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Jarlnian Del'Axle was now sixteen years old and had reached the end of his servitude in the chapel. His world had been very dark up till now. He had spent most of his youth either staring at the floor or with his eyes closed. He had become so accustomed to working with his eyes closed, that as he was now led toward the audience chamber to meet with his mother, he had to constantly remind himself to keep them open.
Though most of his youth had been spent cleaning the chapel, in the last six years he had gained the tittle page prince and had been given time to read and listen to his sister's accounts of life in Menzoberranzan. He understood from an early age that he was insignificant, yet he also understood that he was different. He understood things that he knew his sister had not expected him to. Tasks that she felt should be too hard for him were actually too easy. He was able to fool her quite easily on numerous occasions when she questioned him on his thoughts or desires.
Jarlnian knew that as a male, he was supposed to be less important and less talented than females, but he had also quickly realized that he was not. He had learned to hide this and played the part of a perfect drow, begging for punishment just for being a male. Now, if he understood correctly, he was going to be officially welcomed into the family as a noble son, and all of his pretending could end.
He would now be just as important as his sisters. Or so he thought.
Waiting for him in the audience chamber were all his sisters, both brothers, and his mother. There was also another female whom Jarlnian did not recognize. She was not wearing the clothes of a priestess. Instead, she wore the armor of a drow warrior. Jarlnian did not scope out the room too much, for he knew he should still be staring at his feet.
Herlina led him up to the throne where Matron Reinela sat. "Look at me Jarlnian Del'Axle."
The hesitation that should have accompanied his actions was not there. He held himself in high regard, despite all the evidence to the contrary. For him to look a female in the face was not that big a deal to him. His eyes traveled slowly up his mother's robes until he was looking her in the face. He knew that face very well, for he had polished her statue many times.
"You are now officially a member of this family and a noble son. You will no longer have your eyes on the floor. You will look at anyone you speak to. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Matron Mother."
"Remove your cloak," Reinela demanded.
Jarlnian did as he was told and stood bare to the waist. His upper body still had many scars from the beatings he had received throughout his child hood, but they would heal with time and magic.
"Remove your boots."
Jarlnian kicked them off nimbly, not needing to look down to do so and keeping his eyes on his mother. Lillium stepped up next him holding a new piwafwi and a pair of boots. Reinela rose from her throne and took the piwafwi from her daughter and presented it to Jarlnian. "This cloak will mark you as a noble in our house. Also, it will enhance your innate magical abilities. Plus, if you call upon the cloak's special ability, it will mask your body heat so that you appear invisible to infrared eyes."
Jarlnian accepted the cloak and donned it quickly. It felt much more comfortable then his old cloak. He could also feel the magical power with in it. Next came the boots. "These boots will allow you to travel as silently as a breeze. I hear that you are nimble as it is, but these boots will further silence your movements. These are gifts from our house. As a noble it is your privilege to wear them. As long as you do not jeopardize that privilege by bringing disfavor on this house, you shall keep them."
"Thank you, Matron Mother," Jarlnian said as he slipped the boots on. He bowed deeply. This was his first official meeting with his mother, and Lillium was kind of hoping he would screw up so she could punish him. Jarlnian was not going to give her that satisfaction.
The matron mother stepped off her throne and walked past Jarlnian to stand next to the female dressed as a warrior. "This is Qui'tilla. She is the first daughter of your sister Lillium. She is the weapon master of our house. You will be training under her until you are ready to go to Melee-Magthere, the drow academy for fighters. Even though she is not a priestess, you will treat her as you would any of your sisters. She has the authority to enact any punishment she deems necessary up to and including death, if your transgression should so displease her."
Jarlnian bowed humbly before his niece. "I will not disappoint you, Matron Mother."
Only the nobles of House Del'Axle knew of Jarlnian's true lineage, but Reinela had thought it necessary to tell Qui'tilla of it as well. The weapon master would quickly realize that this male was much different than her other two uncles she had trained, or any of the other drow within House Del'Axle.
Qui'tilla looked Jarlnian over, liking what she saw. She had been one of the many females who had flocked to the chapel to watch him clean the statues. He had been but a child then, but now he was turning into a very handsome adult. Reinela fully intended to use him to his fullest potential, populating her house with Baenre blood, but she had warned the females in the house that he was off limits until he returned from the Academy.
