Roleplay Forums > Canelux > Throat of the Moon > Highlands > How It All Begins [P][R]
Malati

Character Info
Name: Malati
Age: 20
Alignment: TG
Race: Tiefling
Gender: Female
Class:
Silver: 266
Four Years Ago…

Malati cast her eyes, red with the memory of tears, towards the upward slope of the Highlands. She had spent her entire life in the foothills with her mother, and she had never felt any desire to move further upland. The rumors of monsters, ancient evils, and foul magicks hadn’t even come into it, though her mind lingered over them now that she stood at the edge of the woods. And now here she was, about to travel through them.

Her tail, a soft red like the rest of her skin, swished behind her in a physical manifestation of her anxiety. She turned her head to look over her shoulder, back towards the small house where she’d lived with her mother. It was far enough away already that she could not really see it, except in her mind’s eye, but just looking towards it was enough.

She felt the tears beginning to start again as she realized she was not sure when she’d see her mother again. But she held herself straighter, and kept them from spilling down her face once more. Her mother had sent her here because of what she’d done to those villagers’ kids. They had certainly deserved it, and Malati knew she’d thump them again in a heartbeat. You don’t hurt others just because you can. Of course if she was going to make that choice, she had to be okay with the consequences of that action.

And in this case, the consequences of that action were being sent off to train in patience and discipline with some stuffy old monk in the woods. For two years.

Gods above, she thought as she ran a hand over the ridges of one of her curling ram-like horns. Two years with some old woman who lives by herself in the woods everyone says is home to witches. She let out a breath with a shudder. Malati was willing to pay the price, she really was, but in what world did it make sense for someone to be punished for doing the right thing? The world was truly cruel and unfair place.

Malati turned her head back to the path before her, then towards where she’d set down her few possessions during her rest. The motion caused her left horn to get caught on a low hanging branch. “Seriously?!” she growled angrily as she struggled to free herself from the awkward situation. 

At not quite 16 years old, Malati was on the shorter side and gangly in the way of a teenager who was mostly, but not completely, grown. Her round face contorted in a look of frustration and concentration as she struggled to free herself the tree’s branch. “Come on,” she pleaded with the branch as she tried to disentangle herself. “Come free you stupid…,” she growled before she decided to just rip a portion of the branch free from the tree before untangling the rest of it. It had somehow managed to not only catch her horn, but become twisted in her shoulder length, midnight purple hair. She was not sure where ‘midnight purple’ had come from, but it was her favorite descriptor for the color of her hair.

Tossing the offending plant away, she muttered a few choice curses to the branch. Shooting it one final glare before she walked over to her pack, she was careful to keep away from any other snags. She did not have much with her besides the clothes on her back and a few trinkets. And her gift of course. A smile crept across her face, pushing up her cheeks in a way that annoyed her but her mother seemed to love. The gift was from her, a 16th birthday gift, given to her just a few days ago, early since she would be spending her 16th birthday with a stranger. A light glaive her mother called it.

Her mother was a warrior who settled down to raise her five year old daughter after the passing of her husband, Malati’s father. Vasa knew how to use just about every weapon under the sun, and probably a few that were only found underground too. Malati did not quite inherit that skill. Her mother was a very tall woman, over a foot taller than Malati, broad shouldered, and her arms and legs were layered in muscles Malati could only dream of. The weapons she had were not well suited to her smaller, leaner daughter. 

But that never stopped Malati from working hard to learn from her mother. And Vasa had always said that Malati had good instincts, just not the height or build for the polearms she seemed to favor. So it came as such a pleasant and wonderful surprise when Vasa presented her the custom made light glaive. It looked like a glaive, but with a shorter staff, and a thinner, lighter blade. It was perfect. It was the reason the two of them had gone into the village the day she’d beaten up those idiot teenagers.

Malati pushed that part of the memory away, focusing on the beautiful weapon her mother had given her. She would need to name it one day. But it was a birthday gift, and her birthday was still a couple weeks away, it would be truly hers then. She would name it once it was really hers. 

Free from the branch, Malati moved over to the gift and her pack, and lifted them back into their places before she started into the forest. She needed to find this Jyeir and get these two years over and done with.
Jyeir

Character Info
Name: Jyeir
Age:
Alignment: CE
Race: Half Elf
Gender: Female
Class:
Silver: 262
As a child…

Sharp eyes watched the hustle and bustle of the crowded streets as the Traders set up their market stalls; calling out their deals or singing them to attract customers to buy their wares. Slowly the waif of a child slipped from the shadow of the alley, joining the natural flow of those who had come to Market Day to stock their cupboards or buy materials to complete their own work.
No one even blinked an eyelid at the dirty little child in her tattered clothes - she was just another street urchin, another waif cast aside because she wasn’t worth anything, in the city they were ten a penny and no one gave them much thought. Most would find a quiet corner to beg on; throwing themselves on the mercy of the kindness of strangers - there were a decent few of these in the city given it’s numbers and though the children were clearly malnourished they were not quite starving at least… well… all but she.

