Thread: Koragnier [OPEN]

Lathen watched as this all happened and knew he was in physical pain weather he cared to admit it or not. She was surprised however to find tears rolling down his face. She was never good at emotions,but thought she should help him. After all he didn't deserve how he was being treated by the so called authority.

She walked over to him laying her hand on his shoulder. "Hey its alright I know how you fell, but hey I am a pretty good fighter if I may say so my self so I can train you and teach you all my tricks." She offered him a smile.

"I am Lathen by the way and, and you are?" She questioned actually wanting to get to know this guy. There was something about him that was familiar, but she could not put her finger on it, but she would stop until she figured it out.

Nikia smiled as she watched Ilia congratulate everyone. The praise the woman gave her only made that beautiful smile grow ever so slightly. She quickly moved back towards Ingrid as she thought about what they were going to do when they trained with the instructors, but decided not to interrupt her friends time with the one she wanted to get with, Rael.

Ingrid turned to Rael and wanted to spar with him, which made her even more certain that she didn't want to intrude. Her smile slowly faded into a more serious look as she started towards the training grounds. It was about that time to get out of there anyways and start up her own training. She quickly headed to the training ground wondering if the other First born were hot on her trail or if she was the only one actually headed there right now.

As she got to the training grounds, she saw Lathen throwing knives with two other males right next to her. She recognized one of them as Mikkel, the boy whose father got his hands chopped off on the bridge. To tell the truth, she felt sorry for Mikkel. He didn't want to be there. He honestly did not want to get involved with the ascendants. Unfortunately, he didn't have a choice. One day he was going to realize this.The other man was another collector. Maybe he was helping them train, but from the look of things, Lathen didn't need any help at all.

To train, she was going to need some weapons, preferably a bow and quiver of arrows. Weapons would be inside the armory, so she headed inside. As soon as she got to the armory, she looked for the bows and quivers of arrows, managing to find and grab them quickly. She then proceeded back outside to the training grounds.

As soon as she got to a target, she started firing without hesitation. It was as though she were actually in a battle, making every movement as precise as it needed to be and swift as though the non moving target were an actual enemy. It was one of the larger targets, she she had grabbed the sharper tipped arrows to see how deep they would penetrate it. Hopefully this shooting would be good enough to kill a demon. Hopefully if she put all her energy into this one thing, she would be able to succeed in a way that benefit her and everyone she hoped to protect. This was the thought process running through her head. It was as if nothing else around her mattered but hitting that target, because if that target was a real demon, she would do anything in her power to protect everyone else around her. Even if that meant killing it. If anything, being a first born would make her stronger, so the arrows should go right through the target. Her mind was so focused on her shooting, she would probably be unable to think of anything else. Maybe thats why she didn't know how to plan counterstrikes and attack formations like Rael, but at least she could help next time they had to do a full out sparring match with an ascendant.

"Mikkel," the boy said as he wiped his eyes, ashamed of his tears. "My name is Mikkel."

Drawing strength from saying his name, he could feel the stabbing pain of sorrow in the pit of his heart ebbing away and he sniffed until he could breathe easily again.

Looking up at Lathen, he was amazed to find that his pride had actually been stung by her offer to help, but he appreciated it all the same. Any drop of kindness would have been better than nothing at all, especially here in the Armasseum.

"I think I would like that," he said. "But it's really like I said, I've never even been in a fight before. How do you even start learning?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a girl approaching with a bow and arrow, taking shots at a target as soon as she was in position. Such surety of movement doubtless came from a lifetime of training, something that perhaps everyone but Mikkel possessed.

At the thought of being the weakest link among the Firstborn, he felt a stir of resentment against his parents. As much as he loved them, he had been left woefully unequipped for his fate, which he actually once believed that he could avoid.

No, Mikkel realized. They were the ones who believed they could keep me safe.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he had always known that was impossible. The collectors always found the Firstborn, no matter where or how they hid in the world. The question was: how did they do it?

So deep was he in thought that he did not notice other people approaching. Led by a handful of instructors, the Firstborn were filing out of the gate and into the training area.

At the front was the person who first spoke to Mikkel before entering the Armasseum, a blonde haired girl with an axe who was currently chattering to a boy with dark hair. When she saw the other girl with the bow, she waved her arm, shouting a greeting which broke Mikkel out of his reverie.

As both their eyes met, the girl stopped waving then said a word to the black haired boy before approaching.

"Hey you," she said. "You're that guy whose da got his hand chopped on the bridge, eh. Tough thing that, but it had to be done." Looking at Lathen, Ingrid continued, "Don't bother with this one, sister, he's a weakling for sure."

"D-don't call me that," Mikkel retaliated with a glare, for all that he thought of himself as such.

"Well it's true isn't it? You said as much yourself that you're afraid to die, right?"

When Mikkel looked away with his teeth clenched, Ingrid grinned triumphantly and said, "See? Weakling. Come on, Lathen, you'd be better off with us."

Rael walked with Ingrid towards the training ground, enjoying her company. She was a woman of many words and wasn't shy to shout them out to the crowd. Her brash attitude and open friendliness not unlike his own amused him.

