[Ivory Tower] Singing The Song Of The Blade (Fyleia)

[Gossamer]

TS: First Cycle of Kalendryas, Winter, Era XV (pf)
The Gardens of The Ivory Tower In Winter

Marysta had told Fyleia that no Swordsingers were in the city at the time, but that hadn't exactly been the truth. Ivory Violanthe had returned, that very night, and when she'd checked in with the school that next morning, it pleased her enormously to see that a new student was beginning classes that very day. The swordsinger wondered if the woman would mind training at twilight, which was a far easier time on Ivory's eyes than the burning blaze of the suns off the freshly fallen snow. So, she'd sent notes to both the dorm and to the tower itself, clearly stating when she'd be around if the girl wanted lessons.

Katana.

Her favorite weapon, of course, but it was more than that. Katana was a way of life for a Swordsinger... it wasn't about technique, about perfection, about control. It was about the Song deep within the singer... about unleashing the controlled emotion of the singer and letting the dance take ahold of their soul. She hoped the girl had a soul, and a good one at that. Ivory liked her students to have the same fire and passion she did. It was necessary for success, especially in this field. She'd teach Fyleia, of course she would, but she'd do it in a way that the girl could build her arcana upon.

And so the Albino Silrosian stood in the ebbing light of day, pink eyes surveying the wintery elegance of the quiet ice frosted garden, and eventually bared her blade. Fyleia would find her there, singing with her blade, one with the moonlights and frost-kissed world as she danced in a cloud of her own warmth.

[Fyleia]

Fyleia's three other roommates were gone, supposedly eating or at lessons of their own, so she had the large quad room to herself as she arranged her belongings upon and around the small bed and set of drawers. When the odd 'thunk' sounded at her door, she opened it and was surprised to see a dagger there. A threat note? A dagger often marked such things in Arakmat, but this seemed to be a note of a much friendlier nature.

She read the note curiously, then laid it on her dresser beside the dagger with a little smile. Her instructor seemed... interesting, to say the least. Intense. Perfect for a Swordsinger.

***

The next darkening, she found her way out to the gardens of the Ivory Tower, katana in its familiar place: lying across her back. Its weight was comfortable, but she yearned to do more than carry the weapon long destined to be wielded by her. She wanted to learn to use the katana that had been passed down through the generations.

Ivory was a fitting name for the katana wielder. Her pale skin nearly blended in with the snowy landscape where she danced. Fyleia would have been surprised by the snow if she hadn't gone through the experience before, whisked away by the odd Luduan statue to the land of her ancestors. How many surprises did this city hold? She guessed she would have to find out for herself. Remembering the chill of the previous brightening's experience, Fyleia had dressed herself in the warm winter tunic, leggings, and boots granted to her by the school. And, unable to leave her beloved heirloom behind, Fyleia wore her ruby red cloak over the whole ensemble.

It seemed unfit to speak over Ivory's singing, to interrupt the beautiful melody that flowed from her lips. So Fyleia approached as closely as seemed polite and simply drew her katana from its sheath with a soft 'shhh' sound.

[Gossamer]

The blade glowed in the snow white elf's hands. It sung of its own volition even as she twisted and turned in the faint evening light. Soon, lamplighters for the school would be out lighting the gardens. Ivory had requested that they light the practice field first, because she'd be there with a student that night. They hadn't minded, for it wasn't unusual for the albino to choose to teach at night where the light didn't bother her eyes so much. Besides, it was often that the glow of her lovely blade and the song they both sang back and forth to each other drew a crowd. The crowd kept silent of course, and tonight it was definitely lacking, but if the girls took to practicing there, word would get around and the other students certainly would come to watch.

Swordsingers were interesting people. Their music wasn't a single song, but it reflected off the blade and echoed back at them, each forming its own voice that created a melody and counter harmony that somehow trapped those they did battle with in frequencies and wavelengths unseen to those they fought. It was a cage of music that lured the unsuspecting into it, and definitely trapped those that came forward to spar.

Ivory stopped finally though, when she noticed Fyleia lingering on the outskirts of the garden that often doubled as a practice field. "Come closer, its fine. Can you show me the blade you have and tell me a little about yourself. I'm Ivory, no relation to the name of the tower, and I take it you are Fyleia? I'd like to start your training tonight, if you don't mind." She said quietly. "First I think we need to learn basic Katana for you, then later after you've gained your basic Song rank, we can put the two together. We learn unusual spells and I can put your sword into the Ivory Tower smithy to have it keyed to your voice so it will reflect back your song. I think you will really enjoy the experience. Are you ready to begin?" She asked, hopefully.

[Fyleia]

Fyleia was awed by the song created by Ivory and her blade. She hadn't known what to expect it to sound like, but the pair of voices caught her off guard. The harmony between Ivory and the katana was breathtaking and perfect, and Fyleia didn't want her to stop. Eventually, though, it was Fyleia's turn to speak. She stepped forward slowly, boots crunching through the snow.