You see the difference between these others orphans and Jyeir was one quite obvious fact - they were all Elven or all Human (though the latter was on the lesser side given Humans weren’t well liked in the Elvish city) where Jyeir was neither one nor the other in the eyes of the city… she was a half Elf, created by an unholy and unwelcome union between the two races - called Halfling by those that realised her heritage, the word used as a dirty slur for the fact that she was little more than a mongrel in the eyes of the pure Elves.
She had been abandoned by her mother on the doorsteps of the orphanage as a babe - she neither knew her mother nor her father nor did she know the circumstances for how she had come to be; the Priests and Priestesses that had run the orphanage when she had been abandoned had been reluctant to keep her at all but their faith had forced their hands. No kindness was found in her first few years and even less when she grew up enough to understand her lot in life; as a babe and a toddler she had been given some leniances as she had no idea who nor what she was but as soon as she was old enough to understand… well… things had only got worse.
Jyeir had run away from the orphanage; taking her chances on the streets was preferable to remaining there and continuing to suffer at the hands of those who hated her for how she had been born - none of it was her fault and yet she had always been made to feel as if it was…

Her keen eyes watched the traders through the bustling crowds and she made a break for one of the stalls; hand darting out to snatch an apple from one and a loaf of bread from another before she threw her lean body sideways, head down, food clutched to her flat chest as she heard the cries of the traders screaming for her to come back with their merchandise. She would do no such thing of course; she was hungry, she needed to fill her empty belly and since no comfort could be found in strangers she would look after herself.
She could feel hands grasping for her but she was too quick and too slight to get a hold of and before anyone could truly get a grip on her Jyeir was away from them; disappearing into the darkness of the nearest alleyway and slipping into the smallest recesses of the city that others could not reach. This was the biggest meal she had caught for herself in well over a month but she knew better than to wolf it all down now… she would need to spread out her prize if she was going to continue to survive…

As a teenager…

If ever there was an argument for nature vs nurture Jyeir was it - the once sweet young girl had been swiftly hardened by the nature of her existence; shunned, cast aside, ridiculed and ostracised the only person Jyeir had ever trusted was herself and now that she was a teenager she had become the very thing they accused her of being - a disgusting, filthy half-breed that brought nothing but trouble… was that because it was in her nature or because they had driven her there? Jyeir knew which option she would have picked even if the rest of the city would not agree with her.
Sitting atop the roof of one of the buildings overlooking the market square Jyeir’s eyes flickered over the stalls - quickly assessing which of them she could pick off with the least chance of trouble or danger to herself. Over the years she had been caught several times and while she had been punished no one had ever pushed it far enough to kill her - they had seen it as some kind of mercy but Jyeir knew better… they enjoyed hurting her and blaming her for the wrongs in their city - if she was dead they would realise that it was due to their own corruption rather than her existence and they could not have that could they?

She hated them. Every last living one of them. If she could have got out of the city she would have done but not before she had set fire to the whole rotten place. She wouldn’t regret it; there would be no remorse in their deaths, she would ride away from this place and watch the city burn with a smile upon her face… but until such time as she felt confident enough to steal a horse and get away from this wretched city she needed to feed herself.
Moving away from the edge of the roof Jyeir slid down into the alley below, keeping an eye on the crowds as she caught sight of her target – the baker’s stall tended to be the easiest to rob at this time of the morning because all the mothers came to buy their baked goods first thing in order to feed their families meaning that she could slip amongst them and snatch a loaf for herself while they were busy finding themselves the best breads.

As a crowd of such women came passed her Jyeir slid amongst them, making herself small (an easy feat given her malnourished frame and petite stature) so that they did not take any notice of her as they hurried to the baker. The smell of the freshly baked goods hit Jyeir hard and she fought against the angry rumble of her empty stomach; the sharp stabbing pains of starvation acute now that she could smell the food. Mouth watering in anticipation Jyeir hurried towards the stall with the crowd of women; hand darting out to grab at a loaf hanging on the very edge of the table… only to feel a hand clasp her wrist tightly, pulling her from within her safe place within the crowd and out into the open.
Screaming in indignation Jyeir kicked out at her assailant as he wrenched her arm upwards and dragged her clear off her feet. Her natural instinct to fight back kicked in as she used her free hand to grab his arm; pulling her fragile looking frame up so that she could sink her teeth into his thick forearm, clenching her jaw tightly as his blood poured into her mouth. The man roared angrily and flicked her away from him, slamming her into a nearby wall and momentarily stunning the girl.

Scrambling dizzily to her feet Jyeir shook her head as she crouched low; eyes darting back and forth as she looked for the quickest way out of the situation only to find large hands tightening around her shoulders from behind her, fingers slipping around her neck to throttle her. ”Enough is enough! You’ve given us trouble for the last time Halfling.” The guard snarled as his grip tightened, causing Jyeir’s eyes to roll back in her head as things began to grow dark, her fingers clawing desperately at his hands as she tried to free her windpipe, mouth opening and closing in desperation as she tried to catch even the smallest breath.
”I suggest you remove your hands.” Came a deep voice though Jyeir was on the edge of unconsciousness and no longer taking much notice of the world around her sicne all she could focus on was her inability to breath.
All at once the grip around her neck loosened and air rushed into her lungs; her throat stinging as she began to breath deeply, coughing and spluttering as she brought herself back to consciousness, blinking rapidly and already tensing her muscles ready to run and save herself from further harm.

