Tales of Symphonia © Namco
Days in Triet seem to pass by in the slowest way possible. The first three days we spend here are absolutely monotonous, so much so that I end up helping out around shops just to pass by time. I offered to do it for free, but many of the shopkeepers had refused to allow me to help without some sort of compensation.
Still, I can tell that they have very little money so compensation comes in the form of books for the most part. Many of the books are history texts, which surprisingly are very interesting.
Sylvarant's history doesn't — seem to — date back as far as Earth's, but it is still rich with things that I find absolutely fascinating.
It is the middle of the third day in Triet when something finally happens. I'm working at the weapon shop when it does, which, like in the game, is near the back of the town. Still, there is a relatively clear view of the town square from here, and so when a crowd of people begins forming in the square my attention is peaked.
"I'll be r-right back," I tell the blacksmith, placing the cloth I had been holding on the counter and wiping my hands down on the apron I had been lent. Weaving through the dense crowd I grunt, attempting to at least see into the center without being knocked back.
When I finally shove my way into the center, though, I am not expecting to see what I do.
The same green and white animal I saw a few days ago is holding a blonde girl on his back, with four other companions as well. All of them, besides the adult male, look worn out and like they could collapse at any moment.
Lloyd's group.
"Chosen one," A man who I recognize as the Inn keeper mutters. Colette stumbles off of Noishe, patting his head weakly while smiling at the older man. The creases of her eyes crinkle, showing it is fake, but I doubt that the Inn keeper notices, "you and your companions seem tired. Please, allow for your rooms to be on the house for tonight."
"Oh, no that's alright!" Colette protests, shaking her head. The strain and weariness is obvious in her voice, and apparently I'm not the only one to notice it as the Inn keeper shakes his head as well. "We can pay, there is no need for you to be so kind."
"Nonsense."
The rest of the conversation is cut off as the crowd shifts and people begin to converse among each other. For a few more seconds I attempt to listen in, but inevitably I give up and return back to the weapon shop.
Compared to Meltokio's Weapon Shop, Triet's is low grade. My weapon, according to the shop owner, is of much better metal and quality than any he carries. When asked about where I got it, though, I had been forced to make up a reason, which had came in the form of a traveling salesman. After a bit of prodding he convinced me to allow him to examine the weapon, after promising to not damage or alter it in any way.
Unfortunately though my weapon is still in his possession now, and now that Lloyd's group is back, Sheena and I will need to be leaving soon to reach the trail before the group. I'll make sure and bring it up to her later tonight.
Picking the cloth back up, I return to the monotonous chore of cleaning up the workspace of the blacksmith. It is a cumbersome process, which takes me a solid hour usually to complete. But it gives me something to do, so I don't complain. I've even gotten a few books as payment.
The only bad thing about receiving books as payment is that they're heavy. I'm going to either have to ask Sheena to carry some for me, or leave some of them behind if I want to travel without straining myself.
As the day ticks on I find myself growing antsy. Hours have passed since the commotion in the town square, and I've seen no evidence of the group being here since then. There are very few people wandering around today as well, leaving little to do to fill the empty void of this job.
The shop owner — a well built dark haired man with a beer belly named Paul — left around thirty minutes ago, leaving me in charge of the shop until he gets back. I asked him if that is a good idea; I mean, for all he knows I could be a thief, but he simply waved his hand at me and said that his instinct had told him I'm an obedient 'kid'. So since then, I've just been lounging around in the heat, fanning myself with a small booklet as I read through another chapter of 'The Wonders of Triet'.
This book in particular is all about the history and building of Triet and surrounding areas. Turns out that according to a very thick history book that I'm only twenty pages into, Sylvarant's current calendar dates back approximately eight hundred years, with year zero beginning with the decline of the world. Before the current calendar there's a period of 'Flourishing', similar to Earth's 'BC' era that consist of the Kharlan war, Spiritua's birth, Spiritua's journey, and the Sylvarant's flourishing periods until year zero, when Sylvarant began to decline. After year zero, all of the Chosen's apparently are murdered by the Desians, sending the world into a downward spiral of discord.
The Chosen at the time, Nora, arrived at Efreet's temple, located in the center of what is known old Triet, in order to perform the ritual of regeneration. However, as the Chosen was completing the ritual with the angels of Cruxis, one of the accompanying priests became violent and the Cruxis unleashed the wrath of the god, angered by his brash and disrespectful actions. In the end, this lead to the destruction of old Triet and the temple.
