The prior day, she had her meeting at the administration building with the stand in for the Mizukage. The meeting, in Alwen’s mind, had gone okay, although the reality is it remained to be seen. And today, Alwen had somewhat of a follow up meeting… Somewhat. Rather than at the administration building, this was at the manor of which the person she was meeting was the lord of. Furthermore, this was a meeting about her employment there. So, in a sense, it was also its own meeting. But none of this was important, merely thoughts and labels to an encounter that really, only mattered to one or two people. So, early in the morning, the girl got ready, leaving and heading throughout the fog covered streets of Kirigakure, heading in the direction of the place of meeting; the Osada manor.

After a two hour walk at a somewhat brisk pace, clad in rather grey and bleak attire, Alwen arrived at the rope based ferry that existed to guide travellers to and from the island. A ferry that seemed to pull itself. Not that Alwen cared, instead sitting down on the wooden panels of the ferry and watching the water, amber eyes staring intensely for any sight of fishes. To her dismay, the water was too bleak and lifeless, and she found no such sight to amuse her. Still, it didn’t hurt to try, and it allowed time to further pass her by, the ferry having arrived to the shore of the manor grounds. With a hop, her feet left the wooden flooring of the ferry, finding footing on the somewhat green ground of the Osada manor, veiled in a thin mist like one would expect of a place within the land of water. Sighing softly to herself, the literally horned girl began walking towards the somewhat aged building of the manor.

Alwen made note of the greenery, or perhaps, the lack thereof as she walked, making a mental note of the array of thorns, moss, weeds and other untended foliage. Well, perhaps untended was the wrong word, as it was clear that some care had been taken into the plants. However, not a priority amount of care, or enough for it to really count as care. A somewhat menacing appearance, if plants could be called such. A shrug, and Alwen continued, taking the sight as an example of something to work on upon being properly employed, considering that was why she was here. Now at the rather intricately designed door in front of her, the suiton specialist paused, composing her thoughts and breath, and allowing herself to take a quick look around once more. Grey clouds, and cobwebs in the corners of the wall, just above the doorframe. Given all of her prior visits, Alwen was not surprised. Preparing for anything, even a skeleton falling out in front of her given how creepy the vibes this building could give, Alwen of the Sangotatsu raised her hand and knocked on the door.

501

Sero was sitting upon his chair in the main hall. Pillars lining up on either side of a flat floor with an arched roof. At the head of the main hall was a set of stone steps leading up to a rather tall arm chair. Black velvet cushioned the seat and the back on top of silver frame. The base of the chair wide while the top was narrow with the symbol for Osada emblazoned in grey at the top. Around the roof were murals of what appeared to be fires and battle. Paintings of some shadow looming over bandits and pirates. Some burned while others fought. The battle seemed to be mostly the dead and wounded with fires burning shelters further down the hall growing more intense the closer to the throne it got. Until finally on the back wall was two armored figures with swords drawn and pointed at the throne itself. One was a shining armor without a mark on it. Supposedly meant to symbolize the pure of heart. The other was in Samurai gear and was wounded and bloodied but still standing. It was meant to represent strife. An interesting depiction Sero had requested. To him it was a simple translation. He was war moving through out his lifetime. In the end either the pure would demand his head out of a lack of need for the evil he was or the amount of pain he wrought upon the world would become the end of him.

Sero was sitting there in grey robes. A single black sash crossed his waist and over his shoulder while his Kiri headband rested over his neck. Next to him was a stand was set up. It appeared to be a series of metal spiders moving up in steps and upon it rested four B rank katana. Each stacked a layer higher than the other. He had intentions for them this morning. Still his grey eyes watched the door with little expression as crimson stained claw like nails tapped the edge of his chair. The sound of his impatience ringing across the hall. It wasn't until a spider skittered down the top of his chair that his attention was broken. Its body came to a stop on his shoulder as its front legs affectionately stroked around his ear. A sensation Sero would fail to feel as it whispered. It's twin fangs splitting apart awkwardly to form human speech in but a whisper. It spoke of the Ferry moving and a young girl coming. A strange horned one Sero had given the order not to feed upon. Sero would lift a hand and provide a small juice packed meat treat for the spider. Ignoring it as it snapped up the treat and scurried away to feed before its brethren could demand any. The messenger had been rewarded for his grand news. His new student was coming.

