"Know how'ta sword fight?" Mossen asked a sitting Claire, adjusting multiple layers of protective foam gear on his body before rotating a wooden blade with his wrists. He prepared his swinging hand by exercising it before he would practice spar with Pirelle, who relished in the same routine with him.
"Um… no, not really." Claire said.
"Well, didja wanna learn? You never know when you might need to defend yourself out there. Qliphos might not be able to protect everyone all the time, you know."
"Stop," Pirelle harshly stated after adjusting his foam pauldrons to fit more comfortably. "We're not teaching a Qliphosian how to fight."
"Oi, she's right there, you know," Mossen pinpointed out after witnessing Claire's eyes shift away from the two of them preparing to spar. "You know, Claire, it's people like him who deserve a little smack on the head with this to just knock'em out clean!"
"Ugh, you don't get it. I don't want to get in trouble again. Thatcher just lectured us like we said he would." Pirelle sighed.
"Nah, I'm sure Thatcher wouldn't mind. He did train all of us, after all. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if we took a little apprenticeship, you know what I mean?" Mossen laughed, eyeing Claire's spirits nurturing back with another faint smile.
"You're taking the smoke later, just know that," Pirelle concluded. "Alright. You ready?"
"Easy there, I'm here to show Claire the ropes," Mossen replied, hyping up his knees by hopping lightly back and forth. "Alright, let's go. En Garde!" He shouted, extending his wooden blade out to touch Pirelle's, signaling the commencement of their spar.
"En Garde." Pirelle repeated after Mossen.
Claire's eyes glistened after watching the two clash blades. "What does that mean?" She asked.
"On guard. You say that every time you're about to challenge someone to combat," Mossen said, rearing himself backwards. He didn't check to see if Claire understood it or not. "Now, what you wanna do here is to break your opponent's guard with some powerful swings. You wanna try and get them on their feet begging for mercy."
"Please." Pirelle nearly burst out laughing.
"And that involves doing things like this…!" Mossen lunged forward with his wooden sword for a swift stab, but Pirelle parried it to the side before counterattacking with another swipe. Mossen reared his blade back as soon as possible, catching Pirelle off guard. He then dashed forward to disarm Pirelle's blade, but quick sweep of his legs had Mossen flat on the ground on his back. Pirelle then lunged forward and stuck the blade on Mossen's neck padding, striking it and successfully winning the round's spar.
"Sloppy as always," Pirelle said, extending his hand for Mossen to grab. "Perhaps Claire should be the one to watch me instead of you."
"Uhh, well, a warm-up!" Mossen awkwardly chuckled, readjusting his protective gear before moving back to his starting position. He caught Pirelle shaking his head in denial and Claire giggling at him falling. "All right, ready? En Garde!"
"En Garde. Watch this, Claire." Pirelle said, lunging forward before gripping his wooden blade with both hands. He swung down at Mossen's blade with brute force, catching him off guard before delivering a powerful kick towards Mossen's torso. Mossen plunged down on the ground, hitting the back of his head near several buckets of dry paint.
Claire giggled aloud before clapping softly multiple times. Pirelle smirked at the sight of her celebrating his victory.
"Alright, that's it." Mossen reared himself up, summoning his strength as he approached Pirelle with his wooden sword by his side.
He swung down at Pirelle's sword with a powerful overhead slash, but Pirelle was ready. The two clashed swords and tried to push each other down with pure strength, but Pirelle was already one step of him. He shoved Mossen's sword off with a final push before elbowing him in the chin. Granted, the protective gear did soften the blow, Mossen fell back again and dropped his sword. His protective pauldrons snapped off as he was left alone in utter embarrassment.
Pirelle removed his protective helmet and shook his head at Mossen. "Just an off day for you, isn't it?" He then looked at Claire and gave a confident smile at her, exchanging glances with her attractive white eyes. "Want to give it a try?"
"Sure," Claire nervously said, standing up from her dusty seat. She had changed her attire previously before entering Thatcher's storage house; she was now wearing the same leather clothing as Szene and the other women in the village. She approached Pirelle and took the offered wooden sword from his hands. "How would I go about-"
"Like this," Pirelle said, holding Claire's hand that was wrapped around the blade's handle. As Mossen stood up, he was stunned by how close the two were getting. He lifted the sword with her hand until it was arm's length distance from Claire, propping it up before shifting her feet to a combat stance that was suitable for a loyal knight. "This way, you have enough weight to attack from the left or right."
