A Hollow Mountain (The Brightest Shadow Book 2), page 34
"Your sein is your sein, and the Wooden Judge saw it fairly." Worise spoke as if stating that the sky was above the earth. "Do you bear some great weapon forged by a master smith?"
Though she wanted to argue against the very system, Tani recognized that it would be futile. These errants believed completely in their path and she would not sway them with such challenges. Her only hope was to prove herself in simple, undeniable terms.
"My weapons are only those I have gathered in my travels." Tani drew her sickle knife and presented it with both hands, though she had no hope that it would make a difference. "But I have trained in many arts. I would never claim to be a master, and I demand none of your ranks, but I am not defined by three lights on a dead branch."
A few laughed, not entirely in good humor. Worise didn't seem to have heard, instead examining her sickle knife. But before she could say anything, Hamoit stepped forward with a broad smile.
"If you would like a fair challenge, why not play the game of beasts?"
Tani blinked at him. "I do not know this game."
"Oh, it is simplicity itself, played by many children in the Maenhu. At the same moment, two players thrust forward their hands, in a position that represents one of the three traditional beasts." Hamoit raised a fist with his smallest finger raised. "This is the manticore... do you see how the finger is the tail? The manticore poisons the behemoth, but is eaten up by the dragon..."
The game did prove to be simple: each of the three beasts overpowered one of its rivals and fell against the other. What Tani completely failed to understand was how the game revealed anything at all. There could be no strategy, the result would simply be luck. Still, it was the challenge they had offered.
"When do we play?" she asked. To her surprise, Worise answered.
"You will test yourself against one of us. If you win, even once, I will permit you to travel with us. Hamoit... if I sense that you are holding back, I will devise a terrible punishment for you."
Hamoit simply smiled, then rose to his feet to face her with one hand in a fist before his stomach. Tani copied his posture, uncertain if there could be some complex strategy she missed. Surely the game of beasts was nothing but luck, unless it had a mental component she failed to understand. She resolved to simply cast her fist forward to represent the behemoth, regardless of what he said.
"Now... three, two, one..."
Both fists flew forward. Tani had shown the behemoth... and Hamoit showed the manticore, defeating her.
"Again," Tani said. She thought that a naive player would attempt dragon, to defeat the previous beast. So instead she planned to reveal manticore to anticipate her opponent. Perhaps he would attempt a step further, but that way lay endless cycles through the three beasts. When the count finished, Tani thrust forward her hand in the manticore position.
Hamoit revealed dragon. He didn't look surprised.
Frowning, Tani ignored the chuckles from the errants around her and simply focused. First, she wrapped her mind within itself as she drew her fist to her stomach. To her knowledge, it was impossible to reach into another's mind, but she armored herself all the same.
"Ready?" Hamoit watched her with complete confidence. "Three, two, one..."
She thrust her fist forward in manticore position... and then withdrew her smallest finger to instead form the behemoth.
This time she saw it: only a flicker of movement, but she understood. Her opponent held his hand in the superior beast both times, changing his position against hers. There had never been any luck at all. He simply perceived the movement of her hand and moved his even faster. No matter how many times she attempted the game of beasts, she would lose.
"Another try?" Hamoit asked, still smiling. Tani closed her eyes in resignation.
"I see your game now. You have proved you are faster than me... I do not think any further proof is necessary."
"So you did see!" Hamoit turned away from her to the others. "Is that not impressive? Only a Greater Ironlord, yet she understood the game of beasts in a mere three attempts. Beyond that, she saw the movements of a Peak Ironlord. That is worthy of a place, is it not?"
"No." Worise spoke harshly, but something had changed in her face. She handed Tani's sickle knife back to her with a respectful nod, despite her words. "I understand now. Your path has made your development strange and uneven."
Tani frowned, since other masters had always praised her path. But Worise had not finished speaking.
"I propose this. You will travel north with us and fight, if we command it. At the end of that journey, you will show us the fruits of your training. If you can attain Peak Ironlord or defeat any Ironlord in the game of beasts, then we will count you as having been worthy."
"And if not?"
"Then you will pay for your journey with all the weapons you bear." Worise leaned forward, eyes boring into Tani's. "And you will tell me exactly how you came to possess Wahleenese steel."
Though it was no great secret, Tani realized for the first time that her weapon must be a mystery to them. She had long thought of all three northern nations as mysterious lands of smiths, but surely they had as many differences among them as between Rhen tribes.
In any case, her path was clear. Tani bowed to the group of errants. "I accept your challenge."
Chapter 25
-
"Once, a great Zeitai who resided in Ith Silvaros had no choice but to go on a long journey. To hold his position in his absence, he required an heir, but the Zeitai had no apprentice. So one year before he left on his journey, the Zeitai asked every respectable family in the city to send their most promising young warrior, saying that he had a gift for them."
- Seinan version of The Zeitai's Egg
-
For the first time in her life, Celivia meditated on top of a mountain. It was a dirty little peak beneath many others, not some pristine height above the world, but she found herself enjoying it. With each deep breath she drew in clean air, and once she grew accustomed to the natural sounds of the mountains, she sat completely undisturbed by her surroundings.
Over a hundred days of that clarity had allowed her to finally break through an old barrier: perceiving sein with her sight. It was a significant achievement, yet she had no one to celebrate with.