Sero would take in bated breath by bated breath. The hall growing darker with his anticipation. The faint light coming in from window pains stained with creatures not of this world. Unless someone had been to the underwater city that was. Many of the windows showed different forms the dark beast below was known to take. He had encountered it on occasion and was fascinated by something he could not kill. Still when the knock finally came the light seemed to snap back into being and the shadows retracted with a sigh like a passing breeze. Sero would lift his hand and feel out through the manor. Feel through the chakra connections to the chakra switch for the front door and the door across the main entrance into the main hall. Both would click and swing open and leaves would blow in through the open door. Alwen would be met with silence. However something was not normal here. Nothing shifted beyond the leaves which they too began to grow still as if they dared not move further in. No mouse moved, no bird cried. No sound permeated these halls. It was almost unnerving. Nothing dared make noise and as that became clear it also became noticeable the knock was all that much louder. If she entered the door would close behind her as if on its own with a slamming sound. Plunging her into a dim light with the light from the main hall where Sero waited for her ever more present.

738

A light clicking sound, and the door ahead of her began swinging open slowly, ominously, creaking open to reveal a pitch dark opening, almost like a tunnel of darkness with a single source of light. She paused at the entrance for but a moment before stepping forth into that endless abyss ahead of her. As she stepped inside, the door closed behind her, and Alwen couldn’t help but look back for a brief glance, before looking ahead of her once more. It was lighter now that she was actually inside, although the décor was as bleak as she remembered in terms of colour, giving a rather gothic feeling to the whole room. Her footsteps were light on the floor as she stepped forwards, looking up the stairs to the ominous figure of Sero Osada, seated upon his throne in the main hall. The horned girl bowed, a formality she never really understood, but was a formality nonetheless.

Having already gone through the acts of gathering her breath, and keeping herself together, Alwen spoke up now, addressing the man before her, keeping her voice light and gentle, as Alwen tended to be, not having the timid nature it had from the last encounter; the girl now at least knew what sort of man the lord of the manor was. “As requested, I am here to discuss with you my employment here at the manor. I hope I did not keep you waiting, and you know, stuff like that…” the casualness of Alwen slips out, as she for a moment forgets her manners. Quickly reminding herself of where she is though, the girl adjusts her posture accordingly, before fixing her complacency. “Ah, while I remember, is there a particular title you want me to call you? Lord? Mister? Boss man? Whatever title suits your fancy, I’ll use.” She added with a nod, before shuffling to the side, adjusting her posture once more to be something perhaps a bit more fitting of the situation, looking around and now taking in further the decorations, carvings, and iconography located around. It all seemed pretty bleak, but, considering what details Yasuo had provided, what she saw when here before, and what little she knew about the man before her, this was entirely expected.

As her words echoed dully in the room, Alwen waited in silence, amber eyes taking in the details around her, while keeping most of her focus at attention, towards the lord of the manor. The man in question was simply dressed, in dark colours as Alwen would have imagined of someone like him, and surrounded by fanciful ornaments that perhaps doubled as a bit more than simple ornaments; katana. Quite a numerable amount of them as well, something that perhaps further signified the wealth of resources. Overall, the gothic and intense atmosphere of the location was almost stark in contrast with the general appearance of the girl; the dye in her hair probably being one of many signifiers that she isn’t exactly a formal or grim individual.

504 + 501 = 1005

Sero would watch with grey eyes as she entered the hall. Never blinking and never shifting. Like a statue that simply stared at her as he waited. She would approach to a comfortable distance before bowing formally. He too would bow his head in return. A simple nod but for the lack of movement from him it seemed a rather sudden shift. She would speak then and his eyes would scan her for weapons before he would note anything of consequence. Satisfied he would rise from his seat and seem to almost float across the dimly lit steps to the floor of the hall. The moment his foot touched the ground suddenly every torch on the pillars and each candle on the chandeliers would flare to life with fire. As if the room responded to his movement. She had come before him and within his own home. So many had challenged him here and so many had fallen. Stains only recently removed from the stone floors. Still it was hard to tell if he walked or simply glided to her as he would circle her. A bird of prey eyeing its next meal. Still he would stop next to her. His pale hand reaching out as crimson claws would lift the dyed hair as he tilted his head. How odd. Still he would let it fall before replying to her.

