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Tobias awoke with a strange, but familiar sensation.

It was like many mornings, but this time he felt the pressure of eyes on him so heavy it ripped him awake, tearing him from a pleasant dream. Normally the sensation was reassuring like being tucked inside a blanket, almost as if he were being watched over. But today the blanket no longer felt sheltering, but suffocating. He tried to shift his mind from it.

He looked around the dawn-lit chamber, reassuring himself with the familiar image. His room was small and simply furnished. Each piece of furniture was a rich brown, burnished from time and carved from oak, the long-standing monarchs of the Venomweed. His bed was tucked against the wall farthest from the door. Beside his bed was a small stand, his creation. 

He sat up, letting the covers tumble, and then groaned in pain, noticing the welts on his body like purple snakes—outlines from Mika’s training staff. Suddenly, the door to his room burst open.

Mika stood in the doorway, garbed in jungle hues, with soft leather boots suitable for stealth. A grimace lined his weathered face. [b]“Still in bed?”[/b] In his right hand, Mika gripped a polished quarterstaff.

 [color=gray]“Still? What are you talking about? The sun’s barely up.”[/color]

Mika grunted. [b]“Barely and is are not barely different.”[/b]

[color=gray]“What? I am not so sure even you know what that means,”[/color] Tobias grumbled. [color=gray]“You should know better. Midna ought to be done at night Mika.”[/color]

[b]“It means if you don’t get out of bed now, I’m going to take that bed out from beneath you, and your feistiness with it.”[/b] Mika thumped his staff on the floor for emphasis.

[color=gray]“All right, hold on,”[/color] he slowly pushed back the covers and—

In his periphery, he saw Mika heft his staff. Not good. He scrambled out of bed landing in a crouch balanced on the balls of his feet. His blood pumped and his covers were haphazardly draped across his half-naked body.

[b]“I see you can move when you need to.”[/b]

[color=gray] “Now that you got me up, mind helping me out? Toss me those,[/color]” he said, pointing to the pair of britches next to Mika who glanced down, grimace deepening, then wordlessly used his staff and tossed the pants.

Tobias snagged them from the air, and sat back on the bed slipping them on. Soft and worn, though fitted enough for hunting or stealth, his pants were one of the few articles that remained from his past, along with his much-treasured worn gray cloak. It hung from a hook upon the wall. He eyed its emblem of a star topped triangle and wondered again, guessing at their significance. He often conjured stories about the mysterious insignia, imagining faraway lands.

The thought reminded him of the other item of his past. He pointedly avoided looking to the cubbyhole under the floorboards, not wanting to attract Mika’s keen eye. He had not touched the blade for two years, but he still felt it. Its casing of cloth did nothing to dampen the fear that turned his stomach when thinking about it. It pulled at him, even now, like a moth to a flame.

[color=gray]“More training today?”[/color] he questioned.

Mika grumbled. [b]“I’m not sure how to answer you when you ask foolish questions. Of course we train today. Now finish dressing,”[/b] then the hermit paused, revealing a devious smile. [b]“Oh, and bring your sword. I want to see it now.”[/b]

The door shut behind him.

For years, the man had known all along. Tobias dove towards the hidden hole and lifted away the planks. There sat an unassuming bundle of white cloth. It was about the length of his forearm. He carefully examined the bundle’s surface. There it was. A single strand of his brown hair rested on the white fabric. It was just as he’d left it long ago, as if not a day had gone by.

[color=gray]“Tricky old man,”[/color] he muttered, running a hand through his hair. Grabbing the bundle, he unwrapped the sword. The dark edge glinted, dangerous and beautiful. Dried blood, a blackish red, caked its keen edge—just as the day he found it. Its black hue glowed beneath the blood.

His grip tightened, loathing the blade. With water from the washbasin, he scrubbed the blade with his bare hands, turning the bowl a dark scarlet, then inspected it under the light of the window. It gleamed as if brand new. He quickly wrapped the sword, running out of the hut.

An early morning fog was fading, unveiling the clearing. The hut sat in a glade surrounded by the dense Venomweed. Mika stood near an old stump used for chopping firewood, where a stubborn piece of oak sat which Tobias had been unable to hew.