The man that had grabbed her growled angrily at the newcomer; kicking Jyeir in the ribs as he passed her the young girl grunted and doubled over, clutching at the place he had kicked her as the tears began to form in her eyes from the pain.
”And what business is it of yours what we do with the Halfling thief?” The guard snarled, standing so close to the newcomer that their noses were almost touching.
”I am not one for standing by and watching men bully starving children.”
”This one? Not your concern; this city took this half-breed in, fed her and clothed her and do you know how she thanked us? By stealing from our traders. We have suffered her insolence long enough.” The guard continued.
”And how much compassion was the child given during this time?” The stranger asked, eyes flickering to the young girl staggering to her feet behind them, her eyes fixed on both men suspiciously.
”What?”
”You heard me, how much compassion was she shown? How much love and patience?”
”None!” Jyeir spat angrily, her tone filled with pain as she winced at the twinge in her ribs from the kick, pulling herself upright as she looked defiantly at the crowds. ”None! I was cast to one side because of the circumstances of my birth so I took my life into my own hands! I have nothing to be thankful for in this rotten city. They may have raised me as a child but if they were going to do nought but hurt me I don’t know why they didn’t leave me in the cold to die. Rather that than the suffering I’ve put up with all these years!” She hissed through gritted teeth, her hand gripped her side as she stood looking at the two men defiantly.
The stranger glanced from the guard to Jyeir and back again before he used his staff to move the man out of his way, gripping the girl’s chin gently in his hand as he looked into her eyes. ”I will take the girl; she will become my apprentice and make something of herself. Would you like that?” He asked, a small smile flickering across his unshaven face in a way that was hard for Jyeir not to mimic.
”I would… yes please…”


As a young woman…

”Good! Again!” Marcus barked to his student; his sharp blue eyes focused upon Jyeir’s frame so that he could assess her every move.
The young woman had changed a great deal from the scraggly, malnourished waif that he had found in the streets of a city that had despised her purely because she had been born half Elven and half human. She had gained inches both to her height and to her weight – accentuating curves that had not been there before because she had been far too thin. Her muscles; well trained and constantly coiled tight like a spring packed a punch when released in the way her Master had taught her. No longer the defiant child looking merely to survive, abandoned and betrayed by those around her, she was calm and collected and had a great talent as a Monk… and as his lover.
Eyes fixed upon the dummy before her Jyeir practiced her stance; fists a blur as they moved from a defensive position to strike at her ‘enemy’ – her talents were so precise now that she could stop her fists from hitting the wooden practice dummy a mere hair’s breadth from actually touching it. She had spent every waking hour training under Marcus; had honed her skills and grown patient over time. The anger she had felt at the circumstances of her life had dissipated – channelled to better uses under her Master’s ever watchful eye.
There had only ever been the two of them; the visits to other cities were always short lived and over time Jyeir had found herself falling for the man more and more – every small touch of his hand to her own when he had corrected her stances had sent shivers of pleasure down her spine and she found that he occupied every minute of her thoughts.

It had been pure chance that had led them into each other’s arms – during one training session on the edge of a cliff face there had been an unexpected earthquake that had caused the cliff edge to crumble… sending Jyeir falling…
When the half elf had awoken once more it had been to the sight of Marcus grasping her hand and sobbing as he begged her not to leave him alone; that he could not go on without her, that he needed her, he had told her that she was his last hope at happiness and it had been then that Jyeir had reached out with her free hand to touch him and bring his face to her own in order to kiss him. From then on their love had grown stronger every day to the point that Jyeir could not imagine a world without her Master as her lover.

”Good work Jyeir, that is enough for today.” Marcus called as he clapped his hands together to bring her focus back to him, opening his arms to her with a large smile. ”Come here my love.”
Smiling in return the woman hurried across the yard, wrapping her arms around his well built frame as she rested her head against his chest and listened to his heart beat; her own dancing as it always did when she was in his arms.
”You’ve come so far my heart; I think you’re finally ready to finish your training.” He whispered in her ear; nibbling the tip of it as he grinned at her.
Shuddering she punched him in the side and glared at him. ”Don’t tease me Marcus.” She chided.
”Who says I’m teasing?” He growled in response, winking at her as she rolled her eyes at him and kissed him deeply.
”You’d better not be…” She whispered as he led her into their small hut, happy just to be close to him…