"Lord Osada when company is present. In private feel free to utilize my name or whatever else you choose. We wish for you to be comfortable when you are working here. As for discussing your employment."

Sero would lift his hand and two of the Katana would seem to fade from the stand next to his chair in wisps of smoke. One moment they were there and the next they seemed to have melted into the air. If she looked away and looked back the two swords would now be gripped tightly together in his hand. His other hand would reach out palm up and it too would have mist form out of it before a simple Waist band made of cloth with the Osada symbol on the front would form there. Quietly he would hand her the waistband and if she would put it on he would hand her the twin Katana. Giving her weapons and a method to hold them. If she examined them though she would notice a seal on the hilt of each. Carved in carefully.

"Here at the Manor we have enemies. I am a target for many an organization. Typically bandits and pirates are foolish enough to attempt to sneak onto the island and deal some damage. More to the infrastructure since they learned they aren't capable of dealing with me. However should they spot you I have no doubt they might attempt to kill or ransom you. As such I am going to teach you to use those weapons effectively. More weapons will be taught to you in the future but for now you will learn the feel of the leather grip, the weight of the blade and the balance of it all. Once this lesson has ended, I , should you still seek employment here, will provide you with a seal granting you access to unsealing these so you don't have to keep them on your person. "

1294

Alwen stood motionless as the man seemingly glided down to her level, walking around her. Continuing to look ahead of her, she felt fingers brush against her, hair moving with the touch, before a just as sudden withdrawal. As he spoke, she listened, taking mental note once more. Lord in company, and whatever she felt comfortable with when in private. With a nod, she replied. “You got it boss man.” A really, really informal way of referring to him, and realistically, not one she’d use often. However, its silliness alleviated her personal tension somewhat, which in such a close encounter to the ominous figure, helped. Then, he went on about the discussion for employment, moving his hand. Her eyes glanced to the side at a wisp of movement in her peripheral vision. The katana, two of them had disappeared. She looked back to the Osada, and to her surprise, in his hand were the two missing katana.

The Suiton user raised an eyebrow at the surprise, watching with curiosity piqued as he began to produce a waistband from mist, holding it out to Alwen. Taking the hint, the girl began putting on the waistband, then taking the katana as Sero held them to her as well. A quick glance, and she noted the ornate carving into the details of the hilt of the weapons, something akin to a seal. But, this was a thought for later. It seemed that her employer had something to say. Quickly, she put the katana at their place at her side, before standing at attention, listening intently. He spoke of enemies to the manor, something she recalls him saying before, speaking of bandits and pirates. Lesser enemies perhaps, or, ones that he felt would be more danger to Alwen than the manor, judging from how the conversation progressed. To her surprise, it seemed that he was intent on teaching her the way of the blade. This, to Alwen, would be grand, and would show in her expression as her face seemingly lightened. The idea that this wasn’t just going to be a formal meeting, while something she expected, was a relief nonetheless. She wasn’t exactly the most formal person. So, humming quietly, Alwen waited for the Osada to finish what he was saying, before nodding slowly, letting her hands symmetrically slide down her side, feeling the smooth of the blades at her side before stroking up the handles, getting an idea of their positioning at her side, and waving side to side slightly, in a somewhat silly way of getting used to the extra weight. After a slight pause, she finally spoke up, grinning as she gave her two cents. “Okay then, so… I know a little bit about weapons, although, not anything this fancy. I’ve got the waistband on, and, the two fancy swords. You’re the one who knows what they’re doing, so, instruct away Sero!” she would then await the instructions of the man, keeping her usual light demeanour about her as she awaited what she would be doing.

506 + 1005 = 1511

He would watch her adorn her weapons and tilt his head as he did so. Like watching a child with a butchers knife. He wondered how much Yasuo would be stitching up this one. His grey eyes stared through here as if they were staring at nothing. The eyes of the dead as grey as the grave. One might of mistaken him for being blind if not for the way that his eyes would suddenly snap to staring at them. Many an enemy had woken to a shadow in the corner of the room. Only their eyes visible in the dark and they knew when they looked into those grey depths there was no soul within. They always began screaming well before a blade was ever pulled. He wondered if this one would fear the blade or embrace it as a part of herself. His eyes shifted to the handle of her blades in a jutting movement as he considered every life these blades had ever taken. Each man they had cut down. He did not own a weapon he had not used. It was a ritual of his to baptize a new blade in the blood of his enemies.

