He'd been severely disappointed until he saw the reaction of the audience he hadn't been able to ditch.
Lyon had begun pestering him with all sorts of questions about how he'd gotten so strong and fast. That she'd never seen that sort of speed much less seen wooden training dummies come apart so quickly.
Ferid had been quite puzzled himself. Georg had made a comment about apples not falling far from the tree. Ferid had remarked that while he was really damn good - he'd never been that fast.
Ranma/Faroush had been puzzled as it was only a combination manuever he'd chained together that had hit a set of training dummies 452 times.
Faroush apparently hadn't been so good at hand-to-hand, but was pretty good with his signature weapon. A three-section-staff with the misname of "Twilight Nunchaku" that was apparently a treasure of the Royal Family. Attacking with it felt strangely comforting, and it seemed to have some odd qualities where it could be locked into staff form or unlocked into two or all three segments with just the desire that it be so.
The Rune on his left hand apparently made a difference. According to one of the "rune sages" in the tower, the power within it could be unleashed to give him special manuevers. Ranma figured it was to make up for the stuff he couldn't use now.
The things that were the oddest about this setup though was the memories. Faroush remembered his tomboy little sister who gave him grief for so many years because HE was a prince of a queendom. He would never sit on the throne. He would never have any real power. Lymselia had brought up all sorts of details on preceeding princes and how they'd been married off in arrangments with other kingdoms to make for better relations, or used as a figurehead for some program or other. Songbird in a gilded cage, and other analogies. Recently that attitude had completely reversed, possibly because Faroush had been so kind and patient and understanding with his little sister.
The relationship with the two parents was likewise more than slightly odd by Ranma's reckoning. Farid was the tough warrior whose skill had gotten him the position of Commander Of The Queen's Knights. Strong and unyielding, yet with a kind and nurturing side to him and a booming laugh like good-natured thunder. Arshtat was, for the most part, a wise and strong woman who always sought the benefit of her people and tried to keep the factions of the various aristocrats in check. She could be kind and gentle and a loving mother, or she could be ruthless and cruel - as had been evidenced at Lordlake.
"Prince? Prince, where are you?"
Faroush glanced down. Lyon was still looking for him. He'd ditched his bodyguard, climbing up and finding a section of support where he could remain hidden and yet watch some of the comings and goings in the palace. Apparently he was not the first to do so, as there were old scratchings here indicating a half-century ago someone else had done something similar. The two names under the umbrella were unknown to Faroush or Ranma, simply an indication that someone else had wanted to be alone for a few minutes.
(Posted Sat, 05 Aug 2006 09:37)
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