… When Jyeir woke the blood moon was full and high above her and her head was groggy and full. The last thing she remembered was sharing a bed with Marcus after a meal and some wine… beyond that everything was fuzzy and distant. Shivering she groaned as she sat upright, wincing at the pain in her head as she gripped it between her hands and fought back the rising nausea now creeping up her throat from her stomach.
Blinking wildly she looked down at the place she had found herself in and realised that she was shackled to the ground – a strange sigil etched into the floor beneath her. ”What?” She asked groggily, pulling at the chains around her wrists as her wits began to return to her. ”What’s going on?!” She asked in a more panicked tone as she scrambled to her feet and pulled hard on the chains to try and pull them free of the ground.
Footsteps drew her attention to a fire flickering off to her right and her eyes narrowed at the figure silhouetted in the darkness. ”Marcus!” She cried in relief, attempting to step towards her lover only to hear the chains clink as they held her fast. ”What’s going on? What happened? Where am I? Get these things off of please! I’m frightened!” She begged as he stepped into the sigil with her and ran a tender hand across her cheek, no words uttered as he did so. ”Marcus?” She spoke again, her voice quivering as she realised that he seemed calm… too calm. ”What is all of this Marcus?” She asked in a sterner tone as she held herself taller this time.
The man smiled at that and gave a small snort. ”There’s the defiant street urchin I took in.” He whispered before he scratched across her neck. Jyeir yelped and looked down at the place he had scratched her where deep welts now existed and her blood had begun to drip down her chest onto the sigil below that began to glow a deep and disturbing red.
Looking up at him fearfully she saw him smile darkly as he stepped out of the sigil, her blood dripping down his hands where the assassins knives beneath his fingernails had cut her. ”Why Marcus?!” She wailed, her heart breaking before him as her vision began to blur once more from the tears at this betrayal. ”What is this all for?! I love you you know that! She screamed.
Marcus threw back his head and laughed, nodding at her. ”I know. That was your mistake and my blessing Jyeir. Your love for me made it all so much easier to prepare; you were so desperate to please me and prove yourself to me that I barely had to encourage you in your training at all. You see my Master passed something onto me that I am about to pass onto you just as he received it from his Master and he from his etc. etc. This ritual has been passed down for years my darling student and you came into my life just at the right time… I honestly did not think I would ever find the one I was meant to pass this blasted thing onto, not in time, not before it consumed me entirely…” He whispered as he moved back to the fire, picking up a bowl from beside it, holding his hand above it as he let her blood drip into the bowl.

She could not believe this was happening to her… it couldn’t be, it had to be a dream, some horrible nightmare that she could not awaken from. He had to have drugged her as another test before he gave her her exam and made her a full Monk… that had to be it. Marcus couldn’t have betrayed her; not the man she loved, he was different to those fools back at the city who had cast her to one side, he wouldn’t break her heart like this he just wouldn’t! And yet the more she looked at him the more Jyeir did not recognise the man stood before her; the more her eyes met his the more she could see something deep within them lurking hungrily in the background that she had not seen before… and it broke her heart. She had trusted him, she had loved him and thought she had been loved in return but all of that had been a lie?
”Find a student Jyeir; not just any student but a defiant little wild child in need of schooling and bringing to task. It’s looking for one in particular, one of it’s bloodline but I was never able to find them. Pray to the Gods that you find them before it consumes you for if it does it will claim your life and devour your soul… and it will be painful.” Marcus explained as he cast the bowl into the fire.
”MARCUS!” Jyeir screamed as the flames rose higher behind him in a flash of blinding light that became black just as a rush of wind stole his name from her lips and the sigil below her became hot as it lit the clearing as brightly as the sun at noon would have done. She could no longer see the man she had called Master and lover, all that was left was the blinding light of the sigil and the flickering black flames of the fire… and something hot in her body. Jyeir screamed and strained at the chains as she felt something press into her mind; something terrifying and dark and poisonous. The tendrils of it’s mind wound their way into ever nook and cranny of her mind and all she could do was scream and cry and pull desperately at the chains while the thing was implanted into her very being – the images of ever student receiving this horror flashing through her mind and driving her to the edge of insanity through the sheer number of minds this thing had inhabited… all with the goal of finding on of it’s bloodline in order to reclaim it’s true and terrifyingly powerful form… and then all was black…


Now…

Time had passed since the night of her ritual and Jyeir had spent the first few years afterwards getting used to the presence of the entity in her mind; it was an oppressive force of pure hatred that had threatened to consume her on more than one occasion… but her training had prepared her to fight against it and keep it at bay as best she could. With it lurking in the back of her mind, always niggling and scratching away at her thoughts, it was a wonder she stayed as sane as she did – though now she understood how Marcus must have felt… not that that had made her feel any more forgiving towards the man that had shattered her heart and proved to her that she could trust no one but herself.
She had chosen the girl because she was, as Marcus had described to her, ‘a defiant little wild child in need of schooling and bringing to task’… not to mention the entity had grown excited within her mind for the first time in centuries if not millenia – something about this girl had stirred the thing within her mind to a point close to sheer ecstasy in knowing that Malati would be it’s next offering. Jyeir could only assume that she had been lucky in her choice of student and that the girl was of the bloodline the thing had been looking for.

