Sparring Fight

Writers: Devin, Estelle, Miriah
Date Posted: 22nd February 2021

Characters: N'vanik, J'ackt, R'ayl
Description: N'vanik and J'ackt unwittingly frighten the new Candidate
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 8, day 24 of Turn 10

N'vanik

J'ackt

With the threat against the Weyr and not knowing who the target, or
targets, might be, N'vanik wanted to make sure his skills were sharp.
The wooden swords clacked against each other as J'ackt blocked his
attack. The young man opened his mouth but N'vanik cut him off. "Yes,
I know. I'm old and slow. I've heard it before, you little arse." He
grinned and went for another lunge.

J'ackt's grin answered N'vanik's lunge as he stepped aside and flicked
N'vanik's practice sword to the side. "Joints creaking yet?" He
enjoyed sparring with the Weyrleader, testing him and of course, the
camaraderie that was always there when he did so. It wasn't often that
they had the opportunity; N'vanik's duties kept him from practicing
often and J'ackt didn't hesitate in pointing out when the Weyrleader
got rusty. He dodged another quick blow and with a quick glance at
N'vanik's hand, gestured with his chin. "Check your grip before I send
your blade flying."

N'vanik adjusted his fingers with a little grunt of annoyance. "You
just wait until drills tomorrow."

J'ackt noticed from the corner of his eye that a crowd was beginning
to gather to watch them; that too was common, so he ignored them.
Instead, a knowing grin flashed teeth and he gestured for N'vanik to
come for him again with a flick of his fingers. "I know, I know. I
heard that last time."

The Weyrleader went for a feint, then struck lower. "Maybe I'll put
you in charge of a nine."

J'ackt blocked the blow, the point of N'vanik's sword coming
perilously close to his groin. Eyes narrowing at the suggestion,
J'ackt struck back quickly, flicking the practice sword in an uppercut
towards N'vanik's belly. "Low blow, N'vanik."

N'vanik grinned as he deflected J'ackt's blade. "Have to make sure you
have the right experience so you can be Wingleader someday." He
stepped to the right and back before going for another lunge.

J'ackt backed from the lunge and slipped his blade up along N'vanik's
arm to give a light jab along the ribs. "Firestone will fly out my ass
before that happens." With that, he began an at full speed assault
towards the Weyrleader, keeping him on his toes.

Needing his focus, N'vanik fell silent as he worked to keep up with
the younger rider.

Word had spread quickly, and soon a group of young men and women with
Candidate knots emerged from the barracks to watch them practice. A few
had seen the Weyrleader and the young bronzerider sparring before, while
others were new Candidates who stared in awe at the spectacle.

Furayl hadn't known what was going on when he followed the others out,
thinking that something interesting was happening that he might want to
write about. It was only when he got closer that he saw it was a fight
and stood rooted to the spot, his throat tightening in panic. The blades
moved so swiftly he could hardly follow them, the men switching between
sweeping arcs from all directions and short, vicious thrusts. He wanted
to hide in the barracks, but no-one else seemed concerned by what they saw.

It was only when the older man blocked a cut and he heard a clack rather
than a metallic clang that he understood they were using wooden swords,
that it was only a practice. He remembered, back in the long ago time at
the Hold, going to watch the guards drilling with his brother. But that
hadn't been so fast... And then, he heard a name that chilled him to the
bone.

"Who's that?" one of the girls asked, with an appreciative sigh.

"That's J'ackt," her friend replied, equally dreamily. "Isn't he
amazing? I could watch them for _hours_..."

Her friend's reply made them both giggle, but Furayl couldn't heard any
more. The world seemed to blur around him and his heart began to pound
so hard he thought it would beat out of his chest. All he could see was
the dragonrider. The one who'd near enough killed his father. Who his
brother had come here to take revenge on, and failed.

Barely noting the crowd, J'ackt's assault on the Weyrleader bore fruit
from the other man's lack of regular practice. With a glance at
N'vanik's grip, J'ackt slid his practice sword down N'vanik's and
rapped the wood squarely on the knuckles.

