laneys.info Beware of Yankees, drunks, and loose women.

Muffled scrubbing in the hallway was the only distraction the student had while she read her lesson for the week. Flora lore and xenobiotics were becoming a fascinating area of study for the witch-in-training as Agata sat within the large study. Light spilled down from the three chandeliers above and overpowered the lamps around the room, suspended on the walls by wrought iron holders. As she finished her computations in her notebook, familiar boots echoed into the doorway and blue eyes looked up to notice the weaponsmith as he stepped into the room. Tall, the martial artist's lean body confidently displayed muscles grown of toil in the forge and field alike.

"Ready," his deep voice called as he approached the table.

Nodding, Agata closed her book and stood. "How are you, Uncle Soren?"

"Fine," he grinned. "Although, haven't yet had the opportunity to test any of my weapons on a jedi. Ask me then."

She chuckled and followed him into the hallway and right to the training room. Opening up, the smooth, dark stone floor sported red fangs which resembled rising flame into the black background in the center of the room. Slowing, her right hand rose and summoned her staff which slowly moved towards the novice.

"You've been practising, I see," he commented. "Not bad."

"Mother taught me last week," she informed proudly as she turned and squared on her teacher.

"Today's lesson is..."

"Blindfolded," Maelona interrupted from the doorway, standing as a wraith in the shadow of the hall behind her.

"Blindfolded," Soren repeated. He reached into his thin, black leather vest and produced a long, dark brown cloth and approached Agata. Wrapping it around her eyes, he tied it off below her pony tail, then returned to his previous position. "Use the Force to block my attacks and make your own. Open your mind and allow yourself to mold the energy to your will."

Agata calmed herself and concentrated, feeling the ebb and flow soon as a flurry of attacks caught her off guard. Trying her best to anticipate his moves, it was several bruises later before her anger and fear honed her perceptions and she began to block nearly half of his strikes.

"Not bad," he commended. "But, you're better than this. Attack me!" he yelled as he continued his onslaught.

In her mind, she knew that she was betraying all she had been taught thus far and also knew that her mother was imagining how best to inspire more progress in the young acolyte.

"A jedi is trying to kill you," Maelona screamed. "This effort is pitiful. You're wasting our time!"

As tears welled with the constant barrage, she finally lunged and attacked, ignoring the countering strikes and hits until a solid strike to the side of her head sent sparks into her vision. Frustrated, she fell to her knees as desperation drove her on. Anger turned to hatred at her failings. Screaming, she jumped up and felt the weapon in her hand, the air around them and her opponent as she used the energy within her and focused it in her hands.

"That's it!" Soren yelled. "Good!"

Echoing within the square-shaped room, the pop of wood carried on as grunts of exertion mixed in until she felt the power coursing through her veins.

"Outstanding," the elder stated, motioning with his hand and stopping her cold with a cushion of air. "That's it, you did it."

Agata stopped, panting from the fight as her soreness melted into her emotion. It felt great, she thought as he untied the blindfold and blue eyes turned to him, glowing with anger.

"Next time," Maelona began. "You'll beat him without getting hit once. Is that understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," she replied as her mother turned and headed back to her lab without waiting for a reply. As she relaxed however, the pain from the multiple bruises overpowered the adrenaline. But, there were medicines for that.

* * *

Once lunch was completed, she went to her room and closed the door. Padding across the thick carpet, she entered the bathroom and turned to face the mirror. As she undressed, she noticed the purple splotches that dotted her lean body. Sore muscles ached as she removed her shirt and pants, then raised her arms to untie her ponytail. The long, hot bath was soothing and she nearly fell asleep.
Within two months they would be finding out the location for their next meeting. She knew it would be a few years before she got the chance to compete with other acolytes to become a full-fledged witch herself. Imagining her victory, standing over the bruised body of her opponent, her mother might actually smile as Agata accepted her necklace and finally got to wear the tatoos of a Sith on her forehead like the ones that her mother kept under her greying black hair. Soon.