Still she grinned and spoke up in a cheerful tone. Just like Maigo and Nozomi, always so cheerful about something so serious. Once again Sero took it as them taking the entire situation too lightly. War was his machine and he maintained it constantly. He couldn't understand how someone could pick up a weapon, even a kunai and not understand the weight of it. What a weapon was and what it was meant for. His grey eyes snapped back to look into hers and this time not through her but directly into her eyes. Like staring into her being and as he did the room seemed to grow dimmer as the light from the torches flickered away from him. Almost going out but not entirely. Shadows stretched across his face as the other two swords appeared on his own belt in a swirl of black mist that seemed to drip away from the weapons as it faded. Dripping onto the floor but leaving no liquid behind. The room seemed to have a low growl in the darkest corners as Sero stepped forward and would reach out with a pale hand. Attempting to grip her wrist and force her hand to the hilt. Force her to grab the sword.

"When you wield a blade, hammer, or bow you do not do so as a kindness. We are not the builders of this nation, we are retribution for those who would tear any of it down. When they come here for us they come to maim, torment, kill and worse things beyond that. The kind of activities they would have planned for you would be far less convenient than dying I am sure of that. Know that when you draw a blade against another you will not cut as deep without the intent to kill, you will not counter as fast without the drive to survive. In the end you must be more brutal than you opponent and they must fear you or they will always try and conquer you."

1833

It seemed to the Sangotatsu that perhaps she had taken the wrong mind-set into learning the blades at her side. As Sero stared directly into her eyes, Alwen felt her resolve falter somewhat – her nerves grew slightly weak at the seeming ferocity within the grey that currently bore into her mind. The cheer in her expression faded in an instant as the tone of the room suddenly grew sour, tense. She would stand still as he approached, allowing that deathly grip to take hold of her wrist, guiding her hand to the hilt of her sword. Hand now on the weapon, she kept her gaze uneasily at the lord Osada as he spoke, his words heavier than lead. Alwen had always kept the idea of weapons being, well, a weapon, to the side of her mind, yet now it was being a perspective she couldn’t avoid. The idea that now, she had enemies in life, enemies she hadn’t even met yet. Furthermore, the concept of a fate worse than death… She shuddered at the thought, moving on as his explanation did.

Taking a moment to fully understand the words that she was told, she nodded slowly. As a member of the manor… No, as a shinobi of the hidden mist, Alwen couldn’t afford to be merciful or kind. The idea hurt her somewhat, for the girl was aware that to the enemy, she was also just an enemy. But there wasn’t any way she could deny the man’s words; people could indeed be malicious enough to kill her on sight, or… Worse. She looked to the floor for a moment, allowing the thoughts to go through her head, and steeling her resolve. Her grip on the blade tightened as she looked up once more, steadied breathing, and looking back up at the Osada. The amber of her eyes was dull, as if the previous vigour and excitement left as the realisation struck. Of course, this is Alwen, and in any future situations, her oddity would no doubt return. But the seriousness of the situation called for a differ in her persona. And so, slowly easing the grip of the blade, not loosely, but not scrunching her blade, she focused entirely on the lord Osada.

Somewhat quietly, gulping as the idea of the severity of the training’s potential occurred to her, she spoke up. “Understood sir. I uh… I’m sorry for not understanding the weight of this. I, well, whenever you want, I’m ready to begin training. I don’t exactly like the idea of being at the mercy of an enemy, and if for the sake of the village I am to be merciless, then I shall. Please, train and refine me.” Her final words resounded as she took her left hand, placing it to the opposite blade, so that both of her hands were now in a position to have access to the weapons and draw if needed, taking a light but firm grip of each and now simply awaiting orders. Her training was about to begin, and the girl had to prepare to be broken down, and built back up.