It is said that the Chosen was killed in Efreet's rampage, as were the priests who accompanied her, and some people believe that the spirits of the chosen and the priests still wander the ruins in search for an exit from the blazing heat that had caused their end.
This event marks the beginning of what became to be known as Efreet's hellfire. Those who survived the tragedy left the ruins of old Triet behind and hiked through the barren wasteland to recreate their home; eventually settling on the Oasis located in the center of the desert. In honor of their old home, the founders named their town 'Triet' and have made sure to never let their descendants forget the tales of their ancestors.
"Ah — it's you!"
I look up from the book, blinking from my spot behind the counter. In front of the counter, there are two boys; one much younger than the other and with silver hair. The older one is staring at me in surprise, and I realize that it is the same boy who had knocked me over a few days ago; Lloyd. Beside him is Genis, who, in all his silver haired glory, looks greatly overwhelmed by the heat.
Nudging my bookmark into the book, I place it down on my stool as I stand and make my way to the counter. "You're ... that boy," I say awkwardly, "suspender boy." I could've chosen a better way to identify him, but it is more fun to cause a bit of embarrassment. "It's ... nice t-to see you again."
Lloyd flushes in embarrassment, crossing his arms — red, leather covered arms, how isn't he suffocating in — over his chest while Genis snickers beside him. "Yeah, nice to see you again too," he pauses. "You work here?" He motions at the weapon stand, and I shrug in response.
"Um, sorta," I run my sweaty palms down the side of the apron, "just part time. I need ... well, something to do until I leave Triet." Noticing the sun beating down on the both of them, I motion at the interior of the shop. "Y-You can step in, if you want ... " I frown. "I mean, it is hot enough without the sun on you."
Both the boys scramble past the counter at my offer and I can't resist grinning. It isn't much cooler under here, but the shade does make a bit of a difference. "Thanks," Lloyd says, and when he elbows Genis, the half-elf grumbles it as well. I just wave my hand dismissively at them, settling back down on my stool.
"I'm, uh, Eden," I introduce, "you two are ... ?"
"I'm Lloyd, and this is Genis," Lloyd motions with his thumb towards the small mage.
I wave a bit at them, trying to come across as natural as possible, "Nice meeting you."
Idly I finger the spine of the book. Lloyd frowns at it. "That book looks like the one Professor Sage gave me last year ... " he muses, seeming to glare at the red book.
I hold it up for him to look at, "The Wonders of Triet," I read aloud, "it is really interesting; ha-have you read through it completely?"
"Psh — Lloyd, read? As if." Genis scoffs, speaking for the first time to me. "Lloyd wouldn't willingly read if his life depended on it."
"Hey —! " Lloyd protests. Before they can start an argument, I speak.
"You two look terrible."
They really do, though. Genis is badly sunburned, and his silver hair is mussed up even worse than Lloyd's was been the morning he crashed into me. They both look completely exhausted as well; though, they have been in the desert traveling for the past three days. I had felt horrible after only three hours or so ... I can't imagine any longer out there.
I really am not looking forward to trekking towards the Ossa Trail.
Lloyd scrunches his nose up in discontent. "Well, yeah; we've been out in the desert for soooo long ..." He lets out a moan of agony, I think, "I thought we would never make it back here."
"It wasn't that bad," Genis pipes in, crossing his arms with a huff, "you just got over excited in the beginning and wore yourself out."
"Shut up Genis."
The two begin to bicker again and I let another sigh escape my lips. They're almost like siblings — like me and my siblings were.
'No,' I scold myself. 'Now is not the time for that.'
I let it go on for a few seconds, purely so I can push the thoughts of my family away before asking, "Are you, um, o-on a pilgrimage, or something?"
Their arguing stops. "Uh, well, not really," Lloyd tells me, scratching the back of his head. "I mean — sorta ... but at the same time ... "
I can tell he's having issues answering, so I take pity on him and offer, "You're traveling with the Chosen, r-right?"
Both of them look shocked. Genis is the first to recover, though, and with a hint of suspicion in his voice he replies, "Why do you ask?"
Trying my best to be nonchalant, I pick at my fingernails and try to dig the sand out from underneath them. "I just ... th-this morning, the Chosen arrived," I blink up at them, "and I thought I saw you two. Am I wrong?"
Genis is still suspicious, but he backs off a bit with my explanation, "No ... you're right. We are traveling with the Chosen."
