Arming Up

[thelisan]

 12 Gustmoon, 2E 222

It's a lovely autumn morn when I hear the cry of a stelze, followed soon after by a woman shouting cheerfully. "Morgan! You have a visitor!" Gloria. Never was one for subtlety. I open the door without even checking the viewport and wave her in. She hugs me, kisses my cheek, and glides into the parlor as though she knew no other home.

She is Maryse's sister, and it shows very clearly in their faces - the eyes especially, sharing a singular shade of blue that I always found striking. She has a wiry build, little surprise given her swordplay and travels, and blonde hair as well, though hers is brighter, yellower than her sister's. She's wearing a well-crafted long coat of silk over an airy wraparound tunic of violet and white, and dark slacks, a familiar outfit that immediately conjures memories of its presence on the floor of-

I shake myself back to present; those days are long past, and it was naught more than a casual fling regardless. Spirits, she looked good, though.

I realize as Melina and Lucinda join us that Gloria brought a rather large box with her. "Gloria, it's always a pleasure. But whatever could be in the box?" I ask.

"Always loved how you get to the point," she replies warmly, setting the box down and opening it. Inside I see weapons - an exotic dagger, I believe known as a karambit, an arming sword, and a shortsword. Each is matched with a wooden replica, for training I surmise. "Maryse told me-" Her energy suddenly falters. "She told me of your hunt," she continues gently. "I am terribly sorry I couldn't be here to help you through... through everything that happened that tenday."

"Thank you, but I'm managing. I have Lucinda here, she has been a wonderful support in these times," I reply. There is still some pain from all that happened, but I am getting through.

"Ah, the pretty blonde. If I didn't know better, I'd think you have a type," Gloria teases. "You two make a lovely couple, dear. But as we were, Maryse had taken a particular interest in your apprentice, Melina."

"That would be me," Melina comments hesitantly. "What kind of interest, though?"

"She found you quite impressive for a fresh apprentice. Not even a year with Morgan and you're able to keep up with my sister on a hunt? Amazing, truly."

Melina glances over at me with a look of uncertainty. It takes a moment for me to understand. "Oh, she means that. Gloria is the sort that is exactly what you see - no deception, no lies, no mockery."

Gloria continues, "She wrote to me soon after leaving here, asked if I could reach out to some contacts that I have. " She carefully takes each true blade from the case and sets them on the table, unsheathing them in sequence. First, a simple, unadorned straight sword of classic steel.  Second, a shortsword with a disquieting reddish gleam - Bloodsteel, I know it well. Third is a karambit, a sharply-curved knife of a style that was brought here some decades ago by traders. This one has a blade like silver, but instead of glimmering in the light, it grows darker. Blacksilver, not an easy material to work. "They are, all of them, yours to use as you see fit Melina. A gift from me and my sister."

Melina nods quietly and reaches for the knife, turning it over in her hand, experimenting with grips, growing comfortable with its weight. I take the opportunity to explain the properties of each material. "Steel, of course, you are well familiar with. It is a material of no real note - quality, certainly, but it affects most things in the same way." She nods her understanding, and I recognize its truth; she is intently focused, but still attentive. "The shortsword... that's bloodsteel. It's a hard material for most mortals to work, but- wait."

"She really has changed, Morgan, I hope you see that," Gloria says gently. I nod; it does seem so after all. "This was made by a smith named Lucretia. She has bright pink eyes, so she's easily recognizable; I absolutely recommend her work without reservation. Tell her I sent you, so she knows she can trust you."

"I'll- I'll keep that in mind," I say, slowly coming to terms with the idea of Maryse working with a vampire of her own accord. "As we were, however. Bloodsteel is steeped in ephemera. Its name is no metaphor; blood is necessary for its creation."

"Sounds risky," Melina comments, still moving the knife around. "It was made without us, so that would be someone else's anima, someone else's dynamis."

