None stand alone

[Armina Terrac]

Armina loved the early mornings in the training yard. There were so few men present, and those who were would not take notice of visitors. The sun had yet to truly breach the sky, casting the whole of the yard in a half shadow. The men who moved It reminded her of the early mornings before her father would arrive back from his business trips, exhausted from riding all night just trying to make it home.



The crisp morning air of the training yard swept over her like a gentle touch, barely stirring her thick dark green cloak. She looked out from under the fur-trimmed hood, scanning for a quiet place where she might practice in peace. Too often she felt hassled by the recruits here who thought themselves ready to become Gai’dan. She also didn’t need her fellow sisters pestering her about finding a warder.



When she finally found a spot she sat down with her sword. While the total concentration of blademasters eluded her, she found the practice of focusing her emotions early in the morning calming. As she was finishing her morning focuses she was approached by Kaela. She was trailed by her new warder, Eagan, a fresh-caught Illianier with a nasty scar over his right eye. According to Kaela, he was far less of a grouch than his constant expression would suggest.



“Good Morning Sister!” Kalea was always cheery, even at funerals for others, she seemed to manage to find a light to shine on a situation. “Have you come to observe the Yard’s newest prospects?”



Armina didn’t respond, instead just shooting a sideways glare. Kalea was a good friend, but for years she had tried to convince Armina to give up her chase. Done out of love no doubt, but annoying at the best of times. Kalea took the hint and didn’t bring it up again, instead looking out over the yard herself. The two sat in silence for a while with Eagan watching over the trainee’s, no doubt himself wondering who might be taking a fancloth cloak soon. After a few minutes, Kalea got up and moved off, leaving Armina to her peace and quiet. It didn’t last.



“Your sister is right you know, Armina Sedai.”



Armina got up from her meditation to turn and face the Yardmaster, acknowledging his presence with a nod. He was one of the few around here who usually wouldn’t pester her about looking for a warder. She did not know Avyanna’s warder that well, but she knew he respected her choices and had allowed her to train some of the novices in the art of swordplay.



“No warrior can fight alone forever, Armina Sedai.” She denied him any kind of response. Yet the words were somehow cutting. Perhaps because they were so close to what she’d heard said time and again in the borderlands. Soldiers had often reminded their fellows that no man stood alone against the shadow, even her own love had once mentioned the phrase when she asked how he could stand to go north year after year.



“If you don’t want to choose one today, you might be at least interested to help me test some of the promising candidates.”



Armina considered the yardmaster’s request, it was true that sooner or later she should choose a warder. If nothing else it might help to have another pair of eyes in searching for her child. It might also help to take her mind off things and remind her what her mission was supposed to be. She had sworn herself to the green so that she could defend those who suffered at the hands of the shadow. They were the first sword and shield against the shadow, and she must be ready to act as such.



“Very well.”



Armina accompanied Galvin to where there were several trainees already readying themselves. All looked capable as warriors, but no warder could be simply capable. None of them looked very old, though she guessed that they were closer in age to more of the newer sisters than she would like to admit. The oldest was maybe his mid 20’s, were they sending such babes to die still?



“Alright lads, this morning you’ll be training with the help of Armina Sedai. It will be two on two, with the first group to knock the other out being our victor. Know this, you’re not here to impress the Aes Sedai. She will tell you in less kind words that she has no interest in any of you. She will throw everything she can and more to try to trip you up, and it’s your job to stand with your partner and make sure the changing conditions don’t see you knocked out. Now, take your places. Zolyas with Lyraes, Avaran with Meccion.”

[Lyraes Merrordren]

Waking in a cold sweat, Lyraes could feel the sun spilling into his bare and small chamber and the remnants of the dream lingered with him. The wolves, the rush of the hunt and the flickering images of the bears looming up out of the forest. The strange bond once again pulling him from his own skin by night, twisting him into a snarling mess revelling in the thrill of the hunt. In the pack. Blinking the sleep from his eyes Lyraes pushed himself up out of his bed and shoving the hair from his face with a groan, he did not have time to wash nor did he have time to eat. His eyes felt heavy with the weight of the restless night, he could feel the sweat trickling down over his spine as he pulled his shirt over his head with his breath rising in small coils through the cold air. He leaned down and grabbed his trousers pulling them on, strapping his belt and sword around his waist, grabbing his cloak and with all of that done he practically sprinted from his chambers to the training field.

