Parting The Silk. The Dove Takes Flight. The Swallow Rides The Air.
Dancing from form to form, she moved around the room armed with her broom. She realised how ridiculous she must look, but being stranded in a cave in the middle of the sea did have its perks.
Water Flows Downhill. The River Undercuts The Bank. The Boar Rushes Downhill.
"What are you doing?" Ishamael asked her curiously, the smile obvious in his voice.
Startled, she almost threw the broom at him. "Bloody and ashes! My heart just skipped a couple of beats," she panted at him, dropping her makeshift weapon. "Do you have to appear like that without any sort of warning?" she asked him petulantly.
He chuckled softly. "Practicing sword forms with a broom. How… quaint."
"Well, I don't see any swords lying around," she said defensively. "Anyway, I'm just trying to pass the time. You've been gone for a while," she noted.
He studied her for a moment, considering. "Where did you learn this, pet? From a book?"
She nodded sharply, still annoyed at having been so rudely interrupted. And frightened out of her wits. "Yes, one of the older volumes with no cover. There were some images inside, and brief explanations to describe the forms." She shrugged lightly. "Although, truth be told, I don't understand why people use sword forms at all."
"What do you mean?" he asked, clearly confused.
"Well, if I'm fighting for my life, I would rather my opponent didn't know what I'm about to do. What I mean, I suppose, is that I thought it would be best to be unpredictable, to do whatever the other person doesn't expect, instead of countering each move with the most adequate form."
"You're a woman. You wouldn't understand. A duel is not just about winning. It's about tactics and strategy, about anticipating your enemy's moves and outsmarting him. It's also about being honourable. It used to be, anyway."
"You're right, I don't understand. Honestly, I don't care how I do it, as long as I get away with my life. What good is honour, if you're dead?"
"And that's exactly why there are so few female Blademasters," he stated with a smirk. Arguing with him was pointless. He always had the last word. She was about to shrug it off and pick up the broom when he went on. "In any case, you won't learn anything, armed with that," he pointed out. Before she had time to reply, he vanished. Rolling her eyes, she took a sip of water. Blasted man! She managed with what she had.
He came back a minute later, holding two swords. Smoothly, he presented her with the shortest one. "Try this," he told her. "If you're going to learn, you might as well get used to a decent weapon, to provide adequate balance," he went on. "This is a yatagan."
It was a beautiful artefact, she had to admit. The hilt was rather plain, but the blade was single-edged and slightly curved, and it shone with a bright violet-blue hue. "It's cute," she told him, knowing it would annoy him.
It did. "Cute?" he scoffed. "It's a blade, girl, not a puppy. It's designed to kill people. How do you get 'cute' from that?"
"I think it's the colour," she told him with a grin.
He shook his head in irritation. "It's Power-wrought. It was enhanced by both saidar and saidin during the War of Power. The Talent used to create such weapons was lost long ago, unfortunately. It was called 'Aligning the Matrix'. It was used at an atomic level to–"
"You've lost me," she interrupted smoothly. Matrix? Atomic? What does that even mean?
He sighed deeply. "I forget how ignorant you are of these things." He waved dismissively. "It matters not. This weapon was named Tsorovan – storm, lightning bolt – for the colour of its blade as well as the speed with which it can be handled. As you've no doubt noticed, it's very light. I believe it was intended for a woman." He positioned himself in front of her. "Go on. Attack me," he said, gesturing with his blade.
She stared at him incredulously. "Attack you? Are you insane? I've only ever whirled around the room with a broom, I'm no match for you!" she said with a mounting certainty that he was making fun of her.
"Of course I'm insane. Surely you know this by now," he stated flatly. "That's hardly the point. You need an opponent if you're to learn anything."
"But–"
"Trust your instincts. Training is only part of what makes a true Blademaster. You seem to have decent reflexes. Now you have a decent weapon. Go on," he repeated, shifting his feet slightly, positioning himself.
Inhaling deeply, she focused on him. Striking The Spark. It seemed fitting, considering the name of the blade.
They went on for some time, Ishamael spending most of it easily deflecting her attacks. Once in a while he called out to her, giving advice. At one point, in the beginning, he told her to stop altogether to reposition her grip on the hilt of her sword. He was a good teacher, patient and constructively critical.
Finally she raised a hand, pleading for a break. She was panting hard, sweat trickling down her back and covering her face. "Enough, you're killing me," she said haltingly, half-sitting, half-falling down in a chair.
He wasn't sweating, of course. He looked as pristine as ever in his close-fitting clothes of unrelieved black. Burn him, she thought. She winced. No, not that. Light help me, never again. "Tired already, pet?" he asked with a smug grin. "Youth is wasted on the young."
She sighed dramatically. "May I remind you that you've had three thousand years of training, whereas I just started a few weeks ago? Not to mention that I learned all this from a book. And practiced with a broom," she finished wryly.
This time he let out a hearty laugh. "I'm just teasing, pet. You're not half-bad, for an uncouth primitive of this Age," he added, eyes twinkling. "With a little practice, proper practice, you may even become decent."
"Does that mean you're going to keep practicing with me?" she asked hopefully. She wasn't sure what good it would do – she would never become a match for him – but at least it would keep him occupied. And what time he spent doing that was time he wasn't spending on destroying the world - or whatever it was he was doing.
"I might. A little exercise never hurt anyone," he replied thoughtfully. "You would have to keep training even when I'm not around, however, if only to improve your stamina," he added with a grin.