Checkmate, Dad. [Solo/Training/Private/Int D-C]

Minerva's boots hit the sand first, her shoulder soon followed as her body shook the impact of the leap with a roll, her body narrowly dodging the incoming spear. The air around her crackled fiercely with the occasional spark of her magic. She swung her staff, an bolt of her magic running the offending assassin through, bursting in his heart.

This was not her first time on the field with Reim's forces, so she was well aware of how seriously the men took their mock battles, and how excellent even the recruit's skills were. She loved every second of it. As much as the woman abhorred the concept of war, battle excited her, leaving her pulse, mind, and heart racing like nothing else ever had. She loses herself in swiftly crafting a flanking maneuver.

"MINERVA!"

Her guard's shield is up before she even had time to look, the rubber tipped arrows bouncing off Themistis' shield harmlessly. She knew the arrows wouldn't kill her, but the damage would severely inhibit her ability to command her forces.

"Daxos!" She young woman shouted, remembering her role of tactician and commander. "Take the tertiary squad and close in from the southwest around the column ruins. Melius, collapse the front line in a half circle. We'll get them to attack from all directions before exploiting their thinned ranks."

The plan was risky, she knew, but she trusted Daxos and Melius. "Thalia, Take point and rally the platoon! Shields up! March!"

Her mind swarmed with possible counter maneuvers as she separated herself from the squadron, commanding charge to Melius. She knew that a small group of soldiers could easily collapse on the rear of their formation, and she needed to prevent that. Daxos' own flank had covered the western side, but the east needed it's own cover.

She sprinted to the ruins on the eastern side, quickly finding a low vantage point that would give her access to each possible route her enemy-allies could take. Lo and behold, she was right. Two small squadrons of 5 men approached from two different paths.

I need to take them out separately. Minerva calculated, approximating that, at the most, four people would make it through. When both of our forces only number 40, and my main force only is lacking 15 men for the flank, those four would make it 34 on 25...

I cannot let them get through.

She slips out from her vantage point. Focus Minerva, focus. You have one shot, so it has to count. The air crackled with her rukh, the young woman trusting her calculations as she sent her spear flying.

---

"I can't win!" Anax threw his hands up in frustration, her daughter drawing herself out of the cinematic recreation of their board game.

"Daddy, you let your magicians die too quickly!" She scolded him. "Melee units will only get you so far when my platoon is hurling natural disasters at your army."

She scooped the pieces and dice into a box, rolling up the grid like map and the measuring tape they had used. "Keep your life magician away from combat as long as you can. They're the only units that can return someone to the battlefield."

"Minerva, you are the most intelligent woman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. I'm proud of you, Minerva. Don't ever forget that."

She smiles, looking up at her father with pride in her eyes. "Never."

Word Count 572/500

Minerva poured over the tomes, painstakingly researching what she could on her lightning magic. It had been weeks since the incident with the woman in the bar...Ok, perhaps incident wasn't the right word. Minerva was certainly thankful for the input of the other woman, and even utilized it, but she hated the feeling of being withought knowledge, and without awareness. She struggled knowing that she still needed help. She'd been pouring her heart into her study of magic for over two years, familiarizing herself with the basic runes and spell constructions of every type. What was she missing?

She dropped her head ont her desk, and exasperated sigh opening a rudimentary book on the basics of channeling rukh and dispelling her borg. She knew something was amiss in her studies. A foundational error. Something, somewhere had to be the reason she couldn't advance her knowledge. There must have been something she had yet to learn that was keeping her from going on. It didn't matter how manytimes she could beat her dad at a board game, if she couldn't accomplish this, how could she follow in his footsteps, teaching others abouther passion?

And so Minerva burried her face in the book, her mind racing through the pages so fast she almost missed it.

"Rukh is not a tool. It is a living spirit, a vitality with a will of its own. One can command rukh without understanding it, but to gain a true grasp over the power of the rukh, one must listen to the rukh flowing within them. They must commune with their own rukh."

Minerva snorted. "Surely not. Something that idiotic is only for weak minded fools who couldn't explain what they were doing with logic." But even through her words, her mind paused. What if the book was right? What if there was more to the rukh than just utilizing it in a mathematical and logical way to alter the owrder of nature? After all, what was the worst that could happen if she gave it a try? She'd walk away with a clear head, ready to approach the subject with a refreshed mind.

She pushed herself out of the chair, moving out into the garden and sitting beneath the peach tree, the leaves swaying in the gentle breeze. She sighed, forcing herself to slowly empty her mind, and for such an intelligent girl, this was a lemgthy task. She stopped thinking about her father, her magic, the clothes she had just sewn, even the text she had just read. All she focused on was feeling the ebb and flow of the rukh, trying to find some order.

Ten minutes in, her eyes had closed, and two hours later, she was still beneath the tree, oblivious to the time that had passed when she completely gave up on searching and simply sat there. It was in her moment of pure silence that shw heard the first chirp, soon followed by another, and another. The air around the young girl filled with the joyous chirping of her rukh, a beautiful symphony that only her ears could hear. She sat back and listened, the movement and emotion of the rukh flooded her mind.

Tears began to fall gently from her eyes, realizing how beautiful the rukh was, and how utterly arrogant she had been.

Word Count 1129/500