Post by westernsunset on Aug 15, 2018 5:39:36 GMT 10
Title: Gift of Teaching
Summary: Wyldon tries to find a way to connect with the Shang Warriors (follow up to Mutual Respect)
Rating: G
When the year started and a new group of pages came in, Wyldon made himself scarce while the Shangs were teaching. He started skipping the beginning of morning practice, only coming to monitor the pages when they switched from hand to hand combat to staff work, archery and tilting.
He didn’t hear many complaints from the pages though. No more complaints than usual, that is. All the pages griped about how much work they had to do when they thought Wyldon couldn’t hear, but he didn’t hear Hakuin and Eda’s names more than any other teacher. If he was looking for a reason to get rid of them (which he wasn’t, thank you very much) page dissatisfaction wasn’t going to be it.
Wyldon ran the outer wall of the palace every day at dawn, no matter the weather. He liked to overlook the grounds in the quiet morning and running each day helped him clear his head before he had to be in charge of fifty complaining, confused, and overworked pages. One morning in early fall he glanced down as he passed the practice yards and saw the two Shangs outside, working through strengthening exercises and combinations with staffs, swords, knives and their own hands.
The training master stopped for a moment. He hadn’t had many opportunities to watch any Shang warriors actually engaged in battle, particularly since he spent most battles on a horse, commanding a group and Shangs generally fought alone. Outside bars. After drinking.
No, that was uncharitable. But since Shang warriors weren’t bound to the realm the way knights were, they didn’t often come to Tortall’s aid during wars. But watching Hakuin and Eda showed Wyldon that the Shangs did have some skills. The two moved quickly, seamlessly, working through combinations and passes like they had been born fighting. Which in a sense, they had, given that they probably started training as young as five.
Their style was so different from what he had learned, Wyldon could spot the differences from high above. Even the way they held swords was unlike how he’d been taught. After another moment, he ran on, almost reluctant to keep moving and leave the Shangs behind.
That morning, he appeared at the training yard earlier than normal, halfway through the lesson in hand to hand combat. The pages were broken up into two groups, with Eda watching over as boys sparred in pairs of two, and Hakuin taking his time to correct the stances and blocks of another group.
The two, who had been so united against Wyldon at their first meeting, seemed to have radically different teaching styles. Eda was sharp, jumping into quickly correct form and calling out names and problems for everyone to hear. Hakuin was softer, always smiling and walking slowly in between the boys, pausing to personally address incorrect technique.
From a glance at the boys, Wyldon could see this separation was deliberate. Eda had the boys that never flinched when Sarge yelled at them, who bore insults from teachers and other boys with only haughty silence or an insult of their own. Boys who could handle the bite of a wildcat.
Hakuin’s group was a little younger. A little bit more fragile. The types of boys who Wyldon doubted would ever be great knights because of a fear that seemed to always hold them back. Something about Hakuin’s teaching was encouraging these boys to strike a little faster, wince a little less when they caught blocks. Both the teachers were making their students tougher, stronger, but were taking different ways to go about it, catering to the different needs of the students.
Wyldon hated to admit it. But he was impressed. He had given the Shangs no guidance with the group, though he of course knew the strengths and weaknesses of each boy. Probably because deep down, he wanted them to struggle, to spend time floundering while they gauged the best methods for each page. Instead, they’d set up a smooth and efficient method of instruction for all the different skill levels and learning styles.
Just as Wyldon was losing his interest, guessing each Shang only had one teaching style, they switched, Eda lining up the younger boys to drill falls and Hakuin taking the older ones to run through a complicated combination of blows and blocks. The change in their manner was so subtle, Wyldon knew that many people wouldn’t even notice it. But he’d been teaching long enough to catch the extra inch Hakuin had now that he prowled the rows, firmly correcting students, and Eda’s instructions became a little quieter so that the mistakes of the boys weren’t broadcast to the whole yard.
So they were capable teachers. Fine. That didn’t mean Wyldon liked them anymore than he had this morning.
Except. Except it sort of did. Wyldon never would have admitted it, but he did have a soft spot for his students. As much as they drove him crazy, taking years of his life and greying his hair, he did care for them, and want them to be successful. Sometimes that meant pushing good fighters even harder, and taking a softer hand with younger ones. As gruff as Wyldon seemed, he would never have tolerated teachers who bullied students just because, or focused only on naturally talented boys while ignoring the rest. To see that not only did the Shangs have a commitment to teaching the pages well, but they also had compassion and an interest in helping and instructing everyone. No matter how much they struggled with the material.
As the two warriors wrapped up and herded the pages to their next activity, Wyldon stopped them.
“You’ve done well with them,” was all he said. All he could bring himself to say.
“Thank you,” Hakuin said. He saw Eda open her mouth, but Hakuin’s quick response cut her off. “Hopefully in the future we can work together so their hand to hand training matches with the rest of their training.”
