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And that go for anybody, you'll be thoroughly sorry
[ A tomb is a place where the dead rest in peace, not to be disturbed. And certainly that is what this tomb had been for quite some time, still and quite like the peaks to the north, the dust upon the marble stones like fresh powered snow. It had remained untouched like that too for even more time to follow, where in the darkness of the vaulted chamber night and day were as one, and not even the shadows of twilight could interrupt the sealed void that it was.
Then they started coming. First the raiders, who would pillage the tomb and its many caskets for the coin and rings of nobles and priestesses of yore. Then the adventurers and scholars, seeking scrolls and stone to study, bringing back a greater treasure than gold to the surface, that of legends and power. And then eventually the seekers, who came acting upon said legends and power, legends of power, of a sacred, ancient sword still said to be buried within the tomb for centuries.
And that sword? That sword was Jin, the paragon of Torna, a regalia of an ancient kingdom that sank with all of its culture, language, and history to the ages. All that remained was this tomb... and him.
He can't even remember the name of his previous master, for each time a handler of his kind dies, their memories are wiped clean. He assumes that his previous master had been the ruler of Torna, for otherwise his scabbard would not have the great nation's imperial sigil etched across it. He also assumes that they were quite well loved, to be buried with such a lavish structure that undoubtedly had been built to last many, many years.
How lucky for him, then, to be buried and kept within a tomb for years and years without end, guarding the tomb of someone he assumed to have known at one point but no longer does. Such is the life of his kind of spirit, to be re-awakened time and time again. It would have grown old, he thinks, to have had an existence like that. Perhaps that is what his master from before had thought as well, or perhaps that is what he had requested of them in the first place: so as to not repeat the cycle, to be finally buried and sealed away forever, never to be picked up again.
It's a real shame, then, that upon his previous master's death, his memories had been wiped clean of any such notions regardless.
Of course that doesn't mean he is about to head out of the tomb if just anyone picks his blade from the pedestal. After all these years alone and having the time to contemplate his existence, he's come to the troubling conclusion that his previous master had some sort of impact on him. "Troubling" because, well, he has no idea what that impact had been, and only retains eerie remnants of it. For why else would he feel this strange hollowness whenever he would walk too far away from the main burial chamber? Why else would he feel such frustration and regret when gazing upon the casket, its emblems and murals now too faded to read, to know their story? And out of all the adventurers, scholars, and helpless rouges who had tried to lay claim to his blade, there is a voice that snaps that they are not enough, that they can never compare, that they will never bring him the awe and joy he had once felt with--
He could be grieving, he realizes at one point.
Grieving over a person he no longer knows nor ought to care about. He could somehow have retained some feelings of his previous existence-- but that cannot be. Whoever they are-- were-- they are dead, and have been dead for quite some time. And just like them, he will have to remain here alone, with only the occasional hapless person wandering into the tomb hoping for glory by the power of a sword, a single sword that could raze entire armies in one swing.
Light pierces through the darkness as the lair's main doors open once more, sifting dust and dirt along with it. Shadows scatter in the brilliance of the light from above like wretched vermin, but here's nothing in the tomb of worth that refracts that light; the grave robbers have made sure to that ages ago. The only thing of value that remains is the sword that still stands sheathed within a stone pedestal, its blade untouched by the years. Jin, in his spirit form, remains dormant within the blade for now. But he is looking.
Just who has disturbed his tomb now? ]
Then they started coming. First the raiders, who would pillage the tomb and its many caskets for the coin and rings of nobles and priestesses of yore. Then the adventurers and scholars, seeking scrolls and stone to study, bringing back a greater treasure than gold to the surface, that of legends and power. And then eventually the seekers, who came acting upon said legends and power, legends of power, of a sacred, ancient sword still said to be buried within the tomb for centuries.
And that sword? That sword was Jin, the paragon of Torna, a regalia of an ancient kingdom that sank with all of its culture, language, and history to the ages. All that remained was this tomb... and him.
He can't even remember the name of his previous master, for each time a handler of his kind dies, their memories are wiped clean. He assumes that his previous master had been the ruler of Torna, for otherwise his scabbard would not have the great nation's imperial sigil etched across it. He also assumes that they were quite well loved, to be buried with such a lavish structure that undoubtedly had been built to last many, many years.
How lucky for him, then, to be buried and kept within a tomb for years and years without end, guarding the tomb of someone he assumed to have known at one point but no longer does. Such is the life of his kind of spirit, to be re-awakened time and time again. It would have grown old, he thinks, to have had an existence like that. Perhaps that is what his master from before had thought as well, or perhaps that is what he had requested of them in the first place: so as to not repeat the cycle, to be finally buried and sealed away forever, never to be picked up again.
It's a real shame, then, that upon his previous master's death, his memories had been wiped clean of any such notions regardless.
