.:One.x.One:. ~*Gene and Jade Mystic*~

[Jade Mystic]

(** Lalalaladiladilalala. Lookit it's a shiny new thread <3 ... I don't think we ever decided on the 'fantasy' part of this >> Oooops. **)

You'll never amount to anything.

Typical Meissa. What nice parting words to say to your own mother, hm? Oh well. Not like she ever cared about her in the first place. No, she was far aware that Kerra only cared about her boy toy and her children that actually mattered.

And of course Mei wasn't included in that category. She was just a cast-off. A mistake. The girl let out a soft snort, brown eyes focused on the knife before her. The shriek of sharpened metal ran through the air and bit at her sensitive ears, but she didn't mind; at least the pain distracted her from her thoughts. Honestly, she didn't know why she even talked to that wh*re in the first place. How many kids did Kerra have already? Eight? Nine? Ten? No wonder she couldn't keep track of them all. Then again, did she ever try?

Meissa tried to impress her. Tried to have her notice her. We all saw how well that worked, the girl thought with no small amount of bitterness. Stupid boys. She never should've trusted him. Of course he'd betray her, of course he'd reveal her to the world, of course she'd be shunned. Honestly, how could she be so stupid?

Mosquitoes swarmed around her exposed arms and she irritably waved them away with her knife. Honestly, she probably shouldn't be sharpening it in the woods right now. But she couldn't sharpen it in the village now, could she? No, because girls weren't allowed to fight or possess any weapons. Which was stupid, in her opinion; what if a girl got attacked while alone, without a man to protect her? What then, hm? Her sister was killed in that fashion; Meissa wasn't about to let the same fate befall her.

The girl paused and shook her voluminous wavy brown hair, currently tied in three ponytails to keep it out of her way. A leaf had fallen on her head. "damn trees," the girl grumbled to herself.

[Gene]

Darren stared miserably through the trees. He sat on a mossy stump, comfortable in the familiar environment. He'd spent a very long time in this very forest, training his apprentice. It was unnatural to him, to have an apprentice when he was so young. Because of that, he generally treated her as his equal. They were, after all fairly equal in age. It just happened to be that Darren's own teacher was the master of hand-to-hand combat and he was a bit of a natural.

Currently, Darren was watching his apprentice. He was quite a ways away and he only caught a glimpse of her long hair between the many trees. He was wearing his dark clothing that helped camouflage him in those surroundings, but he'd trained her well and he was careful to make sure she didn't see him. He remained perfectly still, as he had a very long-lasting patience. He made no sounds save for the breathing that he tried to keep as noiseless as possible.

Darren took every precaution to keep her from noticing him. Because there was no doubt in his mind that she would kill him should she see him, or at least threaten to. People knew her secret now, and she blamed it on him, for he was the only one that knew. He was the only one that could have told someone. Therefore, he was held accountable. He was ashamed that someone must have sneaked under his radar and discovered what she'd tried to keep quiet for so long.

He wished she would have believed him when he told her that he never would have told a soul. He never would have betrayed her like that. In the many months that they'd practiced, he'd grown to genuinely care for her. He wouldn't have shared that information if his life depended on it, as was his nature. He was a loyal young man, unlike others his age that had a tendency to spend hours at pubs.

Darren stared at the brown hair he knew to be hers as she shook it out, the sun catching it and making it shine. Oh, how he wished to convince her that he wasn't lying, to hug her and get over their problems. He bent his head down to rest his forehead on his hands that were clenched together, hanging in midair between his legs with his elbows propped on his knees. Darren cursed himself mentally, longing for a chance to defend himself. But how would he ever do that? There was no reason for her to believe him, no way to prove that he was not a liar.

[Jade Mystic]

The cry of sharpening iron eventually stopped, and Meissa just stared at the knife in her hand. Him. Him him himhimhimhimhim. Why? Why was he constantly on her mind?

She frowned. And a moment later, the girl turned and drove the metal blade into the trunk of a nearby tree, slow, heavy breaths heaving out of her chest. Usually, Mei had no shortage of patience, but that was only because she had a place to vent. Before, it'd been her daily training sessions with Darren. Now...

Now nothing. She remembered the berating she'd gotten from the female village elders when they'd found out. "Women are not to engage in violence," they'd said firmly. "To wield weapons is to give up your privilege as a woman. Remember, women are the rain. Men are the thunder. We nurture, they protect. Do not make that mistake again."

