Swords and Saiyans (Invite Kayen)

“And one more thing. Bring me Mr. Cress. I never got to give him a real fight after Namek.” The young half saiyan continued playing prince while waiting for the queen herself to arrive. Really this was far more enjoyable than he thought it had any right to be. There was no one besides himself in the actual throne room so he was dictating to no one. Yet he had to admit the chair itself made the boy feel really powerful. “Now, I must adjourn to the-” wait was that Kayen he sensed? Just as she entered the room, Tarch could pick up her incredible power. Unfortunately, he didn’t pick it up fast enough to move before she came in.  

“Eep!” A surprised afterimage of Tarch was left on the throne as the real one immediately zipped off of the royal seat.  All of his excitement and bravado left with it. “Sorry Ms. Kayen,” he apologized, giving a small bow. He looked back up at the queen for a brief moment, his eyes drifting away uncomfortably. He was still scared of her. His chest felt heavy, a slight itch coming over the spot Kayen slashed all those months ago. The awkwardness of just standing there didn’t help either. He was after all here to try and overcome both his fear of her and swords.  The young hybrid figured he should get to the point of why he was in her chair in the first place, or rather in the room.

“I’m uh, I’m actually here to… Hang on a sec?” Tarch quickly ducked behind the throne to pick up a long thin bag. He reached inside and pulled out the wooden sword Kayen gave him while on Namek. “I wondered, if it’s no trouble ma’am, maybe we could practice. Not like last time of course. I mean like you actually teach me instead of me… well being a dummy.” He then pulled on the stretchy piece of armor covering his torso. “I even wore my armor this time so I don’t… you know.” Tarch pulled a little lower, showing the topmost part of the long white streak going across his chest. In all honesty, the boy was expecting another no and was, in fact, ready for it. Just like last time though he was not going to take no for an answer, granted not as stubbornly as he did on Namek. “I just really want to get over my fear of swords, or blades in general I guess.  Y'know?”

Tarch was ready to be turned down. In fact, he had an entire speech ready to convince the queen why she should teach him and how he would be perfectly fine and other childish points of logic. However, he was both surprised and relieved when Kayen said yes, and even encouraged that the teen to overcome his fear of swords. The young half saiyan let out a deep sigh, a smile stretching across his face.

“Really? Awesome!” With her agreement to train him, Tarch’s apprehension had all but vanished. Of course, Kayen was still an intimidating woman, to say the least, but Tarch couldn’t help but admire her. He also couldn’t help but let out a nervous chuckle when she mentioned taking a blast of sword slash to bare skin. “Yeah, I definitely learned my lesson about that. I guess it’s not all bad. The kids at school say I have a cool scar across my chest now. Come to think of it, I have quite a few scars.” Tarch’s gaze shifted randomly around the room, a hand going to his chin. Over the years he attained quite a few marks and not all of them from fights or anything ki related. He shrugged, figuring he could think more on it later. For now, he had to answer her query about his fear of blades. “Well it was really weird. See after our fight, I didn’t really think much of it. I mean it was scary as hell when it happened, but it wasn’t until someone pulled swords on me. I didn’t know they were dull until after the fight… but as soon as one got close to me…” Tarch rubbed an hand over his chest, his breath catching in his throat slightly. He quickly shook his head clear, not wanting to go into another long winded shpiel about his time on Namek. Instead, he’d just give a short version. “Namek really messed me up.  Heck, I can't even put out my full power. But I didn’t think our fight got to me that much. So now I wanna start fixing all that!” Tarch then jumped into an overly dramatic ready position with his wooden sword in hand.

“So what first? I’m ready whenever you are Ms. Kayen.” He then looked at his feet, his toes practically pointing in toward himself, his knees completely locked. The half saiyan shifted himself, bending his knees as if he was fighting regularly, and pointing his feet more outward. If he was fighting with his fists, the stance might not have been half bad, but he had no idea if this was right for swordplay. Then another thought crossed his mind, a tinge of fear creeping back into his voice. “Umm. you’re not going to use Fateburn for practice are you?” Knowing Kayen, it was a fifty-fifty shot whether or not she was going to use a real sword against a wooden one.  Maybe she would skip wood entirely and give Tarch the real thing.  Scary thought.

Tarch couldn’t help but laugh, not at the queen, but in a sort of sympathetic chuckle. It was incredible just how alike he was to Ms. Kayen. Of course, she was also a lot like his mother, so it should really come to no major surprise. Still, they both had plenty of scars and were both likely to acquire more before they were finished their respective fighting days. Naturally, Tarch had plenty more ahead of him and was already gathering lines all over his body at such a young age. But that wasn’t what really stuck out to him in their conversation. It was Kayen’s mention of Tarch being constantly on edge on namek, always needing to keep his guard up.

“Huh… Y’know, that’s kinda a simpler version of what Nashua told me. Ms. Ramen had another theory too. She said it was because I have so much power at such a young age. I dunno if that’s really a thing, but with how strong she is I guess she would know better than I would. They both make sense to me though.” Tarch would definitely have to keep this in mind for his future fights. The question was though, should he really worry about accessing his full power normally? For now, the two saiyans would focus on blades, thankfully, wooden ones. Tarch let out a small squeak of fright when he heard Fateburn lodge itself into the wall from the saiyan queen’s mighty throw.  Though startled initially, the hybrid was incredibly relieved to know that the cleaver would not be used to train him.  Thinking about it, how would training someone with that thing even work?

Now it was time to fix his godawful stance. This was something Tarch had grown used to, having taken years to even get a decent footing for using his fists. So it was not all that discouraging to once again be told his stance needed fixing. It turned out that swordplay had a much more different pose, feeling oddly relaxed around parts he would normally keep rigid. Tarch shifted to lean more with the blade, almost hovering over it while keeping his center of gravity behind him. He also slid his right hand further up the handle, the left one staying put. It felt awkward, but not entirely uncomfortable.

