Shantania/Supports/AtmaLynia

Level 1

Having hidden herself in a storage cart, Atma takes a moment to reflect. She undoes the knot in her bandana and lets it fall from her head, deftly catching it in a free hand. She studies every inch of it, admiring the patterns of red and brown stains that adorn it. She has steadfastly refused to wash the bandana ever since reaching the Fourth Order of Gozen, and each bloodstain is a reminder of the brave Gozenjin who gave their lives in service to the Orders above them.

The cart door opens unexpectedly. It is Lynia, who at first does not notice Atma's presence until she hears a faint rustling of cloth. Atma, having donned and tied the bandana back to her head in record time, stands and bows. "Milady."

"Captain. ...what are you doing in the grain cart?"

"I was, er..." Atma racks her brain, not having had to come up with a cover story before. "I was merely ensuring that our stocks were safe, milady."

Lynia is not quite sure that she believes this. "I...suppose that's honorable enough...but Wagonmaster Bren patrols the carts every night. We've no need for you here."

Atma bows again. "Then what would you have me do?"

"I would prefer that you rest yourself. So far as I am concerned, Captain, your duties end at the battlefield."

"There was a tactician of the Second Order, once, that told me the same thing." Atma straightens her bandana and exits the cart.

Level 2

"Milady, I am in need of an explanation," says Atma, entering the otherwise-deserted dressing cart with great purpose.

Lynia wonders what could be so dire that she be addressed so urgently. "An explanation for what?"

"When we last spoke, you called me Captain. I...am unaware of the meaning of this title." She tries her best to hide the embarassment of needing to ask.

Lynia breathes a sigh of relief. "The way you approached me, I thought something terrible was happening."

"I apologize, Milady." She bows deeply, kneeling slightly as she does so.

"You needn't be so worried about offending me. I may be a princess, but I insist that you treat me as an equal."

"I already do such things, Milady." Atma says this to Lynia's feet, not daring to look her in the eye.

"Perhaps I'm not making myself clear..."

"This is the way a Gozenjin is expected to behave. Respect to All Orders. It matters not from which Order one resides; all opinions are to be considered equally."

Lynia marvels at the society Atma describes. "Does a Gozenjin ever spend time relaxing?"

"Sleep is all the relaxation that is needed." Atma accidentally lets out a small yawn. "...My apologies."

"Clearly, sleep is not relaxation enough, Captain. You really ought to rest. You've been up for more than a day."

"Before I go, I would at least know what it is to be a Captain."

"That is what your rank is, is it not?"

"My rank," Atma begins, "was Holy Knight of the Third Order. I command...once commanded...twenty Lieutenants of the Fourth Order and four hundred and eighty enlisted Gozenjin of the Fifth Order."

"That title...well, it is awfully long, isn't it? The nearest Caynean equivalent is Captain..."

"But that is not my title."

"Very well, then, I'll not call you Captain. But what would I use instead?"

"Just Atma, Milady. I abandoned my title when I joined you."

"Then in that case, Atma, you may call me Lynia. I abandoned my royal status when I ran from the palace in Caynea."

"So...our situations are not so different after all."

"Well..." Lynia considers the events that led to her joining the wagon train. She and Atma were both exiled from their kingdoms, both over a deadly power struggle just over their heads that they could do nothing else about. "...I...think I had better be going. I have things I must do."

Level 3

Lynia searches high and low, scouring the storage carts, but neither splinter nor tassel of her quarterstaff may be found. As she prepares to call for help, Lynia hears a sound of wood on metal behind her. She wheels around and finds Atma, striking an armor-clad training dummy with a familiar-looking wooden pole.

As Lynia approaches, Atma turns around slowly, leaning Lynia's quarterstaff against the wooden dummy-frame. As before, she bows deeply and apologizes. "I had meant to return this to you before you knew you'd need it."

"I don't understand. What were you doing with my staff?"

"It is a Gozenjin's duty to master at least five weapons in their lifetime, before we are allowed to fight."

"Five?" Lynia can scarcely imagine mastering one weapon, let alone five. "But...you were sent to fight anyway?"

"Well, the interpretation varies, depending on who is asked." Atma removes the padding from her hands and flexes her fingers. "Your staff is certainly a work of expert craftsmanship. I've seen little work as excellent as that, save for some Lestalian pieces in the Shogun's collection."

"Yes, but...I need that staff, in case we are attacked."

"Apologies, Milady. I'd made sure to scout the entire perimeter before borrowing it, to make sure we were not on the cusp of battle."

"And for that matter...why were you training with it?"

"...Do you mind if I am a bit blunt, Milady?" She hands the staff back to Lynia. "I've been observing you during battle and found that your style leaves some openings. I hesitated to tell you, because I knew little about fighting with a long staff. So I borrowed yours and thought to experiment with your style before I felt like I could help."

Lynia feels somewhat confused. "All you needed to do was ask, and I would have lent one to you. As it stands, I've just spent the last fifteen minutes looking for this." She accepts the staff from Atma, imitating her bowing motion. "But thank you. You needn't feel as if you aren't skilled enough to teach me; I am but a novice myself."

Atma breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Milady. Self-defense is extremely important for you, and I had hoped that you wouldn't be angry."

"No, not angry." Lynia takes a step towards the training dummy and assumes her fighting stance. "So, do you feel that you can show me where the openings are in my style?"

"Certainly, Milady. Please take a few swings at the dummy and I will step in when needed."

Level 4

"Right there," Atma calls out, as Lynia freezes in the middle of her current move. "During this motion, you are exposing your legs and are vulnerable to being tripped or crippled."

"I hadn't realized..."

"There is much about self-defense that you do not know. Perhaps even a few things that you thought you knew, but knew wrongly." Atma taps Lynia's shin with a long tree branch. "It is important that we excise some of these habits. In any other subject, misinformation is just that. But in combat, it could get you killed. Such incorrect knowledge is dangerous. Tell me, Milady, who taught you this style?"

Lynia is not sure that she wants to answer. Atma's intentions are pure, but revealing the name of her trainer would be a grave disrespect. "...General Sir Raylen of the Caynean Royal Guard."

Atma is slightly taken aback. "To think that a man of such high stature would encourage such habits..."

"Excuse me? Sir Raylen was killed shortly before I escaped."

"Somehow, I am not surprised, if his style has these sorts of openings."

"Atma!" Lynia finds herself shouting as she throws the staff aside. "Sir Raylen was a friend! He kept my family safe for many years. He...he was stabbed in the back...by my father, the King."

"M-Milady! I'm sorry! I--"

"No. You could not have known. This isn't your fault." A tear streams down her face. "I am the one who should be apologizing. I should not have snapped at you."

"Perhaps this is fine, then. I will remember my misconduct and ensure that it does not happen again." Atma retrieves the staff from the ground and offers it back to Lynia. "I feel we should take a rest from training, to clear our heads. It will do us no good to associate battle with these somber feelings."

Lynia accepts the staff, once again with a respectful bow. "Thank you. I would like it if you accompanied me to my cart. We can speak more, there."

"It would please me to do so, Milady."