But couldn't a woman protect as well? A tigress defends her cubs yet she also cares for them. But we shouldn't compare ourselves to beasts, should me? There was no small amount of bitterness in her thoughts. She wondered why she'd chosen to come here, of all places; it wasn't the first nor last place she and Darren had sparred, or the most often-used, or where she'd gotten her most grievous injury from him. She could clearly see the the tree where branches broke when Darren threw her a bit too hard, but that was nothing unusual. After all, he was a man. She was a woman. She could never best him. Right?

No. That's what they think. But try as she might, she couldn't shake the thought out of her head. Would she ever become stronger than him? Could she ever best him? She wanted to believe she could, she really did--Meissa wanted to beat him at his own game, make him suffer as much as she did. But was she even capable of such a feat?

Something prickled at the back of her neck, told her something was wrong, out of place. The girl frowned and scanned the surrounding area. Was he here?

[Gene]

Darren looked up, startled by the sound of her knife thudding into a tree. He'd let his guard down just for a moment and he knew it easily could have been the end of him.

But it wasn't like leaving the forest to merge into the crowds for protection would help him. He wasn't much better off than she was. Women weren't allowed to fight like she was. He wasn't forbidden to teach her, which was the only reason why he'd done so in the first place, but people still seemed to think that he'd done something that could result in his being damned.

Darren's breathing almost stopped entirely when he saw that he could now pick out her familiar-colored eyes in between the trees, turned towards him. He knew that look. It was determined - dead-set on doing something. More than once he'd seen it appear during a drill they were doing. But this one gave him the feeling that she was thinking of doing something much more serious. Like killing him.

Darren didn't move. He didn't blink, rarely breathed. He commanded his heart to slow and stop pounding in his ears so he could hear her, if need be. All of his attention was given to observing her. Because, after all, this was for his survival. He was preserving his life by following all of the rules he'd always droned on and on to her. Patience. Attentiveness. He would remain still, even if she turned her head to the side. He hoped she did. Because he'd told her millions of times - if you think you see movement, let your peripheral vision have a chance. He'd made her do entire drills to strengthen her peripherals.

But Darren noticed something about his clothing that made him start praying. He was wearing clothes that would camouflage him, yes, but he wore it almost every day he'd practiced with her. She should have that particular shirt, that set of pants imprinted into her memory. He hoped as much as he'd hoped for anything that its familiarity amidst the seemingly ever-changing trees would go unnoticed. But he had never trained her to slip up.

[Jade Mystic]

Yes. There was definitely something--there. Sharp eyes narrowed on that spot. It wasn't movement that attracted her--rather, it was the deliberate stillness of an artificial startled something. The forest was alive (he'd taught her that) but that place was dead, like a deer when it noticed the first flash of wolf.

Meissa reached back and yanked her knife out of the tree, sliding its barely noticeable weight inside the folds of her skirt. It was double-layered; no one would even notice it's there. Well, Darren would know. He'd also know about the poison she carried on various parts of her body--in her boots, her sleeves, her oversized rings--and the blowdarts she also concealed in order to make use of said poisons. She'd told him, because she trusted him, and she thought he'd keep all her secrets.

Apparently not.

He wouldn't approve, she knew, of the way she trained her eyes directly on that spot like a predator gaining on her prey. He also wouldn't approve of the way she beelined toward her target. He'd tell her she wasn't subtle enough, that he could clearly decipher her movements. But they weren't training now, were they? They would never train again.

And she was certainly just upset because he'd told them, yes, let the rest of the villagers shun her for eternity. She definitely wasn't upset because she knew they could never publicly see each other again, lest rumours arise and damage their reputations more than they already were.

Meissa stopped. By now she could just make out the tell-tale pattern of his clothing. She didn't know if she should approach him; contrary to apparently popular belief, she wasn't as stupid and reckless as most presumed she was. And she definitely knew she couldn't defeat him now, with her meager skills. If he made no move to approach her, she decided, she'd just continue on her way and pretend as if she'd never saw him, though both of them knew she had.

[Gene]

Darren watched her approaching with a feeling of dread deep in his stomach. He saw his own mistake and he almost kicked himself, as he did so in practice when he messed up despite his mentor's constant reminders before then. That or he'd just have Meissa hit him. She must enjoy it, he'd told himself again and again. He knew that he wanted to throw a punch or two at his mentor just a few years before.