521 + 1511 = 2032

Sero would watch her for the moment. His words were a truth not many ever cared to have realized in their life. A part of the nation many feared and judged but one those of he manor would learn to embrace in time. Embrace the truth that such a nation needed those who would carve through living people without a second thought that threatened it. Sero had embraced it for as long as he could remember. Taking a life was just another activity one took up. A hobby to go out and hunt those who would do him harm. He did not fear man for man was just another thing that lived and died. All men bled and all men could be brought to the edge of a blade. He himself had been brought to the edge before and though he had never known physical pain he had watched his blood stain a battlefield. He would have it no other way. War was a birthright and peace a child's dream. Even as he gazed over the child before him he could see that dream fading away to the realization. Perhaps she would grow to hate him for the truth. Perhaps resent him. However she would know it now. She would know to survive, she would kill.

Sero watched Alwens grip tighten on her sword and felt in that moment a sense of conviction. A dawning of a new warrior. She had not truly become a soldier when she graduated the academy. None did. Only now as she held that wooden handle wrapped in cloth under her hand and gripped steel did she understand. He watched her eyes lift to meet his again and did not detect fear and reservation. He did not sense within her a hesitation that would drive her to an early grave. She had taken to his words and even now her conviction was apparent. He could only hope that it would last within her when they truly began. To learn the sword could be a painful experience. Still she spoke, She understood the weight of it and wished to be refined. She had placed her free hand on the other blade but for now he would avoid that step. One must walk before they ran if they could. They had time and so he would do this right. He would teach her the blade and how to kill before Alwen could be killed with one blade before she learned of two.

Quietly he shift and placed her apparent primary hand on the hilt of her sword. Positioning it near the top of the hilt and then he would grab her off hand and place it on the scabbard. He would shift his feet and lightly kick at hers until her stance spread just enough with the foot opposing the side her katana were on forward and The other back. He would pull his sheathed Katana from his belt and use it to tap at the back of her knees until the bent just right so her weight was on her toes. After which he would tap on her shoulders somewhat harshly to lower her form. Or rather suggest all this through physical contact until she was in a drawing form. It was only then that he would stand behind her and speak. His dull tones carrying out across the hall. "We begin with drawing a single blade. Often your opponent will already be upon you before your weapon is drawn. In this position you create the most optimal draw. Step in with your opposing foot and as you lean forward release your sword with a rapid ripping motion while holding the sheath tight. Arc the blade in front of you in that instant and you might catch your opponent flat footed. Try it now. Get a feel for drawing it and feel the resistance the draw offers. Know what it takes to be faster and find how it feels when your shifting body makes your draw even faster."

2506

The Osada stepped forward, moving the kunoichi’s left hand to the hilt of the sword, and forcing it into what she imagined was meant as the correct way to hold. A sudden impact to her feet let her know her stance was wrong as well, not hard, but enough to shift her foot placement. It seemed her training had at least begun in the sense of posture, and the grim thoughts that she had were pushed aside by concentrating on staying where he shifted her, feet now at shoulder width if she had to guess without looking down. She glanced down to see him take the sheathed katana, before quickly feeling it against the back of her legs, further adjusting her posture and shifting her balance. Her shoulders dropped as indicated, and then, after having altered her posture so dramatically, the Manor owner spoke up to the dragon child.

His recommendation was to practise simply drawing the sword, which made sense to Alwen. Not wanting to seem a fool, she didn’t exactly follow his instructions instantly however. While he no doubt expected the girl to draw the weapon as she stepped, the girl knew she wasn’t ready quite yet. She had to get used to the adjustment of her posture, the shifting of her feet. So, that was all she did. Stepped forwards with the opposing foot, as instructed, running her lower body through the motions before returning to the posture she was put into. Her weight shifted, swaying from her backmost to foremost foot, and then stepping back once more. She sighed, nodding more to herself than anyone else, as she repeated this process ten times. Then, she tightened her grip on the hilt once more, almost forgetting the other katana on the other side as she repeated the motion, slowly sliding the weapon out of its sheath as she stepped forwards – allowing herself to get a feeling for the weapons weight as it was drawn. She stepped back before she fully allowed the weapon loose, now sheathing it, and returning to the posture she was in prior.

