He swung the staff in a wide arc as he moved away from the closet, feeling the cool wood against his arm. It was an extension of him, as much of him as his arms and legs. In the brisk air of the dim morning he swung it in a crisp downward slash, stopping it just before it hit the ground with a sharp hiss as he exhaled. He had stretched before he came, and Lucas had been happy just to watch. The dog was sitting obediently beside a bench as Alaric warmed up, looking around and sniffing the air as he waited.
Alaric kept at it for a few more minutes, starting to doubt that his old friend would join him. He slashed and cut into the air, defeating hordes of invisible enemies with sharp grace. He paused to listen to the sounds of the morning as the sun peeked over the hills. He couldn't see it from here, the surrounding buildings blocked his view, but he could see lazy rays creeping over the tops of them as he stood, his chest heaving in a steady pace. He concentrated on breathing, slowing his lungs and letting his shoulders fall back into a more relaxed pose. He snapped his head around when he heard Lucas barking and grinned, propping his free hand on his hip.
"About time you showed up."
Tobias was dressed similarly to his General, he was no stranger to the practice pavillion or the neighboring firing range, Alaric knew. He had done his research on his old friend since returning. In recent months Tobias had scarcely been seen at the pavillion except a few times late at night when he apparently thought no one was around. There was always someone who knew. Watchful eyes were probably viewing them right now, but Alaric cared little. It was not a secret.
Without another word Tobias crossed the distance to the pavillion, careful to avoid Lucas. The hound kept barking at him until Alaric called him off. "At ease, Lucas." He said, watching as his companion relaxed, laying down obediently with his head on his paws. Tobias gave the dog a disdainful look as he passed him, keeping a decent distance between himself and the beast. He selected a staff of charwood as well, making his way to the spot opposite of Alaric. Without a word, he charged and swung his staff at the General. Alaric dodged easily and grinned, jabbing his own weapon at Tobias' core only to watch him twist out of reach. Clearly he wasn't as rusty as Alaric assumed. Good.
They continued for a while like that, each managing to get the upper hand only briefly before one would tap a vital hit and claim his win. Alaric won more often than not, as was to be expected, but he was pleasantly surprised by the challenge Tobias provided. The young falcon's movements were controlled and crisp, entirely deliberate. After a few rounds, Alaric began to notice patterns and defeat came a bit more easily. Just as soon as he thought he had his friend figured out, Tobias would change his patterns entirely and the dance would start anew.
Before long the sun was rising above the buildings, filling the pavillion with light. A short glance into the benches told Alaric they had spectators, and more than he might have guessed at this hour. Tobias never took his eyes off of Alaric. Blow followed blow and the charwood staff met its mark in Alaric's face. A red welt formed, but no apology was offered or expected. Alaric charged and the pain was forgotten. Alaric could have sworn he saw Tobias smile at the mark he'd made. He feigned right and dashed left and Alaric spun on the balls of his feet to counter his oncoming blow. Wood crashed against wood and the sharp snaps echoed across the pavillion one after another.
Strike after strike they continued until the sun was shining brightly. As Alaric turned the rays met his eyes and he winced, blinded. He felt Tobias' foot sweep under his legs and in moments he was on his back with charwood pointed at his throat. Tobias looked down at him and as Alaric's vision cleared he saw a smile at his lips. A grin formed on his own and Alaric laughed, "Well met." The young Arathald offered his hand and Alaric took it gladly, allowing the other to pull him to his feet. With a single look both men agreed silently that the match was over. A sheen of sweat covered their faces from the exertion and both of their chests were heaving with effort. Their smiles grew and as the sun burned their necks, they began to laugh.
The old friends made their way to the benches in front of the weapons closet, sitting and setting their staffs aside. Alaric put a firm arm around Tobias' shoulders and shook his head, "It's taken you three weeks to smile, and a bloody month to laugh... but Erol's damn was it worth the wait. We shall have to make a habit of this, old friend." Tobias shoved his arm away but still chuckled, "If I have the time, then yes, my mornings are yours." For the first time since his return, they seemed to be picking up where they had left off so many years ago.
After a moment's rest to catch their breath, the two put away their weapons of choice and departed. Lucas tagged at Alaric's heels once he signaled for it and for once, Tobias didn't seem to mind the animal. Together they walked back to the main building, talking as if they'd reunited for the first time.
"If I knew that all it took to get you to loosen up was giving me a black eye, I would have let you hit me long before now. I'm sure you've been very stressed lately, but we're friends. No amount of time will change that."
Tobias shook his head, "Time changes everything, actually. I grasp your meaning though, Alaric. Don't give me that look." Alaric sighed, the dour attitude was returning too quickly for his liking. Still, he was glad to have broken through the facade if at least for a few minutes. It had been fully worth the welt.