"... Awesome." My voice has no hint of interest, though, so it comes out in a dry, sarcastic tone. My fingers run across the binding of 'The Wonders of Triet' as I say, "Make sure you're careful. It would really suck to lose a limb, o-or even your life from carelessness, wouldn't it?"
Lloyd's eyes widen, and a terse silence falls over the three of us. I realize this probably isn't the best thing to say, and quickly offer a small smile at the pair. "Just kidding," my voice comes out with a hint of cheeriness, "the Goddess Martel will ... she will keep you all safe." I have to grind out the last part, feeling almost sick. The Goddess Martel ... as if.
"Don't kid about something like that!" Lloyd snaps, sounding angry. My eyes widen in surprise, and before he can go off into an angry rant of sorts Genis elbows him, hard, in the ribs.
I chew on my bottom lip, "S-Sorry, I-I'm really sorry ... " my words come out quiet, "that was out of line. Forgive me?" I balance my elbow on my leg, cupping my cheek in my palm while staring at the pair. They're silent, before Lloyd sighs.
"Yeah, OK, sure ..."
I frown. Before I can say anything else I hear a boasting laugh from a few stalls down, and practically jump when I recognize it as the laugh of the shop owner. "Shoot, um, y-you two need to go," I usher the confused pair towards the counter, practically shoving them into the sun.
Before either can question my hurry Paul waltzes up, placing his heavy hand on my shoulder. I shiver uncomfortably and escape from the grip.
"Sorry for my absence!" He marches into the shop, looking at Lloyd and Genis curiously, "Customers?"
"Um, no ... " I stutter, feeling nervous all of a sudden, "they just ... th-there were some questions a-about the stock." Discretely I wave my hand at them in a 'leave' motion. "They're just going."
Catching my hint, the boys take off. Paul stares at the spot they occupied before shrugging and returning to the back to work.
A few hours later I've been dismissed from the other part time job I work, and am walking back to the Inn. The sun hasn't set yet, but working for a good portion of the day is tiresome.
Thankfully though, seeing as the second job is at the little food stand, the owner was kind enough to give me some of the leftover produce. I had initially refused, but when she shoved it at me I hastily thanked her and left.
I'm chewing on the stem of a strawberry when I unlock the door of the room. Sheena isn't here, so I shut it behind me and dump both my bag and the groceries on the table before returning to another one of the books; a biography on first ruler of the Balcruf Dynasty.
The first ruler of Balacruf Dynasty was the Empress Aisha VIII. Not only was she intelligent, but was said to be very beautiful. Her name is still very common today due to the prosperity during her reign.
Aisha VIII claimed the throne at the tender age of twelve, after the murder of her parents by the Desians. With her high intelligence she lead many attacks on the Desians, and is known even today as the Dynasty's best tactician. By fifteen she had successfully fought off three raids from the Desians, saving countless people from the cruel and inhumane fates they would've faced in the Human Ranches.
However, the Empress soon grew ill. A higher fever settled upon her one summer day, and frantic servants and nurses tried desperately to bring it down, to no avail. When the Empress was on her death bed, a Priest from the far village of Iselia told the nurses that the only way to cure the Empress of her illness was to make the long journey to said village and pray to the Goddess Martel for seven days, and seven nights. However, before the group could reach the quaint village a group of half-elves attacked and slaughtered them all.
"Hey," I look up from the book as Sheena enters into the room. Giving a half-hearted wave I push the bag of food across the table towards her, returning to my book as she sits across from me.
This isn't the first time I've come back with food of some kind, so Sheena doesn't even question where it came from as she takes some out of the containers. Her brown eyes land on my book, and with a hint of surprise she questions, "You're still reading?"
"Of course," I retort, "I had no idea that Sylvarant had such a rich history." Drawing my legs underneath my bum I sit on my knees and roll my shoulder back, "Did you know that there was a ruler who killed over a th-thousand —"
"I get it," Sheena cuts off my incoming lecture. The first time I had started she listened, albeit in extreme boredom, but after that she managed to cut me off before I could get to the good parts.
Huffing, I shut the book, "Mood killer ... I can't even bring myself to read anymore." With an over exaggerated sigh I tap my fingers rhythmically on the cover.
"What ever will you do?" Sheena questions lightly. Jokingly I poke my tongue out at her, retracting it soon afterwards. After a brief silence Sheena speaks again, in a more serious voice. "We're leaving tomorrow."
