zg_shadows | Conflicts.

Shadow was stripped to the waist, his lean body covered in a thin sheen of sweat as he worked through the drills. Stands-Ready had shown him the basics of this style but he couldn't quite grasp the concepts.

Swing, retract, feint then thrust, a simple combination of moves that should have left Sulien nursing a sore wrist and a dropped staff. Instead all he'd thus far managed to do was catch her shoulder a few times.

"Damnit, if this was a broken bottle I'd have no trouble cutting her," he thought to himself, his feet hurrying backwards as Sulien's staff hummed just past his nose. Sending a rather desperate thrust towards her face, he regained his balance as she stepped back herself to ward off the blow.

As he traded blows back and forth with Sulien, Shadow began to see a pattern forming. The staff combined the reach of a bar stool with a far quicker recovery; more akin to half a pool cue. As the lessons Michael had given him began to sink in, the staff began to feel more natural in his grasp. A flurry of blows later and he finally got Sulien to drop her staff. Flashing her a cheeky grin he yelled, "Now your turn on the attack!"

Sulien nudged her toe under the staff and flicked it back into her hand, moving with supernatural swiftness into an attack posture. In the humid heat beneath the Caern's permanent cloud cover she wore only a black sports bra and shorts, but they had been practicing so long that even this light clothing was soaked with the sweat that trickled down her bare midriff over two long, ridged scars.

"You're doing well," she said evenly, between breaths, and Shadow felt a familiar strengthening of his will at the praise. "Half speed," she added as she brought her staff across for the first blow.

Disconcerted by the sudden slowness, Shadow's initial block was slightly too high. He started to shift his grip, struggling with himself not to make the lightning-quick movements he was accustomed to fighting with, and Sulien's staff slid under his and tapped his abdomen, too lightly to trigger his Rage.

Shadow glared back at her.

"This isn't fair," he complained. "This forced control isn't my way."

"You're right," Sulien agreed. "Deal with it."

Shadow squared his shoulders, and forced himelf to concentrate, his instincts screaming at him to lunge, make a lightning fast movement that was sure to pierce Sulien's defences. Instead he made a gracefully deceptive manoevre, bringing the staff round in what appeared to be a downward slash, but as Sulien raised her staff high, a dextrous flick of the wrist sent the lower half moving towards Sulien's legs.

Shadow grinned to himself, he was getting the hang of the forced control but still his instincts were screaming at him to finish this. He then realised it wasn't so much his instincts as King sitting on the sidelines urging him on. Shadow flicked his eyes towards King and gave him a questioning look and turned back to see that Sulien had not only gotten back on her feet but had time to send her staff rushing towards his head. The blow sent him reeling and he looked up fiercely at Sulien as he swallowed the Rage with an act of will as he remembered her earlier praise.

Sulien regarded him with an unreadable expression. "Now we'll try it your way," she said evenly, stepping back a pace to give him room. "No holds barred." She raised her staff into a defensive posture and calmly waited.

Shadow paused, and stared at Sulien. Her face was as unreadable as always and her body showed no indication of her intent. He threw himself at her, a fierce flurry of blows, most of which she countered with apparently effortless ease. The few that did slip through were robbed of all their strength by her defence. He growled in frustration and marshalled his rage, his hands blurring as he moved the staff. Still Sulien denied him and her passive face, with barely a grunt of effort registering, infuriated him. As his frustration grew he felt his form start to flow and his form shifted up to that of Glabro, the throwback. Sulien took a step backwards to cope with the now higher blows raining down upon her, letting out an explosive breath as she took a bruising blow to the shoulder in the process. Another broke through her guard, leaving a raised red welt across her torso.

As Shadow pressed his advantage Sulien stepped unexpectedly forward, not even attempting to deflect the jab to the shin that now thudded into her thigh instead. Moving too quickly for Shadow to react, she brought her own staff down hard on his unprotected wrist.

The blow was not quite hard enough to numb his fingers as Sulien had intended, but it jarred his hand just enough that the sweat-slick wood twisted in his grasp. In the same super-fast movement Sulien whipped round and kicked the staff, and it flew out of his hand to land in the long grass, yards away. She slipped out under his arm and came up again into the attack position, her expression giving nothing away.

"Better?" she asked evenly.

Shadow stood panting, not even moving to regain the staff that lay a few feet from him. Rage and frustration battled with tiredness and he felt the sting of failure. Then a thought struck him; it didn't matter what happened, he was still here, he could try again, and again, and again, for however long it took. He started to snigger, and as he looked into Sulien's impassive face it grew into an uncontrollable laugh.

"You know, Sulien? It doesn't matter. I've fought my hardest and I still lost but it doesn't matter. I'm still here, I can still try again, I can't lose like this."

A bright grin crossed his face at Sulien's brief flicker of confusion.

"I think I'm begining to get it, how King really works. Sometimes it doesn't matter whether you win or lose, what matters is how you fight and why. I fought you, I fought your way, I fought mine, but what matters is I tried. It's like the Kin, sure I lost some and I mourn their passing, but at the end of the day, I fought when others wouldn't."

Shadow relaxed his muscles and slid back into Homid, the ragged bruises fading as his body healed itself at an impossible rate. Sometimes being a Metis had its advantages too.

Sulien looked at him for a moment then turned away, walking across to where his staff had fallen, limping slightly from the blow to her leg. She picked it up and tossed it to him.

"Go shower," she told him as his hand closed around the smooth wood. "And Shadow? Pick your fights."

"You know Sulien, I think I always do," he said jauntily over his shoulder as he walked away.

Sulien watched him go, her face drawn for a moment in a look of raw pain. Once he was out of sight she threw her own staff to the ground. "Shit," she swore. For a few moments she stood still, staring at the ground, her eyes distant. Then she set her jaw, picked up the weapon again, and continued to train.

In the Umbra, King looked up from his washing to stare at Sulien for a moment, then with a flick of his tail he stalked off after Shadow.

---------

Later that day

"Are you sure, King?" Shadow looked at his friend, slightly puzzled.

"Yeah I'm sure. She was unhappy. She's hiding something, something really painful."

Shadow looked thoughtfully at King for a moment and sighed.

"I think you're right. I guess I didn't want to see it, but all the signs were there."

Shadow thought back to all the times Sulien had done little things for him but had refused to show any emotion. He'd seen that once before; in his father just after his mother had been killed. All those times he'd been so impassive, refusing to engage the world - and when he did, it was with that same set look he'd seen on Sulien's face.

Shadow sighed deeply. This wasn't going to be easy. After all, Sulien was his mentor, the one person he felt he could trust to steer him in the right direction. If she needed help, shouldn't someone wiser than him do it?

King looked at him disapprovingly, as if he could read his thoughts.

"Ok, ok, I'll do it, no need to remind me. Be brave, be noble, be happy and most of all, be there when you're needed. I remember my pledge to you, old friend, and I'll honour it no matter what."

Shadow stood up, and threw on his usual clothes that had been drying on the radiator. He wondered briefly whether he should get Thinks Twice to dedicate him a new set, but after all these years they felt almost a part of him. The long sleeved grey top was thin enough to not overheat him much, the jeans were heavily patched and repaired and the trainers had definately seen better days but all in all they were still functional.

He turned to leave, and caught a familiar scent in the air. A faint pang tugged at his heart as he remembered - but he squared his shoulders and carried on.

That could wait, he thought to himself. After all, he had someone to help.