The girl continued to repeat this motion, allowing the blade further out from its sheath with each draw, finding a more natural way of holding the weapon as she went, and continuing to go back to the form instructed each time. Time and time again, the weapon inched closer to its metal licking at the air. Finally, she stepped forward once more, drawing the sword at its full length, allowing the weapon to reach free and rising it in an upwards cut. It wasn’t fast, yet it was steady, a swing that Alwen had readied herself for with each practise step. She held it there for a moment, allowing the minor victory to sink in to herself, sighing quietly beneath her breath. “I think I get it.” She stated simply, slowly getting the weapon back into its sheath and retaking up the position she was in before, looking to the Osada with a mixture of query and confidence, as if awaiting further instruction on if to continue, or attempt something else.

520 + 2032 = 2552

Sero would watch quietly and patiently and she shifted and practiced the actions over and over again. A part of him had been the same with each weapon he had mastered. Repetitive motions. Hundreds of times drawing, hundreds slashing and hundreds stabbing before he ever took a blade to a man. He knew each groove and nick in every weapon he had. The weight difference and how to shift when holding different types. It was tedious but he never wavered. It was beyond important to master the feel of each weapon. His grey eyes shifted along her fingers as he judged each movement before seeing her correct for a better feel. He could predict should she survive that she too would be an exceptional weapons master. It took a grand amount of dedication to master anything you picked up as a weapon as deadly as the last. It was imperative she reached such a height in order to work along side himself. Many would argue a rock was less suitable than a blade but Sero could kill a man with one just as fast. So would she given the time. His head shifted to look to the door she had entered as if viewing the world beyond it. Time was a luxury. One he doubted they had much of. He would need to remain near the manor until he was sure this one was prepared. Yasuo he could sense was capable enough without his teachings....This one he would look after as he did the village.

His gaze shifted back to the girl as his ears detected the sound of steel drawing. Instinctively his hand rested on his hilt in an instant. For that moment she would feel a surge of intent from him. Should his gaze had fallen on a blade pointed at him his own would of been drawn without hesitation. Instead she had begun to partially draw the blade. Feeling now for the resistance it offered. A blade was always heavier than one expected but the tightness of the sheath was something few predicted. He watched her draw partially more and more over again. Finally it burst forth at a slower speed than he had expected but with good form. He didn't smile but instead nodded. It was time to move on to the practice over theory. To actually put her in a situation where it was draw quickly or be harmed. His grey eyes looked into her own, no emotion or thoughts visible within those grey orbs...simply a void observing her. However he would step passed her and extend out his right hand to the air in front of her. His eyes would roll back a small amount as he focused chakra into the air. Orbs of grey liquid almost misty in texture would form in the air. Dozens of them collecting together from nothing and simply hovering there. His eyes returned to normal as he let his hand fall to his side. With a twitch of a finger one of the orbs shot to the side at ten meters per second and smashed into the pillar there. A small sizzle escaping as it burst and fell apart. Small balls of liquid acid that couldn't even accomplish first degree burns but they certainly would hurt.

"We will now begin moving up our practice time table lady Alwen. One at a time these orbs will fire at you. On contact with anything they will fall apart and burn what they touched. It will be in your best interest to predict the trajectory of each orb and quick draw your blade to slice it before it reaches you. There will be no breaks and the practice will not end until all thirty orbs have been used up. If you fall and refuse to continue, what remains will continue to come until they are gone. One must never surrender to exhaustion when threatened."

With that he turned and walked through the grouping of orbs as they shifted away from him so as not to touch him. Sero would move back to his seat and settle there with one ankle placed on his opposing knee and both arms on the arm rests. His grey eyes would watch her as he expected her to find her stance and prepare herself. This would be a painful lesson but it would speed her growth along if it didn't break her. The moment she gave any indication of being prepared a finger would shift and an orb would fire at a random part of her. A leg, an arm, a gut, the only thing he seemed to think taboo was the face. As promised he would continue to launch these at her until every last orb was gone. He was curious to see if she would last to the end or give into the burning.

