8 – Piece by Piece

"She's... cute," Yamato said, staring down at the jackal pup as she engaged the tip of his boot in mortal combat. Though she fought valiantly, growling around the well-worn leather, it seemed unlikely she'd win. "Guess she's from the mountains. Must have come down amidst the chaos." He gestured absently across the field, to the decapitated remains of Mount Gruai.

"I thought she was a plains jackal?" I asked.

He shrugged listlessly. "They mainly live in lowlands but it's not uncommon for them to go into more mountainous terrain. Either for food or shelter," he said.

"Hm. Meat eater, then?" I'd primarily been giving her leftovers from my breakfast, which she ate without complaint. Smoke did complain but I was sure he'd get over himself soon enough.

Yamato considered this, the ruined half of his face twitching slightly. "I've known them to eat just about anything."

"Suppose that's reassuring. How big do they grow?"

Yamato pondered the question, his good eye rolling skyward. "Mm. Bit smaller than your hellcat, for the most part. I've heard tell there's some that can grow pretty freakishly big though. My friend Taka once said-" he stopped, the reminder of his losses smacking him head on. Then he sighed. "Well... it's likely she'll be just a big dog when she's older. You're... thinking of keeping her?"

"I should hope not!" Smoke shouted from the distant chicken coop.

"Just gather the damn eggs," I called back. He'd been such a damned brat ever since the jackal appeared.

"They're not typically pets. Then again neither are hellcats," Yamato reasoned. "If she doesn't turn out to be a spirit beast, you'll want to keep a very close eye on her. Especially around other animals."

The jackal had gotten bored of Yamato's boot and lay on her side, the stub of her tail thudding the grass.

"Mm. She knows how to fight, and those teeth of hers are sharp." I reached down and pet her around her bandages, ignoring the nips along my hand I got in return. I'd been bitten by far bigger, far meaner beasts. Like the twin mountain apes the Duke of Gesthe had dropped on my head.

I stole a glance to the coop. Last thing I needed was her getting in there and making a meal of them.

"Keep an ear out, just in case," I said.

Yamato stared down at me, as if he wanted to protest, but he ultimately sighed and nodded. "If it's what needs doing, it's what needs doing."

Lad didn't seem to have any fight left in him. A far cry from the walking pillar of arrogance I once knew.

I'd be lying if part of me didn't feel at least somewhat sad about that. He'd been insufferable, true, but there's something just inherently disheartening about seeing anyone broken. Even if it's someone you dislike.

Hells... sometimes especially if it's someone you dislike. Hits you all the harder.

"You feel up to practising with your sword?" I asked.

He stared at me with his good eye. "Don't know if you should trust me with sharp things."

"Aye, well," I shrugged, "it's a quiet day and much of the work is done. Why not sneak in some exercise?"

Yamato silently raised his right hand, flexing the fingers a few times. "Maybe with practice swords," he eventually said.

It wasn't hard to find two branches by the roadside, which I sharpened and shaped with a little black knife forged from my power. I could've made a blunt metal sword for each of us, but felt it was best to err on the side of caution and stick to wooden swords.

Yamato weighed his in his hands, gripping it and making a few testing slashes at the air with it. For a moment, and only a moment, he stood a little taller with his shoulders squared.

His stance was wide-legged, the tip of the makeshift sword aimed my way. I held mine in my right hand, my left arm tucked behind my back. It was a style preferred by Ilgardians in their duels of honour.

We'd made for a clearing beyond my land, am unassuming grove of trees with red blossoms. The leaves had been falling steadily these past few days, covering the forest floor in pools of red that stirred at even the mildest breeze.

"Come on then," I challenged. "Show me what you can do."

Yamato sucked in a breath, and I felt the air grow dense as his magicka flowed forth and into his body.

Our practice blades clacked together in a flurry of movements, Yamato was all aggression while I focused on defense. Save for meditation and farm work, he hadn't done much to keep in shape. But he was ferocious and inhumanly quick in motion, a reminder he could easily kill any normal man if he saw fit to.

If anything he seemed more aggressive now, practically frothing at the mouth as he hurled himself at me. Magicka flowed through our bodies, into the makeshift swords to render them far tougher than they should have been.

Even so I could almost feel the wood protesting from the abuse as I parried his strikes.

I sidestepped a stab and lightly thwacked his shoulder on his blind side. Yamato twisted, flailed, nearly fell over entirely, and righted himself in time to glower at me. Again he came at me, this time making deft upward slashes that I either blocked or wove around.

I'd gotten so used to seeing the former young master moping around that it was a surprise to see that anger in his face. The more we fought the angrier he seemed to get, and in that anger he briefly came alive.

We clashed, the earth shuddered, and Yamato's face twisted in anger again. His assault was relentless, swift, but again I was able to trick him. A feint, and he moved to guard, only to get another tap on his blind side.

“Fuck!” Yamato hissed, stomping away from me. “Fucking...SHIT!” He lifted the branch and shattered it over his knee.

“Calm yourself,” I said. “It’s only trainin-”

“It’s only a reminder that I’m fucking crippled! Half-fucking-blind!” he snapped.

I was silent for a few moments, staring over at him. “If you ever plan on being a warrior again you need to know that people will try to exploit that weakness of yours. You need to learn how to work around it.”

“Oh yes. So bloody easy to just work around a missing fucking eye, isn’t it?” he hissed.

“It’s frustrating, but not insurmountable,” I said, holding a hand towards him.

His frown deepened, and he glanced away from me. Small tremors rocked his shoulders. “When the sect was destroyed, it was a clear sign that I was nowhere near as strong as I thought I was. Nowhere near strong enough to protect those closest to me. The wounds are a constant reminder of that. And a constant reminder that all my potential, everything I could have been, it’s all gone to shit now.” He shook his head. “Nothing left now. Just a fucking bad joke.”

I’d never been good with words, and I knew any I tried to speak would just be lame platitudes.

So I let him go, watching as he stalked off into the wilderness. “I’m sorry,” he said without looking back. “I need... time. Alone. Just so that I can catch my breath.”

I sighed. “Right.”

I’d always been far better at breaking people than putting them back together again.