Blinking, I stare at her. I meant to bring it up later in the conversation, but it seems she just cut right to it. Nonetheless I nod my head in agreement, leaning my chin into my palm and trying my best to ignore the tight coil of anxiety wrapping itself around my insides. "In the morning?"
Sheena nods and I lean back in the chair, sighing to myself. I move off of my legs so that I'm directly on the wood chair and my hands are clasped in my lap. Looks like the peaceful days are over. "I'm guessing you saw the group i-in the center today, then?"
"Yeah," The ninja confirms. Her face twists, and I notice the slight discomfort weaving into the seemingly emotionless face as she quietly says, "I — ... until now, I hadn't really formed a good image of the girl." Huh. That's surprising. "The description just ... didn't register when I read it. But now that I've seen the girl, I just ..."
I wait patiently for Sheena to finish. "I didn't expect her to be so ... young, I guess."
"Yuan told us her age," I point out. Sheena sighs and looks over at the window, swallowing before speaking.
"I know — I know." She says. I see her shift anxiously. Over week and a half or so with Sheena I've managed to pick up on the things she does when anxious; the most obvious being shifting her position. Unsurprisingly, the nineteen year old is pretty skilled at hiding her emotions. But every so often I get snippets of her emotional responses, like right now. And I've held onto them.
"I just — ugh, never mind."
"I-It's okay, I get what you mean," I reassure her as I open up my bag. Taking my time I arrange the books in a semi-neat format, with the biggest ones in the back and the smaller ones on the side. My knife, sweatshirt, and my shorts are stuffed into here as well. I have the key from the Meltokio inn in here as well.
When my book collection started growing I had to move a lot of things from the main pouch to the smaller front pouches so that I could fit them all. I lift it, checking the weight, and grimace.
"Gonna change a-and pick up my sword," I tell Sheena as I remove my folded sweatshirt and shorts from my bag. I don't bother to close my bag before I leave, trusting Sheena to not go through it. Besides, there isn't really anything in there besides books and some gels.
"I'll be back in a bit."
There isn't a personal bathroom for the rooms in Triet's inn, but rather a main toilet and bathing area on the first floor. When I first arrived I had been terrified I would have to use an outhouse, or something similar ... but to my delight Triet's inn — I'm not sure about the houses — has a main bathroom for those staying.
The bathroom is unoccupied, so I slip in and lock the door behind me. With only the dim lighting of the lanterns to guide me I strip out of my clothes and pull my sweatshirt on over my head. For a few seconds I just stand in place, holding the collar of the sweatshirt to my face and breathing in deeply. It still smells like home.
I use the restroom before I put on my shorts and after I've adjusted them accordingly I gather the outfit into my arms and leave the bathroom as obscurely as possible. Shorts and sweatshirts had been odd in Tethe'alla and I'm sure they're much odder to see in Sylvarant.
I make it back upstairs and into the inn room without any trouble. Sheena is changed as well when I return; unlike in the game, she doesn't sleep in her normal clothes, but rather another outfit she keeps in her bag.
We don't exchange any words when I leave again. I practically jump down the last four stairs of the lobby, and I'm outside less than a minute later. With the sun set and the moon beginning to peak over the horizon I head towards the houses located on the outskirts of town. The blacksmith told me which house is his soon after I started working there, when I warned him that I might need my sword back at an unusual time.
Taking precaution to not trip in the sand I rasp my knuckles against the door and wait for an answer. After a small wait the door swings open.
"Sword," I immediately say, staring at the pudgy man in the doorway. He blinks a few times, looking confused, before a look of realization comes to his face.
"Ah yes, yes, the sword," beckoning for me to come in he trots back into the house. Feeling just a little nervous I step in, shutting the door behind me. I stay close to the door, with my hand on the handle in case I need to get out quickly ... or something.
Thankfully I don't. After a minute of waiting Paul returns with my sword in hand. I take it gratefully, as he joyfully mentions how skilled the craftsman had to have been. We exchange light conversation before I'm back on the porch with my sword in arms.
I turn on my heel to leave when Paul speaks again. "Girl — " I don't turn, "it's been nice havin' you as a worker. Stop by next time you're in town." I look over my shoulder and give a small smile to the man before heading off.
By the time I get back to the inn the streets are deserted. The lobby is the same and I quickly spare a glance up at the clock on the wall. Nearly eleven.
