backscene: a missive for the missing Who: Ser Ordhan Wyland, Constans Ledaal. Where: Vigil's Keep training grounds. When: Early morning, 15 Molioris. Summary: Constans must ask a favor of Ser Ordhan, resulting in a perturbing revelation. Rating: G. They're both hopelessly polite, I doubt there'll even be cussing. :| Completed.
Constans arrived at the training grounds every morning, rain or shine, at the same time as that first day of good fortune when he had encountered Imenry and Ser Ordhan at spar. It was not that he expected his new companions to be present; although they had offered to help him train, no explicit promise had been made to meet at that time. Still, there did seem to be some kind of contract between them, no matter how informal. More often than not, his instructors indeed appeared. Over the past several days if one or both did not arrive immediately, or sent apologies for having other plans, he might find another partner or practice alone. As with all things, the Tranquil was quite simply content to do what best he could with the materials at hand.
The second morning, and every day since, Constans appeared wearing a shirt and trousers rather than robes. He also seemed to have procured a scabbard for his sword, the notched blade looking a little less haggard every time it was revealed.
Today he stepped outside to find Ser Ordhan already present on the grounds, although he did not trouble himself to think the other man had waited long. The knight greeted him politely, a courtesy which he always returned, but beyond this cursory conversation Constans knew little was necessary. Both men were quite comfortable with silence. They set themselves to sparring, the sound of metal ringing against metal filling the courtyard in bursts of a few minutes at a time, until invariably some error on Constans' part left him disarmed or defeated by the far more experienced warrior. He would listen and watch with honest interest each time the knight addressed the fault at hand (never unkindly, Constans decided, or with impatience. Ordhan was helping him learn more than one skill in these morning sessions.) Then they would begin again.
Once more Constans found himself outmaneuvered; he stumbled back from a blow, nearly fell, his sword biting the dust. He raised a hand to Ordhan to request a moment's rest, breathing deeply but evenly. Everything he did he seemed to do evenly.