He stumbled out onto the path and practically skidded into sight of the other Warder trainees, and likely the Yardmaster though he appeared to be otherwise occupied with the Aes Sedai, slowing to a brisk walk as he joined his peers just in time for the brief. He pulled his cloak around his shoulders, the grey fabric settling over him as the other young Warders shuffled uneasily in the presence of the full Sister, especially when it became apparent that not only would she be observing their training but that the Aes Sedai, a skilled fighter in her own right, would be a part of torturing them. He chose instead to focus upon the presence of the Wolves in the back of his mind, feeling another still familiar presence lingering at the periphery of his mind, as his hand came to rest upon the pommel of his blade. Group exercises were alway gruelling and often pushed one fighter or another to their limit, the weakest link often putting more pressure upon the most skilled, and pairs were no exception to the rule.

At least Zolyas was a skilled fighter, albeit one who wielded two blades.

Without showing any of his concerns or emotions Lyraes stepped away from the crowd sweeping his hair back out his face once more and pushing his cloak back over his right shoulder, pushing his toe into the dirt watching Zolyas carefully, and the Sister who lingered on the other side of the crowd “Yes Yardmaster,” his words were soft as he acknowledged the command and pulled forth his longsword, the steel whispering against leather “Good morning Zolyas, I hope you’re ready for how much this is inevitably going to hurt if the Aes Sedai is helping...” and he smiled half-heartedly.

[Zolyas Lamaera]

As Zolyas stepped into the training yard, he took a deep breath. The winters in Tar Valon were not as cold as the Borderlands, but it was still bracing and pleasant to one who enjoyed the cold air. He looked around the yard in wonder thinking how it had been a year since he first set out from Jakanda. So much had happened since then, yet at the same time it had passed quickly. The weekly flow of drills, sparring, exercises, and even the classes on strategy and tactics had created a comforting routine for him in the months since his arrival. He had been steadily improving throughout, and today he had been invited to train with some of the more advanced students. It was an honor, though when he had said as much, Galvin Gaidin had laughed and said they would see how honored he felt after the lesson.


As he walked over to place his swords on the weapon rack and pick up his training swords, he saw an Aes Sedai speaking to Galvin Gaidin. That was not unusual in itself, many Aes Sedai spoke to the Yardmaster on occasion. What was unusual was the sword at her hip. It was partially concealed by her cloak but it was definitely there. Very few Aes Sedai carried weapons of any kind, and he was sure he hadn’t seen this particular Aes Sedai in the yard before. As he walked over to stand with the other trainees, she joined the Yardmaster in front of them.


“Alright lads, this morning you’ll be training with the help of Armina Sedai. It will be two on two, with the first group to knock the other out being our victor. Know this, you’re not here to impress the Aes Sedai. She will tell you in less kind words that she has no interest in any of you. She will throw everything she can and more to try to trip you up, and it’s your job to stand with your partner and make sure the changing conditions don’t see you knocked out. Now, take your places. Zolyas with Lyraes, Avaran with Meccion.”


Now things were making sense. An Aes Sedai trained with a sword would know exactly how to trip up trainees with the One Power. It was a good training strategy, and one Zolyas probably should have expected. The lessons for the advanced students are no joke. Let’s just hope I don’t embarrass myself.



As he approached Lyraes, he almost stumbled. Lyraes’ eyes were shining gold, just like his. He had seen the man in the yard before, but had never gotten a good look at his face. A Wolfbrother and a Malkieri. I couldn’t have asked for a better partner. Malkieri swordsmanship was legendary, and everyone in the Borderlands knew exactly how good they were. By now, Zolyas had been training here long enough to have adapted to being partnered with someone using one blade. It had been a big adjustment, but a necessary one, since there were very few Arafellan trainees at the Tower.


