synflux | SEMI-OPEN / WITH BLOODSHED AND BARE HANDS

Get better jokes and maybe I'll laugh. ( challenging them both despite syl being silent even in her spear state.

his smile only holds until noctis produces his weapon—not from mist but from crystals. they splinter out from a central point, refracting light and casting small spots of colour all around. once they remain suspended for a short time, they disappear as kaladin's mist had.

noctis doesn't have a nahel bond. he would've told him if he had a spren, too. their manifestations, however, are similar despite this. perhaps their worlds are closer than he originally thought. )

She can't feel it, Noctis. She can sense our actions, even watch and warn me of incoming attacks, but nothing you do will hurt her. ( and he'll remember noctis asked.

to start them off, kaladin slides into a ready stance, spear held defensively in a sure grip. )

I'm interested in your weapon. And your ability to summon it. Where does that come from? Is it energy?

[ The sword feels heavy in his hand as he rolls his wrist and tests how it feels cutting through the air. Not an unused weapon but an untested one, denser than the engine blade he's far more accustomed to. Using one of his new Royal Arms – and for a sparring match, no less – would normally be last on his list, but this place hasn't provided many other options. ]

Good. 'Cause I don't want something like that holding me back.

[ He adopts no such similar stance, blade instead flipped from a forward grip to a backhanded grip as he steps forward to slowly circle him, eyes focused but body flexible. ]

You wanna' talk, or fight? 'Cause we can earn more answers from each other.

Only thing I wanna' know now is if you're ready.

( rooted to the spot, he watches noctis revolve around him. he's limbered up since kaladin found him sleeping not half an hour ago, and his language has changed just as surely as his posture. )

You're confident, ( he observes, using words noctis has undoubtedly heard before.

unlike gladiolus amicitia, however, kaladin doesn't follow it up with an accusation that that same confidence will get noctis into trouble. or that he hasn't earned the right to challenge him so flippantly, but that it's still preferable to his earlier "whining." that it's more befitting for a king to act boldly and decisively if there's talent to back it up. empty goading to provoke a reaction. )

Good. Show me the best you've got, Noctis, and I'll shut up for as long as you want.

( no, kaladin smiles, then gets serious.

widening his stance cuts him down by a few inches, the bend in his knees preparatory, and there's a shift he performs with the sylspear: she's spun, her shaft's end coming up to rest in the pit of his arm while her middle lays along his forearm and wrist. a loose hold, but one with trained intent. )

Come.

Is that a promise?

[ Noctis has had less training with spears but it'd be a mistake to assume he's had none. Kaladin adopts a position he's seen his wiser and more cautious teachers use, one a tiny child often needed to rely on just to keep from becoming immediately disarmed but that a more reckless and far stronger youth rarely took advantage of. Kaladin knows what he's doing.

Was there ever any doubt?

It's hardly the same young man as the one languishing in bed before that now observes Kaladin, lips twisting into an upward curve that betrays his excitement before he suddenly lunges forward, sword drawn up in an underhanded sweep towards Kaladin's midsection on his unguarded side. ]

( noctis strikes with furious intent, but kaladin can't see the advancement as anything more than playful. they aren't here to hurt each other; would passersby believe that when they're using real weapons?

he's been blocked from side-stepping this one, because if he did, the sword would follow. he's being guided into a test of strength, which kaladin meets by lifting the spear tip into an upward arc with his palm. with his opposite hand, briefly exposing more of his midsection, he catches his spear shaft and comes down hard from overhead to shove the sword down and backward.

their clash doesn't produce sparks, for syl isn't made of the right stuff to produce any; however, the remaining motes of crystal and mist from their summonings are a satisfying stand-in. )

Don't you dare have fun, ( kaladin grins, shoving the back of the shaft forward in a defensive blow intended to knock noctis back into spearhead range. )

Edited 2025-03-02 13:42 (UTC)

[ Kaladin's strong, but that's no surprise. What is more surprising is his speed and reaction time, even now when they're both playing and testing the waters with one another. It gives him confidence and hope that he won't be spending the majority of this spar holding back in a clash of weapons against someone far less talented, an uncharitable thought he keeps to himself. He might be shy and full of self-doubt, but ego's always been accessible where his special interests are concerned... and fighting is certainly that. ]

Who the hell is having fun? You better wipe that grin off your face before I do it for you– [ Never mind that he's wearing a matching expression, one which refuses to be worn down as they trade blow for blow. Even tasting the butt of that spear in a jab at his side or being forced into aerial flips which strain a smaller body not just to dodge but even to strike at a much larger opponent doesn't change that.

Within minutes that grin has shifted but only into something more open, lips parted for hard breaths and forehead glistening with sweat as they break to again circle one another. ]

You know... you're not actually that bad after all...

( Agility was expected, and Noctis doesn't disappoint. With a lithe, compact form, his domain is undoubtedly speed and general ease of movement. If Kaladin were an amateur, he'd chalk the extreme acrobatics up to unnecessary showmanship; fancy moves don't typically beget clean hits.

But Noctis' total control was obvious from the outset. )

"Not actually that bad," huh? Well... I'll take it. You're not the easiest man to get a compliment from!

( Kaladin switches tactics mid-swing. His comrade's energetic assault is met and matched with its opposite: A calm defence. The careful conservation of energy by planting his feet, connecting with the ground, and swinging his spear in any direction it needs to go to clash with Noctis' sword.

He must also remove his opponent's chances to pause and regenerate stamina. Taking a strike intentionally to draw Noctis in, Kaladin feels the blade bite into his flesh, and heals instantly. He signals with a look of satisfaction that any wounds he accumulates don't hurt him when he's holding Stormlight. He takes only shallow sips from his spheres, refusing to let excess Light enhance his skills. This continues through their advancements on each other, Noctis' a flurry of blows from all sides and Kaladin's a series of opportunistic thrusts.