"Come with me," Qui'tilla said sternly.
Jarlnian nodded and followed the weapon master. The gym of House Del'Axle was easily the poorest equipped among the eight ranking houses. Jarlnian was the only drow that would currently be training for the Academy, and therefore, would have the gym to himself. On one wall of the gym hung a modest collection of weapons.
"This will be your home for the next four years of your life. I will teach you what I know of the weapons that you see before you, and I will train you in their use. Go over and select one."
Jarlnian walked up to the collection of weapons, looking each over. His eyes settled on a large broadsword. It was long and heavy, but well-balanced. He held it in both hands and swung it about his body. He completed a few circuits around his body, feeling the weapon become an extension of his arms.
"Do you like it?" Qui'tilla asked.
"It fits me well."
Qui'tilla had to agree. It was the largest sword she kept in the gym. None of the other drow she had trained, even the ones that had graduated from Melee-Magthere, had been able to spin it about as easily as this Baenre child did. The weapon master retrieved a six-foot pike from her personal stash of weapons.
"Try to hit me with it," she said.
Jarlnian stopped his motions with the sword, bringing it to rest beside him. The edge had been removed from this weapon, but he still realized he could inflict considerable pain with it. "I will not strike a drow female," he said, fearing a trap.
"You will obey Matron Reinela and do as I say or I shall bring one of your sisters down with a whip."
Jarlnian did not fear any of his sisters. "I shall not hit you."
"No, you will not," Qui'tilla said, walking slowly toward the defiant male. "But you will try."
She suddenly spun the pike around her body insanely fast. It appeared to be a silver disk spinning around her body, and it suddenly lashed out at Jarlnian. His sword was up quickly and blocked the blow. His hands held the heavy sword easily, moving it back and forth in a fast serious of parries as Qui'tilla swung her weapon at him in a multitude of angles.
The weapon master did not try to hit Jarlnian as much as she tried to attack his weapon, teaching him how to parry. At first, the young male was scared to fight back, knowing that he should not strike a female. But as he moved his weapon about, purely in defensive actions, his tentativeness slowly evaporated.
Qui'tilla backed away from her opponent slowly, coaxing Jarlnian into a more offensive stance. She was very impressed with his motions, and she saw that form was not something she was going to have to stress with this one. He knew none of the fundamental parries, but the ones he was quickly improvising were serving him just fine.
Slowly, Qui'tilla changed the angle of her attacks, bring them closer to actually hitting Jarlnian instead of just clanging off his weapon. The observant male recognized this change in strategy, but misinterpreted it for an all out assault by his opponent. His blade moved with confidence now as he blocked the blows, his posture growing straighter and stronger with each parry.
"You can not hit me. Try your best drow female, but you can no-"
Qui'tilla spun her weapon away from the cocky male so that Jarlnian's next parry hit only air. He was sorely off balance now, the weight of his weapon getting the best of him and sending him to the side. Qui'tilla brought her weapon back into play and swung it high, smacking Jarlnian sharply in the ear. The defeated male ceased his boast in mid word and went crashing to the floor, out cold.
Qui'tilla stood over him, smiling broadly. "You are good, child of Baenre, but you have a lot to learn."
***
It was true, but Jarlnian was a quick learner. In the next few weeks Qui'tilla walked Jarlnian through the traditional parries involved with a two-handed sword. She switched to a similar sword herself, and the two sparred for long hours each day. Jarlnian spent most of his time unconscious in those first few weeks. He argued constantly that the parries were wrong.
"If they are wrong," Qui'tilla would always say, "then show me the right ones." The attacks that Qui'tilla would then launch into were not the ones she normally used during their sparring sessions; they were much faster, as if she were in a normal battle with a skilled opponent.
Jarlnian's invented parries were indeed stronger and better for blocking each individual blow, but since they so completely blocked each attack, there was often not time to get his weapon into position to block the next attack. While there was little time for him to move his weapon between blocks, there was absolutely no time for him to initiate any attacks of his own.
From all of his effort, Jarlnian would tire quickly, and all it would take from Qui'tilla is a feint in one direction, and Jarlnian would thrust his weapon to his side in one of his emphatic parries, leaving his other side wide open. After Jarlnian woke up, he would always complain that Qui'tilla was not attacking in her usual routine.