“Good morning Zolyas, I hope you’re ready for how much this is inevitably going to hurt if the Aes Sedai is helping...”


“Good morning Lyraes. I hope so too. I’ve never had to contend with the One Power in combat.”


As they turned to face their opponents, Zolyas did a quick mental rundown. Meccion sounds Tairen, Avaran could be from anywhere in the East or the South. Not Borderlanders, not Andoran or Cairhienian, and probably not from Illian. Most likely Southern fighting style on both. Almost certainly more used to fighting men than Shadowspawn. They should be at least familiar with how to combat Arafellan style even if they don’t do it often. Number one wildcard here is the Aes Sedai. But we’ll just have to adjust as things come.


He glanced over at the Aes Sedai and Yardmaster as the students took their ready stances. As expected there was nothing to be read from either of them. He looked over at Lyraes, nodded and said quietly “Let’s show these Southlanders how we do things in the Borderlands.” He knew the other man would hear him, but no one else would. He dropped into a neutral starting position, ready to guard with one sword or strike with the other. The anticipation mounted until they heard the Yardmaster’s call.


“BEGIN!”


Zolyas lunged forward with his right blade, and the dance began.

[Armina Terrac]

Armina watched as the four boys formed up into their two teams. Avaran and Meccion seemed confident in their own abilities at least, though neither moved with any special grace or power. The other two, Zolyas and Lyraes, seemed to know what it meant to carry a blade. They were respectful with their weapons, and Zolyas even carried two in the Arafelean style. Still, neither carried the grace of a practiced warrior. Skilled swordsmen perhaps, but not warriors yet. Not like her Corlan had been. She pushed the thought from her head, she had agreed to help the yardmaster prepare these men for anything, not to dwell on the past.

Watching as the four men set up she reached out to grasp the one power. It was still a sweet thing, but years of channeling had taught her how to ignore the temptation of power that flowed from within it. She reached out for two simple threads, fire and air. Simple things to manipulate, but so powerful when used carefully. She prepared herself carefully, a devious little plan forming in her mind.

The sweet power flowed through her as she reached out for a weave of air. It was held carefully on the edge of their impromptu arena. A simple thing, but simple would serve far better here than anything complex. She weaved the strands carefully, waiting for the men to seem locked into their fight before she acted with it.

When the first man moved to strike she unleashed a fierce gale across the group, not enough to throw anyone off their feet, but a distraction nonetheless. It sent her own cloak whipping about her, but she paid it no mind. The morning cold was easy enough to ignore, and since the wind was of her own creation she could make sure it didn’t ruffle her too much. She watched as the boys reacted to her little blast of cold air, would they even think anything of it? Would they realize it was her?

Would it distract them from the ice forming under their feet?

[Lyraes Merrordren]

The harsh gale hit as Zolyas lunged and Lyraes had to resist the urge to cover his face, to shelter himself from the biting wind. Instead he dropped his blade out behind him, to obscure his reach in a low ready, and began to mirror his partner’s manoeuvre. He would act as the counter weight, the balance of the strike, and thus guard his partner’s flank. He could feel Zolyas behind him despite not seeing him, then the Aes Sedai’s trap dawned upon him. He felt his boot began to lose purchase, stumbling.

In righting himself Lyraes had to abandon his plan, he could no longer shield Zolyas’ flank. Instead he found himself locked in the dance with one of their opponents, warily waiting for the return of the ice as his long sword flickered through the air. Parries rolling into strikes and vice versa even as he lost his footing again, the ice encroaching upon their dance even as they span, trading blows. Lyraes ducked under another blow using the ice to push himself back over to Zolyas. Even as he found his feet again he brought his blade up into a high guard once more, breathing heavily and watching his foe warily. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the yardmaster chuckling and the Aes Sedai, he could not help wondering if she was still channeling. What weaves she had tied off, of course their opponents had no interest in letting them breathe. Without thinking Lyraes parried a blow intended for Zolyas, easily batting the shorter blade aside and following with a short riposte.

