BladeSong
By : Ryu Niiyama
Paring: Rayya/Female Dragonborn
She nodded to the guards as she passed through the gate, heading towards her home right outside the city of Falkreath. Her family had served the Jarl as housecarl for four generations, but she had yet to be assigned a Thane to serve. Still, she would remain diligent, after all someone had to keep safe the watch fires of the family. She frowned then sighed, feeling her thoughts were unfair towards her younger brother Saabir who was following in the ways of the Ra Gada, traveling through the deserts of Hammerfell. She worried for him constantly, knowing that this war would not make it easy for him to travel freely and yet she knew she had to have faith in him. They were warriors, having held swords in their hands as they nursed from their mother's breasts and she had been a strict blademistress, demanding that they become living weapons. Her brother would be fine she decided, for if his sword didn't save him, his big mouth would.
Smiling, she removed her outer armor, wanting to be free of the heavy steel so that she could move unimpeded. Placing the steel upon a nearby tree stump, the warrior drew her twin scimitars and began her training. Thrust, counter-swipe, leap back, guard, she flowed through the patterns as she had for every day of her life since she was four winters old. She felt herself drift away, the weight of her blades becoming one with her body. Her blades curved and slashed and she could feel the weight of the air around her as her senses honed themselves to a point. Here she was in a paradise of the mind, a place where only she and her blades existed.
"Swallow's Strike? Your left arm is too high though."
The words shattered her blissful state of martial focus and she whipped around, shoulders heaving as she took in the intruder. The woman sat upon a large white warhorse, the creature pawing the ground and throwing her head regally. As for the rider she was garbed traveling robes from head to toe, with a rain hat that covered her eyes. Annoyed by the arrogance of this stranger, she leveled her blades at the woman in challenge.
"-Who are you to interrupt my training?!"
The woman chuckled and dismounted smoothly from the horse. Patting her flank affectionately, the woman drew two swords from the side of the mare and sent her off to graze. The warrior narrowed her eyes as she watched the woman fit the blades into her belt with a warrior's familiarity before she drew the well-oiled blades and twirled them in hand. The blades were unusual, they were thin and curved much like her scimitars but they had only a fraction of the width. As beautiful as the blades were, they would snap like twigs under the weight of her own weapons. This would be a short lesson then. Yet the ease with which the woman moved, as if she was not aware of her impending defeat, made the warrior grow wary.
"I'm just a traveler with bad luck… but if you don't mind?"
The warrior snorted at the woman's voice, muffled but jovial and she waited until the woman was within appropriate distance. "You'll regret your arrogance, traveler…have at you!" The warrior moved forward like lightning and flowed like air, ready to take this impudent traveler down only to be surprised as her momentum was redirected and deflected with skill. The warrior's deep brown eyes narrowed and she assessed her challenger more intently. The woman was tall, taller than the average Imperial or Breton and she was certain she was not dealing with one of the betmer since she didn't see a tail. Likely a Mer or Nord, then, yet the power and athleticism the challenger displayed was more in line with a Redguard or an Orsimer. From what she could tell from the challenger's mask the woman was likely not Orsimer as the mask didn't protrude with the impressions of tusks. An abnormally tall Redguard perhaps? The warrior ducked a swipe and parried a second one and she frowned as she realized that while the challenger was using her own style, she was incorporating text book movements as well.
'Leki's Feint, Wave Thrust, Gaiden's Repose…' The warrior cataloged the moves, impressed but confused all the same. The Redguard movements were too flashy, as if the challenger wanted to call attention to them, for when they faded away the true danger of her skill asserted itself. The warrior parried another two blows before she found herself completely on the defensive, unable to get any leverage edge wise. This was no average traveler; she could smell the tang of sword oil and hear the soft clinking of mail beneath the traveler's robes. The warrior was good but this challenger was much better and she felt her blood begin to sing. How she had longed for such a match! How she had yearned to sharpen her skills with more than just bandits and thieves she felt the rush of battle claim her, singing joyfully to her heart and she pushed back with greater ferocity.
The challenger seemed to notice her effort and joy for the basic, blocky movements vanished entirely from her attacks and she began to move as if she were composing a ballad of death. The warrior held her own for as long as she could, but she was beginning to tire while the challenger seemed fresh still. Torso heaving with exertion, she crossed her blades in a guard as the challenger locked hilts with her and for a moment of exquisite balance and strength they were evenly matched. Time stood still as they shared the same breath, and the warrior longed to see the challenger's eyes. Surely she was as invigorated? Surely her spirit leapt and sang at their battle as well and she struggled to keep a macabre grin from tugging at her lips.