The woman remained silent as she watched Malati’s progress through the forest – the half elf moving deftly between the tree branches above the Tiefling’s head. Kneeling on a branch she cocked her head to one side and watched the teenage girl as she moved irritably through the forest. She took a deep, steadying breath and closed her eyes as she felt the tingle in her head as the creature within her grew impatient and excited all in the same moment – there was no point in rushing this, Malati was not strong enough to receive it yet, if they rushed the ritual it would die along with the Tiefling and then all would be for nought wouldn’t it?
Jyeir felt the entity pull back its tendrils, the white hot pinpricks behind her eyes fading as she opened them once more; hurrying gracefully and silently through the trees until she was ahead of her student, dropping to the ground before Malati nimbly before she stood up and brushed her trousers down, looking at the girl that had been sent to her to learn.
”Malati.” It was a statement not a question as she spoke the girl’s name. ”My name is Jyeir; I will be your Master for the foreseeable future. Follow me and I shall show you to my home.” She said with a nod to the girl… here was to the next few years…
Malati

Character Info
Name: Malati
Age: 20
Alignment: TG
Race: Tiefling
Gender: Female
Class:
Silver: 266
Free of the offending branch, her pack strapped to her back once again, and the gift from her mother in her hand, acting as a walking stick, Malati continued her walk through the forest of the Highlands. Had this been under other circumstances, she might have even found the hike enjoyable. Spring had arrived in Canelux, the smell of flowers and the songs of birds filled the air as she moved down the small, but rough trail she had chosen.

Malati had never met this Jyeir, but it was one of the half dozen or so names that was commonly associated with the witches of this wood. The young woman didn’t know if that was because she happened to live here, and the villagers assumed if you lived here you must be a witch, or if this Jyeir was in fact a witch and that was why they had agreed to let Malati go to her instead of before a magistrate in Mamlak. Mother wouldn’t send me to a witch who was going to….do whatever it is witches do, she thought as she continued her journey. Right?

Of course, the fact that Malati knew nothing about this Jyeir presented a problem aside from her being a potential witch. She had no idea where to find this old Monk, her mother had just said that she’d be waiting for Malati. It was not much to go on, so the Tiefling just walked through the woods. So Malati walked and waited to be found.

She was not looking forward to whatever would pass for training with the Monk. As much as getting up before the sun, and working with weapons under her mother’s instructions until her muscles felt like water, had never been her favorite thing, Malati would give up everything to go back to that. She’d happily never go back to that village. The mental image of sitting in front of a hearth with the old Monk speaking calmly while incense burned came to her mind, and Malati would have given almost anything to go back to weeding the small garden they’d had back home.

She was well aware that she was romanticizing her life, it certainly had not been easy, but it had been familiar and she had been with her family. Malati just hated the idea of sitting on her hands for two years so she could “learn discipline.” Well, if those villagers thought she’d come back and apologize to their jerk kids, they were damned wrong. Her dad had taught her to help others, and she’d be damn if she was going to let that lesson go. The Monk could train her to be a proper young woman all she wanted, if she saw those kids harassing someone again, she’d beat them all over again. Let them send her to Mamlak.

As she walked something caught her attention. Without realizing why, she glanced over her shoulder and up to the canopy of the forest around her. She was not sure what she was looking for, but as she searched she heard a soft thud and spun to see a woman land on the ground in front of her. Moving as quickly as she could, though far too slowly she knew, she fumbled to bring her mother’s gift to bear in her defense. But before she could settle into the stance her mother had taught her, much less remove the protective covering that still wrapped her birthday gift, the woman began to speak and Malati’s jaw opened slightly in shock.

This is Jyeir?! She thought incredulously as she began to take in the sight of the woman in light of this new information. She was not what Malati had expected at all. Jyeir was far from an old woman. Malati felt her cheeks heat up so intensely that she could have believed someone was holding a torch too close to her face. With luck her red skin was hiding most of that, but she bowed her head in embarrassment regardless.

Where Malati had expected an old wizened crone, Jyeir instead turned out to be a….her mind raced trying to grasp the correct word. She wanted to say ‘pretty,’ but that did not feel right. The villagers her age had been pretty, not cute in the way of children, and not attractive like Jyeir. No, Jyeir was more than that. She was perhaps ten years older than Malati, maybe a little more or less, but with what might elven blood in her, there was no way for the Tiefling to make an accurate guess.

Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat and raising her head to look at the woman, Malati forced words to come from her mouth. “You’re Jyeir? I thought you’d be old!” she said, instantly regretting it. Perhaps saying nothing would have been the better bet. But here she was, so she pressed on. “Uh..sorry, I mean… You’re…” gorgeous. That’s the word she’d been looking for, not that she was about to say that. “You’re not what I was expecting. I’m Vasa Malati,” she added quickly, hoping say something that wasn’t quite so terribly embarrassing. But then of course, Jyeir had addressed her by name already. “But you can just call me Malati…like you already did I guess.”

Fuck.

