User blog:Ziharku/Log 16: A Fond Memory

As I was sparring with the Hume Corsair today, the little Black Mage asked me something. Despite my use of a Falcion, being a single-edged blade, I often swung it as though it were double-edged, and my thrusts were as though I held a rapier. So long, I've used swords, that I hadn't noticed my older sword-style showing on the new swords I had acquired since entering the Immortals. I'll have to adjust to more cutting and slicing than thrusts I suppose.

A thin sword clatters on the stony ground of the training area. "Pick it up again Ziharku, our training has only begun." It is an older time. Myself, far younger and fresh into the Iron Rams, as I began my training as a Red Mage. I can hear whispers from the other trainees, most putting in their training at half the effort so as to watch me fail repeatedly. "How did he even get into the army? He must be no more than 10" "A crying shame, he won't last a minute out on the field." Frustrated, I reach down and pick up the Degen lying before me. My hand still hurts from the lashing it's received thus far, my instructor having disarmed me several times. Running forward I swing broadly, hoping to land a hit, only to have the intricate cross-guard of his Broadsword rap me in the forehead, knocking me to the ground. Rubbing the new knot on my head, I feel the cold steel press against my neck. "I suppose we can't put you on the front lines if this is all you can do, head back to your magic lessons. Rainemard (S) said he had something interesting today." Degen back at my waist, I walk away, hearing the instructor mutter something about "Damned Tarutaru."

Arriving just outside the gates in East Ronfaure (S), I hear the strangest laugh I've come across in my life, even in the present. "Ohohohoho, is this the one you spoke so highly of?" Turning swiftly, I see a troupe of Tarutaru, the laugh seeming to have emitted itself from the female standing near my teacher. "Well then, let's have a look," she said, trotting over (I say trotting, but the actual speed was rather low considering the length of her legs). She inspected me, walking in circles with several "hmm"s and "I see"s. Finally convinced, she applauded. "Yes, yes, I do see, something that could interest me." ....Did she just rhyme? In fact thinking about it her first sentence almost rhymed too in an odd fashion. My teacher explained that his knowledge of magics, vast into both black and white as it may be, just wasn't sufficient for the level I had reached. That said, he had decided to ask a favor of the Leonian War Warlocks. Perhaps they could give me more incite to effective casting or more spells that could be of use for attacking rather than just crippling foes as we had been doing thus far.

Convinced I had the means, but not that I actually had the knowledge, the one with such disturbing laughter and speech methods bid I protect myself as best I could to test the durability of my magic defenses. Blue and green glow emanating, my skin turned to stone, defense in magic to match a spear-man's shield, and several resistances wove their way through my mouth at a speed that gave even my master eyes a bit wider than before. Picking up my buckler, I took a defensive stance and wove a similar array over the shield as well. Nodding to the little one before me, he slowly, softly, wove the wind as it chilled the air around me, slowly spiraling into a vortex. Noticing the shift, I changed my resistances to meet the attack impending. A flurry of ice an cold assaulted me in the eye of the temperature zone the little one had created around me, and on collision with my body a mass of ice chunks and powder created a cloud around me, blocking my body from sight.

With another crooked laugh, the little lady assured my teacher, mouth agape, that he shouldn't worry. That I would recover from the hit soon enough, but that he should seek assistance from a White Mage instead perhaps before I became an attacker. The little one that had cast on me let out a cry of victory as his comrades came forward to him with congratulations.

Suddenly, the cloud of ice became steam, rising quickly and no longer obscuring me from sight. Shocked, the little ones stopped their small celebration to see me with defensive stance still intact. My stony skin, nearly unmarked, I straightened slowly. A great grin spread across my master's face. "Ohohohoho it must be true. Great potential, I've seen in you." Again with the rhyming. I don't know if I can take instruction from someone whose manner of speech is so...odd. I wonder if she rearranges the words in her incantations to rhyme as well.

With my magic potency at levels unheard of, my master bid that I should join them in Windurst, a young Black Mage being my new tutor. They called my use of defensive magic that of a prodigy, and that being alongside a someone who was equal, if not better, in the arcane arts might hold better results. I also heard something under her breath about finding the secret in my defensive magic for their own White Mages. This new tutor of mine was named...what was it..Chihatora?

Awakened from my memory with a start I stared over at the Black Mage in the troupe. The very same fellow I met twenty years ago, there in the same room. "Ya know, you're lucky I haven't knocked you flat yet, just standing there in a daze." I look over to see the Corsair leaned lazily against a wall. A bit of honor in this Hume, perhaps, that he didn't take the severely long opening I presented in my recollection. "Well then, I guess we can go again, or are you gonna daydream again, knife-ears?" I ready myself for his next charge.