"She's a quick one," I smile. "But the forging process will, unless specific actions are taken, separate the ephemera from their source - and with the right technique, this will be painless. This leaves you with a blade well-suited to working with ephemera directly - for inscribing sigils, for example."

"As if you were tuning an instrument," Lucinda says.

"That's a very good metaphor," Gloria says. "Different samples of bloodsteel will be 'tuned' differently, so some will work better for specific tasks. They can be retuned, but it's a more difficult process. This blade should work well for anything you need to use it for, however; it is as neutral as bloodsteel can ever be."

"That leaves us with blacksilver. It is a complicated material to create, requiring extensive ritualcraft even for a sample this size. Where bloodsteel can guide and direct ephemera with ease, properly-used blacksilver can sever ephemera." Melina stops what she's doing and stares intently at me. "It is a ritual usage. There are simple enough introductory tasks that you can use this for, but against more hostile energy... that is another matter. We will get you there, though."

She returns her attention to the blade, and a whisper slips from her lips. "Wicked Moon."

"Is something wrong?" I ask.

"When I was but a girl, people would always say I was 'born neath a wicked moon'. Wanted nothing to do with me. For a while, I blamed that wicked moon too." She looks up at me, and in her motions I see that she has already become remarkably comfortable with the unusual blade. "But I realized something in adolescence. The moon, Ilclara, she did nothing wrong. It was night that sheltered me, Ilclara that gave me solace." With a quick twirl, she returns it to the sheath. "And now, she will protect me once more. Wicked Moon."

"I've never really been one for naming weapons," I comment, "But as long as you're happy with it."

"You should consider it, Morgan," Gloria replies. "I know, I know, 'possessions are fleeting', all that. But even if they don't last forever, they are a part of us. You know that; even without bloodsteel, they carry a portion of our essence." I glance away but cannot deny the truth. "Come now, bring me your sword."

Never was able to say 'no' to her. I get up and do as instructed, retrieving my sword from my bedroom. It is a simple thing, not altogether unlike Melina's new sword, but mine has a longer hilt along with a slightly longer and narrower blade, with a dark fuchsia spiderstone in the pommel, and has some wear on the blade.

"You saw how she was doing it, Morgan. Go on, then," Gloria prods.

I feel ridiculous, but I draw the sword from its sheath and move it around some, careful not to hit anything since this is much longer than Melina's knife.  Over the next moments, I feel an unexpected pattern in the motions, a familiar one. "... Raven's Rondo," I mutter.

"I like it!" Gloria replies, clasping her hands together. "Now, I hope you haven't eaten yet," she says, pulling the wooden weapons from their case, "Because if I'm going to give you live steel, I'm going to be certain you can use it properly. Come along then, Melina, this isn't optional." Somehow she's so cheerful about it. Melina seems rather less enthused, I think she suspects - correctly - that she doesn't have a chance against Gloria in a straight fight.

But that's not the purpose of these lessons, and I think part of her knows, since she follows Gloria out without complaint. Lucinda and I join soon after, and see Gloria unwrapping a bundle at the side of her stelze, which houses a quarterstaff and a double-ended spear - it always seemed a strange weapon to me, but she made it work.

As the two situate themselves in a level-enough clearing and take on battle stances, I see one of the wargs, an older one with light grey fur, taking an interest. "Don't worry, they're friends. This is just practice." He seems to understand my meaning, and comes to sit with Lucy and I to watch.

Her staff held in her right hand with her left side facing Melina, she beckons with a grin. "Come then, little moth. The flame awaits." Melina finds her confidence briefly, before being reminded why she was concerned.

Their first round is a simple sparring match to see what they're starting with, and Gloria gives Melina a beating she'll remember for life. But then she picks Melina back up and gently begins providing her more instruction. With each brief lesson, a more controlled match to ensure Melina understands.

Gloria stays with us for a few days after, in order to continue instructing Melina. She sleeps in the guest room this time.