For a few moments Malati walked behind the half-elf as she was led to her home. She studied the way the monk’s muscles moved under her fair skin as she walked. There was something absolutely fascinating about the way her muscles coiled and relaxed as she moved. Before today the strongest person she’d ever known was her mother. But her mother was throw-a-boulder strong, while Jyeir was dodge-between-the-raindrops strong. Her muscles were defined with lines and curves in a way that was best described as beautiful. Like rods of steel wrapped in silk. Malati reached up to try and rub away the heat from her face before she jogged to take a place walking beside Jyeir. Maybe if she wasn’t following the woman she wouldn’t be quite so distracted by her.

“Uh…so…” she furrowed her brow as she tried to think of a conversation topic that would allow her to be marginally less awkward than she had been a few moments ago. Of course, given the amount of time it took her to think of a topic the silence had become awkward as well. Two years, she thought to herself in an effort to reassure her.

But Jyeir had said “for the foreseeable future.” “Uh, so, you said ‘the foreseeable future,’ but my mother, Dagon Vasa, said that I’d only be training with you for two years?” Leaving her mother for this stranger, while it was already better than she feared, had only really been tolerable because she knew she’d be home in a couple of years. The ‘foreseeable future’ seemed like it might be a lot longer. And her mother had said….shit, had she said it would only be two years? As she thought back on it, Malati remembered her mother saying she’d be done “in a couple of years.” To Malati that meant two. A couple is two. But her mother tended to be looser with that phrase. Maybe she had heard what she wanted, not what her mother was actually saying.

They walked for a moment longer, before Malati could not help herself. “You’re not what I was expecting, Jyeir. Master Jyeir? I’m not sure what I should call you. But, you’re not what I expected. What kind of training will we be doing? When I thought you were an ancient witch,” What are you saying?! Malati thought to herself as her mouth kept running, “I figured I’d be like sweeping out your hut, cooking for you, meditating, or something like that. Teaching me discipline. But,” Malati gestured to her new master as if to say “But clearly you are not an ancient witch, so why would you want me to do things for you that you can do yourself?” “So I’ve no idea what we’re…what I’m supposed to be doing here. Did my mother tell you why I was sent here? I mean…I’m sure she did, why would you accept some random girl otherwise…”

Well, maybe I’ll get lucky and she’ll teach me how to keep my mouth from running off without me when I see a pretty girl, she thought to herself as she focused on keeping her mouth shut. This probably was not the best first impression, but she certainly could work to keep from getting it worse. She was not sure why Jyeir’s presence was so….distracting. Malati had been with a boy, and seen girls she found pretty. So it wasn’t like she was all that new to these kinds of feelings, she’d just never felt them so suddenly and so intensely. I just need to concentrate and focus, she thought as she ran her fingers along the ridges of one of her horns while admiring Jyeir’s dark hair, shining almost blue at times in the shifting light of the forest. She’s just the first attractive woman I’ve seen. That’s all. I’ll get used to being around her, then I’ll be fine, she more hoped than thought.
Jyeir

Character Info
Name: Jyeir
Age:
Alignment: CE
Race: Half Elf
Gender: Female
Class:
Silver: 262
At such close quarters to the Tiefling girl the entity within Jyeir became more than a little excited and the half Elf knew that, after all the millenia of hopping from one body to the next, the shadow in her mind had finally found the descendant that it had been searching for since it’s demise. All it’s planning; all the betrayals and rituals and sacrifices over the years had been leading to this moment. She could feel it’s need growing, the desperation to take the girl now… but she wasn’t ready, not by any means. The entity was weak; the longer it was out of a body within it’s bloodline the weaker it had become and the ritual required strong candidates to take it into themselves – the Tiefling child was not disciplined enough to hold it, not strong enough to sustain it and it needed to wait… but at least the end was near… it would not need to consume the half Elf after all.
Hiding within the trees had allowed the half Elf the chance to observe the girl she would teach until the time came for the ritual – at first it seemed that Malati was too self-involved to observe the world around her and be aware of her surroundings but thankfully just as Jyeir moved to reveal herself the girl seemed to pick up on her presence. Too little too late in the Monk’s eyes but better late than never at all. Her movements were not fluid and it was clear that Malati was panicking due to her realisation that she had dropped her guard in the first place – had Jyeir been here to assassinate the girl then the Tiefling would have been an extremely easy mark.

They had a lot of work to do. Flicking her braid over her shoulder the Monk slid her hands into the large sleeves over her shirt, holding her arms in front of her in a stance that truly spoke volumes of her training – it was a typical stance for a Monk and had swiftly become habit for her. The Monk raised her eyebrows at the girl’s outburst; not entirely convinced on how to respond to that. ”It depends on what you class as old. Being part Elf gives me the advantage of aging much more slowly than I would if I were merely Human.” She replied.
Well the girl was hardly eloquent but then again Jyeir had caught her off guard – that said where was the defiance that the girl’s mother had spoken of? Here was a stuttering, stumbling child not the wildling she’d expected to encounter in the forest. Regardless the girl was her student now and Jyeir led her through the forest towards the small cottage she called home deep within the forest at the base of a mountain.

