HI All,
Thank you for being very very patient while I was out and about. My events (there were a couple, spaced out over a few weeks and all required my entire focus and attention) are over and I am back. Thank you to everyone who has left a review - it is very inspiring and helpful when I'm stuck, so a million thank you's.
-Stormy
Yasuo took a deep breath and held it in his chest until his lungs protested and pleaded for air. He ignored it. The pain and the urgency were under his control and in a way, it felt like penitence. He clenched his hand in frustration, suddenly missing Yone - Yone was the one that who a way with words, and an even temperament that charmed all those around him. What would Yone have said? What would Yone have done instead?
Yone would have known what to do.
He let out a ragged breath and punched his fist into the plain and spartan wall of the training room. The pain felt good, although he was dimmly aware that his hand would be bruised the next day. So be it, he thought darkly. Regret and guilt still won over his emotions, even over a year later. He could taste it like a coating in his mouth, thick and deeply bitter and carried with it soul-crushing guilt. Understand that I didn't have the luxury of a choice. He sent the silent prayer to the sky, uncaring if the ever present wind would direct it to the right soul. The storm of his emotions swirled around him.
Why are you unforgiven, she had finally asked, not a few hours earlier.
She played chess the same way - making a simple move, seemingly straightforward, but carried with it a thousand implications and paths to her real intent. He was starting to be able to intuit which implications and paths were important to her and which she disregarded to gain the upper hand. Starting to, to glimpse the inner workings of her mind, the only other soul he could consider as a friend or companion; could he still? They never finished that match, she hadn't make her move - or did she, with her question?
He should have seen the trap and sensed the hostile wind hovering and circling them. And the unbidden image to his mind from her notes: two forms of concern, green lenses glinting in the muted light, and then the sensation of doubt and curiosity. He should have stayed level-headed, especially when she herself was uncharacteristically off-kilter. He should have realized that it was more than idle curiosity spurring her question.
'Should' never does much good now, he thought grimly as he unsheathed his sword and fell into the familiar paces of the sword forms. His blade cut cleanly through the air - cleaving invisible enemies and fending off imaginary threats. This was known, comfortable and stable ground: him verses enemies.
Yasuo imagined Yone facing him, his steps quickening and his pulse accelerating. Yone always seemed to know his next step, pushing him to try harder to find or make an opening. The sound of his panting filled his ears as his sword flickered with the speed and urgency he pushed upon himself. Yone's smirking and concerned face filling his vision, Pride will be your downfall.
Prophecy or prediction? Yasuo slashed and Yone parried casually, in the languid form he seemed to have mastered.
Be honest now, Yone's voice filtered through his awareness, the languid form dropping suddenly to pure intent. Why did you snap at her, what did she do to deserve the anger?
The anger? Your anger, Yasuo corrected himself, twisting as he thrust his sword out, briefly, before recoiling and flowing into the next form.
Yone, imaginary, smirked condescendingly. Quit stalling.
Yasuo didn't answer, opting to concentrate on pacing himself through the advanced form. His opponent, Yone, shifted in response, meeting strike for strike and pushing forward aggressively so that Yasuo had no other option than to respond in kind, parrying instead of aggressing.
Because I thought... Because I wanted...
Truthfully now. Yone demanded, pressing faster and harder. Or he would have, if the sword Yasuo held in concentration hadn't ended his life early.
"No," Yasuo grunted aloud as he pushed himself, his practice looking raw and deadly. Less dance, although he was the sole practitioner in the training room, but fluid and quick - his sword and the wind extensions of him.
Still unwilling to admit your faults? Yone taunted.
Yasuo slowed a breath, his sword faltering briefly. Dead, he chanted to himself as a reminder, picking up his pace and slipping to a reactive form. The repetition was comforting although the mental aspect was less than comfortable.
Because I thought I was past it. I wanted to be past it. It was starting… I was starting to feel comfortable. Yasuo clenched his free fist but revealed no other manifestation of his silent admission. I thought she ….