"Of course I could not deflect all your attacks, you were attacking too fast. If you would slow down like you do during our normal sessions, I would have a chance."
Qui'tilla helped him to his feet. "And when you go to the Academy, do you think that your classmates will take pity on you because you have chosen the wrong way to parry their attacks. Oh look,'" she mocked in a potential classmate's voice, "'Jarlnian Del'Axle is using the wrong parries, I guess I will go easy on him so he can keep up.'"
"But you go easy on me during our other sessions?"
"That is to give you time to learn the proper parries, not out of any mercy on my part. If you believe your parries are better than mine, they should be able to stand up to an increased attack."
"But they are better."
Qui'tilla raised her sword up to attack. "Do you want to try again?"
Jarlnian tossed his weapon onto the ground and stood with his arms outstretched. "You can beat me no matter what I do, so please, mighty female, wail away."
She did. Jarlnian came to half an hour later. This time Qui'tilla had cut him quite badly across his scalp. When Jarlnian opened his eyes, his head throbbed. He was lying on his back as priestess treated his wounds. It was not one of his sisters, but a common female in the house.
Jarlnian tried to sit up, but nearly passed out. Qui'tilla stood over him. "Each of your parries ARE better than mine," she said slowly, making sure he was not too groggy to understand her. "But as a whole, when you string them all together, mine are much better. When fighting against a trained drow warrior, you will not have time to block each one of his attacks completely and hope to block them all. All you can do is deflect each attack enough so it won't hit you. If you do this, you will not only be able to keep up with your attacker, but you will be able to throw in attacks of your own.
"Tomorrow, when you are feeling better, I will show you."
***
Jarlnian still had a headache a day later, but he was on his feet, sword in hand.
"When I attack you," Qui'tilla began, "each attack has only one purpose: to hit you. Each one of my attacks is one hundred percent committed to hitting you. I know that ninety percent off my attacks will never come close, because you will either block or dodge them. Even though I know most of my attacks will be worthless, I can not pull any of them short. As my opponent, you might see that I am pulling my attacks up short and will do likewise with your blocks, giving you a decided advantage. I have to follow through with each one because I don't always know which attack will be the one to get through.
"This is the way you were blocking. Each of your blocks was dedicated to stopping one of my attacks in the same way that each attack was dedicated to hitting you. This meant that your blocks could not move any faster than my attacks, giving you no opportunity to attack back.
"Not only did you not have the ability to attack back, but since you were constantly reacting to what I did, each of your blocks came a half second behind each of my attacks. You might be able to guess what my next attack will be, but since it is only a guess, you still have to wait and see. If you were to guess wrong, well, you know what happens."
Jarlnian rubbed his sore head with a hand.
"If you use my parries, you do not have to commit to your blocks until the last second. Since you are not totally committing yourself to the block, you can react much quicker, and each block can be turned into a counter attack more easily. Do you understand?"
Jarlnian nodded.
"Do you agree that my way is the right way?"
Jarlnian paused.
"Answer me with your weapon!" she cried as she launched herself into a furious attack. These were not the traditional attacks that Qui'tilla used when she was teaching a new parry. Nor were these the quicker attacks that she had used to teach Jarlnian that his parries were wrong. This was a whole new fury that Jarlnian had never seen before. It was as if she were fighting Uthegental himself, and actually thought she could win.
On instinct, Jarlnian fell back and began to use his own parries. He fell behind much quicker than usual and had to scramble backwards continually in order to stay conscious or in one piece. Slowly he began to change his strategy to match Qui'tilla's style. His blocks came quicker and faster. He still could not initiate anything of his own, but he was getting his feet back under him and stood his ground
Qui'tilla noticed the change, but did not relent in the attack. She pushed as hard as she could, determined to hit the pompous youth, yet at the same time, determined to prove that her methods could repel the attack.
Every time Qui'tilla had increased the ferocity of her attacks in the past, Jarlnian had thought that they were the limit of her ability. They had always sent him to the ground, but he had thought that he had been defeated by her best attacks. Now he understood that those previous flurries had been nothing compared to what he now faced.