But what fascinated him most was her unwavering confidence and guts. That girl had balls. It almost made him wonder quietly just what could make this girl finally break.

Reaching the training ground, his eyes were quick to catch onto the sight of his favorite Revivalist. Ingrid made a shout out in greeting to her friend and Rael took the extra seconds of her shifted attention to admire the view.

Nikia was... something else. From what he had seen, she was kind - almost to a fault. She had a calm soft aura around her - unlike anyone he had ever met before. He hadn't yet taken the time to properly get to know her. But from the first time his rejuvenated heart pulsated again in his chest, he knew the trapped organ fighting to break free from inside his healed ribcage now beat for a different name. And from that moment, he was adamant to keep her close.

It was a moment after that Ingrid said something to him before pulling him towards a couple standing nearby. It took him a second to place them. "Oh, hello there," he smiled. Hearing Ingrid's exchange with the other male, Rael regarded him silently.

Following their conversation, he couldn't help but be reminded of his own parents. On the last day before he was brought here, they spent their final night together sleeping outdoors under the stars. His father argued that they should spend their final night with him inside the warmth and security of their own four walls, but his mother stubbornly insisted that she never wanted him to ever look at the vast starlit sky without the memory of his family hunched together inside her hand knit wool blanket. The blanket had his brother's name stitched on it and Rael knew that her mother's inspiration was actually the final parting gift she had initially planned on giving to her firstborn son whom before she had never even would have shown an ounce of affection for.

And with that, Rael's eyes couldn't help but soften towards the indignant boy. "He does seem weak," he finally commented, a calculating eyebrow raised as the gears of his brain turned and twisted. Not a moment later, his face broke into a giddy smile as a formation clicked. "More room for improvements then!"

He grabbed the boy's hand and shook it vigorously before nodding enthusiastically. "You're just it. Welcome to the team!"

All of the Firstborn started filing out of the building onto the training ground. They were all finally here to practice their fighting skills. Ingrid was of course stealing the show and leading the pack with Rael at her side. She yelled out to her in greeting and Nikia nodded her head back in response before spinning and shooting the arrow again, hitting her mark on the head of the target.

To tell the truth just shooting at the target was starting to be boring, but she couldn't help it. It seemed she had an audience for a little bit too. She could feel his stare piercing right through her as if mesmerized by her movements. After the feeling left her, she turned to look at Rael who was now staring at Mikkel. His black hair glistened with the gleam of sunlight shining down on her. She could see his oversized ego through every inch of his frame and the very way he carried himself. Though her feelings told her differently, she scoffed at the very thought of him having feelings for her. Ingrid could have him. He could be all hers..... Or at least thats what she was telling herself.

Watching him, she couldn't help but move towards them. Her bow getting slung across her back as she walked towards them, the quiver on her hip, arrows filling it. She made it just in time as Rael decided to jump in at Mikkel's defense by taking his hand and saying that he needed to be part of the team now. Room for improvement would make it so that they could train him in the way that would help the team. She shrugged her shoulders at the thought.

"Hey Ingrid.... You know Rael has a point. Even if he is weak, we could always train him in the area we need help in with our team and he could help protect your man right now so we could keep his mind working. He is a very good strategist. Don't count him out just yet." Nikia winked at Mikkel to see if he could cheer up, her hands on her hips as she talked to them.

"What do you say? Besides, we still need someone to go and talk to the elementalist and try to see if he will join the group to make Rael's dream team a reality. He might just be the perfect person for that."

Seeing everyone side with Mikkel, Ingrid grew frustrated and paced restlessly around as she said with her axe pointed at the boy, "This is what will happen, we will spend all our time babysitting him until the day we fight our first demon, and then he will die because he will be too busy shitting himself to run or fight, and no one would find enough pieces of him to put back together."

Throwing her axe down on the ground, Ingrid turned towards everyone else and finished off by saying, "Hack him up here with my axe and save us all the trouble, or be fools. There is no way anyone can turn that into a warrior in only a year and you will only waste time trying."

For a while, Mikkel could only rock back and forth on his heels as though each of Ingrid's words had struck like a physical blow. He could vividly envision the image she had described and for a moment, Mikkel felt like a dead man already, but then he saw Ingrid turning her back on him and all his dread evaporated into resentment.

Don't you walk away from me, he thought as he said, timidly at first, "My name... is Mikkel."

Ingrid ignored him as she walked on.

"MY NAME IS MIKKEL!"

When the girl halted in her tracks, Mikkel drove on with all the anger he could muster, "Gods, what the hell is your problem! I know I'm weak, but you don't have to be such a gods damned, flaming bitch about it!"

Turning around, Ingrid's face darkened like the coming storm as she advanced menacingly towards Mikkel and replied, "What did you say to me?"

Though still angry, the boy's sense of self-preservation forced him to back away a few steps, but even so he remained defiant as he shouted, "I said you are a bitch, a gods damned, flaming one!"