"Yes, I'm Fyleia. This is Saranha." She held out her white katana handle-first for Ivory's inspection. "She was given to me by my grandmother when I was a child." It was still hard for Fyleia to realize that the vision she'd seen was, indeed, truth. It was an unconventional way to learn about one's family, but Fyleia was simply glad to have finally learned after all these eras.

"I've never fought before, but I want to learn. Ever since I heard about the Swordsingers eras ago, I have wanted to become one. I am ready to take what you have to teach me." She spoke quietly but with resolve. There was much ferocity in her that had yet to be tamed and focused.

[Gossamer]

Ivory took the katana as it was offered and inspected it with a raised eyebrow. She glanced at Fyleia and then back to the blade. "I'm surprised to see you with something like this." She added, puzzled, and then took a second look both at Fyleia and at the blade. Ivory drew a breath and sung out a clear note... a pure C. Lifting the blade, she frowned, and switched octaves, moving to another note. She frowned again, running back through another scale. Then she tried the flats and sharps, pitching her voice. Suddenly, when she hit an F sharp, the blade ignited in her hands. Ivory looked pleased and turned to slowly smile at Fyleia. Saranha glowed... absolutely glowed with a pure blue fire that licked up and down the edge of the blade. Ivory tested it for balance, stepped back, and moved with it through a kata designed exclusively for the Katana. She nodded her approval, and uttered a simple word. The blade quieted, the fire dying out gently as if the air had been stolen from its use.

"Nice, very nice. Do you have a clue what it is? It's a Singers sword for sure... an old one. There aren't many about, it seems, but they have souls... do these blades. In the old days, before a Singer died, when they grew too old to fight and weak with age, they would sacrifice themselves to the best apprentice of their best student... or perhaps a relative, normally someone young. It was a ghastly thing really, and I don't know anyone that practices it now. But they would allow a talented swordsmith, normally one that was a mage, to forge a blade for them... a very nice blade... and the last quenching would be in their very bodies, trapping their souls in the metal. Each is keyed to a note to awaken. Yours was a Male. I can feel him even now. A sword with a soul is a unique thing, very rare... don't show it to many lass... for someone other than me is bound to know about them and covet it." She said, gently reversing the blade and handing it back to Fyleia. Ivory seemed to consider something a long moment, before she spoke again. "Don't get too close to him either. Sometimes they will speak to you, in your mind, and sometimes they are crazy, lass... after being trapped in steel for so long. Even fine steel, like your blade is... he will long for a companion, someone to talk to, someone to guide. The truth is, he probably know more about swordsinging than I do and he will want to mold you, but be suspicious of it. We won't know how stable he is until you use him more and he fully wakes. They slumber you see... sometimes decades or centuries. And if I had my guess, he's slumbered longer than most. And there's something else too. I've rarely seen one carved like the hilt of this one is. I'm not even sure he was human. So do beware." She emphasized. Of course, there was the chance that he could be Fyleia's greatest trainer and ally, though Ivory wouldn't chance it telling the girl so. It was too dangerous, those blasted swords were too dangerous altogether. They could make a mediocre swordsman a really good one if the swordsman listened to them. But there was a reason they were outlawed a long long time ago. Sometimes they were made by force, quenched in the bodies of captive enemies. And the spellsmiths who created them were mostly dead... mostly gone.. .so there could be no duplication on how they were made. Only time would tell who or what inhabited Fyleia's blade. And in the mean time, the trainer would watch for signs of madness in the girl, to make sure she wasn't going around talking to herself, or became violent or temperamental for no particular reason.

"But, you are here for lessons... and later arcana I presume. For now its enough to know the parts... no?" Ivory said, tilting her head and staring at Fyleia strangely. "The blade... the length you cut with.. Katana are sharpened on both sides... slide the edge of the blade along flesh to cut. Don't pierce. Its strength is in is bite along the leading edge. The strongest part of it is by its hilt.. the tip is vulnerable. Don't forget that. Then we have the tang... it slides deep into the handle and should go all the way to the pommel... thats where your snow leopard carving is. The crosspiece protects your hand from the blade... and the sheath is what protects the blade from its environment. " Ivory said, looking thoughtful.

"Hold it with your thumb and fingers gripped loosely. Let its weight hold it into you palm.. not your grip. You need your wrist flexible and able to twist the blade.. thats why you cannot hold to tightly with your fingers. This goes both ways... for I shall teach you to be ambidextrous with it.. neither right handed or left, which will make you a better singer and better fighter." She said, stepping forward to arrange Fyleia's fingers on the blade properly. They'd work on a stance next, then run through the basic kata's to get her introduction into Katana complete.