As each of Qui'tilla's attacks were repelled by Jarlnian's weapon he became more and more confident in his abilities. His arms fluxed in and out, spinning his blade about his body in a dizzying array of the parries that Qui'tilla had taught him and a few that he improvised on the spot. He had only spent a couple months training under this weapon master, yet here he was confidently repelling all her attacks.
Qui'tilla saw the transformation clearly. For the first time in his training, Jarlnian was proving that he was a Baenre and not just one of the many worthless Del'Axles that had been through her gym before.
Jarlnian began to advance on his opponent. He stayed on the defensive, but as he brought Qui'tilla's attacks under control, he was able to dictate the flow of the battle. The weapon master's initial flurry had been meant to knock Jarlnian down. When it had not, Qui'tilla had been forced to keep up the rate of her attacks for much longer than she had wanted. Now she grew tired.
Jarlnian occasionally began to throw in parries from his old style. The complete blocks severely disrupted Qui'tilla's momentum, and before she could recover and take advantage of the foolish block, Jarlnian was back to using the proper method. The flawed parries came more frequently now, jolting the weapon master each time her sword collided with the stationary blade.
Jarlnian was stronger than the average Del'Axle male, and that strength was being used in each of his blocks. Qui'tilla saw that she was constantly leaving herself open for attack as a result of Jarlnian's innovative style. She had not yet gone over attack routines with him, but some of the holes in her defense were so wide open that an untrained kobold could have made the attack. Jarlnian saw these openings but did not want to strike at his opponent yet. He wanted to wear her down.
Something needed to happen quickly, or Qui'tilla realized she would lose. She would not only lose to her student within the first couple months of training, but she would collapse without Jarlnian ever once going on the offensive. She dropped a globe of darkness over herself and Jarlnian.
Having spent most of his life with his eyes closed, Jarlnian did not even flinch when the darkness came over him. He had actually been contemplating closing his eyes during the fight anyway, wondering how good he would do. Qui'tilla knew about his efficiency in the dark, but she also knew that he did not know any attack routines, and he had been up to this point only blocking what he could see.
She tested him briefly, and found that he could still easily block her regular attacks. She then executed a four-move attack routine that brought his blocking weapon up high twice, then low, the back up again. He barely got his weapon down for the third block and took a shot to his shoulder as the weapon master completed the routine. Jarlnian hit the ground and rolled out of the globe of darkness.
Qui'tilla was quick to jump out after him and made sure he did not rise.
"You cheated!" Jarlnian cried.
"I could not see either."
Jarlnian had no comeback for that one. "You did well today," she complimented, helping him to his feet. "Tomorrow we will start on attack routines."
***
Jarlnian did not want to strike a female.
He had flat out refused to fight on his first day, but Qui'tilla had ended that quick enough by forcing him to defend himself. She was not worried about being struck, and Jarlnian quickly realized he was not capable of striking her. This allowed him to fight without holding back. Soon, the idea that he might strike her was so distant from his mind that he never worried about it.
After his near victory with his revised parrying technique, Qui'tilla began to teach him attack routines. Now the chance that he might strike her increased dramatically. They spent the first month simply walking through the different routines. No real combat went on and they only sparred at half speed.
Qui'tilla had never been to Melee-Magthere. She did not know every routine. She did not, in fact, know half of them. She had been trained by a drow male who had graduated from the fighter's academy, but he had finished toward the bottom of his class, like all Del'Axles did. She had surpassed him quite easily in skill and technique. Matron Reinela had no use for the useless males in her house and had made Qui'tilla weapon master.
Jarlnian absorbed everything he was told. He no longer argued with his teacher about technique unless she openly asked for his opinion about something she was not sure about. Jarlnian had quickly learned everything there was to teach him, and he excelled at it all.
A few months after the training had switched to offensive moves, Lillium decided to pay the pair a visit. Jarlnian and Qui'tilla had still not seriously fought against each other since the incident with the globe of darkness, but that was about to change.
"Welcome, sister," Jarlnian said with a smile and a slight bow.
Qui'tilla nodded her greeting as well. "Welcome, Mother."
Lillium nodded back at both of them. "You've both been down here for half a year, and we have not seen either of you once during that time. Will you ever take a break?"