3321

Sudden malice gathered in the air, causing the training to go a bit… Harder and last a bit longer, once she had gotten to the drawing phase of her practise. Was this what it meant to be battle hardened? To grow tense at a very sound, even if the source is non-hostile? Still, as the sword was drawn, it appeared Sero’s eyes grew further tense, staring at her once more. A motion of his hand was all that happened before, to her surprise, orbs formed within the air. A fair amount of them, just, grey blots in the atmosphere of the room. However, it was soon revealed what would occur, first hinted at by a slight motion from the Osada, before suddenly an orb went crashing into a pillar, sizzling against it. As he stated his intentions, the girl instinctively gulped in preparation, nodding slowly. It looked like now was the time to speed things up a bit, and start running when she’d started to walk.

Thirty grey orbs. One Alwen with a sword. She tightened her grip, allowing herself to prepare – she would not draw the sword until they began, deeming it the best way to begin. Giving a slight nod, the Osada then began, the first of the orbs launching towards the dragon child. As she had practised, the girl stepped forwards, drawing the blade, faster but with somewhat less form – while still showing signs of her practise, the girl moved the weapon faster than she had been practising so as to draw it in time. The blade rising from its sheath, the metal slid clean, rising into the air after cutting the first blob of acid down the middle. The sort of start that she needed to at the very least give her confidence for the next twenty nine attacks. However, before she could fully take in that she’d made it past the first one, the second attack had already begun, striking low. Blade still raised high, the girl couldn’t block in time, taking the attack to her left leg and wincing slightly as she adjusted the blade to a more neutral position. It hurt, but she had blocked one. There was nothing to say she couldn’t block more.

A third attack, aimed at the arm that held the weapon. While only just, the girl turned in time, taking what she understood with the technique of drawing the blade, and stepping with her arm movement to speed up her swing, blocking the attack with the side of the blade. The hiss of the acid against the metal was oddly reassuring, at least compared to the alternative of receiving such an attack to her body – as it was, she now had a rip on the legwear from the burn, as well as a painful reminder from the sting she still felt. The fourth attack was somewhat predictable, being like the other attacks had been and attacking where her guard was not. To this end, Alwen made sure to move the blade to once more meet the attack, stepping away from the direction it was coming so as to give her that precious extra second to do so. The next few attacks went as such, and the girl continued her little dance, grey orbs hissing violently against the metal of the weapon as she felt a line of sweat, both from the heat and the act, drip down the side of her face. At the eleventh strike she received a blow to her supporting arm, yelping at the sudden impact, having predicted a strike to the other side where instead the orbs double attacked. This pattern continued, Alwen successfully blocking most attacks, however still receiving blows that she hadn’t expected.

Then there were three orbs left.

Her breathing less regular than before, from the pain of being impacted by burns and moving to block the prior twenty seven attacks, Alwen stared at the grey threats, amber of her eyes seemingly faded with sheer determination to not get hit by the last few, embarrassed by the burns in her body and clothes from her failure thus far. Two of them went at once, and without thinking, Alwen changed her grip of the weapon. Twisting her arm inwards, she loosened the grip of the handle with her fingers, using her thumb to keep it balanced for long enough while the blade rotated, Alwen now holding the weapon upside down as she retightened her grasp. She adjusted her posture so that her feet were in the shape of an L, as she took the hilt of the weapon, holding it protectively in front of her to block one of the orbs, the blade blocking the other. Finally, the last orb shot out, hitting the girl on the hand that gripped the weapon. The dragon child gritted her teeth as she felt burns along her fingers, wincing as she tried desperately to not drop the weapon. She simply looked to her hand as it stung, aware that the orbs were gone, both blocked and not blocked. Taking a deep breath, she looked up to the lord of the manor, nodding slowly. “I… I hope that was not too disappointing.” She said slowly, trying to give a straight face as she stood up properly.

Ow, that hurt.

883 + 2552 = 3435

Sero would watch for a time. Some she blocked....others she could not and yet she remained standing. As the practice seemed to stretch on his head would tilt as all that could be heard was her breathing and the sound of metal shifting. Even the clock hung above the entrance seemed to tick the seconds away. It was a slow practice for him but one mustn't rush perfection with the blade if they can find time to master it. His grey eyes shifted to the clock. The practice itself wasn't more than a few minutes and yet with pain involved...with effort and stress a few minutes could seem like an eternity. If not for his chakra control simply controlling these orbs to hover and launch as directed would of been near impossible for this duration. However such was a common practice for him. As well as the blade control over his own chakra was immensely imperative to him. The girl would grow with the blade first but soon they would move on to her body. Learning how to move and bend as needed. Speed was important, that wasn't to be denied, yet flexibility was also on the top of that list. Bending in just the right way around an attack often left an opening for a counter.