Darren knew he was close to death, and getting closer with every step she took. An instinct, his mind started dashing about, remembering where she kept all of her weapons hidden. He thought of her weaknesses, her strengths. In his earlier days of training, he would have reminded himself where he held his own knives. But he'd gotten used to them quickly and it was no longer necessary for him. He wondered if he'd trained her as well as his mentor had, if she knew as much about her opponent as he did.

Still, he did not move. She knew where he was, so he was going to wait it out as long as it took before he could strike like a snake in waiting. Swift, strong, and subtle. His blue eyes stared into hers and he wondered if he would have to strength to take his gaze away so he could fight her when the time came. But it turned out that he didn't have to, because she stopped.

Either she'd lost track of him, thought she was wrong, or she was giving him a chance to leave unscathed, for he knew she would get a few cuts here and there in. Darren decided that it was most likely the last one. He should probably get up and leave without a word. Or he could get the first attack.

But, no, Darren leaned to his mentoring side that he didn't even know existed at that moment. He brought out his teaching voice - the reasonable tone that got the point across without making him seem like a jerk. Because, really, all he was trying to do was help. He knew that she knew where her mistake was, as she'd already mastered the secrecy that she failed to use currently. But he had to say it anyway. "Much too obvious."

[Jade Mystic]

Blunt nails bit into the palm of her hand. "You still have the nerve to talk to me like that. I'm surprised." Had it ever occurred to him that she'd been obvious for a reason? Probably. Darren was many things, and unfortunately stupid wasn't one of them.

Her hand twitched, and briefly, she entertained the thought of lunging at him, of fixing her hands around his necks and squeezing until all the air left him and he slumped to the ground in an unmoving heap. But she held herself back, not because of her morals but because she knew she couldn't get through his defenses. Even now, with the slow-burning anger building in the back of her mind, sharpening her instincts and honing her senses, she still couldn't get through. Unless he let her. Will he let her? Sometimes she wondered. Even now, Meissa didn't know Darren as well as she liked, and that bugged her. Greatly.

He was scared, she noticed with no small amount of surprise. Why? Why was he scared of her? To him, Mei was an annoyance at best. At least, that's what she thought. She wasn't as strong as him. She could never be as strong as him. So why was he afraid? ... and how did she know? Perhaps she knew Darren better than she thought she did.

Meissa stepped closer, her hands resting on the trunk of an aspen tree. So he didn't leave while he had the chance. Fine. she would oblige him, humour his decision, even though it was the wrong one. Her visage remained cold, her default mode these days, the weight of the weapons and poisons concealed in her clothing and jewelry weighing her down. At first glance, her stance seemed relaxed, but they knew--they knew that muscles coiled under bronze skin, ready to move at a moment's notice.

Of course, Mei doubted that he would actually kill her. Despite his betrayel, he still seemed to genuinely care about her, for some obscure reason. But, better safe than sorry, no? She could be wrong. She'd been wrong before.

[Gene]

Darren grimaced at her words, not bothering to hide his emotions. He didn't need to with her. He trusted her and he wasn't going to pretend that her words didn't hurt. Because they did. They hurt more thany any injury caused by his profession. "I didn't do it, Meissa," he told her yet again, sincerely. This time, though, that pain leaked into his voice. But he did not feel shameful for feeling more than a statue - for feeling human.

Darren's observant eyes noticed the very slight twitch of her hand and he had a sudden, unusual urge to bring his eyes down. He imagined that she was thinking about murdering him and it made the wound even deeper. He knew she probably felt that way, but seeing her fighting the yearning right in front of him was something entirely different. "Have I ever lied to you?" he asked her in a pleading tone, desperately trying to make her see sense. He would never do that to her, she had to know that.

Darren almost flinched when she moved even closer, like a puppy expecting a beating. He'd never felt frightened of her. He knew she wasn't capable of killing him, or she didn't seem to be. He could disarm her. He could wound her. He could knock her unconscious. He could kill her. He could beat her. So the only logical reason as to why he was so scared was that he didn't want to face her anger. He didn't want to disappoint her again, even though he'd never really done anything.