Of course that doesn't mean he is about to head out of the tomb if just anyone picks his blade from the pedestal. After all these years alone and having the time to contemplate his existence, he's come to the troubling conclusion that his previous master had some sort of impact on him. "Troubling" because, well, he has no idea what that impact had been, and only retains eerie remnants of it. For why else would he feel this strange hollowness whenever he would walk too far away from the main burial chamber? Why else would he feel such frustration and regret when gazing upon the casket, its emblems and murals now too faded to read, to know their story? And out of all the adventurers, scholars, and helpless rouges who had tried to lay claim to his blade, there is a voice that snaps that they are not enough, that they can never compare, that they will never bring him the awe and joy he had once felt with--
He could be grieving, he realizes at one point.
Grieving over a person he no longer knows nor ought to care about. He could somehow have retained some feelings of his previous existence-- but that cannot be. Whoever they are-- were-- they are dead, and have been dead for quite some time. And just like them, he will have to remain here alone, with only the occasional hapless person wandering into the tomb hoping for glory by the power of a sword, a single sword that could raze entire armies in one swing.
Light pierces through the darkness as the lair's main doors open once more, sifting dust and dirt along with it. Shadows scatter in the brilliance of the light from above like wretched vermin, but here's nothing in the tomb of worth that refracts that light; the grave robbers have made sure to that ages ago. The only thing of value that remains is the sword that still stands sheathed within a stone pedestal, its blade untouched by the years. Jin, in his spirit form, remains dormant within the blade for now. But he is looking.
Just who has disturbed his tomb now? ]
no subject
[ The cogs in her head are turning now; mostly how to properly protect Jin from the threat of shattering. The false crossguard was a good first step, if entirely accidental, in that reinforcing the gem in the sword itself is a wise choice.
And if he ever regains his human form... perhaps a helm of some sort?
Time will tell, she supposes. No point worrying about something that hasn't yet come to pass. ]
I will do my best to prevent that from happening. So far, we've only had attempted theft to deal with.
1/2
Attempted murder. [ Jin corrects. It's the only two words he's spoken in a while during their conversation, and his tone is nothing less than clipped. Saber can be assured that he's listening to every single word this stranger speaks.
It's not as if this man is bringing new news to him. It's as if he's making Jin recall what was once forgotten. ]
no subject
[ What the purpose of his own journey is, he doesn't elaborate. Instead, his gaze moves from her to the sword itself for one moment before looking back to her. ]
I must ask, what are your intentions with your Blade? For what purpose do you wield them?
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Yes, yes, that too.
[ Jin's protective streak is both amusing and admittedly a little flattering, even though that's part and parcel of the agreement they'd made at the tomb.
Calm down, ya rowdy sword boye.
Getting called a thief WOW DOES THAT SOUND FAMILIAR, JIN? ]
My purpose?
[ Goodness, isn't that forward of him. She eyes Addam curiously, but answers without guile. ]
Nothing less than the protection of those that need it the most. Raiding bands from the mainland have become more and more common, and not all lords defend their vassals as they should.
[ For the time being, at any rate. Saber is beginning to think with enough practice and further bonding efforts, they may be able to turn aside further attacks all on their own, regardless of the numbers sent to raid. The Saxons are a tenacious people and rarely respect anyone or anything weaker than themselves. ]
And you? What cause drives your sword arm?
1/2
Discovery. [ He answers simply, waving with his hand as if he could gesture to the entire world. ] As for what to discover-- anything. Everything. [ He elaborates cheerily, not at all afraid to share his chase for adventure. ] I would not ignore those in need along the way, however.
Currently Brighid and I are following legend about a hidden, moving island, and we are planning to head south to commission a crew for ourselves. [ Read: he has money.
AND THEN IT HAPPENS. He looks at her with a new, keen sort of interest as if he's suddenly gotten a brilliant idea. ] Will you and your Blade not join us, Saber?
[ There's probably a lot of pirates and shit she could protect people from in the meantime!! ]
no subject
Fuck off, other white-haired boy. There can only be one. ]
no subject
He's right though - they already have a purpose to fulfill. ]
I'm afraid not. Jin and I... we're needed here.
[ Saber shakes her head, relocating Jin's sword across her lap as if by physically placing her hands on him will calm him down. She sympathizes. Hearing so much about your origins when your remember little to nothing about the subject has to be extremely unpleasant at best.
Fortunately, she's bolstered with quiet resolve to make absolutely certain he retains his free will.
Partner. Not slave or servant. Never.
While she runs her fingers along the fuller of the blade, she glances up at the swords Addam wields. ]
However. I have one favour to ask.
[ OH BOY HERE WE GO ]
You would do me great honour if you accepted an invitation to spar. We are... unpractised, still, and it would be foolish of me not to look for advice.
[ She will not be unworthy of him. It would do neither of them any good if she wasn't tapping into his fullest capabilities when needed. ]
no subject
[ Addam appears to consider her offer for all of two seconds,and then he laughs. ] Why, yes, of course! It'd be my pleasure.
[ He seems nothing if not enthusiastic at the prospect of a spar. ] --Oh, but. Not anywhere near here, you understand. [ Since they can cause a good amount of damage! ]
Just name the time and place, and I shall be there.
no subject
Saber's quite confident in that it's been many years since she's had training quite as thorough or utterly mind-boggling as the afternoon sparring with Addam. All this bonding-with-your-Blade talk, discussions about focus and energy, the push and pull nature of moulding Jin's magic with her willpower... it feels like learning a new language. Nothing makes sense at first.