Wyldon knew when he was in the wrong. He nodded stiffly.
“Hopefully.”
Summary: Wyldon tries to find a way to connect with the Shang Warriors (follow up to Mutual Respect)
Rating: G
When the year started and a new group of pages came in, Wyldon made himself scarce while the Shangs were teaching. He started skipping the beginning of morning practice, only coming to monitor the pages when they switched from hand to hand combat to staff work, archery and tilting.
He didn’t hear many complaints from the pages though. No more complaints than usual, that is. All the pages griped about how much work they had to do when they thought Wyldon couldn’t hear, but he didn’t hear Hakuin and Eda’s names more than any other teacher. If he was looking for a reason to get rid of them (which he wasn’t, thank you very much) page dissatisfaction wasn’t going to be it.
Wyldon ran the outer wall of the palace every day at dawn, no matter the weather. He liked to overlook the grounds in the quiet morning and running each day helped him clear his head before he had to be in charge of fifty complaining, confused, and overworked pages. One morning in early fall he glanced down as he passed the practice yards and saw the two Shangs outside, working through strengthening exercises and combinations with staffs, swords, knives and their own hands.
The training master stopped for a moment. He hadn’t had many opportunities to watch any Shang warriors actually engaged in battle, particularly since he spent most battles on a horse, commanding a group and Shangs generally fought alone. Outside bars. After drinking.
No, that was uncharitable. But since Shang warriors weren’t bound to the realm the way knights were, they didn’t often come to Tortall’s aid during wars. But watching Hakuin and Eda showed Wyldon that the Shangs did have some skills. The two moved quickly, seamlessly, working through combinations and passes like they had been born fighting. Which in a sense, they had, given that they probably started training as young as five.
Their style was so different from what he had learned, Wyldon could spot the differences from high above. Even the way they held swords was unlike how he’d been taught. After another moment, he ran on, almost reluctant to keep moving and leave the Shangs behind.
That morning, he appeared at the training yard earlier than normal, halfway through the lesson in hand to hand combat. The pages were broken up into two groups, with Eda watching over as boys sparred in pairs of two, and Hakuin taking his time to correct the stances and blocks of another group.
The two, who had been so united against Wyldon at their first meeting, seemed to have radically different teaching styles. Eda was sharp, jumping into quickly correct form and calling out names and problems for everyone to hear. Hakuin was softer, always smiling and walking slowly in between the boys, pausing to personally address incorrect technique.
From a glance at the boys, Wyldon could see this separation was deliberate. Eda had the boys that never flinched when Sarge yelled at them, who bore insults from teachers and other boys with only haughty silence or an insult of their own. Boys who could handle the bite of a wildcat.
Hakuin’s group was a little younger. A little bit more fragile. The types of boys who Wyldon doubted would ever be great knights because of a fear that seemed to always hold them back. Something about Hakuin’s teaching was encouraging these boys to strike a little faster, wince a little less when they caught blocks. Both the teachers were making their students tougher, stronger, but were taking different ways to go about it, catering to the different needs of the students.
Wyldon hated to admit it. But he was impressed. He had given the Shangs no guidance with the group, though he of course knew the strengths and weaknesses of each boy. Probably because deep down, he wanted them to struggle, to spend time floundering while they gauged the best methods for each page. Instead, they’d set up a smooth and efficient method of instruction for all the different skill levels and learning styles.
Just as Wyldon was losing his interest, guessing each Shang only had one teaching style, they switched, Eda lining up the younger boys to drill falls and Hakuin taking the older ones to run through a complicated combination of blows and blocks. The change in their manner was so subtle, Wyldon knew that many people wouldn’t even notice it. But he’d been teaching long enough to catch the extra inch Hakuin had now that he prowled the rows, firmly correcting students, and Eda’s instructions became a little quieter so that the mistakes of the boys weren’t broadcast to the whole yard.
So they were capable teachers. Fine. That didn’t mean Wyldon liked them anymore than he had this morning.
Except. Except it sort of did. Wyldon never would have admitted it, but he did have a soft spot for his students. As much as they drove him crazy, taking years of his life and greying his hair, he did care for them, and want them to be successful. Sometimes that meant pushing good fighters even harder, and taking a softer hand with younger ones. As gruff as Wyldon seemed, he would never have tolerated teachers who bullied students just because, or focused only on naturally talented boys while ignoring the rest. To see that not only did the Shangs have a commitment to teaching the pages well, but they also had compassion and an interest in helping and instructing everyone. No matter how much they struggled with the material.
As the two warriors wrapped up and herded the pages to their next activity, Wyldon stopped them.
“You’ve done well with them,” was all he said. All he could bring himself to say.
“Thank you,” Hakuin said. He saw Eda open her mouth, but Hakuin’s quick response cut her off. “Hopefully in the future we can work together so their hand to hand training matches with the rest of their training.”
Wyldon knew when he was in the wrong. He nodded stiffly.
“Hopefully.”