The Rook

While training his young contentious apprentice, Warren and Rook decide to engage in a bit of sparring,

Every punch took a little more out of her until she stood in a growing puddle of sweat. She brushed her braids back over her shoulder and looked over at Inspector Young. Doing what he did best, brooding over something. No doubt conjuring a clever quip to try and motivate her while she took a quick break. She rested her head against the punching bag and punched the top of it. “Of all the people you could mentor, a guy with your talents should be teaching a Kaskari, surely.”

Warren leaned forward so that his elbows rested on his knees. “Is that what you think? Because I’m a half-breed, I should devote my time to someone with my powers. Where’s the fun in that?”

“Warren, how can I hope to compete? I’m a blank.”

He pointed at her. “True, you are. But so are many others I’ve fought with and against and let me tell you. They didn’t whine nearly as much as you.” He shot to his feet. 

She stepped back as the air became warm and staticky. It was enough to make her hairs stand on end, Warren could do that. Just cut through the air with his Aether-based power. It always left her in awe and it served as a general reminder that he intended to push her as hard as people more powerful than even him pushed him. 

“Enough practise, Rook. Hit me.” 

“I’m not hitting you.”

“You’re right though, to beat someone like me you need experience.”

“I can’t bend reality like you, the Mortes, or the Kaskari and Karihumans.” 

Warren made an elaborate shrug and rolled his eyes. “Do you think that stopped Joe giving me a broken nose when sparring—or,” he said, pointing to his hip. “The bruised ribs I got courtesy of Abbie. You know what they had in common?”

“Blanks.”

“Yup, and let me tell you, if there’s one person out there, you want to keep at a distance. It’s Abigail Crichton.”

“Well, you have said she’s flexible,” Rook said, folding her arms. 

“Not like that.”

“You had to think for a moment. I saw you thinking that over.”

“Listen, Rook. Are we going to keep chatting or are you going to try and hit me?” 

Rook darted at him, but it was clear her heart wasn’t in it. Only made it easier for Warren to swat her aside like a fly. She pressed him, but her lack of effort only made him more frustrated. “Stop trying to hit me and hit me, Rook.”

“You’re too fast!” 

He deflected her punch and danced back out of her wild swing. “I’m not even using my power.”

She stopped a moment as he came to a jogging rest. “I’m not them, Warren. Face it.”

“I never said you had to be. But here’s the kicker. The cores are just part of the puzzle. The aether is all around us, in theory, with the right state of mind you can channel it too.”

“You’re making that up.”

“Maybe I still see you haven’t laid a punch on me. I guess you leave me no other choice.” 

He was gone in that moment, nothing more than a blur. When he reappeared, he was nose to nose. His ferocious speed only became apparent because something within her being gave her the courage to duck low. She attempted to sweep his leg, but he recovered and danced so that he was behind her. She adjusted and watched him smile before he pressed her again. A flurry of blink and you miss it punches all met her arms. If I can deflect one—but they’re so fast I can’t see them. Just focus, and remember what he taught me.

He advanced on her again, left right, left right—the punches came in faster still and left her arms sore. He wasn’t coming at her with his full strength. Her bones would survive, her body, though, would be very bruised if she didn’t find a way to counter. Without much thought, she swept the left swing aside and delivered a focused haymaker not into his head, but his shoulder. To her surprise, she connected, and he staggered back, clutching it. He held up a hand and used the other to massage the pain in his left shoulder. “See told you. The aether is something we can all tap into too.”

“That wasn’t the aether, just dumb luck.”

He shook his head and planted himself in one of the chairs. He stretched out his legs. “No such thing in our line of work, Rook. You did the right thing and went for a body shot. Harder to dodge at short notice. And you didn’t pull your punch either.” 

“Still hurt though,” she said, shaking her hand.”

“Well, it’s up to you if you want to modify your body. Some Inspectors do, some don’t.”

“And you?”

He sighed. “Just bioware, hardeners mostly. You might want to get something for your fists.”

She slumped down opposite him in a plastic chair of her own. “I’ll consider it. So, are we done for the night?”

“Sure, we’re done. I just hope I remembered to stock the mini-fridge, though.”

She smirked. “Maybe those two also knocked a couple of brain cells loose too.”

“Oh, definitely.”

“Do you miss them?”

Warren leaned forward. “All the time. Word of advice, kid. Sometimes it’s best to not get too attached to things. Letting go is the hardest thing of all,” Warren said, slumping back. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Warren. I’m with you to the end.” 

It was a nice sentiment at the time, but we both know if we Inspectors are good at only one thing. It’s lying…