The walk back upstairs is quick and when I enter the room I wave at Sheena. After I've bolted the door to the room I roll my neck and remove 'The Wonders of Triet' from my bag on the table, setting my sword down beside the bag. Settling onto my bed I lean back and rest the book against my knee, which is drawn up while Sheena returns to her conversation with Corrine.
I've become ... used to this. Sheena talks to Corrine every night before she sleeps, and I read and respectfully ignore their conversation. Not that I can understand them in the first place, though; they're always speaking in hushed voices and possibly not even in English. I haven't ever heard a familiar word during those conversations, on the rare occasions that they speak loud enough for me to overhear them.
So, like every other night so far I drone out their voices as the words of the book tumble into my head. Late night reading is the best kind of reading there is.
Every year, on the twelfth day of the thirteenth month, Triet holds a large celebration to honor the anniversary of the Chosen Nora's death. For three days, the town comes alive and business thrives in the small desert town as people flock from all across the continents to attend. It is the one time of the year that the secluded town gets any real sort of attention.
On the first day, children run around with a mask of Efreet on their face. Some of the more mischievous children occasionally will play tricks on visitors, which can range from harmless jokes to borderline dangerous actions. On the second day, a large ceremony is held in the small church located right outside the town. For hours on end people will kneel and pray, performing rituals to remember the unfortunate death of Nora the Chosen and to wish for the health, success and good manners of the current generation.
That's another interesting thing about Sylvarant and Tethe'alla — I had initially assumed that other than the different month names the calendar is basically the same. However, turns out I was completely wrong ... both worlds operate on a thirteen month year, with each month having approximately twenty eight days each. The weeks all have seven days though, thankfully, so at least I don't have to adjust to longer weeks.
That had really screwed me up when I learned it. I've yet to find a book that has an accurate and detailed description of the world's calendars, unfortunately; I'll have to try in Palmacosta or something.
My fingers feel heavy as I rest them on the page of my book, no longer focused on the information on the page. I feel my palms growing sweaty as that all too familiar feeling of depression settles upon me.
While all this knowledge of the world is interesting, I can't help but fear that slowly, overtime, I'll begin to forget what it's like back home. Without any personal trinkets or even photos of my friends and family to keep my together, I only have memories to remember them by. Memories to remember Earth by.
If I ever get home, will I even resemble the person I was when I disappeared? Or ... will the false information that surrounds me right now override the things I grew up with?
Just the thought of that sends a chill through my body. I don't want to forget about home. I don't want to lose my grip on such simple things that I didn't even realize mattered to me before now. I guess that saying of not knowing what you have until it's gone is true, in the end.
Feeling empty, I draw both my knees up and rest my forehead on them. I blink rapidly to deter the tears once again pulling at the corners of my eyelids, feeling almost disgusted by the amount of times I've had to do it since arriving. Before I got trapped in Symphonia, I prided myself on never crying, no matter what.
In the end, I'm not nearly as strong as I lead myself — and others — to believe.
"Eden?" I hear the questioning voice of Sheena, but barely register it through the waves of disgust and anger assaulting me right now. Everything I believed about myself before now just ... is crumpled into a huge mess. The persona and facade I put up and fooled people with is gone, and in its place is the weak and scared part of me I've tried so hard to lock away.
And I hate it. I hate having to rebuild what I spent so many years solidifying. It's like I'm eight again and the world is crashing around me with intents to turn me into a nobody; or, I suppose, more of a nobody then I already am. I'm weak again. I'm vulnerable again … I'm afraid again.
I take a moment to revel in my own self loathing and pity, before forcing my emotions back. It's not the time to feel. It isn't safe to feel.
"I'm fine," I hastily reply, rubbing my fists vigorously against my eyes, "just got some sa-sand i-in my eyes." Sheena looks at me, disbelieving, as I focus my eyes on the wall in front of me.
If I look at her I'll break. Right now, Sheena is who I associate these changes with, for whatever reason. I've only recently gotten her to trust me again ... gotten her to see me as someone she can trust, rather than a child she needs to watch out for. If I start crying out of nowhere, it'll ruin the persona I'm attempting to build back up. It'll ruin everything all over again.
Don't look at her, don't say anything. Just stay silent and she'll go away. It's worked with other people and it'll work with her; it has to.