With a grimace, N'vanik stepped back. While he appreciated that J'ackt
didn't hold back, it was still annoying when the young man got the
better of him. After a quick moment to recenter himself, N'vanik moved
forward for another attack.

J'ackt's grin never faltered as N'vanik came at him and he met every
blow with quick precision. As the crowd gathered, he allowed himself
to get backed up near the fence, but not close enough to be touched by
a young lady who attempted to reach out.

The young lady sighed at both the Weyrleader and J'ackt, then looked
down at Furayl. She gushed. "Aren't they wonderful? They're so quick
and..." She frowned. "Hey...you okay?"

With a gasp, the boy turned wide, terror-stricken eyes on her. For a
moment he was sure he'd been found out. How could he ever have thought
he'd pass unknown here? The heat of the day, the bright sunlight and the
excited murmurs of the crowd rushed in on him in a wave of dizziness and
he swayed. "I don't...feel good..."

One of the older Candidates reached him in a few quick strides and put
a steadying arm around him. "Take it easy," she said, steering him
gently toward the wooden bleachers. "Here, just sit down for a
moment."

The match went on, N'vanik nearly managing to graze J'ackt, but the
former holdless was too quick. The Weyrleader reacted to his counter
in time to block, their weapons clashing.

"I think we need a Healer!" Following the two to the bleachers, the
young woman's face showed evident concern at the paleness of Furayl's
face.

The feminine voice that called out caught J'ackt's attention and it
was enough of a distraction that N'vanik's sword caught him a solid
swipe along the forearm. Wincing, J'ackt held up a hand and turned,
brow furrowed. "Hold on...what's going on?"

Furayl looked up, past the other Candidates who'd gathered around him
and saw to his horror that the fight had stopped and the younger man was
looking straight at him. For one moment he was gripped with such intense
fear that he couldn't speak or even think. He was sure that the
dragonrider would know who he was instantly and that he was going to
die, like his brother.

Then, suddenly, he remembered the infirmary, how bright and clean and
calm it had been there, and what the Master Healer had told him.

"I'm okay," he said, his voice shaking as he looked up at the young
women. "I get dizzy sometimes. I just need to lie down."

N'vanik headed over to the group, dropping his sword at the edge of
the practice ring. Nudging the other Candidates aside, he made his way
to Furayl. "Hey, you okay?"

Furayl looked up at him and his eyes went wide. He was learning to
recognize Weyr knots and he had seen the man from a distance in the
dining cavern. This was the Weyrleader. One of the three who had sent
Grevan to the mine.

"He's not feeling well, sir." One of the other Candidates spoke up, to
the boy's relief. "He only got here a few days ago, maybe he's not used
to the heat."

N'vanik nodded. He'd seen a number of people succumb to Dolphin Cove's
tropical heat, especially new arrivals. "I think you should go to the
infirmary just in case." The boy looked scrawny. Either he was
naturally small or he hadn't been fed well back home. The Weyrleader
looked at one of the older Candidates. "Go with him, make sure he gets
there safe."

J'ackt looked over the fence at the boy, arching a brow. There was
something familiar about his facial features, but he couldn't place
it. Then again, many of the Candidates looked similar and with a
clutch hatching soon, there were more of them at the Weyr. "Let the
Weyrlingmaster know too."

"I'll do it," one of the girls said eagerly, and hurried off towards the
caverns and the Weyrlingmaster's office.

The other candidate rested a hand lightly on Furayl's shoulder. "You
okay? Do you think you could walk?"

Furayl managed a nod, unable to speak. His only thought was to get away
from here, to be as far from the bronzeriders as possible. He was sure
that other one had seen something. Unsteadily, he rose and leaned on the
older girl's arm. Even as they slowly walked away, he was terrified that
at any moment there'd be a shout of recognition, but it never came.

N'vanik watched him go for a moment. "Hope the kid is alright." He
wiped sweat from his brow. "One more round? Or are you tired of
embarrassing me in front of a crowd?" he asked J'ackt.

The young candidate was quickly forgotten as J'ackt grinned. "I never
get tired of embarrassing you. I practice that."

N'vanik snorted. "I bet you do."

Last updated on the February 24th 2021

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Sparring Fight