SaDiablo Hall, Dhemlan, Kaeleer

[wwiii]

Training. Studying in Kaeleeran Court protocols, poring over any information that he could get his hands on regarding sanitary setups for new settlements in untamed territories, digging around for maps that could help Warren get a better idea as to where they were, and where they were trying to get... It was fairly safe to say that, when Warren wasn't busy running himself ragged in Kaeleer, trying to get budgets to balance and to work out supply options that weren't going to explode in his face, he was spending practically every waking hour training.

His teeth ground together as a stick whipped around, smacking him in the ribs with an audible crack.

Some types of training were easier than others, especially when he was running himself to the ground. He was tired, and it was starting to show. That wouldn't be so bad, if the person that was seeing it at the moment wasn't a sadistic Eyrien with a stick.

With a wince and a ruffle of feathers as he gasped to get his breath back, Warren straightened up and raised his stick again.

[For them what are in Kaeleer!]

Comments

[wwiii]

THEY TRAVELLED IN FLOCKS. THAT JUST MADE THEM WORSE.

"I suppose it would be nice to be recognized for my acrobatic skills," Warren mused, pursing his lips thoughtfully. And then, a moment later. "Speaking of, I was going to... maybe ask you for another favor. More training, I mean..."

Because he hadn't already overloaded himself enough for his own tastes, apparently.

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So, Warren was a masochist. That explained so much about why he was with Karla!

"You want more training?" Lucivar asked, brow raised. "Finding yourself with an overabundance of free time?"

[wwiii]

"Not nearly enough," Warren admitted, trying not to sound as tired with that statement as he felt. "But this one is kind of..."

He squinted for a moment, and then shrugged. Might as well just spit it out.

"I don't really know anyone else with wings, and I don't have much experience with flying. Not really. I mean, I can impress people who can't fly. That's easy. But I kind of..." He waved a hand. "If there's more than I can do, I want to be able to do it. I fluked out when I found myself facing off against a Jhinka. He was way better at aerial manoeuvring than I ever was. He just wasn't expecting me to let him stab me so I could get in close enough to land a hit, either."

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The boyo let himself get stabbed so he could...? Lucivar's eyebrows went flying towards his hairline while mentally readjusting his estimation of Warren once again. Even knowing you could Heal from it, voluntarily letting yourself get stabbed took balls.

He should know. He'd been there.

"You want to learn to fly more like a hawk than a songbird, huh?" He nodded, wings flaring. That was another set of lessons he'd gladly sign on for. He never felt more right than when he was winging his way through the sky. "Tell you what. Give me a few months of training, and I'll take you through the Blood Run. If you can handle the Runs, no Jhinka will be able to land a hit on you."

[wwiii]

"Blood run?" Oh yes, Lucivar. Now you had caught Warren's curiosity and pretty much made his day by saying you would train him, all at the same time.

Of course, with Blood right there in the name, he wasn't expecting it to be easy for him, either.

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It was easier than the Khaldharon! Which wasn't saying much of a damn thing, but it was! Though they'd be making the run in Kaeleer, because Lucivar would be damned before he ever stepped back in Terreille again.

"The Runs exist in Askavi; a series of canyons where winds and the Winds collide in a dangerous testing ground of mental and physical strength," Lucivar said with a wolfish grin. "Eyrien warriors use them to train. The Blood Run is for the lighter Winds, White to Opal. You focus on handling the flying and I'll figure out a way to deal with Craft."

His solution would probably be 'bug Jaenelle.'

[wwiii]

Hey, that was a totally workable solution, right? Jaenelle could... Do...

What couldn't Jaenelle do?

"Winds and winds," Warren echoed, beginning to be able to pick out the slight difference between the sounds of the words. It sounded exhilarating, in a daredevil sort of way that reeked of testosterone and adrenaline. The wildest skies he'd ever had to fly in were mostly just crowded ones. With lots of pointy things in them. "That sounds like one hell of a flight."

And he sounded like he was looking forward to it already.

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Warren's enthusiasm was obvious and made Lucivar laugh again. "You sure you're not Eyrien?" he checked. "Cause you sounded like one right there."

[wwiii]

"I think I wouldn't have minded being one," Warren decided, grinning a little. "If that's what you all sound like."

Confidence and backbone and the whole damn sky?

Yes, please.

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Lucivar's grin faltered for a moment, before coming back, as lazy and arrogant as ever. "Well, there's being Eyrien and being me," he said easily. "Let's go tell Karla you want to take lessons in being Lucivar. She'll be thrilled."

[wwiii]

Warren caught that falter, and realized belatedly that he'd managed to stick his foot into something that he didn't completely understand.

He seemed to be good at that.

"I think that's just what she's secretly always wanted," he mused, not daring to miss a beat if Lucivar wasn't about to elaborate. "To know that at any given moment, right when I'm least expecting it, I could up and kick my own ass."

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Lucivar's rough childhood hadn't started when he'd gotten Ringed and sent to kneel for Prythian. Eyrien hunting camps weren't all that great to half-breed bastards, no matter their caste or Jewel rank. At least, not in Terreille.

But he wasn't going to focus on that, not when he could be laughing at Warren's joke and clapping him on the shoulder. "If you're taking lessons in me, you'll be able to do that even when you are expecting it."

False modesty, who needed that?

[wwiii]

Well, Warren did. But he hadn't had many lessons in Lucivar yet, so there was still some hope for him.

Relatively speaking.

"It's probably for the best that I have such a long way to go, then. I don't think I'd ever get anything done."

What with kicking his own ass, and then healing, and then kicking his ass again as payback.

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And lo, the never-ending cycle of violence begins.

"Plus, I think Saetan would move back to Hell if there were suddenly two of us kicking around," Lucivar said agreeably. "We should ease him into it slowly. Shocks aren't good for males his age."

[wwiii]

Kaeleer would never be the same again.

"I think a shock like that wouldn't be good for a male of any age," Warren countered. "And probably most females, for good measure. But then, it might be trend-setting."

And then what? Lucivars everywhere!

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A simultaneous shudder went through everyone else at the Hall.

"I think I might have to put a limit, though," Lucivar said, stroking his chin. "Not only because Cat would throttle me if I didn't, but because I would hate to not be special anymore."

[wwiii]

"Really, people should know better than to accept any substitutes," Warren noted with a shrug of his shoulders. "All the impersonators in the world probably still couldn't hope to measure up to the precedent set by the original."

Just like with Elvis!

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"Keep that in mind while you're kicking your own ass," Lucivar suggested brightly. "Because you'll never know when I'll show up to join the fun."

And brought his stick up to whack at Warren.