“So like this?” he asked, moving his left foot forward. “I feel like I’m keeping my back too straight though.” While on the right track, he must have looked downright goofy. It was obvious this child never held a sword properly in his life. “Should I bend my elbows more or…?” Tarch was definitely glad his current sword was made of wood, else he would likely be covered head to toe in tiny nicks and cuts from all of his adjustments.

“Okay, I think I can get this.” Looking a little less awkward than before, the teen let his back fall naturally into a comfortable position. “Wow, that is much better already!” Tarch sighed, bouncing on his toes in anticipation. Perhaps it was his saiyan DNA, but he seemed to take to this quite well. He would dare say he got the stance for swordplay better than he did for martial arts. Of course, that was blind optimism on his part. Though his back felt much more relaxed and natural, his arms looked like an awkward combination of too stiff and too loose at the same time. Of course, that would come with practice.

Just as he was starting to feel a little more at ease with his wooden blade, a guard came in holding Kayen’s training blade. Tarch let out a barely audible sigh of relief. While he knew it was a ludicrous notion, he was worried she would just get a wooden version of Fateburn. Though her sword was definitely larger than Tarch’s which made sense seeing how she was a beast of a woman anyways. Seeing his teacher taking her own practice swings made Tarch think he should try doing the same. So he started in short overhead chopping motions, repeating in similar swings each time. It definitely felt strange having something in his hands while fighting, or in this case training. Tarch looked back up to Kayen, turning to face her in what he hoped was a more proper stance. “So. What now?  Are you gonna go sorta step by step or do we just kind of go at it, but like, slower than a normal fight? Like a really basic practice one.”

Well, the form was down, now it’s time for function. Funnily enough, this was almost the exact opposite of Tarch’s experience with hand to hand combat. When using his fists, the young half saiyan could not for the life of him get the stance down for a good few years, and that wasn’t until he finally met a teacher with the same if not higher power than himself. Of course, once the fight actually started, his fists would fly with the power and precision he worked hard to achieve. Now he was starting with what he perceived as the best of the best and managed to get the swordplay stance down surprisingly well, with only a few flaws here and there as to be expected. His swings were a whole different story.

Tarch watched Kayen as intently as he could, making notes of how her arms and wrists turned, down to the subtle movements of her legs and feet. Thus, with a deep breath and practice sword in hand, Tarch swung his blade about as stiffly as you would expect a child with a fear of blades to do.  Almost the exact opposite of his previous experience.  Going from sloppy stance and good attacks, to good stance but sloppy attacks. It was a mess, and even Tarch himself could feel it was wrong. He looked over at the saiyan queen, his cheeks burning a rosy pink. The hybrid gave the air a few more swings, each one with about equal measures of success. In fact, as he went on, he felt as if his practice strikes were getting worse. Tarch began getting inside of his own head, each time trying to pinpoint where exactly he messed up, then hyper-focus on that while letting everything else fall to the wayside. Despite his mistakes though, Tarch was far from giving up.

“Uh Ms. Kayen?” he asked tentatively, “Is it okay if I start swinging at you? I think this might be easier if I have something, or I guess someone in this case in front of me.” He thought it was a reasonable enough request. Tarch felt more comfortable with at least a dummy or punching bag in front of him when he first began learning martial arts, so he figured it might be worth a shot with a sword. Besides, a tough and strong fighter like Kayen should have no problems blocking his puny swings. Besides, she did say that was the next step anyway.

So Tarch gave a couple more practice swings just in case, before shuffling over to his teacher. He looked her over, wondering what to start with first. The overhead chop was certainly the easiest. Then Tarch had an idea. “One sec.” Obviously he knew better than to stretch during a real fight, but this was basic training at best. So the teen took a moment to stretch out his limbs, trying to work out that awkward stiffness. “Okay, here goes.” He’d take his first swing at Kayen. It still wasn’t pretty, like at all. But having something to aim at definitely seemed to make his swings move more naturally. His biggest problem was the amount of wind up and hesitations between strikes. A few more practice swings later, and though they weren’t that good, he at least wasn’t getting worse again.

Tarch felt a little better being corrected while he was aiming at his teacher. Something about making improvements while actually trying to hit something felt better than if it was while he was flailing around at the open air. To further make a bad situation better, her little points about stance, reminders about grip only served to help as intended. Soon, while his form and strikes still needed much work, his attitude improved. This allowed the teen to think a little more clearly, as well as process Kayen’s tips better. There was one key point that struck Tarch as a little odd but in a good way. Think of the sword as an extension of himself.

“So think of the sword as an extension of myself. So like a second head. Wait... huh?” What in the Nation of the Saiyan Kingdom of Vegeta possessed him to say that? That didn’t even make any sense. “No. More like a really sharp arm. Yeah, that makes much more sense.” Tarch resumed his stance, this time looking a little sloppier. This time, though certainly far from perfect, his swing was far more natural and fluid. Even Tarch had to take a second to admire his handiwork. The queen was right. Having a partner really did help, and thinking of the sword as another part of his body helped even more. Now, Tarch only had one question left, though not entirely about the training.

“Yeah! Maybe I can practice this some with my mom. The coolest thing about Kohlra coming back into my life is having a parent that understands my powers and stuff.” He then took another swing during the break in his little spiel. “She does have some cool but scary friends though,” he joked before taking another swipe. It seemed like an innocent enough segue into the topic of mothers. Of course, Tarch didn’t realize this could be a potential sore spot for the older saiyan. “Did your mom teach you how to use a sword Ms. Kayen?”