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Yours is the mark of a blood red heron. Specifically the likeness of the blutreiher, a noble crimson bird that rules the ice hewn plains of your mother's homeworld with its graceful talons. Neither bear nor wolf nor icy lion dares approach the bloody heron lest their guts be spilt out to freeze upon the snow. The apex predator that even patrols of snow troopers keep at a respectful distance, acknowledging its mastery over the tundra.
That crest is an old one, and it holds many mysteries within its blood red circuitry.
Mysteries that strengthen the body. Mysteries that sharpen the senses. Mysteries that let you taste the magic upon the air and teach you the flavor of spell that Sieg weaves unto himself.
Deepest of these mysteries is Severance: the concept of taking something whole and splitting it into its component parts. You only know its most basic expression, and even that your mother cautioned you against using lightly. Anke, Sieg, and Dieter have all seen you wield your magics, but not even they have seen your use of the Deeper Mystery of the Heron. Nor will you use it in a spar, for all too easily can severance of an object become a bloody mess.
CLACK. CLACK. CLACK.
You and Dieter chase one another around the dancing hall, each aiming for a solid blow and intercepting with your practice swords. Both of you broke away from your bad habits of aiming for your opponent's sword when you were little, and now you actually fight like swordsmen. Too well matched, for you both know one another's tells, and read eachother like a book. Dieter watches on in satisfaction as his two pupils at least meet his expectations, while Anke looks on with sparkles in her eyes.
Sieg is almost getting on to that age where he'll have reach and strength both in spades against you. He already can match you well, when not a month ago you felt like you had an inch upon him. The fight drags on, much more of a burden than it used to be, even if you have grown well used to the leaden cores of the practice swords. But you intend to win it all the same, and you know Sieg's bad habits well enough.
You pin his sword down to the ground and spin into a twirling hook kick. Your leg goes high, he easily dodges backwards and slips his weapon free... just as you intended.
Sieg's eyes bug out when he catches eye of something he should not have let distract him, and you take full advantage. "Where are you <span class="mu-i">looking</span>, Sieg?"
Darting forward, you step through and into his guard and knock his sword clean from his hand. Your aggressive footing breaks his stance, and he tumbles to the ground. Your sword pointed at his chest calls the end of the spar. Your face twists with distaste when his only words are, "Worth it."
Dieter coughs out a dry chuckle and chides him that, "It will not be worth it when a beautiful woman cleaves your head from your neck, Sieg. Schnee... I normally would chide you for such tactics, but feel free to continue with them until that foolish boy learns."