Wordlessly, he handed the blade to Mika. The hermit assessed the blade, scrutinizing it with a careful eye. If Mika knew the origin of the blade, he might uncover more of his past. [color=gray]“Does it look familiar?”[/color] he asked.

Mika’s peppered hair swayed. [b]“I’m afraid not. Where’d you get it, boy?”[/b]

Such a simple question, but when Tobias reached into his mind to answer, he saw nothing of his past. As if it was shut behind a door that he didn’t have the key to. [color=gray]“I don’t know,”[/color] he replied.

Running a finger along the blade’s edge, Mika shrugged. [b]“Your past is your own, lad. I’ve never asked, and I never will.”[/color]

Tobias gripped the hermit’s arm, stopping him before he continued, [color=gray]“I wish I knew. I have nothing to hide from you, but I simply can’t remember. My last memory is a man holding the blade as carried me into the jungle. Other than that...”[/color]

Mika rubbed his jaw. [b]“Sometimes things are forgotten for a reason. Now put your sword away. We won’t need it today.”[/b]

[color=gray]“I doubt it’s much good anyway,”[/color] Tobias agreed.

Mika twisted and the blade arced faster than light. It cleaved the stubborn hunk of firewood, slicing like molten iron through paper. The two halves tumbled to the jungle floor. [b]“It can cut well enough, but this is a weapon of death, and it has seen much blood. I’m afraid it would not suit for our practice today.”[/b]

Tobias tried to hide his surprise. [color=gray]“Then we train with staffs?”[/color]

Mika winked, handing back his sword, disappearing into the hut. He came back with two strange looking blades, constructed from light wood. Mika handed him a blade. [b]“Today I want to test your skill and limits with a sword. These are made of oak so they should only smart a bit. It won’t do to be slicing each other to ribbons just yet.”[/b]

Mika turned, walking away.

 [color=gray]“Wait, where are you going?”[/color] he asked. [color=gray]“Aren’t we sparring here?”[/color]

Mika looked back with a wink. [b]“I have something else in mind. Today, we’ll train like never before.”[/b]

Tobias watched the hidden pockets of darkness.

The Venomweed possessed a haunting beauty. As he followed the hermit, he admired the mammoth tree trunks and knotted branches that twisted up to form a canopy. He inhaled the musky smell of decaying wood.

Before him, Mika hummed a pleasant melody,

[I]Oh’, Ancient trees and forest sullen, Those who do not, will not, see.

Yet, dull wits, will not hinder thee! As I bask beneath the great oak trees.

Oh, I have seen battles great! Fate that has seen the end of love,

But truth have I seen, so great. And hate, that blinds
Of all great minds,
Since sadness follows me.

Late has come my death,
But I have seen Amartía build a world anew.

Ancient trees and forest sullen Those who do not, will not, see.

So who am I, to sing of sorrow? When there is always ‘morrow.[/i]

After a while, the canopy thinned and the trees turned to saplings. The terrain rose steadily. Tobias saw teeth marks gnawed into the base of one of the aspens, a beaver’s missive, and suspected Mika must have been leading him to a body of water.

His mind strayed as they walked, thinking of his favorite stories, fantasizing about the legends and their heroic deeds.

[color=gray]“Mika, I’ve never heard that song before. How do you know it?”[/color]

[b]“Are you curious about the song, or about Amartía?”[/b] Tobias missed a step. [B]“I saw your face when I sang his name, you’d be hard pressed to hide a look like that.”[/b]

He rubbed a hand through his hair. [color=gray]“Amartía and the song then. Both.”[/color]

Mika waved a hand dismissively. [b]“Ah, the song is just something I picked up in my travels, either during the meals with the Hain, or the eastern trading provinces of the Roavik. As for Amartía... that a bit more difficult.”[/b]

[color=gray]“Please.”[/color]

Mika thumped his staff and gave a wink.[b]“Lucky you, I have heard many stories, some good, some bad. He was said to be a King of many virtues, kind in heart, slow to anger, a warrior. But some whisper of cruelty. On one night, many moons ago, his palace was sacked by an invading army. Many say he was killed, assassinated by those who hungered for his throne, or he was smited by the gods themselves. No one knows.”[/b]

With each word Tobias' pulse beat faster, and with the last words Mika suddenly pivoted, his staff flashed, racing towards him.