‘Watch out for the ice, it is spreading’ he thought, loudly. His frustration was palpable even to the wolves as he parried another blow, pushing the strike aside with ease “Over and under, I go low you go high,” he hissed through gritted teeth to Zolyas, hoping that splitting their approach might offer them the advantage BEFORE the ice made the ground unpassable or the Aes Sedai came up with another trick to break them.

[Zolyas Lamaera]

Zolyas was in the flow now. Attack, dodge, block, counter, thrust, parry. The wooden practice swords clacked again and again. These two did know what they were doing, as he expected. But they weren't Borderlanders. And that made all the difference.

To punctuate his thought, he felt cold forming under his boots. He had largely ignored the wind, but ice was another story. He slipped slightly as he blocked a strike intended for Lyraes, and felt a sword whack his arm. Focus. Remember your training. They will struggle with this too.

And so they did. Avaran and Meccion were losing their footing. Zolyas adjusted into a wider stance, and moved his feet as little as possible. He lost some power on his strikes, but staying upright was more important.

He caught a glimpse of Lyraes moving towards him and adjusted so that his back would be facing his partner. As their backs came together, Zolyas was more stable and could focus on his opponent better. They needed to do something to gain an edge.

As if in response to his thought, he heard from behind him "Over and Under. I go low, you go high." Zolyas knew the maneuver, and thought it might work. All he had to do was make an opening. He replied quietly, "On three. One, two, three." As he said three, he trapped his opponent's blade with his two swords and twisted his arms to fling the sword away. Then he spun, striking with both swords at the other fighter as Lyraes struck underneath.

Avaran, to his credit, blocked the first strike aimed at his torso, then he took Zolyas' second blade to the head and Lyraes' to the legs, and he was done. As the man fell, Zolyas turned to face Meccion picking up his sword and taking a ready stance. Without looking away from their opponent, Zolyas muttered to Lyraes "Pincer. Go." And immediately started arcing toward Meccion. They needed to finish this quickly, before anything really bad was thrown at them.

[Armina Terrac]

Armina watched the four warriors as they went with their practice duel. All seemed to ignore the gale she sent at them, but she saw some of the faces start to scrunch up. They were affected, but not letting it dig in at them. Good. The Yardmaster was right in that these young men were at least promising candidates. They wouldn’t die against the first band of trollocs they fought, or at least not all of them would.

The ice seemed to do its trick, setting them off balance. She let it die quietly turning to water, the slick ground would serve to make them careful, or so she suspected. In the meantime, the duo of Zolyas and Lyraes seemed to be making quick work of their opponents. One had gone down when they had tried to distract them, and while the boy could hardly be faulted for failing to defend against two sword blows it was not a good look for a so-called “promising” candidate. Hopefully, he would learn something from this going forward. It would hardly do for the two candidates to take on Meccion together without anything to stop them.

A small smile formed on Armina’s lips as her plan formed in her head. It was devious, unexpected, and a little bit childish. Still, Warders were expected to be ready for anything, and she had come here to practice her own skills before being roped into this little training exercise. If the yardmaster had a problem with it she was certain that he would address her away from the trainees anyway.

Armina channeled three separate bursts of air, this time more solid. The first two were directed at Zolyas and Lyraes, strikes at their legs to send them tumbling. The third was gentler but no less forceful. She pulled Meccion back, making sure he was out of reach of the sword blows while still forcing him to balance himself or go tumbling. As she did this a blade formed in her own hand, not the usual one of fire. Rather this one was made of shimmering air, identifiable to be seen coming, but no less dangerous than the practice blades the trainees used.

With one swift motion, Armina charged from the opposite direction of where she’d sent Meccion. If these two were as good as she thought this would still be over quickly, and she would eventually lose, but the time between would prove a valuable lesson for them. After all, if they lost to a sister, what business would they have trying to protect one?