"You're brother is an eager learner," Qui'tilla explained. "And I must say he has performed better than the average male you send down here." Both females exchanged knowing glances.
"It is a mindless talent," Lillium responded, belittling Jarlnian's progress. "It is necessary for the advancement of Lloth's servants, but holds no value in and of itself."
Jarlnian could see that this was a sore spot between mother and daughter. Becoming a fighter had been Qui'tilla's choice. She had seen that she did not excel at the mental disciplines like the rest of the females in the family. It was not from any deficiency on her part, but because she felt Lloth had called her differently. She had remarkable physical talents, especially for a Del'Axle.
Lillium had of course frowned on her choice, but as long as Matron Reinela not only agreed with her, but supported her decision, the weapon master's mother would take no action against her wayward daughter.
"Perhaps you would like a demonstration?" Qui'tilla suggested, drawing her sword and facing Jarlnian. "This is not a sparring session. Understand?"
Jarlnian pulled his own sword. "I shall answer you with my weapon." The two charged.
Jarlnian and Qui'tilla enjoyed the sparring sessions they had together. The weapon master had never found anyone who had been able to understand fighting like Jarlnian and no one with even a fraction of his skill and potential. All other males that came through her gym knew before they entered that they would never become an expert fighter and put very little effort toward their drills. It had been very easy for Qui'tilla to play the part of the punishing female, closely resembling the mother they had just left behind. Jarlnian was different.
Likewise, Jarlnian had never met a female that he could see eye to eye on. He had only recently been granted the privilege of looking females in the eye, and the few he saw before he had met Qui'tilla had all treated him as dirt. Qui'tilla had done that also, in the beginning when he had stubbornly held on to his beliefs that his methods were just as good as hers, but now she treated him as close to an equal as any female ever would.
The two did not necessarily like each other. Friend was not a common word in the drow language, for it had little use in drow society. Having a friend created a weak spot in your armor. If you cared for something other than just victory, you would fall to the opponent for whom victory was the only thing.
Still, the two did not dislike each other. They respected each other. Regardless the feelings they had for each other, they appeared as mortal enemies now. Their blades moved about as if controlled by their minds, without the encumbering physical laws of things like speed or momentum.
Lillium was impressed. Despite her dislike of her daughter's chosen profession, she knew that she was good. Jarlnian was matching her blow for blow.
Qui'tilla took the first initiative in the battle, raining a series of wicked attacks on her student. Jarlnian did not panic this time and blocked each blow with the appropriate parry. He sent her blade sharply down and to the left with a perfectly executed block, opening up her other side. Qui'tilla was forced to take a step back, and Jarlnian quickly took the offensive.
His attacks were quick and perfect. He ran through every attack routine they had practiced as if this was just another sparring session, only at twice, and sometimes, three times the speed. As Qui'tilla barely got her blade up for the last block of the same four move attack routine she had used to knock him down in their last fight, the reality of what he was doing hit Jarlnian sharply, and he backed off.
Qui'tilla took the opportunity to press the attack in her favor. Jarlnian tried his old method of blocking, but Qui'tilla was ready for it. Instead of trying to swing through the stiff block like she had before, the weapon master locked blades with her student and the two drew close. They engaged in a brief match of strength, their faces only inches apart.
"I will not strike you," Jarlnian said.
"You have to," Qui'tilla responded.
"I won't."
"Then you will lose, for I shall strike you." Qui'tilla shoved hard, and the two separated, Jarlnian stumbling as he was not prepared for the strength of his opponent.
Lillium saw the stumble and laughed. "Worthless male," she mumbled. Jarlnian heard the comment, and it lit a fire in him. He would show this pompous priestess. He would show her what he was capable of.
Jarlnian caught himself before he backed away too far and walked slowly in, his blade swing about at his side in a fancy display of swordsmanship. Qui'tilla stepped up to him and initiated her own attack. Jarlnian blew it aside with a powerful parry and began the onslaught.
Qui'tilla was two blocks behind after the third attack. To her it looked like Jarlnian was using two swords. The attacks were coming too fast and hard for her to even guess where the next was coming from, to say nothing of trying to block them. They were executed in perfect formation, but not one had Qui'tilla taught him or ever even seen before.