"Uh..." Claire began.
"Hm? What's wrong?" Pirelle asked, nervous at his teaching ability.
"Well, I don't know, this style doesn't really suit me that well. It feels a bit uncomfortable," Claire confessed. "How about something more sporty? Like this?"
Claire extended her arm forward until the wooden sword was fully extended outward, freely pointed in front of the presumed enemy. She rotated her right wrist slightly to the left before placed the back of her left hand next to her mouth, covering it to hide her identity partially to the wall.
Mossen laughed briefly, but kept it to himself. "I don't think you'll be getting far with a stance like that..." He jested.
"Yeah, I don't think that'll work," Pirelle confessed, stepping away from her. "You're bound to get yourself hurt like that."
"No, I don't think so," Claire was adamant about her fighting stance, so much to the point where she beckoned Pirelle to fight her in combat by tapping the side of his shoulder with the blade's edge. "Duel me." She blinked rapidly with a smirk.
Mossen's mouth widened in sarcastic awe. He sat on the edge of a small stair in the shed and casually placed his hands on his knee. "Looks like she wants to challenge you, Pirelle!" He teased. "Go easy on her, would ya?"
"Right," Pirelle sighed. "Let's get some protective gear on-"
"I won't need it." Claire retorted immediately.
Mossen's eyes widened. "Wow, confident. Playing Pirelle for a fool, eh?"
"Claire, if you get hurt-" Pirelle began.
"Are you scared, old man?" Claire teased, poking her sword at Pirelle's protective chest plate twice. "Or are you chicken?"
"Got you there." Mossen said.
Pirelle shook his head and began his combat stance, rearing his left leg back while priming his wooden blade. He adjusted his protective gear before grinning at Claire, who remained still in her elegant combat stance that she had invented. Tension filled the air. Silence was all that stood in their wake, despite having a complete rookie hold the blade. The same level of seriousness within a true sparring match set the stage.
"En Garde!" Pirelle and Claire both shouted at the same time.
Pirelle stepped forward and swung his wooden sword directly at Claire's right foot, hoping to strike her immediately to end the duel. However, he was outmatched by her speed so much to the point there was a single blur in his mind that blotted out his senses. Claire had only rose her right foot in the air, but her reaction speed was so preemptive that it seemed she was reading his mind.
She kept her natural position. Pirelle almost gasped at her speed, but it didn't stop him from striking down at her. He dashed forward and spun his blade to attempt and confuse Claire before sending a horizontal slash aiming for her shoulder.
Yet with one single flick of her wrist sent Pirelle's sword on the ground after striking directly at his palm without effort. She then stabbed Pirelle's chest, striking him with light force.
"Whoa!" Mossen yelled in amazement. "She got you good, didn't she?"
Pirelle scoffed. "Just going easy on her," He said, snatching his blade from the ground. "Take this!" He shouted before swinging his blade toward Claire's head, prompting her to block it with ease. However, the brutal nature of his strength pushed her sword down on the ground as she lost grip of the weapon. She then swung the sword directly at Claire's cheek, sending her collapsing to the ground.
"Oh, shit," Mossen said, rushing to her aid by darting forward. He held Claire's shoulder and back as she laid stomach down. "Claire, you okay?!"
"I'm fine," Claire said, turning around with a fervent expression of combat still locked within her gleaming white eyes. However, a bruise appeared on her cheek. Despite the pain of it all, she chose not to touch it any further, treating it as a mark of some sort. "I can take it."
"You should go see Thatcher and Szene," Mossen inquired. "We've got medicine that should patch you up-"
"I said, I'm fine!" Claire stated before dropping the wooden sword on the ground. She left the shed and slammed the door shut behind her.
Mossen and Pirelle exchanged glances with each other; Pirelle removed his protective gear and dropped his sword on the foam ground where they had sparred. He shrugged and shook his head in utter confusion.
"Man, why did you hit her so hard?" Mossen asked. "She's just a girl."
"She asked for it," Pirelle retorted. "Besides, she was pissing me off."
"Everyone knows you don't hit a girl like that! She wasn't pissing you off," Mossen said, approaching Pirelle, jabbing his index finger at his shoulder. "You just wanted to show off your strength to her because you like her."