The moment shattered as the challenger lowered one blade with a metallic hiss down tighter against the hilts of the warrior and raised her other blade higher, not breaking contact but setting the warrior's blades off balance. With a flick of her lower wrist she partially turned the blades downwards while the upper hand began to rotate up and out. In a split second, the warrior realized what would happen but it would be too late to counter. Her guard was broken as both hilts were pushed down and to the side while the challenger turned into the now attacking hand that had followed her blades up until they had dropped only to arc up and down to place the blade against her neck.
Swallow's Strike.
She'd been felled by the very move that the traveler had commented on from the start. Blinking sweat from her eyes, the warrior stood still and only their harsh breathing filled the air between them. "Who are you?" The warrior implored, heedless of the sharp blade that hovered near her pulse. The traveler chuckled softly and the warrior's ears twitched as she focused on the soothing, velvet sound. "I told you, just a traveler with bad luck." The warrior wanted to snarl in frustration but she couldn't make the traveler tell her anything else, especially when she'd lost the battle between them. The warrior cursed that she still couldn't see the traveler's eyes after all that had transpired between them, the rain hat angled low and firmly fixed upon her head. Even with her shorter stature, the warrior couldn't overcome the way the challenger had angled her body and with the blade at her neck she couldn't move very much as is.
"Very well, I yield."
The traveler had to be a Redguard, she was sure of it. The fighting style for one, power and grace and practical economical movements to prolong endurance, was nothing short of the movements of a Sword Saint. The other was the obvious respect for Redguard training principles. The challenger had attacked her with live blades from the start, respecting that Redguards always trained with steel and never with wood unless one was learning draw techniques. Also no battle between a Redguard was over until the other yielded or lay dead. In the strictest adherence to Redguard battle tradition even a training match had the potential to be as deadly as one on the battlefield.
Immediately, the traveler moved back and sheathed her blades, waiting for the warrior to do the same before she bowed lightly in response. The warrior returned the bow and she wiped at the sweat upon her brow, still trying to control her wildly beating heart. "Please friend, stay let me offer you refreshment after that match. My name is Rayya. It is an honor to cross blades with one so skilled." The traveler held up a gloved hand and shook her head softly. "Thank you for the offer, but I interrupted your training. The fault is mine. I did want to know if I was on the right road to Falkreath however…I got a bit turned around and all these trees look the same to me." The fearsome challenger seemed to draw in upon herself and grow sheepish and that soft response in addition to her manners turned the broiling bloodlust within Rayya's veins to gentle curiosity. The blade sings the truth of a person, and Rayya ached to know more about this traveler that seemed to wield strong blades and a kind heart. It also had not escaped her that the traveler still refused to give her name. For now she would let the traveler have her secrets as she turned and pointed the way to Falkreath.
"Yes, you are not far now, just a league further down that path."
"Thank you Lady Rayya."
Rayya blushed, her mahogany skin gaining a soft cherry undertone and she wondered how long had it been since she'd been called such within the land of her birth. It was rare, even among the nicer Nords and Imperials and she warmed to hear such manners. "Your blademaster trained you well, blade dancer. Please, I implore you, a name…even the name of your blademaster, but I must know the name of woman that has defeated me so handily."
The traveler chuckled softly and Rayya of Falkreath felt that sound travel warmly up her spine. "You slight your own skill needlessly, Lady Rayya, but the only name I may leave you with is, Nadira." Nadira, a Redguard name for a blade dancer of incredible skill; how Rayya yearned to see her face in this moment, but the tall woman seemed intent on hiding her identity. "Please, Lady Nadira I realize that your travels call you elsewhere but if possible would you return before you leave Falkreath hold?" The taller woman nodded and Rayya tried to ignore the warmth that bubbled within her at the sight.
"When do you take your morning training?" Rayya tried not to appear eager at the question, but her quick answer betrayed her. "Two hours before dawn." Nadira chuckled again and shook her head in amusement. "Then, I shall see you tomorrow, Lady Rayya. Peace and strength to you."
"The same to you."
Rayya watched as the tall woman gave a wave and then turned and headed towards the road. With a sharp whistle, she summoned her mare and mounted the snow white creature with ease. Waving again, Nadira spurred the mare on towards Falkreath. Smiling, Rayya removed her head covering and walked to the nearby well. Removing her blades so that they would be protected, the warrior hauled up the water bucket and poured it over her head and body. As the soothing water splashed against her skin she thought again of the blade dancer she'd faced and she found herself grinning jubilantly.
"Nadira…I look forward to crossing blades with you again."
As usual this features my standard Dragonborn, Nadira.
R Niiyama
4/2020