They keep each other on their toes until Kaladin tires of defence and becomes envious of Noctis' aggressive flow from one swing to the next. Beautiful combat. Beautiful execution.

So, when he decides to break away a second time to pace, the Sylspear grows. A foot and a half, maybe two, from the length of a thrusting spear. His face wears a mist of sweat and a slant of a smile below a focused stare. )

You're not so bad yourself!

( His spear is twirled in his hands, around his back to his front again, in another kata, and his foot slides in an arc on the floor. Then he's gone, leaning into a sudden pursuit of Noctis, leaping high into his next stab down. )

Edited 2025-03-16 20:25 (UTC)

If I were it wouldn't mean as much–!

[ Words are squeezed out from behind grit teeth as his body exerts itself with each new strike, his offense challenged by Kaladin's stalwart defense as his blade slides against a well-wielded spear. If it were a true fight, he'd recognize that his own approach is insufficient. He'd change, grow more aggressive and rely much more heavily on his elemental magic to break through a perfectly controlled defense that burdens Kaladin with no needless movements. It's so damn clean.

And that's why he continues the barrage of blows, some sweeping low, some lunged at his middle, and others arcing high – because this is a test for both of them. He wants to see how he fights and how long he can keep up with this pace that sends a line of sweat down his back and a flush into his face. He wants to learn from what a true spear-master can do. ]

O–oi! You said no magic... what the hell do you call that, huh? [ The Sylspear shifts not to give Kaladin any unfair advantage but to increase the challenge for both of them, and now it's Noctis that's suddenly forced into a reactive position. He's on the back foot, and with a dip in stamina thanks to his last assault and Kaladin's sudden switch-up he has to take his own measures.

That strike hits air tinged with blue crystal as he uses a pinch of his own magic to side-step at the last second, sword raised defensively where he materializes. ]

Hold! Hey, hold for a second...

Syl changes with my intentions. It's not cheating. Technically, ( Kaladin adds with a shrug. Arms lift with the lazy action, bringing his spear up vertically to spin it off his wrists. ) I haven't used my Lashings against you. Don't complain!

( It feels good to cut loose. Panic doesn't set in when he wields his spear against Noctis, because it's been blunted. Because it's in his control. Because he knows that, at Noctis' level, neither will matter. He's so adept at what he does that Kaladin trusts him to deflect each blow, even when he's putting his heart and soul into each one.

Step, jab, backstep, parry. He advances on Noctis swiftly.

Leap, jab, backflip, block. Noctis unerringly counters him.

Kaladin doesn't realize he's grinning again. It persists as one of his most ambitious thrusts misses. Expected—but not the way it goes down. Noctis moves so quickly that he leaves an afterimage of refracting glass. It's completely see-through, overlapping its real body until Noctis steps out of it and Kaladin's spear head punctures the air.

A call to hold is obeyed immediately, and storms, he finds he needs time, too. Adrenaline does a good job of masking his exhaustion until he slows up, but in the wake of it, as the joy of dancing with Noctis ebbs, Kaladin realizes how hard he's breathing. His spear is held at rest against his forearm as he falls back into his initial stance. Sweat beads off his chin, so he wipes it and his mouth with the shoulder of his t-shirt. )

What is it? You alright?

Hah?

[ The single syllable is ragged with effort as that guard lowers, sword vanishing altogether when his hands drop to his knees for a braced hunch. Hah. His own full-body tiredness is quick to catch up with him even if toned muscle won't tear quite so easily, reluctantly acknowledging the cause as he catches his breath. ]

Yeah, I'm good... I just haven't used that sword that long before. Takes it out of me... [ His head raises just in time to catch a glimpse of tanned skin that peeks out above the hem of his pants when Kaladin lifts his shoulder, telling himself the shine of sweat that hints he's as tired as Noctis is is why his stare lingers. Blue eyes peer out behind damp, shaggy hair as he stares up at him, mouth suddenly twisting back into that breathless grin. ]

... so your intention is to cheat, huh?

( The room fills with noisy breaths. While Noctis cycles through his bent, holding his knees, Kaladin does so while falling out of his stance, chin raised. The Sylspear is dismissed in a misty glow that dissipates quickly. )

You're never going to let me live this down. You survived it, didn't you? More than that... you excelled.

And we both got more practice, ( he adds stubbornly. After a moment, he's smiling again too. ) It's not every day I get to really go all-out. Without "magic," I mean. I got excited; cut me some slack.

[ He can feel his stamina returning now that he's had an opportunity to still, magic healing his body's hurts inflicted by the Royal Arm's heavy price. All that remains then are pleasant aches, the kind Kaladin himself seems to be thoroughly enjoying. ]

No way, not in a million years am I cutting you slack...

Anyway, I thought you'd be good. I didn't think you'd be that good, though... half the moves you pulled out with a spear I've never seen. When you were keeping defensive formation?

Then again, maybe it's easier at your size.

Greaaat, ( Kaladin complains, shoulders rounding into a sag forward. He'll never live the cheating down. Technically, it was Syl's fault... but if he said that aloud, she'd never let him live it down either.

Storms, he misses her. )

Thanks, though. I underestimated you, too. ( He expected adequate, even excellent—not extraordinary. ) Understandable... We're from different worlds. I didn't know what to think, or how Lucian swordsmanship might look. I'm impressed, Noctis. Very.

... You don't actually believe size matters, do you? You're tiny, so you have a poorer defence? Sounds ridiculous.

SEMI-OPEN / WITH BLOODSHED AND BARE HANDS

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