Burrowing ahead

[Anastasia]

"Tell Sanzha to act her age if you want more," Is the retort you get, "Now old lady, is that all you came for?"

Lady Sanzha's smile is as frigid as a winter midnight. "I changed my mind. Let's go practice and spar. Now." She reaches out and firmly grabs his shoulder, then hops down with him. You notice he lands without even a reaction, unbothered by the drop. The apprentices all scatter away the moment they land, clearing out without a single word.

[Corwin]

Seira protects the apprentices by erecting walls of force and establishing an arena of sorts as she summons a fluffy cloud to sit on and observe the action below!

[Anastasia]

Going to just casually watch or do anything more in depth?

[Corwin]

I'll watch! Sanzha hasn't really shown her prowess before so this is a good chance to see how good the two of them are! And also, how they use their link to Water.

[Anastasia]

Sure. Give me a K:P check.

[Corwin]

10 for 117.

[Anastasia]

A duel.

Trident and sword.

The two move as if water was a part of them, as if they are nothing more than lords of the water and it moves to their command. Tidal waves are born, tsunamis crest and groundswells burst. Water erupts everywhere as they move fast, with the uncanny, blurring speed that is joined by song. Two songs of water and victory, competing against one another. They dance as much as move, each clang of their weapons another note in a shared ballad.

You've seen it with Sanzha before, the ability to draw more Water within herself.  The art of a madalani. If Sanzha is a river with perfect walls to contain it, old Tamzar is like the ocean from the waves to the depths of a deep trench. One channels deeply and fully, while the other barely channels but holds so much more. There is a tremendous weight to his soul, a size unlike others you have encountered before.

[Corwin]

Wizards are great at emulation, Seira muses. Rogues aren't too bad at it, but with a spell one can always be anything she wants to be, and do anything she wants to do. Divinity then takes it further, and the end result causes Seira's thoughts to drift and wander.

She can force her focus into her strikes. She's fast, and while saying that her speed is beyond equal is arrogant nonsense, certainly the amount of those in Creation who are faster is ridiculously finite. Twenty, twenty five on the outset? Her body has internalized the ability to operate faster, and her mind has learned to adapt to a higher thinking speed. Flight is an innate ability that comes easier than breathing, which actually requires some consideration to emulate. Her force of personality is ever a shield against the world, much as it enforces her will upon it. And finally, control over a primary element. Seira, too, has dived deep into her understanding of Fire, and her connection to it is likely on par with Kossuth and Lathander, even if the actual power she can draw from it is far less. The conceptual identification with the Fires of Creation, a dangerous flame that can burn all if not warded properly, but always seeks out the sinners... she's able to call upon it at will, wielding it as a second nature.

Is that all not an emulation of what it means to be a madalani, similarly to how a Factotum might achieve the feat? Or is there more to the practice, similar to how she can easily wield any of the mortal spells through her divine remit but needs to lean on her true talents for anything more advanced? If so, she'd like to understand it better to help guide Sanzha with her outsider's perspective.

[Anastasia]

Again and again and again. Thrice they clash, then thrice more.

Again and again and again and again. Water and waves and unyielding steel form the song together.

Yet the old marid is too much. His depths swell, a ripple of power that resonates throughout his vast soul. It climaxes in a single blow that leaves Sanzha skidding away and ultimately on her back, trident left behind.

"You're still not there," he observes, as he smoothly sidesteps a sudden lance of water from behind.

Slowly Sanzha sits up, "And if I used all my powers, you'd be dead," she retorts with some heat in her voice, a taste of real anger. "You're lucky I coddle you, ancient Tamzar."

Tamzar comes over and offers Sanzha his hand, which she takes. "And you're lucky the current Padisha or the Water Lord doesn't quench you like an arrogant elemental. Are you done posturing, my ancient lady?"

[Corwin]

"Why didn't you use some more powers?" Seira asks curiously, hopping down to meet them with Oraga. "You could've made your song more powerful, and that should have been enough."

[Anastasia]

"That," Sanzha says in a cold voice that would make Auril jealous, "Is not the point."

"The flirting is the point." Oraga rumbles.

Check that. Now the gaze from Sanzha is cold enough to impress Auril. The old marid chuckles at this but doesn't say anything.

[Corwin]

"Enlighten me! Because this reminds me of the time Donald challenged me to a bout and then said that he's better in terms of pure skill. It would've been a wonderful story of the student surpassing his master... if he weren't my student in the arts of magical combat. What's the point to staying arbitrarily pure when your abilities resonate with others? If a school is so rigid it forces you to eliminate such influences, why not start a new one that allows them? That feels like a Water aspect of adaptability to me."

[Anastasia]

"The point is to grow," It is the old marid who speaks, "Not all aspects need flow forth at once. Besides, this old woman's never beaten me on my own terms."

"There's a fine line between bravery and suicidal thought," Sanzha notes with words like ice.

[Corwin]

"Oh geez, you marids. I can never tell if you're good friends or one word from a fight to the death," Seira complains, laughing. "I'd say there's plenty of ways to grow, but sure, you do you." Tapping her lips in thought, she asks Sanzha, "Now that I think about it, training others is another way to grow and improve. Perhaps you could get a few students yourself and see where that takes you?"

[Anastasia]

"Ah, your own students." The old marid says. "Would you like lessons in teaching?"

As he says that he sidesteps a sudden barrage of icy daggers, sword in hand again. He salutes Sanzha before she charges again, trident meeting blade as the war is renewed.