Stripped to the waist, Izlude shivered as a cold wind blew, despite the thin sheet of sweat that covered his body, and his fingers flexed on the long handle of his practice sword. The hot sun had slicked his chest, and his deep brown hair clung to his head in a sweat-curled mat. He stood on flat ground, adorned only with a few small tufts of dead grass, watching Weigraf.
Young as he was, Izlude was taller than most men, but Wiegraf stood just as tall, and broader in the shoulders. The elder man still sweated under the sun, but not quite as much as Izlude. Izlude watched his brown eyes for some sign of what was to come. Wiegraf seemed to never blink, his practice sword seemed alive in his hands.
The practice sword, just a wooden duplicate of the real swords they left tied to their chocobos, was not a dangerous weapon, but it made a loud clack when it struck anything, and left a painful welt whenever it hit skin. Izlude knew all too well; three thin red lines stung on his chest. It had taken all his effort to keep it at three. Wiegraf bore none.
Suddenly, giving no sign beforehand, Wiegraf leapt forward, swinging his sword. Izlude turned the wooden blade at the last moment. For several minutes, the loud iclack, clack, clack/i of the practice swords meeting filled the air. Izlude did not attack himself, it was all he could do to keep Wiegraf's attacks from landing home. Abruptly, Wiegraf's swinging slash changed in mid-motion to a thrust. Izlude leapt back, already wincing at the blow he could not stop.
The elder Shrine Knight's sword struck Izlude with enough force to completely knock the wind out of him, knocking him to the ground, his own practice sword falling from his hand. He closed his eyes and grimaced, expecting another blow to follow. After a few moments, when none came, he opened them.
Wiegraf was watching him silently, leaning on his wooden sword. Izlude noticed with a pang of jealousy that he didn't breath heavily at all. "You're getting better," was all Wiegraf said as he offered him a hand. Izlude accepted it and was pulled to his feet.
"I suppose," Izlude said slowly. Wiegraf was often very sparing in compliments, especially when they concerned his sword training. "I'm still not as good as I'd like to be. I mean, not until I'm your equal."
Wiegraf glanced at Izlude from the corner of his eye and chuckled drily as he turned and walked over to where their chocobos stood. "Don't assume that my skills stay at a standstill while you improve, Izlude. I improve just as you do." Izlude unwrapped the bundle on the saddle of his red chocobo and donned his green Shrine Knights robe. "One should never base their capabilities on those around them."
Izlude shrugged uncomfortably as he buckled his sword to his belt. "Yeah, I guess." Ungracefully, Izlude climbed up onto his chocobo's saddle. The red bird, as if sensing it's owner's mood, made a soft warking sound and shook it's head. After donning his own robe and sword, Wiegraf climbed onto his blue chocobo with just as little finesse. Neither of them had trained hard to learn how to ride chocobos more than what was necessary. "We should reach Orbonne tomorrow. Do you really think Ramza Beoulve will be there?"
Wiegraf's humor vanished like a pricked bubble at the mention of the heretic noble, and he turned to look off at the distance, where the monastery stood in the distance, looming like a giant omen of what was to be expected. "We're to retrieve the Virgo Holy Stone. That's all, Izlude, we're not hunting heretics. But if our paths were to cross with them..." Wiegraf trailed off dangerously, his hand gently stroking the handle of his sword.
Though he never spoke of it, there were dozens of rumors that explained why Wiegraf seemed to hate Ramza. Most of them seemed to point to the fact that the heretic killed his Wiegraf's sister. If that were the case, Izlude could understand perfectly. Had somebody killed Meliadoul, he'd go to great lengths to see justice dealt, to see her avenged. At the very least.
"I hope nobody resists us," he said, trying to change the subject. Rofel had mentioned that Virgo was to be gotten at all costs. Anybody who tried to impede the Shrine Knights in their holy mission of God did not walk in the light, he said. "I don't like the idea of having to... to kill our own priests." There was nothing honorable about such deeds, was there?
Wiegraf didn't respond, he just reached into his robes as if stroking something. Izlude blinked. If he was correct, that's where Wiegraf kept the Aries Holy Stone, given him to none other than Vormav, Izlude's father, several days before. He had said that it was best if a Shrine Knight held onto in. Izlude couldn't think of anyone better than Wiegraf, but he seemed far too attached to it recently. Probably just because of the dishonor that would follow if he lost it, Izlude surmised. Anybody would want to take special care of it.
"We'll ride for a few more hours until the sun sets," Wiegraf said suddenly. His gaze had never strayed from Orbonne Monastery in the distance. "We'll make camp one last time, but we won't continue your training, not yet. iHe/i might be there." Wiegraf's hand no longer stroked his sword, it gripped it until his knuckles grew white.