Every footstep the Monk made was silent and thoughtfully placed – other than a small amount of scent she left no trace that she had ever passed through the forest path. As Malati began to attempt to strike up conversation with her once more the woman glanced at her out of the corner of her eye, wondering just what the girl would say.
”When your mother approached me and asked me to train you I asked her about your past; when she asked me how long it would take me to train you I said that the answer to that depended on you, she said to me that when you put your mind to it you could be quite determined and to that my answer was that it would take a couple of years to train you if that was the case, however I also said to her that if you did not show the determination to train that she believes you possess then it would be far longer. The question, therefore Malati, is how long would you prefer me to train you?” She asked, looking the girl dead in the eye as she put the ownership back on the Tiefling. ”From your performance in the forest so far my statement in regards to how long you will be here seems the most valid.”
Whether her words were harsh or not Jyeir did not particularly care; she had agreed to teach Malati for her own means as much as the girl’s and from what she knew of the girl Malati would want to prove her assumptions wrong.

”You may call me Master while we train and Jyeir when we are on our downtime. Call that lesson one; identify when we are conducting a lesson and when we are merely having a conversation and understand why our relationship and therefore my title differs in both.” She looked at the girl again, a small smile flickering briefly upon her tanned face as the girl admitted to what she had envisioned for Jyeir prior to their meeting. ”There will be an element of chores of course; you will be living in my home and therefore required to earn your keep however I will need to learn more about you and your strengths in order to hone my lessons to you specifically.” She answered somewhat vaguely.
”Each individual has their own strengths and weaknesses, what training I endured may not work for you as it may not bring out your talents. In the beginning we will get to know one another through simple tasks; you will learn about this forest that you will call home and we will perform some basic training techniques in Monk fighting styles etc. until I get to know your specific talents.” She said with a nod. ”And yes. She told me why she wanted you to train with me; it was why I said yes in fact.”

The girl was clearly attracted to her – she could see the glances and knew from the way she rushed to speak that that was the case. Good, she could use that attraction to her advantage just as Marcus had done to her… love was a strong drug and tended to be the best way to tie a student to their Master…
Malati

Character Info
Name: Malati
Age: 20
Alignment: TG
Race: Tiefling
Gender: Female
Class:
Silver: 266
The topic of someone’s age was almost always sensitive in one way or another. She had just had such a firm mental image of who Jyeir would be that exclaiming ‘You’re not old!’ had been the first thing to come to her mind. And apparently the filter between her mind and her mouth was very porous. Malati knew, as soon as the words left her mouth, that they had been a mistake. But if there had been any doubt in her mind, Jyeir’s response would have cleared that doubt away. The young Tiefling could not help but flush, embarrassed, at the Half-Elf’s rebuke. She’d caught the woman’s Elven heritage almost immediately, so she should have realized her age may not be reflected in her appearance. For all Malati knew, Jyeir could be well past the age of the elderly, Human woman whom she had imagined. She might have just insulted her new Master, less than a minute after meeting her. Malati had to suppress a groan.

As they walked and spoke, Malati found herself examining the Monk. It wasn’t just that she was attractive, Malati was not going lie to herself and deny that, but there was something else. She listened with half an ear as Jyeir explained what she’d spoken to her mother about, but her mind was focused on what about the Monk (again, not just that she was pretty!) was drawing her attention. Then it hit her all at once. As Malati had hiked up the path to this point, she’d grown accustomed to her own footfalls, the crunch of dirt, branches, and dead leaves. She’d become familiar with the rhythm of her footfalls. But as she walked with her new Master, she was still hearing that same rhythm. It hadn’t occurred to her until this moment that she should have heard two rhythms, her own and Jyeir’s. Jyeir was moving silently, despite walking over the same ground as Malati, who heard each of her steps clearly.

She was so thrilled with herself for discovering this, that she’d nearly missed what Jyeir had been saying. Thankfully, listening with half an ear was a skill she’d near perfected while training with her mother. Vasa liked to go on about fighting or stances, and then quiz her daughter when she thought Malati hadn’t been paying attention. After a couple dozen laps around their land, Malati taught herself to pay attention even when she wasn’t paying attention. She quickly raced back over the Monk’s words, to make sure she understood correctly before responding.

Malati flushed again, but not from embarrassment this time. “Hey, you surprised me! You can’t expect me to be good at something I’ve never done before!” She let out an angry breath through her nose. “If I could do everything you’re doing, then you training me would be a waste of time, wouldn’t it?” Malati knew where her skills were and where they were not, and to be told she’s not good enough at something she’s never done before annoyed her greatly. “Want me to run a few miles with a greatsword taller than I am? I can do that. Want me to spin a quarterstaff? I can do that. I can do that really well, I bet I could even get a hit in on you.”

Why can’t I keep my stupid mouth shut? she thought once again. She knew she was pretty good with the quarterstaff, but she also had to admit she was still working off her misconception about what kind of Monk Jyeir was. She was not the secluded old woman, worshiping some forgotten god kind of Monk. From her silent footsteps, to the thick cords of muscles, and the practiced way she held herself, Malati knew Jyeir could fight. And even as good with the staff as she was, Malati did not doubt that Jyeir could defend herself just as well, if not better.

