We were training very intensely for the last two weeks. I had learned the maneuver talent quite quickly. It was something I had been trying to teach myself for the last year. I just needed Partakkis to teach me how to polish my foot work. I was inspired at the beginning of the training to learn quickly as I was quickly tired of her hitting me in the back of the head. After two weeks and hours of training I told her that I thought I was ready for second circle test.
The next after noon I showed up at the island and found that she was there with a troll. He was carrying a large hand drum. She through me a club and told me to get ready. The troll sat on log and placed the drum between his feet. He started a beating out a slow simple rhythm. I took a defensive stance ready to fight. Partakkis stood there and I could see her start to sway to the rhythm. I tried to do the same. I listen to the beet I could see moves develop in my mind that matched that tempo. I opened my eyes and Partakkis was ready and looking at me.
She attacked her moves were at the pace set by the rhythm, so at this point they were at half speed. I blocked and maneuvered in to a better position. I attacked with the advantage. She blocked my attack and moved to the advantage and attacked me. The dance at this pace was obvious but not as planned at the last test. After a few minutes she stopped and the drum stopped. She looked at me and said now that you know what we are doing we will be going at full speed. Try to find the rhythm in the battle.
The troll started beating the drum wild and fast. His arms were a blur. The rhythm was not there, it was unpredictable and wild, notes that were load, quiet, soft, and hard. I had to shut out the rest of the world to try and hear it. I still could not hear it when Partakkis attacked. I scrambled out of the way trying to feel the rhythm. I was dodging and moving still listening to the beet. Then I heard it. It was the quiet notes that she was moving with. I found the pace and the dace was on. Block, move and attack were the dance moves. It was a waltz of violence. We moved all over the island. We moved out of the trees on to the beach, around the beach to the other side of the island, off the beach on to the high rock center of the island. We exchanged the lead of the dance back and forth. We ended up on the top of the island about 40 feet above the beach.
She must have planned to end up here. The drummer changed the beat of the drum. It took me a couple of seconds to find the new rhythm. This time it was even faster. We were on the top of a large bolder blocking, dodging, jumping, spinning, and attacking. We were both covered in sweat and breathing hard. Finally she through her club to the ground showed her hands.
“WOOOOOOOOOO!” was the yell bellowed from my chest. It echoed off the canyon walls. Partakkis was smiling and still breathing heavy. “You have learned all I can teach you,” she said, and then she added “about fighting.” When we got back to the camp, the troll had gone. We spent another night on the island in celebration.
Ardor Zomay Skram
3rd Circle Tail Dancer