Grabbing Mikkel by the front of his shirt, Ingrid came almost nose to nose with him as she stared him down. Mikkel squeezed his eyes shut and steeled himself in anticipation of a blow to the face or the gut, but it never came. Instead, Ingrid only breathed heavily for a moment then let him go as she said, "Good."

Mikkel blinked in confusion. "What?"

"Yeah, what are we all standing around for?" Ingrid said as she picked up her axe, grinning cheerfully as ever. "Let's get training already."

Lathen stood in shock seeing how Ingrid talked to him, but understood when she said good it was her way of trying to make him stronger or so she had hoped it was. She stood back and watched as everyone started to train and looked to see everyone's skills and their weaknesses if there was a pattern to where they mess up all the time or at least frequently. To her training was not just about being strong or being able to fight it was also about how well you can get to know you opponent in a few short seconds.

Lathen knew that she would not be killing any of them really soon, but she wanted to start to figure them out now so that she would have more time and hopefully give her a advantage when it came to the real thing. She watched as people spared and some people threw swords or shot bows. For the most part from what she saw everyone was really goo, but she did fond weaknesses in some people who left there sides unprotected or they didn't keep there eye on the target and got distracted by something else that was not important.

After watching everyone for a few more moments she went and picked a bow with arrows and started shooting at the same target she was throwing her knives at earlier. The bow was not her best, but she was still fairly good at it. After shooting 10 arrows she had 7 make it in the bulls eye and the rest just out side of it. She walked over and retrieved her arrows and starting shooting again. she repeated this a few more times.

"So, all that stuff you said... you didn't mean it?" Mikkel asked hopefully.

"Oh, I meant every word," Ingrid bluntly replied.

"Oh..."

Staring at his feet, Mikkel suddenly became crestfallen to know what Ingrid genuinely thought of him, but he was jolted into awareness when she clapped a hand on his shoulder and said in an utterly serious tone, "But I want you to prove me wrong, understand?"

One moment Mikkel was feeling like less than dirt, the next it was as though the sun was rising from his heart. This Ingrid girl was playing him like a damn fiddle! And he wasn't quite sure how to deal with that, so he settled with a nod.

"Good man," Ingrid said with a grin as she ruffled Mikkel's hair then returned to join Rael's side.

Fixing his hair with an annoyed expression, Mikkel turned to look for Lathen, who had wandered off to the archery range. Not wanting to bother her, he approached and stopped at a certain distance to watch.

When she collected her arrows for the third time and returned to her spot, Mikkel decided to step in and asked her, "Hey, is that offer still on the table?"

He saw stars.

Bright yellow stars, glittering in the periphery of his vision.

"Man, are you okay?"

Was he?
Wait - why wouldn't he be?

"You took quite a hit there."

Yes, that happened.

For the past half an hour Rael had spent his sweet time observing everyone. From the way they held their weapons, to every curve of their limbs as they released each arrow and swung their flail.

And, finally, he started training. His first choice of trial ; A punching bag stuffed with hay.

At first, everything seemed easy enough. He saw some guys hitting it and it swung easily to the other side. Surely, he could do that?

I mean, really, how was he to know that the bag was going to swing back and slam him right in the face with multiplied vengeance?

Everyone was looking at him awkwardly, not knowing what to say after his humiliating accident. So, he did was he does best.

Putting on his natural charm at full force, he pulled out his clumsy, loop-sided for display. "Anyone wants to apply for a personal coaching job?"

Lathen turned around to see Mikkel and smiled. "Now what offer would that be?" She questioned waiting for him to get all shy and say never mind. She stood and shot more arrows at her target until she heard everyone quiet down and she looked at the person laying on the ground and couldn't help, but let out a slight chuckle. "seems to me someone needs a trainer." she stated under her breath.

She stood there curious as to who was going to take him on and waited for someone to step forward and agree to help and as others started to go back to there training she assumed no one was going to help him. She grabbed a arrow and shot it at the bag next to his head to get his attention she nodded to him and motioned for him to come over. She figured if she was going to help Mikkel why not him as well.

For a moment, Ingrid felt embarrassed for Rael as she watched him lose to a stationary opponent. There was simply no way to surpass such a dazzling example of failure, but then again it was no worse than any other rookie mistake ever committed.

So he was more skilled with strategems than actual combat, some men were like that and it did not make Ingrid lose any amount of respect for him. Since he was trying though, he might as well learned how to do it right. Performing a basic strike that is.

"You're over-committing on your attack," Ingrid said as she held her hand towards Rael to help pick him up. "It makes you unbalanced and weak to a counter, and you should always expect a counter... although, I don't think that's something to worry about when fighting a demon."

Looking around, Ingrid was unsure how helpful it was to be shooting arrows at a target range or practicing strikes on a training dummy. This was simple foot soldier level basic training.

Asides from the combat session with the Ascendant, which the head instructor promised to be a regular occurrence, there was not much to help prepare the Firstborn for a battle with the supposedly gargantuan demons.

"Don't you think it's strange to be doing this sort of training?" Ingrid asked as she fiddled with her axe. "I mean, this is the sort of thing you do when trying to become a guardsman."

~~~

more later