“Uh…not that I want to. I don’t even have a quarterstaff, so…,” she said, trailing off trying not to look at the weapon she had resting on her shoulder, the blade still wrapped in protective paper. If Jyeir was confident, or cocky, or both, she might ask Malati to prove herself with the weapon. And that scared her. She was good with a quarterstaff, and her mom said she had good instincts for the glaive, but she’d never used this weapon before. And fighting with an unfamiliar weapon was dangerous to everyone involved.

As they walked for a few minutes more, Malati watched Jyeir’s feet. She was not good at the things Jyeir was going to train her in, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be good at them. With every step the Half-Elf took, Malati studied her movements. Not just the way she lifted and placed her foot, but the way she shifted her balance as her feet hit and left the ground.

Once she felt like she had a decent idea of what Jyeir was doing, she tried to mimic her motions. It took her a few minutes to get into the rhythm of it, but once she did, she felt like she was able to sink into it. Walking like this was anything but natural, and Malati found she had to actively concentrate on maintaining the walk. She wasn’t as quiet as Jyeir, but she was not doing too badly if she said so herself.

Malati nodded along as Jyeir explained how her training would go over the next two years, I am damned sure going to make it two years, until she mentioned Monk fighting styles. At this, Malati immediately fell out of her mimicry of Jyeir and stared wide-eyed at her master. “Wait!” she exclaimed, energy coursing through her so quickly she had to bounce excitedly in place. “You’re going to teach me to fight?! But I was sent her because I got in trouble for fighting some dumb idiots.” Of course Jyeir knew this, she even just said she knew why Malati had been sent here. The irony of the situation hit Malati so hard she nearly doubled over in laughter. “They sent me away from my home because I was fighting, and agreed to let me train under you, who’s going to teach me to fight!” she laughed again.

The idea that Jyeir was going to teach her to fight made all of this worthwhile. It wouldn’t be too dissimilar to living with her mother, she figured. She’d do chores, and be trained to fight, and the two years would fly by. “So! When do we start, Master?” she asked, testing out the word. She didn’t love having to call this woman ‘Master’, but it was a small price to pay to be taught a new style of fighting. And from her build, Malati suspected that her fighting style would be a better fit than her mother’s. “I may not know the things you’re going to teach me, but I will! I will be the best student you’ve ever had, I promise you! I’m a quick learner. When do we get started?” she asked excitedly. Malati would prove to Jyeir that she could do this. And more than that, she wanted to do this.
Jyeir

Character Info
Name: Jyeir
Age:
Alignment: CE
Race: Half Elf
Gender: Female
Class:
Silver: 262
As Malati snapped at her, Jyeir raised an eyebrow, turning her head slightly to glance at her student. Defensive. Not a great surprise given the Tiefling's age and what her mother had told her about Malati, but something that they would have to work on. "Yes. I surprised you, because you were too busy daydreaming and griping at the tasks ahead of you to take care of your surroundings and be aware of yourself. Even now, you have been so focused on the fact that you cannot hear my footfalls, and so proud of yourself for noticing that, that you have not taken the time to think before you have spoken. Correct?" She asked, her tone never wavering. "You see but you do not observe, you listen but you do not hear. You are so quick to get angry that you have not stopped to question yourself. I am not expecting you to know everything, or do everything, however it is quite clear to me that you are capable of so much more than you have displayed so far," the Monk sighed heavily, shaking her head. The impulsiveness of youth would be the downfall of the younger generations at some point, of that she was almost convinced. 

At the challenge Jyeir stopped. Now Malati had done it. The Monk turned to look at her student, her face stoney and expressionless as Malati swiftly retracted her statement. "Do not make challenges that you cannot, nor will not, commit to. I will allow you this one outburst, but the next time your anger causes your tongue to run ahead of your common sense, I will ensure you follow through on your words," the Monk replied, her tone never changing, though it was clear that she meant what she said - this time she would let the Tiefling get away with what she had said… but next time Jyeir would ensure she thought twice before issuing such a challenge. 

Again the girl seemed oblivious to the reasons behind Jyeir's words and the Half-Elf sighed. Vasa had done what she could with the child, but it was becoming more and more obvious as to why Malati's mother had reached out to her to take her daughter as an apprentice. "I am going to teach you how to fight properly so that you do not need to fight at all. Knowing how, and knowing when, are two different things. Knowing how will teach you when is, and is not, appropriate. Teaching those 'idiots' as you put it, a lesson via your fists was not appropriate, nor a laughing matter. As funny as it may seem to you Malati it was not funny to your mother, and had cost Vasa dearly because of your short temper. Something you would do well to tie down, swiftly." 

Finally the forest opened out and a small cabin lay ahead of them, Jyeir looked at Malati and motioned to what would now be her home. "We can begin now, there is a room for you. Go and unpack your belongings and meet me back out here once you have made the place your own." 

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