Except, apparently I'm wrong because instead of giving up and dismissing it from her mind she lets out a frustrated groan. "Listen ... I know we haven't known each other for long," the ninja starts, her voice soft, "and I know I'm not the best person to deal with emotions," my eyes flicker over to her, though I don't otherwise move my head, "but ... ugh, you shouldn't bottle stuff in. Just ... just trust me, OK? I may not understand exactly what you're dealing with, but ..."
My stomach coils. Sheena definitely isn't any good at emotions. She's only a bit better at helping others compared to me. The difference between us, though, is that she's strong and I'm not. Sheena doesn't break down in tears when she's upset — she didn't do it in the game, so why should she be any different in real life?
A game. I'm in a game. Game, game, game …
"Thank you," I croak in response. I will gain control back; I have to. I must. I must, I must. "But ... I think I would rather forget about it, for now."
Sheena nods reluctantly and I'm pretty sure that she won't press it any further. I would imagine she had the same feelings after the Volt incident, just wanting to forget about the issue, rather than deal with it head on. Such a terrible way to cope; but it is easy, convenient …
Everything that I want and need right now.
Without Sheena to push the issue any further, the heavy onset of my mind pushing the thoughts away makes me droop. Greedily I prepare myself to indulge in the distraction, fully ready to engorge in the simple pleasure given off by the sudden emptiness inside of me — except, something goes wrong. Something goes terribly wrong.
The room seems to fade from my view as my eyes blur dangerously and an all too familiar wetness drips from my eyes. Angrily I realize that the tears I've tried so hard to keep away are assaulting me head on, and all at once the emotions that plague me weave into the narrow and empty cracks of my body. My safe holds aren't working; my control is slipping. I'm falling apart.
Feeling frustrated by my display of weakness I grab the pillow from behind me and hide my face in it. Without even bothering to climb under the thin sheets of the bed I lay on my side so my back is to Sheena and my head is buried into the pillow.
"Goodnight," I offer, before going silent and trying to ease myself into unconsciousness in hopes of regaining myself when I wake up. Except, while I manage to trap myself in my mind and block out the rest of the world around me, I'm fully aware and awake of the things around me. I can hear Sheena and Corrine talking, I can hear cicadas chirping outside; I can even feel the gaze of Sheena's eyes on my back.
'Please don't watch me,' I feel nauseous all of a sudden and curl forward. 'Forget I'm here, forget I exist just for tonight; please, please ... '
An eternity must pass before Sheena finally un-summons Corrine and retires to her own bed. Before she blows out the candles illuminating the room though she lets out a sigh.
"Just ... don't stay up too late, alright?" I hear her get underneath the bed sheet, "I'm waking you up in the morning to train before we leave, and it will be better for the both of us if you are rested."
Then she goes silent. More time passes, in which I gradually begin to loosen my death hold on the pillow and relax. When I'm sure that Sheena is asleep I allow my exhaustion to overtake me and hope for a peaceful, dreamless sleep.
" — ... y, up. G ... t up."
Groaning quietly I roll onto my stomach, trying to block out the voice. I feel another jab, which causes me to jerk away, before the voice returns, more clear this time. "Get up."
Blinking tiredly I force my eyes open, disoriented by the heavy blur of the room. A second later I recognize the voice to be Sheena's and when I turn in its direction I see said ninja staring down at me in annoyance.
"It's about time," She utters, crossing her arms. I bite back a yawn and push myself up, pressing my palms into my eyes.
The room is still blurry when I remove them and with a huff of irritation I run my hands through my bangs and push them away from my forehead. "W't time's it?" I drone, feeling dead. At least I didn't dream last night.
"A little before six." I blink.
"Ugh ... " I lean forward and hide my face in the mattress, my upper body bent over. Too early. Sheena grabs the hood of my sweater, pulling me up and causing me to let out a squeak of indignation. She makes sure not to grip too tightly, keeping the fabric from digging into the skin of my neck, but still tight enough to get the point across.
"Stop it," she chastises, "I told you last night that I was going to wake you up to train."
"You didn't say at six in the morning," I whine, closing my eyes tiredly, "how was I supposed to know you were going to pick such a st-stupid hour to train at?"
"Don't be so dramatic," Sheena releases my hood, looking completely awake. She's already dressed and ready — how? — and without hesitation she heads towards the door, "I'll be back in a few minutes, so get dressed before I'm back."
As the door swings shut behind her I let out a loud groan and fall forward again.
After a minute or so of moping about my loss of sleep I drag myself out of bed and strip out of my clothes. I catch sight of the long, ugly scar on my chest and it immediately jolts me awake.