You can't escape the past. Yone reminded.
… was immune to the poison of Ionian sentiments. Yasuo finally admitted. And I lashed out with the disappointed realization. I was so eager to have a companion to share words and thoughts…
What do you do now? Yone questioned, easing up from the aggression at the truth and Yasuo transitioned into another form, this one easier, less demanding.
"Fix it," Yasuo breathed aloud, mind sending back to recall the images unearthed from her notes, imagining a faint look of approval in Yone's eyes. Spinning, he flowed into another form, his sword more stable and secure in his grasp.
"What can I do for you, my dear boy?" Summoner Eiko exclaimed, looking delighted to see the tall and solitary form of Yasuo knocking at his open door.
"I brought a thank you," Yasuo said softly, taking the summoner's welcome as his cue to enter. He felt a bit self-conscious holding the package, simply wrapped in brown paper and tied with string.
"Ah, so polite you are," Summoner Eiko nodded approvingly, "although it is not necessary, it is very much appreciated."
Yasuo nodded, disregarding the polite words to deposit the parcel on table. "Are you well," Yasuo asked solicitously, recalling that the last time they met, the Summoner was preoccupied and seemed distracted.
"Please sit," the elderly Summoner gestured at an open seat, smiling. "I was summoned to Piltover with short notice, and have recently just returned."
Yasuo seated himself across from Summoner Eiko and nodded again, feeling at a loss for words. It wasn't the same as with the petite musician, for both were comfortable with silence. "I didn't know what you liked," Yasuo tried, "so I had them put in a bit of each." He paused and shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "It's from an Ionian teahouse I'm acquainted with." Yasuo finished lamely as Summoner Eiko grinned.
"Thank you, dear boy," Summoner Eiko said sincerely. "So how are you settling in?"
Yasuo hesitated trying to find the right words. "I seem to have earned the ire of the Ionians." He answered truthfully.
Eiko tilted his wrinkly head and surveyed the lone warrior with surprisingly kind and intense eyes. "Did you expect differently?"
Yasuo shrugged, answering after a pause. "I thought it would be easier to kill the true murderer."
Summoner Eiko didn't bother to ask for the true murderer; it was obvious to him that Yasuo preferred to his interactions with others to be mostly at arms' length. "There are rules about." He turned a stern eye to Yasuo. "You know the consequences, as does all other Champions. The Institute may host rivalries, but only during sanctioned matches."
The warrior nodded briefly, a wry smile touching his lips. "It may perhaps have been better for me to have known that before I joined," he replied with some honesty.
Summoner Eiko paused to take a breath, "The whole purpose of this place is to promote inter-continent peace."
"Perhaps that message missed a few folks," Yasuo stated dryly.
The Summoner chuckled at the joke. "The Ionians you mean?"
Yasuo shrugged once again, not bothering to deny it.
"We Ionians are proud, as you know. Caring more for our honor and our sense of justice than perhaps our common sense." Summoner Eiko paused to rub his ear. "In some ways, we are just as bad or as worse as the Demacians in our unyielding nature."
"So what do we do to find our balance?" Yasuo queried.
"Certainly not with the methods of the Kinkou Order, at least anymore," Summoner Eiko muttered before wincing. "That was in poor taste; I apologize."
Yasuo blinked and looked with a puzzled expression at the summoner.
"Ah, but you do not know," Eiko exclaimed in amazement. "So isolated you are." A sudden frown crossed his wizened expression. "But why is that still?"
Yasuo cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably under Summoner Eiko's scrutiny. "I was hoping to ask of you some advice."
Eiko hid a pleased smile, waving a hand for him to continue. This seemed to be a large step of trust for the swordsman.
"How best could I learn about the other Champions?"
HI All,
As always, I appreciate feedback, even of the "I'm not sure you understand how chess and swords works" variety.
Also - Romance this?
Please let me know what you think.
- Stormy