It was part of her therapy.
Aiasdotter had suffered both psychological and physical torture at the hands of The Hyrm, and although she had been “healed” by Stiletto’s medical technicians, there was still the pain.
Aiasdotter had been given into the care of ‘Schripp, and his first act had been both training aid, and bonding technique. He had taken away her vision.
It was only temporary, a blockage of the functioning of the occipital cortex, and she knew that when she earned it, she would get her sight back.
The crack of the shinai against the men, the grill mask of her Kendo armour, made her head rattle, although in truth it was only a light tap with the bamboo sword.
“Feel,” ‘Schripp encouraged for the hundredth time.
Again, she waited. It wasn’t like being in the dark; there was no light, no vision. All her other senses had become incredibly acute. She could smell ‘Schripp’s sweat in the confines of the room and hear the slow beating of his heart, but the physical senses were not fast enough for what she was trying to do. She had to feel the attack.
Time and again ‘Schripp had told her, “You must feel the intent. Do not think.”
They had spent months disciplining her mind, that she might learn to lose her thoughts.
There was no noise, no movement, just her own action. The shinai in her hands moved with lightning speed, to be held vertical by her left ear to block the cut, and the crack of the clashing bamboo was deafening.
Her feeling of triumph was short lived as a fraction of a second later the right side of her men was lightly struck, and that patient voice spoke right beside her.