Practice Time

[MUKHTAR KEL GRES]

I DREAM OF GARDENS IN THE DESERT SAND

( I dream of love as time runs through my hand )
- - - - - - - - -

Muhktar slipped off his shirt in the dungeon he had chosen, one of several not in use for classes at the moment. It was a Saturday morning and early; he had chosen his time as he usually did, carefully. In the far corner were three statue-like duelers that were used in DADA classes sometimes, but he was going past them to a broken looking one in the dark corner. Pulling it out he dropped a metal circlet on it's 'head' and moved back towards the bag he had brought which was lying open. Reaching in quickly, he pulled out two parts of a staff (with a metal band halfway down it where the two parts connected) which was clearly too long for the bag and faced the shape that was rising in the dark corner. The two parts he screwed together till there was a click audible.

While broken, it hung in the air in it's former shape generally, the arms not intact, but still in the right places of a roughly human form. Once it was standing (missing the bottom part of a leg and half the chest cavity with cracks along all the appendages) it turned towards him. The device only activated the shapes of whatever it was on for a short time, but it was in his opinion a better training device then what wizards normally used. It struck at him and he parried with the staff, moving to strike at it's missing limb to which it jumped to avoid his blow. Over the next minute they exchanged and dodged, the sounds of wood on wood regular and rapid.

For this was a warriors trainer, not a dueler. And Muhktar could not afford to let his warriors skills die away when out of the desert. After about ten minutes, he backed off and managed to unscrew the middle of the staff giving him two long sticks which he raised barely in time for the next attack. Sweat on his brow another round began with the blows way faster, the dodges less, and he got smacked both along his upper outer thigh once and across his shoulder a minute later. Both caused him to fall back, but few of his blows made the device hesitate to come at him more. His frown of concentration grew as the minutes passed till he managed a blow to the head of the device which seemed to work as a 'pause,' the device backing off for a moment.

Long enough.

Dropping the staff on the bag he reached in and pulled out a sword from it's sheath, short and slightly curved with a matching dagger with a long sharp blade. His English uncle had gifted him the device circlet several years ago having seen him practice on a non-moving dummy and it had helped a lot to keeping his edge sharp which showed especially in the next minute. Anyone watching would have doubted a wand would be fast enough to stop the young boy who leapt at the device and began a rapid flow of twists, jumps, and rolls around the device moving far faster then it could keep up with and striking with the blades, showing where it's cracks had been coming from as they increased.

An observer would also have stopped thinking of him as a 'boy' during the practice which was much shorter, fiercer, and from the damage the dummy was taking much more deadly. While with the staves and staff he had hit multiple points (chosen in an order as he was taught to choose a targets pressure points (which would have disabled a human quick enough), with the blades he cut and sliced up the dummy till parts of it began falling off in the moments that passed. When he managed the final blow to the middle of the eyes, the entire thing finally cracked and broke into pieces, the circlet dropping to the floor to roll away into the wall with a 'clink' sound.

Muscles glistening with sweat, Muk knelt briefly, sword over one shoulder, dagger across his knees as he rested a moment. At no other time would one have seen how his muscles gleamed and throbbed slightly as he slowed his breathing. Clearly worn, it was not a moment he wished others to see hence the time and placement of his practice. There was, after all, no reason to let others know he was faster then most students at reacting, deciding, and putting thought into actions.

- - - - - - - - -

Words:752

Tags:
Lyrics: Desert Rose by Sting
Credit: Shava