Jean and Kylun

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

Jean and Kylun do some training, and some talking.



The Danger Room was in Kylun's usual training configuration: clean stone walls, the padded floor mat with its circle design, the sun streaming through wide windows overlooking a snowy mountain vista. Inside the circle, Jean and Kylun moved back and forth, trading strikes and counters.

Kylun remained mostly on the defensive, observing Jean's technique and offering the occasional word of encouragement or correction; after a few more minutes, he stepped back, gesturing for a halt.

"You do well," he said judiciously. "Your strength, speed, wind--all have improved." With a smile, he added "As I thought, we had only to remind your body of what it had forgotten."

Jean nodded her thanks for the compliment, but looked a little dubious. "Well, some," she agreed. "I don't think my hand-to-hand training was ever this comprehensive before..." She shrugged. "It just wasn't my field."

Kylun nodded. "The team is larger now, and more active. We encounter a very great variety of missions." He smiled wryly. "I confess I find it a bewildering variety, sometimes. And I am a . . . scalpel? Specialized. I am very good at what I do, but what I do is limited in scope, so I do not see the full array of situations in which the X-Men find themselves. You, on the other hand . . . your gifts are so flexible, so variable, that you are likely to see a very great range of situations. And so, I think, you are best served by being prepared for a great range of situations. But I can see how that could feel . . . overwhelming, at times, compared to what you were used to."

"Overwhelming, yes, and sometimes a bit daunting. But I think you're right, on all counts." Sighing, she shook her head with a little smile. "Trust me, though, you are not the only one who feels it's a tad bewildering to think of all the X-Men do these days."

"It was so much simpler at the monastery. Find the cultists, stop their rites, free the sacrifices. The details differed, but at base it was always the same. Here . . ." He shrugged helplessly. "Who knows what the new day will bring? Not this poor sheltered monk. But we warriors were always grateful when one of the mystics could be spared to help us, and you are like them, in some ways. Their gifts were different, but you share that flexibility."

"How so?" Jean asked, curious. They had spoken some of his time at the monestary, but there was still much she didn't know.

"Well, their powers were . . . I suppose you would name it magic, but I would not consider Amanda an example. They practiced great discipline and self-mastery, and could only rarely be spared to fight with us . . . especially in the last years, as the seals on Necrom weakened. But when they did . . . some had the gift of far sight, and could scout for us at little risk to themselves. Most could strengthen themselves, or unleash force against our foes . . .and of course they were of great help against the sorcery and the demons of the cult." Kylun tilted his head. "They had their own fighting art, as well, that combined hand-to-hand combat with their more esoteric abilities. I think it could be adapted, and serve well for you, if you wanted to try."

The idea that Amanda was not a proper example of magicians who studied discipline and self-mastery earned Kylun a wry smile, but Jean's nose wrinkled slightly at his suggestion, as she still didn't tend to think of herself as a hand-to-hand fighter, but... "It would probably be a good idea. If hitting someone is a tactic of last resort, it had better be a good one. Have you spoken with Nathan? He's also teaching me about combining my powers with fighting. When we have time."

"He would know more intimately than I--but perhaps I know of some techniques he has not discovered." Kylun chuckled. "Nathan and I do not speak as often as I might like, unfortunately; something always seems to come up." He grinned at her expression. "And, as my old teachers would say, it is not necessary for you to enjoy the lesson; if it may save your life someday, it is only necessary that you learn. Again?"

"Well, that's certainly true enough," Jean said, nodding, and moving back into a ready stance. "On the whole, I'm actually quite a fan of all things which make it more likely that we don't come back in pieces. Or, at least, a fan in theory." And, putting the theory into practice, Jean went on the offensive.

"Both personally and professionally, I would imagine. I have noticed how much work the X-Men are for the medical staff--and keep your hands higher on the recovery, you are leaving yourself open--" Kylun's own hand flashed out, tapping Jean on the forehead. "Like so."

The comment got him a rather wry look as she made the suggested adjustment. "Better?" she asked, starting again. "And yes, less work in the lab would be good."

"Better. But again with that combination; your muscles must remember, not your mind alone." After a few more exchanges, he stepped back, lowering his hands. "Perhaps a short break?" Kylun smiled faintly. "The work that you do accomplish still seems . . . very much like a miracle to me, quite often. Our healer-mystics had great powers, and their knowledge was vast, but they could not replace missing limbs, or--even the more mundane injuries, as often as they occur, and with your medicines and your machines you can heal them at only the cost of, perhaps, a little lost sleep. It is a very great wonder."

"Rather more than a little," Jean said. "It... it can be very, very draining. Not the way that healing is for Amanda," she added quickly, "but, still. A professor of mine once told me, how did he put it... 'The constant caring for others, always giving for their need, it leaves you with little energy to care for yourself. And it's worse yet in a hospital - spend all your energy on strangers, and none left to care for your loved ones. It's why a lot of relationships fail.' But then, he was a bitter man." For a second a sort of weariness had shown in Jean's eyes, but she covered over it quickly. "And, of course," she said, "the job has a lot of benifits. I've always wanted to be able to help people, however I could."

"I suppose . . . I do not often think of it in that way. I grew up knowing that my life was lived for others, for the faceless millions who would grow old never knowing that our guardianship preserved them. We had each other, and that always sufficed, for me. And here at the school my life is still lived for others." Grief flickered across Kylun's face for a bare instant. "Though it has been . . . a long time since I dreamed of something beyond my work." He shook his head. "In any case, I think you and Scott would seem to disprove your professor's maxim."

"Like I said, he was a very bitter man." Jean shrugged. "I usually don't put much stock in what he said. It's just been a... difficult month or so."

"On that you will have no argument from me." Kylun smiled wryly. "I did mean to pay you a compliment, on my oath, though perhaps I could have phrased it better."

Jean smile back, sighing. "Well, thank you, then. I'm sorry. Haven't been at the top of my game recently, in a lot of ways."

"Then perhaps it is time to change the rules, or play a different game." He laughed. "And speaking of which, I believe we have a little time left in this session."

Raising her eyebrow, Jean waved towards the mat. "By all means, let us continue. Have you a suggestion for a different game?"

"Well, this itself is a different game than your usual, is it not?" Kylun said, taking up a position opposite Jean in the circle woven into the mat. "There can be a great catharsis in physical activity."

"That's what I hear, yes." She smiled. "Let's get carthartic."