Lillium stopped her chuckling quickly, seeing where this fight was headed and pulled her high priestess whip. Jarlnian blasted away at his teacher, and she helplessly retreated. Her feet could not keep up with her upper body, and she tripped. Jarlnian held his last attack in check and stepped back as Qui'tilla fell to the ground, defeated. He had done it without having to hit her.
The snake-head whip struck him solidly in the side of his face. "Is that how you finish your opponents?!" Lillium scolded as she rained blows down upon him. Jarlnian dropped his weapon and held his arms up to protect him, taking the rest of the snake bites on his forearms.
"Is that how you will fight at the Academy? Will you back away and let your enemy fall down uninjured? When a true drow warrior puts an enemy down, they do not get back up."
"Mother!" Qui'tilla called.
Lillium looked fiercely at her daughter, but instead of scolding her too, she merely gave one more lash with her whip and walked away. "Teach away, my daughter," she said mockingly, gesturing to her quivering student.
Jarlnian had begged for beatings as a child for two reasons. He had wanted to show his piety and humility in the face of Lloth and her priestesses, but he had a much more personal reason. He had hoped that if he were exposed to the unique venom in the snake-head whip as much as possible, he might build up a tolerance to it. It had worked to a small extent, in that he was able to stand up to far more punishment than he should have been able to, but Lillium was a powerful high priestess, and she transferred that power through her weapon.
Jarlnian struggled to his feet, his arms shaking from the beating. He fought for control over his numbing limbs and was able to pick up his sword. Qui'tilla cared nothing for his condition. She tossed her own sword away, for it was not her weapon of choice and instead retrieved her pike that she had used on the first day.
"Can you swing it?" she asked, nodding to the sword in Jarlnian's shaking hands.
Jarlnian looked down at his weapon and then up slowly at his teacher. There was a smile on his face. The shaking in his arms ceased, and he swung the sword about in an exquisite pattern. "I can manage."
"Try to hit me with it," she said, repeating her words of six months ago.
Qui'tilla again started the attack, flipping her silver weapon about her body faster than Jarlnian could follow. Beyond the first day, Jarlnian had never seen this type of weapon in use, and that had only been a brief, uninformative display. Now, Jarlnian's weapon moved on its own, blocking the silver streaks that could barely even be seen, they moved so fast.
Though the weapon moved quickly, it was also light, and it bounced off Jarlnian's sword with terrific force. Jarlnian was able to catch on to the rhythm of the attacks after a few frantic moments and positioned his blocks accordingly. He finally ducked one swipe and jabbed out at Qui'tilla's vulnerable chest. The weapon master leaped back.
Jarlnian stepped to follow, his weapon low by his side, and he swung up with it. It was a very unusual attack, and Qui'tilla was taken by surprise. Without thinking, she held her pike out horizontally in front of her to block it. The sword hit the silver shaft, and Jarlnian hooked the tip of his weapon around the opposite side of the pike, yanking the two fighters together.
Qui'tilla immediately saw that she had erred, for now there was nothing between the sword and her body. At the same time, there was nothing between her pike and Jarlnian. The weapons stayed locked like this only long enough for Jarlnian to wink at his teacher. He did not have any type of angle to swing at her, but he did not need to. He punched out with the hilt of his heavy sword, and caught Qui'tilla in the face.
Blood exploded from her nose, and she stumbled backwards, loosing the grip on one end of her weapon, freeing up Jarlnian's sword. He swung it hard against the loosely held pike, sending it flying across the room. Jarlnian continued the momentum of his swing, coming completely around and slamming the flat of his weapon against the left leg of the prone female in front of him. She crumpled, and he slapped her twice more in the shoulder and the head.
"There," Jarlnian said, standing over his unconscious teacher. He turned to Lillium. "She will not get-"
He never got to finish for the high priestess was on him before he ever got a chance to put up a defense. A single sword offered no protection against a whip with five independent heads. Despite his tolerance to the venom, nothing could have prepared him for the fury he faced. "You will never hit a female again!"
Jarlnian thought he was dead, and as he left consciousness, he was sure that he would never awaken. As Lillium handed out the punishment of Lloth, she had every intention of killer her brother. The only thing that saved Jarlnian's life was the fact that Lillium knew her punishment might be just as great when her mother found out. Still, she beat him long after he had lost consciousness.
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