Soon enough the last orb flew and smashed into her blade hand. He could hear the sizzle but took special note that she did not release her grip. She had instinctively became aware of the purpose of the practice. The blade was the only true barrier available to her from the harshness of the world. To lose her blade was to suffer a hundred times more. Regardless of the damage she had sustained. He would watch her panting there with burns and tears in her clothing. No blood had been spilled but she still appeared in need of some skin treatment. Not enough to leave a first degree burn...just a reddening of the skin. Her body likely needed to be placed somewhere restful to recuperate. He would listen as she spoke out to him from where she stood in his hall with honor. Even as she finished asking if he were unhappy with her performance she still stood a little straighter. Not many would of still been standing at the end of that practice. Most genin would have fallen to ruin halfway through. Sero would rise to his feet as a slow and steady pace brought him closer to her. Each step like a pulse on the ground. No matter how long she stood before him he didn't feel human. Sero simply put felt like a shinigami come for her. It wasn't really anything based on a mood or intention and yet his every breath held promise of brimstone. When he spoke his words were calm but cold. No hint of passion or pride. Simply a dull sound like an empty shell utilized by the beast within.

"Take pride young sword mistress. To pick up a blade is to pick up a code. Pain incarnated touched you and yet you did not release your grip. You pass this trial young one, may you consider this lesson long and hard before returning to me to learn more."

With the end of the sentence he was standing before her. The sway of his robes so hypnotizing they seemed to fade into the grey cement that created his hall. Swaying back and forth and distracting the eye until in a moment Sero was closer than he had been before. With that he would hold up one pale hand with a crimson colored fingernail like claw on each finger. "Rest now." Was his only command as a single feature reached out to touch her forehead should she allow him to. The moment his finger touched veins as dark as the night before dawn would spread across her forehead and her mind would be blanketed with darkness. Sero calmly would retrieve her blade from her hand and place it back in her sheath reverently before turning away. "Take her to the bathing room and leave her there to awaken." was a command seemingly spoken to an empty room. After a second though the ceiling shifted as hundreds of spiders of varied size webbed their way down around her. Shifting under her in mass and lowering her to her back before carting her away to the specified room. Once within they would set her back upright. Still stiff as when her mind went black and then the spiders would fade into the woodwork. Only then would her mind be released and for her it would be only a moment in time. One moment she was in the hall and the next alone in the bathing room. Sero no where to be found.

Exit thread
4132

1608 Ninjutsu to SS
2500/2500 Parasitic Acid Plague S rank trained

As Alwen stood there, panting and gathering her breath, she watched, almost absently, as the lord Osada approached slowly, and spoke, his voice a void of emotion, perhaps the name bloody mist incarnate. As he declared her as having passed his trial, the girl allowed a smile to spread across her lips, pleased that it meant she was done for now. Yet as he finished his sentence, he was now directly in front of her, somehow seeming a blur to her – it was hard for her to visualise him, despite him being in her face right now. He raised a hand, and she continued to watch, somewhat mesmerised, yet mostly tired from the energy she had just spent. Two words from the Osada, and then the crimson, almost bloody talon of a nail touched her.

The next thing she knew, the scenery had changed. The girl was now in a bathroom, and very confused – although it took a moment for her to realise the scene had changed in her state of fatigue. For some reason, her body felt… Uncomfortable, as if it had been touched, or influenced in a way without her knowing. Her skin felt like it was crawling and she shivered, before taking in the area around her, and the change in her form. The last she recalled, the weapon was in her hand, yet now, it was at her side, sheathed. How… Odd. But, she sighed. Now would be a time for relaxation after training well done. And with that… The girl rested.

After what was probably an overly long rest, the girl sighed, going on with the rest of her day by gathering the things she didn’t take with her, and heading to the door. She had a mission in a couple days, so, it would be her best interest to get prepared for it. And with that, and a flicker, the girl was gone.

319 + 3435 = 3754
[EXIT]

Training: