Protocol - Part 1

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The first batch of training ended with the cry of the rooster, a sign for the next group to be ready without prompting. Oorja was responsible for the beginning, reaching the carefully cordoned training ground to greet the moon farewell as he recognised it as the crack of dawn. None of the younger ones ever came to his class, hoping against hope that the rooster would choke to death or maybe just fall asleep enough for them to complete their dreams. The only silver lining to their allotted set was that it was overseen by Minar, who wouldn't make them march into the woods if they missed a minute in punctuality.

The fact that she used more creative methods as consequences of tardiness was still a strong deterrent but subtle.

"Bend your waist not your back," Ezhil heard as he ran in, combing his fingers through his hair and cursing under his breath when he saw that the session had already begun. The regular exercises were being handled by Tejo, who was busy leading the group through the motions herself. It was supposed to be his turn to lead and this only meant that he was going to face extra trouble later. Maybe Tejo being his stand-in was the punishment in itself, he considered and schooled his face to neutral when the group turned for the snake curve.

"Are you going to keep wasting time or start?" Minar commented without turning back from where she was guiding Nami into the correct elephant posture. Imay was following her, copying the movements a bit better than Nami was, and his eyes didn't stray when their instructor spoke. Nami's almost did but she looked red in the face and determined to not fall behind. Ezhil bent down to the ground, touching it before touching his chest and entered the arena, moving around the usual class now finishing their preliminary stretches. He caught sight of Saakhi lounging on the veranda of the inner hall, chewing a stick idly as she waved at him. He nodded at her before joining Tejo, going about his routine salutations at the side.

Training was on varying scales for all the residents of Swatan, preliminarily for fitness though his mother said that it was another way of bringing people together. She took the first shift, perfectly fine with Oorja's drills before she would go with the others to collect the coconut palm leaves needed to weave. Ezhil trained to become a knight some day. Not one for any leader but a rogue, fighting for anyone who needed help. He'd make a name for himself that way.

"Ezhil and Tejo," Minar decided a while later, as the sun descended on them with a considerably gentle warmth. They were gathered in a circle, waiting on the pairing to spar. Toya, Minar's pet squirrel from hell, had found his way to her from wherever he spent his night and she ignored him cuddling against her arm as she sat on the upturned wooden tub near the veranda. Tejo took a deep breath before stepping forward and Ezhil mirrored her, both of them walking toward the centre of the ground before turning to Minar to offer their respect first. She reached down beside her feet and picked up two short poles, throwing at them as their weapons. They caught it in one hand and moved to face each other, both clad in their warrior-style dhotis and barefoot. Tejo's eyes were sharp but calm and Ezhil waited for the signal, his right palm gripping his pole lightly.

At Minar's crack with her own pole, they began, sticks coming up to hit in the air. They'd transition to swords and shields if they had time, or have those in the next session. Ezhil preferred his sword to the stick, liking the grip of the handle much better than the hard reed. His arms locked as he blocked a hit, bending backwards before pushing off and advancing. Tejo was quick, her feet faster than her arms and she used it to her benefit just enough to distract the opponent from catching on to her disadvantage. The mud pooled between his toes as he kicked off to use a leaping hit and Tejo moved with the projectile, turning his stick away from her head with her own counter. She'd tire him out before attacking from her side, he knew this. Her wrist was her weak spot even if her upper arm strength kept her from backing away against blows.

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