I take my time putting on my jumper so that I don't end up putting any part on backwards.
Sheena enters the room as I'm putting on socks, and she tosses something at me. Ultimately I fail at catching it, though I do put up a rather good display while struggling to do so which causes her to sigh. I swear I hear her mutter something about catching and aiming under her breath, but I could be wrong.
"Eat, we're gonna be traveling all day so you need to have some energy,"
Begrudgingly I rip the packaging open and tear off a piece of the bread, stuffing it into my mouth. It has an overly sweet taste to it that makes my insides churn, but I force myself to swallow it anyways. I tear off one more piece, but ultimately push the rest aside. Disgusting. I didn't expect for Sylvarant to have any sort of packaged food besides crackers, so I'm not surprised that it isn't very good.
After some struggle I shove my foot into my boots and fall back on the bed. "Are you sure I can't sleep just a little more?" I croak, leaning my head over the opposite side of the bed. Blood rushes to my head, causing pressure to build up between my nose and eyes. I tip back further a little too far and grimace when my head smashes into the wood floor, making the room spin.
A shadow looms over my head. I groan again, sliding off the bed and toppling backwards over myself. It makes my head spin, but I regain my balance after a moment and run my hands through my hair. After I stuff my sleeping clothes into my bag, and adjust my sword on my hip I say, "Let's go then."
We drop off the keys at the front desk, which is deserted at the moment. I spare a glance back up the stairs at the rooms Lloyd's group is staying in before we leave. I hope everything goes like it's supposed to …
The cold morning air of the desert jolts me awake and as I follow Sheena up the steps my drowsiness begins to disappear. By the time we're at the gate I'm wide awake and dragging my feet through the sand as we make our way away from the city.
After ten minutes or so we've distanced ourselves enough and Sheena turns to look at me. I shrug my bag to the floor and unclasp my sword from my hip; I've done this each day in Sylvarant so far with Sheena — not in the morning, but our training have become more or less routine.
"Start!" As I've learned, though, Sheena is an absolute slave driver when it comes to training. At her cue I run at her. We start with me on offense and her on defense, but Sheena always changes in and out of offensive randomly, forcing me to be on guard the entire time. I punch forward but Sheena raises an arm to block it.
Quickly I fall back on my heels and twist my hips, kicking towards her leg in an attempt to send her to the ground. She sees it coming, though, and jumps in the air to avoid it. Before I can hop backwards Sheena has landed and is already sending a barrage of punches at me. I'm barely able to block the first few and I notice the fault in my defense a second too late and find her palm crushing into the side of my ribs.
Another thing about Sheena is that while she'll punch at me with fists, she only hits me with an open palm. If she thinks it'll actually impact with my body, she uses her palm rather than her knuckles. It's a kind gesture.
Wheezing I stumble back, gripping the area in pain. The place she punched is one of the areas that the chain mail is weaker; it is also one of the places I've been defending the most. She must've noticed.
"You alright?" She calls out when I don't immediately straighten back up. I wave my hand at her, taking a few more seconds to catch my breath like the weakling I am before standing straight. She simply nods, and I return to the offense and run at her again.
I send a sideways punch towards her left arm, turning and kicking towards the small opening left by the punch with my heel. She catches it with her palm and I swallow, feeling like time has suddenly slowed.
Out, out. I gotta get out this time. I can't let her smash me into the floor. Without really thinking I heft myself into the air and kick my other leg towards her hand. Risky, but it works. She releases my foot, blocking my other kick with the side of her arm. I see a gleam in her eyes and barely am able to duck below the sweeping kick — though I fall onto my butt as I slip in the sand. I swear I feel her foot swish through my hair; it seems I just barely avoided getting a foot jammed into my chest.
Sweat drips down my face as I scramble back up before I can get hit. Sheena is pouncing on me immediately, like a lion after its prey. My arms feel like jelly as I weakly bring them up to block her punch, though ultimately she is able to break through them in which I find her palm pressed sideways up against my throat.
"Dead," Sheena removes her hand and I crumple to my knees, breathing heavily. She's been hard before, but today ... so much worse. I hadn't even gotten a break besides the short, few seconds after being punched in the ribs.
Sand sticks to my wet legs. "D-Damn. I still suck," I moan, a bit irritated at myself. I know it's only been a few days, and I know she's going easy on me, but it's still hard to fail so badly over and over again. "When am I going to be able to last m-more than a minute?"