Izlude nodded. "Tomorrow, then." Would his father allow him to carry Virgo? Time could only tell. iPlease don't resist/i, Izlude pleaded mentally, then heeled his red chocobo to follow Wiegraf.
Young as he was, Izlude was taller than most men, but Wiegraf stood just as tall, and broader in the shoulders. The elder man still sweated under the sun, but not quite as much as Izlude. Izlude watched his brown eyes for some sign of what was to come. Wiegraf seemed to never blink, his practice sword seemed alive in his hands.
The practice sword, just a wooden duplicate of the real swords they left tied to their chocobos, was not a dangerous weapon, but it made a loud clack when it struck anything, and left a painful welt whenever it hit skin. Izlude knew all too well; three thin red lines stung on his chest. It had taken all his effort to keep it at three. Wiegraf bore none.
Suddenly, giving no sign beforehand, Wiegraf leapt forward, swinging his sword. Izlude turned the wooden blade at the last moment. For several minutes, the loud iclack, clack, clack/i of the practice swords meeting filled the air. Izlude did not attack himself, it was all he could do to keep Wiegraf's attacks from landing home. Abruptly, Wiegraf's swinging slash changed in mid-motion to a thrust. Izlude leapt back, already wincing at the blow he could not stop.
The elder Shrine Knight's sword struck Izlude with enough force to completely knock the wind out of him, knocking him to the ground, his own practice sword falling from his hand. He closed his eyes and grimaced, expecting another blow to follow. After a few moments, when none came, he opened them.
Wiegraf was watching him silently, leaning on his wooden sword. Izlude noticed with a pang of jealousy that he didn't breath heavily at all. "You're getting better," was all Wiegraf said as he offered him a hand. Izlude accepted it and was pulled to his feet.
"I suppose," Izlude said slowly. Wiegraf was often very sparing in compliments, especially when they concerned his sword training. "I'm still not as good as I'd like to be. I mean, not until I'm your equal."
Wiegraf glanced at Izlude from the corner of his eye and chuckled drily as he turned and walked over to where their chocobos stood. "Don't assume that my skills stay at a standstill while you improve, Izlude. I improve just as you do." Izlude unwrapped the bundle on the saddle of his red chocobo and donned his green Shrine Knights robe. "One should never base their capabilities on those around them."
Izlude shrugged uncomfortably as he buckled his sword to his belt. "Yeah, I guess." Ungracefully, Izlude climbed up onto his chocobo's saddle. The red bird, as if sensing it's owner's mood, made a soft warking sound and shook it's head. After donning his own robe and sword, Wiegraf climbed onto his blue chocobo with just as little finesse. Neither of them had trained hard to learn how to ride chocobos more than what was necessary. "We should reach Orbonne tomorrow. Do you really think Ramza Beoulve will be there?"
Wiegraf's humor vanished like a pricked bubble at the mention of the heretic noble, and he turned to look off at the distance, where the monastery stood in the distance, looming like a giant omen of what was to be expected. "We're to retrieve the Virgo Holy Stone. That's all, Izlude, we're not hunting heretics. But if our paths were to cross with them..." Wiegraf trailed off dangerously, his hand gently stroking the handle of his sword.
Though he never spoke of it, there were dozens of rumors that explained why Wiegraf seemed to hate Ramza. Most of them seemed to point to the fact that the heretic killed his Wiegraf's sister. If that were the case, Izlude could understand perfectly. Had somebody killed Meliadoul, he'd go to great lengths to see justice dealt, to see her avenged. At the very least.
"I hope nobody resists us," he said, trying to change the subject. Rofel had mentioned that Virgo was to be gotten at all costs. Anybody who tried to impede the Shrine Knights in their holy mission of God did not walk in the light, he said. "I don't like the idea of having to... to kill our own priests." There was nothing honorable about such deeds, was there?
Wiegraf didn't respond, he just reached into his robes as if stroking something. Izlude blinked. If he was correct, that's where Wiegraf kept the Aries Holy Stone, given him to none other than Vormav, Izlude's father, several days before. He had said that it was best if a Shrine Knight held onto in. Izlude couldn't think of anyone better than Wiegraf, but he seemed far too attached to it recently. Probably just because of the dishonor that would follow if he lost it, Izlude surmised. Anybody would want to take special care of it.
"We'll ride for a few more hours until the sun sets," Wiegraf said suddenly. His gaze had never strayed from Orbonne Monastery in the distance. "We'll make camp one last time, but we won't continue your training, not yet. iHe/i might be there." Wiegraf's hand no longer stroked his sword, it gripped it until his knuckles grew white.
Izlude nodded. "Tomorrow, then." Would his father allow him to carry Virgo? Time could only tell. iPlease don't resist/i, Izlude pleaded mentally, then heeled his red chocobo to follow Wiegraf.