[center][h3]Back On the Horse[/h3][/center]

[center][b]The Academy, Early Evening[/b][/center]

[center][b][i]Themerlinhawk & Grin[/i][/b][/center]


Lazarus turned gently extending his left hand through part of Si Lum Tao. I meant seeking the bridge, Lazarus had always enjoyed the gentle flow of Wing Chun forms. A pity he doubted Iris had the patience for them. Perhaps one day she would but today it was a day for beginnings. The practice room was devoid of anything but a foam mat to cushion impacts. After her fight with Ian he’d decided it was time to give her some practical training.

Iris slid through the door, expecting nobody to be present in the dusty room. When her eye’s met Lazarus’s she jumped and tore her stare to the floor. “I...never knew of the harp’s power until now…” her face furrowed into one of focus. “I still feel so much anger and hatred for no reason.” 

Lazarus smiled gently at Iris “I can read the mind of a god, but that fact is written clearly on your face sweet girl” He stopped his motion through the form “There is nothing wrong with anger. It’s merely a question of learning to direct and control it. Ian just happened to be foolish enough to be standing in the way and for all his skill the young Master Snyder still has much to learn. Do not take your victory as the end of things though. Next time he will use Koshmar. And he will win. 

He gestured for her to come further into the room “You know before the current combat instructor taught the academies combat classes, a man.” He paused at the word as though contemplating it. “yes I think man is a good word, A man used to teach the classes. This was before that idiot angel. His name was Alzir, and they called him the Hundred handed Devil. He was the finest martial artist in the world. And he knew much of anger. This was when I was young if you can believe that.” He smiled at her “And when I was just learning what anger was. So do not think that you are alone in knowing hatred. Or that you are special because of it.” Lazarus rolled his neck “You are special because you will use it for great things. Until then. I shall enjoy teaching you to control it. By making you angry. Shall we begin?” He adjusted his right foot back slightly and tucked his hands behind his back.

Iris’s expression softened and she took a deep breath, her eyes wandering up back to the smiling mage. She tightened her mouth to a straight line and pressed the harp against her chest, like a high school student carries books on a cold winter day. “Okay,” She cursed her shaky voice. “I’m ready.”

Lazarus suddenly furrowed his brow “Iris, what I’m about to say to you. I don’t mean it, but I have to make you angry.” Lazarus face changed to a sneer “So what is it like? To be rich and have it all to yourself? See Ian and I still have parents, well. I mean I did for the first forty years. You had them for what? 14 years and you could walk for what? 12 of them. Ian’s like 18 and his are still around. Guess he won that fight” Lazarus chuckled darkly.  



Iris clenched her fists, her hood’s shadow covering her face. It was silent, but then Lazarus heard the faint sound of crying. Her anger was melting, only to be replaced by complete sorrow. As the tears smeared onto her clothes sighs hiccuped out of her in order to gain control of her embarrassing emotions. “Damn it, Lazarus…you suck at this..” a sad smile crossed her lips.

Lazarus sifted through the emotions rolling off her. Did he push her or did he give in to the need to comfort her? “You’re the one crying over dear dead daddy.” He bit his own lip as he said it and his gut twisted. Loosening the wards on his mind he gently tugged at her mind letting comfort push gently into it. Maybe we should talk instead since clearly there are some other things going on. The thought pushed gently at her consciousness. 

Suddenly the room got tense, as if all the molecules in the air compressed it. Talking is for cowards. Iris’s tattoos began to glow, the red energy oozing from the symbols like glowing blood. “My dad has to still be alive….” She swallowed. “You shouldn’t talk about him like that…” 

“So why the hell don’t you stop me? You seemed happy to do that to the young Mister snyder, and it’s not like he even suggested he was dead. And for the record, he doesn’t have to still be alive. He could have died a long time ago. And you know what? Maybe you’ll never know.” Lazarus stood calmly, “What are you going to do about it?” 

Iris was silent, then she suddenly snaked up to Lazarus’s ear with speed, a cold, playful voice tickling his ear. I’m not the only one with dead family, isn’t that right, Tommy? what appeared to be silent laughter echoed around the room with an icy trickle, the tones of it shrill and unsettling. Iris strummed a few low key notes on her harp, the sounds reverberating off the walls. The room suddenly began to fade, the ground melting into darkness. 

Lazarus eyes glazed over with solid quick silver. His hand snaked out and grabbed her by the jaw Come, enjoy my nightmare. Unraveling the Essence she had woven he rewove them turning the room around them into a desolate village. Smoke rose from the surrounding buildings and the scent of burned flesh filled the air. Do you know what it feels like to kill someone my dear? A single life sure, how about all of them? holding out his arms he gestured to the crisped skeletons scattered like dead leaves. A few of them were cowering in fear, one appeared to be a mother and child, she was covering the child and they were both dead, flesh seared from their bones. Your hatred lead you to beat Ian, mine slaughtered a whole village. 

The area around Iris’s eyes were dark, like she had two black eyes. Her face had gone pale and her body quivered. No more... The village twisted and melted back into the shapes of the wall of the practice room, where Lazarus saw Iris in front of him, kneeling, her body shaking and her eyes watering. Her voice muted to a whisper. “I hate manipulating people into reliving nightmares…” Her quivering began to rise to a tremble. “I don’t want to dive into a nightmare from me again..nobody should have to feel that way..” Iris shut her eyes, preparing for whatever scolding Lazarus has in mind for being such a weakling. 

Lazarus gently sank to his knees with her, his eyes still swirled with the silver sheen of Essence leaving them silver pools that reflected the soul. “Then you understand why hatred is so dangerous sweet girl, yours only hurt Ian’s pride. I wiped a village from the face of the surface with mine. You must learn to quell it and to direct the anger. You have such power and so many gifts, but you are still young. You will grow into it but I am telling you if you let it rule you, you will live to regret it.” He gently gathered her up in his arms “We all have nightmares and some of us will forever be forced to face them again and again. It is what we learn from them that matters.” 

Iris sniffled and tightened her lips, trying to push back the tears as best as she could. It was a pretty sad attempt. “Okay, I just don’t want to use them on my new friends, I’m so afraid I’ll lose them…” Iris paused. “They’re so precious to me, since...since I feel that the Academy is all I may have left…”

Lazarus rubbed her back gently “Then we will simply have to learn to control them” With that he pulled her to her feet. “Lets beginning, this time. With roots.” He planted his feet firmly on the ground. “Everything comes from how we brace ourselves. From fighting to loving to thinking. You need to plant firm roots, so that you may weather the coming storm.”

Iris wiped away her tears and stood there with Lazarus, and for once, she felt like she could make a difference. She couldn’t just weather the coming storm…

She could control it.