[Lyraes Merrordren]

And the blast of solid air took Lyraes by surprise as he began to pivot into position, blade held low and ready. His experiences with the One Power were incredibly narrow and limited simply to the healing offered by the Yellow Sister once when he was injured during a particularly gruelling exercise. He knew it had the potential to be used as a weapon and that it could turn battles but he had assumed the oaths would keep Armina Sedai from directly interfering with the duel so when he slammed into the sodden grass, sliding back in a spray of mud and water, he could not help the surprise nor the anger. He slammed his fist down into the sodden earth as he pushed himself to his feet, staying low like a wolf crouching on its haunches before leaping to strike. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Avarran consider reclaiming his blade and think better of it even as he watched Meccion stagger from the gust which hit him but remain on his feet.

And then Armina Sedai joined the fray with a blade of blunt wind swirling in her hands, throwing Lyraes even further off balance as he weighed their options carefully. Hurting an Aes Sedai would never be an acceptable outcome for a Warder, they would have to not only deal with Meccion but remove Armina from the fight without hurting her or the Yardmaster would have their hides. He prepared for the fight first by bringing his blade up into Posta di fenestra, the Window Guard. He kept his blade steady as he began to pivot into place near Zolyas, piercing amber eyes boring into Meccion and the Aes Sedai in turn. He watched every movement and emboldened by the presence of the Aes Sedai Meccion struck at Lyraes who slapped his blade from the air, delivering a punishing blow to the crest of the other trainees shoulder with the false edge of his blade as he returned to his guard and remained patiently guarding his brother-in-arms, they would need to present a united from to face off against an Aes Sedai after all. Meccion, clearly stunned by the ferocity and swiftness of the counter strike, stumbled back coughing and groaning.

”Finish Meccion,” he growled quietly as he stepped in to intercept the Aes Sedai ”I will distract her,” and he hoped that Zolyas’ second blade would give him the flexibility to finish off Meccion without exposing himself to Armina Sedai’s blade, something which Lyraes’ longsword could not do…

[Zolyas Lamaera]

Zolyas' arc was interrupted by a blast of air that sent him flying forward. He tried to roll through, but the angle wasn't quite right and his roll became a tumble. He kept from being impaled on his blades, and got to his feet as quickly as he could, looking around to gauge the condition of the battlefield. He got his head around just in time to see Meccion closing on him, and the dance began anew.

Then he saw Armina Sedai enter the fray. He deflected strikes as his mind raced. Gaidin must be ready for anything. he thought, still on the defense. This was a wrinkle he had certainly not anticipated. They would have to stay alert and be careful. Her blade was not a training sword. He heard Lyraes say, "Finish Meccion. I will distract her."

Zolyas called out "On it." before launching himself at the other fighter. Meccion was good, no question about that. Zolyas struck again and again, whirling from stance to stance and using his momentum to keep the pressure on. One of the first things taught in Arafellan swordsmanship was how to outmaneuver a single blade. There were competing theories for the best method but most agreed that overwhelming assault was a good enough option to teach to most students.

Zolyas wasn't wasting time with fancy techniques. It was time to do or die. With an Aes Sedai actively on the field, there was no telling what else would happen. He kept the pace up and kept advancing, forcing Meccion to slowly give ground. He couldn't keep this up forever, but neither could his opponent.

Then it happened. Meccion stumbled, and Zolyas had his opening. Lunging forward faster than he had ever moved before, he reversed grip on his blades and put one hand on Meccion's wrist to keep his blade arm away from his body, and put his other hand in the center of the man's chest. He continued forward and bore his opponent to the ground, knocking the wind out of him. Zolyas came up to one knee and saw Meccion signaling his surrender as he gasped for breath. Zolyas gave him a quick pat on the arm before rising and running to where Armina Sedai and Lyraes were battling. He had no idea how skilled she was with that sword, but at this point he was bracing to face a Blademaster.