Never Leave Jorowyn Alone

Never Leave Jorowyn Alone
Chapter 3
BY: Ginsan

Jorowyn frowned as he looked over the latest reports from Saturn. Things were starting off well, but not well enough. They needed these new troops as soon as possible.

He paused, to look up from the report and look over said troops. Most were fine, if a little rusty. Those would be whipped into shape relatively quickly, and sent to various locals on Earth to fight real Youma, and gain some real experience. They rest would just have to be blooded once they got to Saturn.

He was distracted by one of the spherical crystals on his desk began to blink. A new invention he'd constructed over the last few days, while waiting for the Troops to begin arriving. They were a new type of Communicator. Only effective within the atmosphere of a planet, they allowed instant communication anywhere on the planet. While not new in itself, these could be used anywhere, and their reception was vastly improved. He had future plans to create larger versions to be used for faster Interplanetary Communication.

He picked it up, and a holographic image of Thorne appeared.

“Speak.”

“Lord, the last batch of recruits have arrived through the Transports. Sharpe is going over there now, to divide them up for training.”

“Good. Make sure you pick a few to serve as liaison's for each unit. Preferably a low ranked Officer. I'm turning in for the night. Leave your reports with the Night Watch.”

“Understood Lord. Rest well.”

Jorowyn sighed as he set the crystal down. That was getting so annoying after ten years.

He set aside the last of the reports, making a note to finish them in the morning. He nodded to the Guards stationed outside his office, before making his way to his personal quarters in the Palace. The place seemed empty, without the others around, but he tried not to dwell too deeply on it. It wasn't as if he'd never been alone after.

Once he reached his rooms, he simply collapsed onto the bed, letting oblivion claim him, and his irrational thoughts.

* * *

Jorowyn was just finishing the last of the current status reports, when Sharpe entered his office.

“My Prince.”

He cringed, but didn't make an issue of it. It was still too damned early.

“Yah?”

He took a swig from his flask, knowing she wouldn't be here without a good reason.

“There are a few . . . unexpected additions to the recruits that were sent to us, my Lord,”

Jorowyn knew there was more to it, by the way she had said it. There was trouble attached to these 'recruits'. A sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach told him it wasn't good news.

“Define ‘unexpected.’”

“Jorowyn! Get your lazy ass out here! Just what in the hell do you call yourself doing in there anyway?!”

Why did he always have to be right?

* * *

Jorowyn stood before the four 'recruits' for several minutes, sizing them up. He could tell by their fidgeting and scowls, that none of them had expected to be singled out. A pity, since they had to have known he was the one left behind to train all the troops. Chances were, they needed more training than their troops anyway, or they'd just get themselves killed. The blame would end up on him if that happened. It always did.

Amara finally had enough of they was Jorowyn was scrutinizing them all.

“Enough with the posturing already. Why the Hell did you pull us away from our troops?”

Jorowyn shrugged, as he switched from inspecting them, to their equipment.

“Because I felt like it. A whim if you will. And you had all better learn now, that I have a lot of whims, and I expect each of you to follow them. I don't have time to babysit, and coddle your egos. You're here to learn real combat tactics, and what it really means to have your life on the line. Not to mention, showing you how to fight large numbers of Youma, without getting yourselves killed.”

“And just why do we have to listen to you? You don't even have a rank anymore.”

Jorowyn turned to face her, and ever so slowly, gave her his most demonic smile yet.

“Ah, but you see. This is Earth. King Endymion is in charge here. He's now also in charge of the Silver Alliance. I work for him. I'm in charge of training all recruits. You volunteered to be recruits. Therefore, I'm in charge of you. Simple, no?” He spun around, and grabbed a practice sword from a nearby weapon's rack.. “Now, since you seem so eager to prove me wrong though, then let's settle this with a spar, shall we? I'll even let you use your real swords.”

Jorowyn smirked as Amara took the bait, drawing her swords. Jorowyn turned to one of the nearby guards, who was starting to get rather nervous.

“Take note, we're both agreeing to this. I take full responsibility if something goes wrong.”

The guard nervously nodded his head, as Jorowyn crouched down into a fighting stance, the practice sword at the ready.

“Please, your Royal highness. Don't hold back on my account. I do want this to be fair.”

“Oh, I wouldn't dream of holding back.” She slowly started to circle him, looking for a good opening to attack. “It's time someone knocked some manners back into you.”

Jorowyn remained silent as he analyzed her in turn. So far, the other Monarchs, had remained mostly silent. Likely waiting to see how things would play out between him and Amara. Good. They were about to a close up look at exactly what it had taken for him to survive since they abandoned him here, ten years ago.

He let his sword drift a few inches to the right, leaving an obvious opening. He wasn't surprised, when Amara fell for it, and dashed in to strike with her swords. He tumbled toward her, passing dangerously close to her blades in the process. In one fluid movement, he jabbed the butt of his practice sword into her abdomen, and then rolled sideways to wait for her to recover.

“So, Amara. Let's make this interesting.”

Amara glared at him as she recovered from the hit. She wouldn't be falling for a ploy like that again, he was fairly sure. At least not an obvious opening like that.

“Define 'interesting'.”

“If you win, all four of you can go train with your troops without my meddling.”

“And if you win?”

“Then you all agree to train my way, and you have to wear a dress when not at drills.”

Amara snarled as she started circling him again. Like Hell she'd ever wear a dress. Then again, it was a change to be rid of the arrogant bastard.

“Done.”

Jorowyn smirked again as he started baiting her by reaching out and tapping her swords with his crude blade. He kept it up for several minutes, as the others began muttering to themselves, speculating on who would actually emerge the victor. He ignored it for now, keeping a close watch on Amara as he continued to bait her, waiting for that one chance that he needed.

“What color would look best on you. Maybe a frilly, purple dress, with lace trim? No, no, I think sugar pink with plenty or ribbons would work. Maybe even a fancy ribbon in your hair? Oh, that's right, you keep hacking it off, trying to fake being a boy.”

She growled as she smacked his word away, probably using a little too much force. Not that she cared at the moment. All she wanted to do was make him eat dirt. Maybe a few inches of her blade. He did say he'd take full responsibility.

“So tell me. When I win, who do you get to boss around then? The local village idiot perhaps? I suppose not, what with you being the town drunk and all.”

Jorowyn's smirk slowly melted into a blank mask, as he baited her swords one last time. He used his crouched down position to launch himself at her as soon as the blades touched. She braced herself for the impact, setting her legs to take the brunt of the force. The blow never came. Instead, Jorowyn had ducked between her legs. Before she could recover, he spun, and dug the pommel into her kidney, grinning in satisfaction as she hissed in pain as he ground it in deep.

He rolled away, as she spun around with her swords, barely missing taking his head off. He jumped back to his feet, and sidestepped as she lunged for him, blades first. He stayed moving for several minutes, avoiding or blocking her attacks. He certainly had her focus now. He hissed, as a quick block resulted in her blade scoring a shallow cut across his shoulder. Time to finish this before she had a chance to get carried away.

The next time he parried her, he ducked under the blades. From his crouch, he sweeped her feet out from under her. As soon as she was down, he leaped on her, pinning her arms with his knees, and kissing her neck with his blade.

“I do believe I win.”

He stared down at her until she relented, then jumped up, and out of the way. He replaced his practice blade as she got herself up.

“You can go change into your dress after practice is over. Now that that's out of the way, let's say we get down to some real practice.”

Jorowyn smirked as pulled out his flask, and too an especially long pull, before forming one of his crystal swords.

“Now, let's start with the basics.”