Still, she doesn't regret it. Even with the bone-deep ache of hard training, Saber is satisfied with their progress, only letting the set of her shoulders droop a little after trudging back to their inn room (much, MUCH later), placing Jin's blade at the headboard as she always does, and settling on the bedside herself with a sigh.
The only downside to being heavily armoured is having to strip it all off before bed. Oh well. ]
Quite the day we've had. [ She murmurs, removing first one gauntlet, then the other with only minimal tugging on the complex lacing at her wrists. ]
He was informative, wasn't he?
no subject
But how? Trusting each other more? Saber sharing more of her past, her secrets, and her feelings, and then Jin doing the same?
And then there’s the troubling thought that with the way his kind are, he may truly never have his own freedom. Well, not unless he... ]
We need to become stronger.
Stronger than them.
[ Yep, he’s impatient. ]
no subject
[ Patience, Jin. Rome was not built in one day, after all.
Seeing how Addam and Brighid fought together... yes, she understands why the bond is so crucial for a fighting pair to come into their own. As a single fighter, Addam's form and strength is nothing special, but augmented by a Blade that compliments him and covers his weaknesses?
Magnificent.
Saber may, in fact, be admiring Addam and Brighid in hindsight. It's a shame they had to go their separate ways with so much left to learn. ]
Their strength is greater than ours simply by virtue of perfect synchronicity. It's difficult to exploit openings that don't exist.
[ She shakes her head while releasing the last buckle holding her breastplate in place, dropping it beside the foot of the bed with the rest of her neatly organized gear.
No, Saber knows for a fact if she and Jin ever reaches the level of teamwork that Addam and Brighid are currently at, Jin's power and Saber's discipline could overpower them. It's just a matter of getting to that point. ]
You saw it, didn't you? How they moved as one?
[ Don't be jealous, Jin. Learn from it! ]
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As we are now, I can only do my best to immediately adapt after how you choose to attack. [ They're not at that level, not yet. And to get to that degree of partnership... he needs to know more about her. No-- not about her. He needs to know her. It's too bad that he hasn't quite figured her out completely. As it is, he's only got as far as believing that she is young woman who wishes to see the world change, and if she cannot change it herself, then she will do what she can to protect those around her. ]
That is a... failure on my part. For not anticipating how you battle. [ That, and their fighting styles are vastly different, if she recalls their little duel in his soul-scape.
Does her routine of preparing for sleep and taking off her armor technically count as stripping in front of him...... ]
no subject
[ With all the armour removed and her hair released from its high braid, she changes into one of the thin shifts hung in the wardrobe, briskly washes her face with the water ewer and basin, and flops in bed with a sigh.
She's sore all over. Addam and Brighid hadn't been pulling their punches, for all the fact they hadn't been using their full strength. ]
I wonder...
[ Saber lapses into a brief, thoughtful silence while studying the wooden beams overhead. ]
Before, when he spoke about Blades having physical bodies. I think if we reach that point, sparring in person will have us improve even faster. [ Her head rolls to one side to turn her full gaze to the gem in Jin's blade. ] I am still adjusting to using a sword with greater length than what I'm used to. Perhaps watching you in action will teach me something.
[ It's better to have a tangible experience to tie to a lesson. Kinaesthetic learning! ]
no subject
Always either learning or practicing or training or sparring with this one. Then again, he is the same way. ] You're getting a little ahead of yourself, Saber. I haven't been able to manifest a physical form since weeks ago, and that wasn't by intention so much as an instinct to survive. [ And he's not about to suggest that she go get herself nearly killed so that it can happen again.
No, they just have to work on their ~bond~, whatever the intangible hell that means. ] For that, we have to... [ Gah, and it pains him to say this since he's not really a feelings sort of man. But he wants to become stronger, and so does she. This is what they have to do. ] learn how to trust each other better.
no subject
[ She just gets excited about TRAINING and IMPROVING ONESELF okay shhh
Trust, however...
Well, she does trust him. Insofar as they've never harmed each other (although his sense of justice needed some gentle redirection from time to time) and Jin, while stubbornly proud, has proven himself to be wise counsel where her own knowledge was lacking.
So it may be that... she is the one falling short of gaining his trust. ]
I trust you. [ Blunt as ever. Saber's expression is deadly serious, and strangely contrite. ] And... I will endeavour to earn yours.
[ But that's a task for tomorrow. First order of business is getting some sleep. ]
no subject
But does he trust her?
He does, in a sense.To the same extent that she might trust him, as two who are working together, who are allied to each other and respectful of each other’s strengths and talents. And if he truly were to think more about it, he does feel more at ease when he’s held within her grasp... ]
You won’t have to worry about that... [ He tells her, quietly. ]
no subject
Keeping him safe. ]
Goodnight, Jin.
[ It's not much longer until she's out like a light. ]