To become a Master swordsman (open)

[Milla Caranthyr]

LOCATION: Silvers Rest, lightsaber training room.


The steady hum of training sabers filled the air, occasionally broken by the sound of the weapons colliding and sometimes the yells of frustration or victory. This chorus of sound had been going on for the last several hours, was orchestrated by two individuals who had claimed the far corner of the training room. Well, claimed by one small padawan and a training droid.

Padawan and training droid both squared off for another round. Slowly they circled each other waiting for either one to strike or an opening to strike. The padawan's breathing was heavy, her body tired and sore. Small burn marks dotted her arms and clothes, reminders of her mistakes. Likewise, the droid was covered in them as well as proof that she was improving.

Milla gripped the long handled lightsaber in her sweaty hands. Her bare feet stepped carefully as not to cross each other so she wouldn't lose balance. The girl shifted her stance with each step to cover any openings. Sharp blue eyes never left her opponent as to do so would be fatal.

Without warning, the droid struck. The quick jab towards her torso was easily blocked but left no room to strike back. Milla shifted her weight and brought her saber back to swing from her right shoulder. As the droid lifted its blade up to block, Milla shifted her weight again. This time dropping the blade lower and using it like a claymore to hit the droids legs. There was no time to react to the sudden change and the droid took the full brunt across its knees before toppling to the floor.

"Pause training." The girl got out between ragged breaths. Not her best win, but it was one all the same. She deactivated her lightsaber and took several steps back to where her water was. The young girl needed a break to catch her breath and let her tired body rest. She had been at this for hours, even skipping a few other classes just to keep training. That definitely wouldn't make some of her teachers or caretaker happy. That was a cost she was willing to pay if she was to become a Master swordsman.


[member="Asaraa Vaashe"]

 

[Asaraa Vaashe]

You could never stop training, could never stop honing the edge you'd achieved otherwise it was all too easy to let yourself get dull. The lesson you learned were never lost, but it was all too easy to fall off that edge, to end up just a hair slower, a half-step out of place. It was the difference between a good fighter and a great one, the difference between life and death. It was funny in a way, Asaraa had faced Sith and Mandalorians, the very worst the galaxy had to offer in combat and never blinked, never thought twice about it.

It was only when she'd almost died that things change, that it was all put back into perspective for her, the danger of what they did, and her place within the galaxy. The funniest thing was it hadn't even been a fight that had pushed her there, she'd been supporting the others, but only the stubbornness of her friends had saved her in the end. The pink-haired Jedi never wanted to put anyone else into that situation, never wanted to worry her friends like that again.

So here she was, ready to push herself, to mantain that edge, to keep herself just sharp enough to handle, to defeat anything that she came up against. She could still remember the heft, teh danger of the Dark Sun as he rebuffed ehr attempt to piece his spell, the feeling of helplessness as the lightning spread across the planet. Her fingers clenched in the towel drapped around her neck, the fabric crumpling beneath her touch as she closed her eyes, sucking in and releasing a deep breath, calming and relaxing as she let the stress and anger she could feel building drop away as she flicked open the door...stepping into a scene of battle. Or a recently finished fight.

"Let me guess, the other guy looks worse?"

[member="Milla Caranthyr"]

 

[Milla Caranthyr]

The sound of the training room door opening almost caused Milla to jump. Sure she should have expected people to come in and out, but she was also skipping classes so she was half expecting a teacher or the den mother to walk through the door. Much to her relief, it was neither, rather a woman she had seen about the temple from time to time. Asaraa, was what she thought her name was.

Milla gave a hesitant smile when Asaraa asked if the other guy looked worse. She looked from the burn marks on her arms, to the droid and then back to Asaraa. "I think we're about even right now."

[member="Asaraa Vaashe"]

 

[Asaraa Vaashe]

"Ahhh, so you ascribe to the school of mututally assured destruction then I see."

An amused smirk played across Asaraa's lips as she crossed her arms over her chest, leaning in the doorway as she let her gaze flick over the young fighter and then the droid.

"I'd be careful about that though, even if you manage to win, if you can't walk away from the fight is it really a win?"

To be entirely fair, it wasn't like she hadn't had her fair of fights where she'd taken that approach too. she even had the scars to prove it, and to prove how much of a sadist her father was. Still, it had taught her to not get hit, which seemed like a lesson her young friend could maybe take advantage off as well.

"You know, next time you fight, you might try dodging and not getting hit. It might take longer, but you'll thank me in the long term."

[member="Milla Caranthyr"]

 

[Milla Caranthyr]

Mutually assured destruction. That was one way of putting Milla's combat style. The girl gave a sheepish grin and shifted her weight some. "No. Well...maybe. Depends on how bad you're hurt."

Dodging seemed simple enough, she was a fast child after all. Her main problem was the lightsabers themselves. Milla had no formal training like the rest of the padawans. Everything she knew she picked up from watching people or from the droid she was fighting. "I'll try. Although knknowing how to use a lightsaber might help to. I've never been properly trained."

[member="Asaraa Vaashe"]