Sheena shrugs and waits for me to stand back up before speaking. "Lets try again."
I groan.
Thirty minutes later I'm coughing after getting kicked sideways into the sand, and I'm sure that there are at least a handful of bruises forming across my body. "Not fair," I croak, my words slurring a bit. Sheena had back flipped away from my own half assed, exhausted version of a hook kick and proceeded to send her own correct hook kick at me, nailing me in the side of the head.
"Crap," I hear her shuffle through the sand towards me as I struggle to push myself up. My head is throbbing. "Sorry, I didn't mean to hit so hard — are you alright?" She hovers nearby, kneeling by my side. I don't look at her face, too concerned with the pain to bother.
Grimacing I rub the spot, "I'm gonna be bruised," and hopefully not stuck with a concussion. Damn that had hurt ... I'm glad that I'm not going to be actually fighting against her.
Still the world isn't spinning when I stand up, so I'm guessing that I'm fine. I do feel a bit nauseous, though. "Backflips aren't fair; I don't even know how to do one."
Sheena blinks, before she raises a single eyebrow. "Can you do a front flip?"
I blink.
"Um, yeah. Or, I could the last time I tried? I-I mean, I can do it with a sword, and all ... "
She frowns. "Show me. It'll be bad if you are doing it incorrectly."
I grimace, but ultimately take a few steps back before running forward and launching myself into the air. The world spins for a moment before my feet hit the ground, hard. I barely stay standing.
"Hmm ... " Sheena narrows her eyes as I stand up. I wait for her to continue. "Well ... I guess since you seem to understand front flips, I could try teaching you a backflip?"
Wait, really? Holy shit — that would be awesome. I've always wanted to know how to do a backflip. "That would be so cool."
Sheena smiles a bit, shaking her head.
I practically skip over to the ninja, bubbling with excitement. My exhaustion seems to have disappeared. I know I won't be able to learn and master a backflip in a day, but still I'm actually going to learn how. Sheena lectures me for a minute on the dangers of improper form when doing a backflip but ultimately I barely pay attention to it in my excitement. Still I nod at the right times and chime in an, "I understand," when necessary.
"Alright ... so, I guess first you should really practice the jump itself." Sheena demonstrates the jump — starting straight up, jumping, whipping your arms over your head, and landing with your arms forward and your knees bent. She repeats the action two times more before showing me the actual flip and having me try.
I feel stupid doing the jump, though. Every time I swing my arms into the air I feel like those over dramatic kids in sitcom TV shows who throw a fit over everything and an eternity must pass before Sheena stops me and says to practice doing just the jump and practice pulling my knees back with her as my spotter. I feel even more stupid as she stands behind me and places her arms right below my armpits, which happens to be bare skin.
Sheena notices my discomfort. "No need to be uncomfortable; it's better than falling on your back."
Unfortunately she has a point.
Sheena tells me what to do; the jump from before plus pulling my knees back with me. I shudder but raise my arms while Sheena places her hands beneath my armpits. At her motion I breathe in deeply and swallow my fear ... and jump.
It feels like I'm falling.
Sheena's hands are like vice grips into my skin as I land. She makes me do it once more. Another time. A fourth time.
By the tenth time I'm starting to grow impatient and jittery from all the contact with her hands but thankfully that is where she stops me. "That's enough for now — we can work more with that later, you don't seem all that confident so far and you need to be absolutely sure before moving onto the full motion."
I nod. After doing half flips, I've become a bit anxious about doing it. Falling like that is scary. It feels like I'm going to slam the back of my head into the sand and each time my stomach twists up and I barely am able to get far enough back.
And so back to martial arts we go. Sheena has me practice my kicks with her in a stationary, pure defensive position; apparently my legs still need a bit more strength in them before I can land a good, solid kick. After minutes of mindlessly repeating the kicks she says to we move to punching practice.
My arms are too weak to do any damage according to Sheena, so rather then punching she has me doing things to strength my arms like push ups and planks. It's really hard to do in the sand though and the simple exercises, after sixty or seventy push ups and a few minutes of plank holding, make me feel like death.
Another fifteen minutes probably passes. We move onto our next area; it's the same routine as usual. Nothing new. Nothing different.
"I totally suck," I drone as we pick back up our bags. The sun is now higher in the sky and the heat is picking back up. I wish I had forced myself to eat that packaged bread.
"You'll get better."
And so we're off.