Darren's eyes moved over the way she stood by the aspen tree calmly. But he trained her; he knew better. She was ready to attack should anything urge her to do so. His gaze settled on her hands. He knew those hands. He'd helped them grip daggers better, instructed them how to attack an opponent. He'd touched them, felt them strike his body, even held them. But now, they seemed almost foreign to him. Everything about her seemed unfamiliar just then, although he knew her possibly more than anyone he'd ever met.

"Do I even have a reason to have done that to you?" Darren continued to pressure her, eyes flicking back to hers. Despite his attempts to convince her that he'd done no wrong, he prepared himself for a fight that could very likely occur.

[Jade Mystic]

"Have I ever lied to you?"

For a moment, those were the only words that registered in her ringing mind. A smile curved over her lips, though it didn't reach her eyes. "You did. Two weeks ago." Yes, two weeks ago, when her secret was revealed. Never in her life had she thought she'd hate someone as much as she hated Darren then. Even now, her anger burned bright, though it was a smoldering ember tucked within her chest, something to fuel her rather than something wild and out of control.

"Maybe you wanted recognition for revealing the traitor. Maybe you wanted to jump on the bandwagon of mocking the outcast." Her bronze skin screamed that fact louder than anything, excluding her from the people here. "Maybe you wanted me to kill those who came to shame me. Maybe you secretly hate me." She moved closer still, his fear sending a perverse thrill down her spine. For once, she had the upper hand, and she intended to milk it for all it's worth. "Maybe you did it for some obscure f***ed up reason I can't even begin to comprehend. Maybe you don't even have a reason or maybe you do. How would I know, Master? I'm not you."

If she took one step closer, she could reach out and touch his hair, run her fingers down his neck and back and spine. Meissa had taken a roundabout route, and now she stood behind him. Her steps were silence; he'd taught her how to move through the forest without stirring a leaf. Darren was a good teacher, that she knew. Perhaps, if she'd trained under him for a few more years, she would've became just as deadly as him, if not more so.

But she doubted it. A pupil couldn't surpass her master, it was just wrong. But he wasn't her master anymore, was he?

"Where have your fangs gone, viper?" Because that was what he was to her. A viper, a snake ready to strike at a moment's notice. At least, that's how she would've normally seen him. But now he resembled, more than anything, a rabbit, quavering in his burrow under the eyes of a hungry wolf. Why? Why was he like this? Or maybe he wasn't. Maybe he was just an amazing actor.

Yes, that must be it. How conceited must she be to think that he would cower under her?

[Gene]

Darren knew her smile wasn't humorous. It wasn't even good-natured. But, still, he hoped he was wrong. Her words showed him the truth he already knew. She still didn't believe him. He thought about what he could say to prove to her that he wasn't lying. What was there to say besides words that she didn't believe - words that she would simply have to believe and trust that they were true. But suspicion would never allow that. She would never trust him again.

Her explanation for what could have gone on in his mind finally pushed him past his fright. It enraged him more than any frustration he was already feeling. He did not interrupt, he merely glared at the air in front of him, struggling to keep his breathing normal. When she seemed to have finished, he jumped to his feet and spun around to fix his glower on her. He'd never looked at her that way, nor had he ever talked to her in the way that he was about to. "You think I'm benefiting from this?" he snarled. "You think people treasure me as the man that revealed the truth? No, they look at me and they see a traitor that taught one of their own women how to become a man."

His voice was quiet, but he still managed to put every ounce of his anger into it. "I have never mocked you and you know it. I have never felt any urge to discriminate you. I have welcomed you and hate has never crossed my mind. I don't want you to kill anyone. As you may recall, I wasn't the one to suggest this apprenticeship." Darren still did not hate her, but he definitely wanted to hit her. He wanted to reach out and strike a woman. And the urge frightened him because they were no longer training - this was real, and he could hurt her if he wasn't careful. But he was still too full of wrath for the fear to make another appearance.

"And, no, you are most certainly not me. You hardly even know me. If you did, you would know that I'm not lying."

Darren had never said anything like that to Meissa. It made him want to apologize, to beg for forgiveness. He wished he could take it all back. He wanted to go back to the day when someone - whoever it was - saw her practicing, so he could kill that person. But Darren was a man, and men don't like to back down once they've been offered a challenge. They don't like to eat their words and their pride, so he only stared at Meissa in the same, angry way.