Tobias tensed, backpedaling, though raising his oak sword in the last moment and the two collided.

[b]“Ha! Guess I’m not as fast as the old Enas, or perhaps you are,”[/b] Mika said with a wink.

Tobias shook his head with an exasperated laugh. [color=gray]“You truly are unpredictable sometimes.”[/color]

[b]“Only sometimes?”[/b] asked the hermit, sounding disappointed, and flashed another wink, before turning and heading back down the trail, whistling as if nothing had happened. Tobias' blood cooled, but the stories still swirled in his head until the hermit announced at last, [b]“We’re here.”[/b]

The sound of raging water filled Tobias' ears. Beyond a stand of trees he saw glimpses of rushing water. Mika quickly turned and headed towards it, and Tobias dashed to catch up. He wound through the last few trees, ducked beneath a low branch and as he left the shelter of the woods, his right foot stepped out. But there was no ground to catch it. His step extended out over an abrupt ledge that spiraled down to a misty pool far below. He threw his weight backwards, groping when a strong arm clasped his own.

[b]“Fool boy, always needing help,”[/b] Mika muttered as he pulled him back from the dangerous precipice.

[color=gray]“You could have told me,”[/color] Tobias said, his heart still thumped inside his chest, one hand planted on the firm forest floor

Mika snorted. [b]“Well I didn’t think you would go charging out of the woods like a blind boar! Besides I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”[/b]

It was Tobias' turn to grumble as he pushed himself up, standing far back from the shelf. He brushed himself off, and for the first time, he was truly at a loss for words. The scene was suffused in light. The slim trail led to the side and onto a large rock outcropping that jutted out over the deadly drop. Far below the haze he saw a gleaming pool. His eyes followed the path upwards to the largest waterfall he had ever imagined. It flowed over a cliff arcing gently downward and then cascaded over the natural bridge, crashing against it, continuing its great descent. Furry moss covered the stones at the top of the falls, like teeth from which the mouth of the waterfall’s torrent spewed.

[b]“What do you think?”[/b] Mika’s gruff voice was muffled by the roar of the falls.

 [color=gray]“It’s beautiful.”[/color]

Mika laughed. [b]“You do have such a way with words, my lad."[/b] The hermit looked at him, curiously. [b]“Have you ever seen a waterfall?”[/b]

He shook his head. [color=gray]“I don’t think so.[/color]” He tried to dig through his memories, but like every other time, he ran into a barrier and frustration filled him. [color=gray]“What is this place called?”[/color]

[b]“Ivory Falls. Now are you ready to begin?”[/b]

[color=gray]“We’re sparring here?”[/color]

The hermit backed up onto the rock bridge. [b]“Come and see for yourself, it’s as sturdy as can be.”[/b]

Tobias waved his hands. [color=gray]“Oh, no. You won’t get me out there.”[/color]

[b]“Well I can’t spar with myself. Come now.”[/b]

[color=gray]“What is wrong with this nice patch of solid land?”[/color] Tobias stomped on the ground.

[color=gray]“Why make things difficult? I’ll slip and break my neck, if I don’t plummet to my death first.”[/color] Mika only stared at him. Tobias sighed. [color=gray]“Is it safe?”[/color]

[b]“If you’d look, the rock is covered in rough lichen that’s as good a footing as any.”[/b] 

[color=gray]“Why though? It seems an unnecessary risk.”[/color]

[b]“I have my reasons. Do you think every fight is fought on fair and even soil, with no obstacles and no distractions?”[/b]

[color=gray]“Well, no, but how often will I need the skills to fight over a waterfall?”[/color]

[b]“Look beyond your own two feet, boy. I’ve taught you better than that. You should know at least one reason.”[/b]

[color=gray] “Surroundings?”[/color]

Mika grunted. [b]“Go on.”[/b]

[color=gray]“I guess if I can learn to fight here, I can fight anywhere.”[/color]

[b]“Aye, lad, once you put that head of yours to work, you really aren’t the hay-in-the-hair-bumpkin you pretend to be. But why just fighting?”[/b]

[color=gray]“What do you mean?”[/color]

[b]“It goes beyond battle, lad. In any situation there are any number of distractions. That is how a man gets a dagger in his back or any other misfortune. A man who does not know his surroundings is a man half blind to the world around him. You must always be aware. Understand?”[/b] Tobias nodded. [b]“Good, now come.”[/b]

Walking out upon the furred rock, he put a hand down, to feel the lichen surface. The gray-green mat was coarse and grainy.