"Oh, come on," Pirelle scoffed and rolled his eyes. "She's a Qliphosian."
"So, I'm wrong? Just say the truth-"
"She's a Qliphosian, Mossen!" Pirelle shouted. "People like her aren't liked among the public. How could they? I just wanted to teach her a lesson about what it means to mess with the wrong village."
"Come on, man! You know taking it out on her like that was uncalled for. Besides, I bet if she was good enough at fighting, she could have beaten your ass just by touching you. She did stab you once, after all."
Pirelle grabbed his sword off of the ground and tossed it directly at the back of the shed. "I don't give a damn about what you or her thinks. Just say it how it is. She's a freak. Just like what she did to that poor plantation owner we robbed." He strictly stated.
"Are you sympathizing with the enemy?" Mossen retorted.
"He WASN'T the enemy! Qliphos, and their damn rules are! Just look what they did to my parents!" Pirelle said, shoving Mossen back before stepping to the back of the shed. He placed his hands on his head and attempted to cool down his temper.
After several seconds after standing there stunned by his ally's anger, Mossen shook his head in denial. "Man, you gotta let that shit go." He said, before promptly opening the shed and stepping out. He closed the shed on the way out and made his way for the main house where Thatcher and Szene were at.
Yet he failed to realize that Claire remained by the side of the shed, listening in. She had shed multiple tears, covering her eyes with both of her palms before shamedly darting away from the house.
Meanwhile, in Thatcher's household while the boys were dueling amongst each other, Szene had locked the doors to the house to provide the utmost privacy among their conversation. The two of them had met personally to speak about the controversial issues that had happened yesterday after meeting Claire.
"I saw the mayor of our village speaking to someone at Qliphos Gate. Someone higher up," Szene began. "She had one of those battle droids by their side, and I bet they were trying to kill anyone who knew about their conversation."
"Hard to believe the mayor of all people would do that," Thatcher said. "Are you absolutely sure?"
"I'm not crazy, old man," Szene retorted. "And there was something wrong with that battle droid. What are they doing to those things in Qliphos? Why would they even be there?"
"Why are you asking me all this?"
"Aren't you close with the mayor?"
"Not too close, knew him a while ago," Thatcher said, biting down on a peeled and split orange. "I believe you, but I think there's nothing to worry about. Qliphos is protecting us from the monsters outside our village."
"But they never patrol that far, and if they do, they'd send soldiers, not the fucking mayor." Szene pointed out.
"Hey, language." Thatcher pointed out, extending his palm out.
"Sorry," Szene corrected in a whiny voice. "Look, old man, I'm not hallucinating this stuff! You should just ask Claire about it. She'll tell you everything and I bet she'll say it exactly the way I described it."
"I don't want to get her involved." Thatcher said.
"Oh, so you'd just give up on the whole thing?" Szene ashamedly denounced her father's cowardice. "If Qliphos is planning something, you're just gonna sit there and let them do it? Just take away our freedom even more to the point where we'd just submit to them?"
"Qliphos's protection is a gift, not a curse, Szene," Thatcher interjected, dropping his orange. "You're too young to understand."
"Oh, please."
"When you're older, you start to see things from another perspective-"
"Don't give me that shit!" Szene shouted back.
"Ehem, language-"
"No, I have a right to be angry! I can't believe you'd just let Qliphos run our village to the ground like this! What if those droids start coming to our village? How are you going to protect me and the others? Pirelle? Mossen? Huh?"
Thatcher approached Szene and touched her shoulder with his palm, holding it there. He gave a long blink before ashamedly confessing the truth about the situation they had been in. "This is how the world works in our lives, Szene. They give us protection, we pay it. This is the price to pay. We just have to deal with it. What do you think we can do about this?"
"Gee, I don't know, how about running away?" Szene sarcastically suggested.
"I didn't take our family for cowards."
"I'm NOT a COWARD!" Szene shouted back. "You're the coward for letting them get away with this, old man. I'm done with you." She said, unlocking the door out to the front door of their village before shutting it loudly behind her.
"Szene!" Thatcher called before his daughter was out of sight. He sighed before turning his eyes to the back of the house, catching Claire spying on the two of them. She then swiftly darted away as Thatcher sighed, returning to work on fixing their house without another word to say.