Jasper knows-- and this cannot be stressed enough-- quite literally nothing about combat.

Despite this, even he's able to pick out the differences between Tai and Marikit's styles. Tai, trained by his famed swordswoman of a mother, is clearly out of his depth from the beginning. Not only are they using makeshift knives instead of his longer weapons of choice, but he must have never seen Marikit fight before, because he's evidently taken by surprise.

As soon as their bout begins, she lunges forward. Jasper can't keep track of her footwork as she slashes and hacks at Tai's poised defense. His posture is (from what little Jasper can tell) impeccable, and his movements are efficient, but Marikit is almost blindingly aggressive.

Inelegant, belligerent, and quicker than the darting leaps of a hare, she eventually gets in close enough to seize Tai's dominant wrist. Jasper watches, wide-eyed, as she uses her grip to twist his arm while yanking him downward.

Tai lands on the ground, dazed.

He may hate being beaten, but he can recognize when it happens. "All right," he says. "I yield. But those were hardly fair tactics."

Marikit, panting from exertion and accepting Dalmar's congratulatory pat on the back, tosses the wooden knife in her hands from side to side, at ease with it. "I don't know any other way. And if these specters don't have a 'fair tactics' rulebook to hold us to account with, then what does it matter?" She smiles, sharp and death-dealing. "I won."

As their eager watchers erupt in demanded explanations of Marikit's strategy ("I already told you: be quick and mean. You want to overwhelm, not look pretty and poised."), Tai angrily feels forgotten as he sweeps a hand through the brittle, near-frozen ground, searching for his dropped practice weapon.

"It's on your other side," a voice says, still hoarser than usual from his illness.

Skander gestures to Tai's left, where the wooden knife waits unassumingly on the pale, cracked grass.

No sooner has Tai picked it up than a hand appears in front him. He reluctantly accepts the offer and is pulled to his feet, letting go as soon as he's back upright. Skander watches him straighten his coat and adjust his hair, and Tai can't figure out whatever's in his eyes. Even while frowning, he's picturesque against a chilled landscape.

"You should go inside. You look awful," Tai tells him. Skander's face is shadowed and drawn, and he looks tired all the way through the tips of his hair. If ever there was anyone in need of broth and a rest, it's him, so why is he even out here?