[B]“You’re afraid of heights?”[/b]

He didn’t look up.

[b]“All the more reason,”[/b] Mika replied. [b]“I can teach you to conquer your fears, but I would rather you confront them. A man who knows his fears lives longer than a man without.”[/b]

With a heavy breath, Tobias strode forward and raised his oak sword before him. A fine rain fell upon his face. [color=gray]“I’m ready.”[/color] He tried not to look in his periphery, tried not to imagine the sickening drop and his body smashing upon the sharp rocks.

[b]“Good,”[/b] Mika said and ran a finger along the line of his jaw as he appraised Tobias' stance. [B]“But a sword is much different than a staff. You must learn to hold yourself properly before anything else.”[/b]

Mika instructed him in a patient tone and Tobias listened. He wondered if he had used a blade before, for holding the oak sword in his fists felt right, like a forgotten dream.

His feet shifted in anticipation. Water thundered, and tension built. 

The silence broke with the screech of a hawk.

Tobias leapt and crashed against Mika’s staff with a thwack. He inched closer to the hermit’s face, seeing an opening. Suddenly, Mika’s weight shifted. With an agile twist his sword sluiced off, and Mika’s staff halted, parting his hair with the force of its descent. [b]“If you want to ever master that sword of yours, you’ll have to master your emotions.”[/b]

Tobias attacked again, trying everything he knew, seeking the hermit’s openings. Mika slid to the right and his right, shoulder opened up. Tobias twisted, striking horizontally, but pulling the strike in the last moment before Mika’s parry. The oak tip dashed for the hermit’s torso, but collided with the staff, sweeping his strike aside.

[b]“Too predictable! You want my midsection? Then attack my head!”[/b] Mika yelled.

He raised his sword striking for Mika’s head, repeatedly hammering all three angles. He gave the hermit no time to counterattack as he advanced, driving him back with each grueling step. The cascade grew louder, deafening in his ears as he rained blows upon the hermit. Mika slipped his staff to block his side once more, but Tobias lunged inward, thrusting with a cry. He pulled the blow and swung upwards, aiming for the most unpredictable target he could imagine—his oak blade flashed fast as lightning, and he imagined himself a corded bundle of energy as it arced upwards scraping the hermit’s leg until—thwack.

He landed heavily, mossy stone softening his fall. Only when he opened his eyes did he realize what happened. His chest throbbed. He looked up. The hermit’s staff was extended rod-straight, still in the strike. Slowly, the hermit let the staff fall.

[b]“A mind has many parts. Never focus to the exclusion of all else that you become blind. If you attack offensively, always expect an opening.”[/b] Tobias rubbed his chest, trying to catch his breath. [b]“Are you all right?”[/b]

Tobias was surprised at the compassion in the man’s voice. He rose to his feet. [color=gray]“I am, but no matter what I do, I just can’t hit you.”[/color]

[b]“You can, and you will. But remember,”[/b] he advised, [b]“a castle is meant to defend and attack.”[/b]

[color=gray]“What’s that supposed to mean?”[/color]

[b]“If a castle only defends, what then? If it never attacks and its people only watch, and stand arrogantly behind its high walls?”[/b]

[color=gray]“It will fall.”[/color]

Mika jabbed his temple with a thick finger. [b]“Ah, now you’re using your head! You see, even in defense there is offense, and the same is true of the reverse. Always imagine that if you fight with only one part of yourself, or only one way, you will always lose. The greatest fighters use all parts.

Focus now. Mind, body, defense, offense, softness, hardness. All of these and more must be considered, and always in union.”[/b] Tobias attacked again. He swung from above then below, moving slowly at first, but building pace, flowing smoothly from striking to blocking. [b]“Good![/b]” Mika barked. [b]“You’re getting it!”[/b] he said, parrying a strike.

A smile grew on his face as he weaved the thrust into an undercut, and the ease of the movement sparked something. He stumbled as the knowledge and images flooded his mind, and when he regained his senses he saw Mika's blow racing towards his head. Instinctively, Tobias ducked and rolled beneath it, and the world came into spinning focus as he reached the ledge, the fall teetering in his vision, the spray and rocks beneath racing forward.

