#nn23 day 4: sharp

[thunderjawsandlightning]

Niloy November - Day 4: Sharp

There were many things that Nil kept honed to sharp, clear precision, and his blade was only one of them.  

—

He always kept his blade sharp, and his arrowheads sharper. And sometimes, when days had passed and there was yet no sign of her on the roads, Nil would run the arrowheads over and through his fingers as he kept and counted through his quiver; a familiar pattern done almost without thought, the motions done as if they were instinct.  A distraction for his hands as his mind counted the numbers of lookouts and fighters within the bandit camp, as well as the wayside travelers who were unfortunate enough to be caught and kept prisoner within the crumbling walls of old stone and metal. 

There were other things that he had to keep sharp – not just his weapons.  His mind and his body were just as important as the blade in his belt, and the Voice of Our Teeth on his back.  And so, when he could feel the anticipation draw tight in his mind and coil into feeling just behind his sternum, Nil would seek out a nicely secluded area to run drills with his sword – slicing through enemies invisible to the eye but spouting delicate fountains of blood within the theater of his mind.  The drills only did so much to keep his mind sharp; rote forms and military methods of practice that did little to sate the simmering hum in his veins. But it would do, for now.  

Cut.  Block.  Mid-parry.  Downward slash.  Block.  

Slash down, slash up.  Block.  Parry, parry.  Block.  

Moving smoothly from one set of drills to another, Nil thought of the way in which the blood-haired huntress fought.  Stealth-wise, swift upward stabs through the ribs, a knockdown kick and twist with a plunging stab through the heart.  Straight melee, and it was upward swings and parry-slashes to take advantage of her speed and smaller stature.  Truly a sight, to watch her fight; to see the breadth of the skills that had clearly been drummed into her for years.  And as Nil continued moving through one pattern of drills to the next, he found himself altering them, countering for a spear stab here, a slashing cut there.  The sprawl of a bandit camp in the hills behind; he wondered how it would feel, clearing this final camp.  The last of his – their – hunting grounds; the remainder of his quarry extinguished like a final candle flame.  As he made a final upward slash with his sword, he could almost see her across from him, bow poised with an arrow nocked, aimed straight at him.  Nil couldn’t help but utter a short, sharp laugh at the image, equal parts amused and invigorated at the thought.  No, no.  Perhaps a thought to consider after.  Until then, he could be patient, and wait for her arrival.