Mika grabbed Tobias' shoulder and flung him back, and the together they landed heavily on the solid stone. [b]“Let’s not do that again. Let us continue."[/b] Mika huffed.

The suddenly hermit jumped to his feet, lashing out, and Tobias leapt over the staff and retaliated, giving into his mind and the sword. Mika retreated. Tobias' lunge grazed the hermit’s brow. Stepping back, Mika breathed hard and Tobias hid a smile. [color=gray]“Do you need a rest?”[/color] he yelled over the sound of the falls.

The hermit dove towards Tobias . [B]“Parry!”[/b] he shouted, striking down and Tobias swung his sword to his shoulder, covering his flank. [b]“Strike!”[/b] And he struck. He flowed through Mika's commands. [b]“Parry, strike, evade!”[/b] And at the last strike, Tobias blocked. Mika held the block for a moment, and then with a twist of his wrists, he flicked the blade like an adder’s bite.

Tobias rebounded, feet scraping along the mossy stone. There was no extra strength in Mika’s block and yet, he was pushed backward by that simple added twist. [color=gray]“Teach me that,”[/color] he said.

[b]“Teach you what?”[/b]

[color=gray] “What you just did. What was that?”[/color]

Mika shrugged. [b]“A little trick.”[/b]

[color=gray]“That was more than a little trick,[/color]” Tobias replied. [color=gray]“You gained power from nothing.”[/color]

[b]“Not nothing,”[/b] the hermit said, [b]“There is power to be found and added in every move, and not always in the might of ones arms, but often in the hidden movements. First you must loosen your whole body, it must be like a cord that snaps tight at the last moment. Imagine yourself like a bolt of lightning, quiet and deadly, and only upon impact do you shatter stone and splinter wood.”[/b] Tobias did as he instructed. With each strike he began to understand what Mika meant—the added flick became audible, adding a whoosh to the tip of his oak bundle.

[b]“You’ve got it,”[/b] he proclaimed with a broad sweep of his arms.

With a flash of his oak sword, Tobias struck Mika’s open flank, this time adding the snap to his sword. Mika threw up his staff and the two weapons collided. But with Tobias' added power the hermit toppled backwards, falling into a nearby bush.

[color=gray]“Caught you behind your castle wall did I?”[/color] Tobias asked as he extended a hand.

Mika wiped an astonished look from his face and grumbled, [b]“Aye, aye, well done boy.”[/b] He took his hand and rose, brushing dry twigs and leaves from his pants. [b]“Seems you’ve learned enough for today, and besides, the weather appears to be taking a turn for the worse. Zephyrion must be in a rage.”[/b] He eyed the ominous black clouds that gathered in the distance.

Looking around at last, Tobias observed that they had not only backed off the bridge during the fight, but also now stood in the glade before the falls. A stand of trees obscured the view. Glancing back to his companion, he noticed with frustration that only a trace of sweat dotted the hermit’s forehead. Other than that, Mika was breathing no harder than if he had just come back from a walk in the woods. However, the smug smile was off his face, and he thought he could sleep easy at that sight. If I can sleep, as the bruises that covered his body coming into focus. He glanced to Mika who was still gazing at the sky.

[b]“Let’s head back, lad. It’ll be good to get out of this cursed wind,”[/b] he grumbled to himself, walking back towards the house, muttering something about a pipe and a fire.

Tobias gave one last look at the peculiar clouds. Oddly, his wrist tingled and he pulled back his sleeve to reveal the sinuous tattoo of a roaring lion upon his wrist,  Turning, he hurried after Mika beneath the shrouded canopy, towards the darkening clouds. 


[hider=Summarino]
-Meet Tobais, the teenage first born child of Amartía.

-The boy is awaken by his master and must get ready for the day.

-He is surprised to find out that his master knows of his secret sword. (To be explained later on)

-Living in the Venomweed, he is taken to a waterfall, were it is reveled that he knows little of his past life or connection to Xerxes.

-He spars with his Master and gets served before they return home due to the sudden change of weather, and the foreboding feeling in the air. 
[/hider]