Several of Celivia's acquaintances had gained the ability to perceive sein with their sight, and from their descriptions, she had assumed that the air would be filled with glowing lights. When she became aware of her own sein as a vision of fire, she expected to see it in others as a blazing flame around them.
It was nothing like that. Instead, every time she focused on someone, a strong impression of a fire burned itself into her mind. Not even the sight of a fire, exactly, but the feeling of one within their spirit. When she had used her new senses on a Catai, she had felt a steady bonfire. Out in the wilderness, her only other targets were human raiders, who almost all appeared as untamed wildfires.
In herself, the sensation was different. She saw lines of flame running through her body's channels, making her aware of the flow of sein within her in an entirely new way. It wasn't simply that she had access to a new well of sein, it was that she was so much more aware of it. Celivia found herself longing for a good fight, but the raiders made each encounter a risk.
The few times she had been able to catch a raider alone, she had run several experiments. Few of them seemed to have a strong understanding of sein, but their traditions made it flow through their bodies surprisingly powerfully. She estimated that the average raider had the strength of a warrior with awakened sein, and their best were as strong as her... or stronger. Though she had yet to meet one who struck her as a true master, their best remained beyond her.
Given enough time, she-
"Kaen?" The voice broke into her meditation and Celivia opened her eyes.
"What is it?" She could hear two sets of footsteps coming up from behind, but they were familiar. The first voice had been Ghasfik, and soon after Fijn spoke.
"We need to know if we're going to travel deeper into the mountains or head back to Sotfaal." When she turned to look at them, Fijn shifted his feet awkwardly. "Not to put too fine a point on it, Kaen, but Brifik is practically shitting himself to death. I don't think we can fight like this."
Celivia wiped her eyes with one hand. She had prepared for many circumstances, but she had failed to realize how much of a problem illness would be for her soldiers. Since the rebirth that had taken her out of the pits, Celivia was beyond the reach of most simple illnesses, but they took a constant toll on her band.
"We can't let this keep happening." Celivia sighed and stood up to face them. "Ghasfik, we need to enforce discipline. No more sloppy latrines, no more skirting policy. Do you think they can stick to that?"
"I'll try, Kaen." Ghasfik brought a fist to his chest smartly, but didn't meet her eyes. "They'll remember while they have a reminder of illness groaning beside them, but in ten days, twenty days..."
"Do the best you can, Nin. Fijn, when we next resupply, investigate what medicine is available at Sotfaal. Is there anything else?"
"Actually, there is one thing." Ghasfik coughed into a fist. "The men are weary of basic training exercises. They want to be warriors, not to - and I quote Krafan here - 'sit and hum to themselves'."
"None of them fully grasp sein yet. Jumping forward would just be fo-"
"Kaen, I'm not bringing their objection to you. I'm just informing you that they'll raise it when we go back to camp."
For a moment Celivia was incensed that he had interrupted her, but her anger quickly cooled. It was good that Ghasfik felt comfortable interrupting her, especially since he only brought a warning. She nodded in understanding and gestured for them to head back to camp first. As she followed, she watched them and considered the problem.
Seen through her new eyes, their newborn sein appeared as flickering candles, casting more shadows than illumination. Though a few of them took to the training more than the others, in practice the difference was negligible. Untrained soldiers did not become warriors overnight.
But Ghasfik wouldn't have brought the complaint to her if it hadn't been serious, so Celivia considered her options. She needed to mollify them while still giving some task that might help. Despite her progress, she thought her only hope of succeeding was elevating her band to a minimum level of competence with sein, so their teamwork could effectively counter the raiders instead of being overrun.
When they returned, she saw most of the band sulking around the fire. Brifik and Krafan were nowhere to be seen, but their groans from the latrine could be heard. She set them aside, instead focusing on Big Ragh, who stood up to confront her.
"Kaen, we're sick of this meditation bovalshit! We need more power to fight the Lowsteps!"
Huthur nodded in agreement and Splinters spat onto the ground supportively. Before Celivia could answer, Krafan stood as well with a conciliatory smile. "Celivia, we're not asking for much. You have so many wonderful training techniques, please just share some of them with us."
Celivia prevented herself from sighing and began the speech she'd prepared. "There are no shortcuts in sein, at least none you'd want to take. The first step must be to fully understand yourself. However..." She raised a hand to cut off Big Ragh's rising objections. "I understand that you've been training for a long time. Everyone stagnates without a change of pace. So, those of you who are healthy, follow me. You've come far enough that I should be able to teach you something new."
She turned away and assumed that they would follow her. After her time leading the band, she could be confident that they would do at least that. She led them a short distance away from their camp to a flat area beside a cliff face. There, she hopped to a rock and turned to face them.
"Though the sein and the body are linked, they can be trained separately. Today, I will be teaching you an advanced technique of the body, the Fist of Caor. You've come far enough to attempt it." In truth, it was more than they should be attempting, but she thought that their sein was weak enough that they couldn't actually injure themselves.
As she explained the technique, Celivia realized that she had completely overlooked a problem. There was no chance that they would understand without her demonstrating, but that meant that she would be covered in blood. It would heavily stain the sleeves of her current thick robe, and she would need to wear it for many days until they returned to base.
She was comfortable enough with the band that she hadn't considered the problem, not comfortable enough to simply take off her outer robe in front of them. In the end, what decided her was the thought of picking hair from her cuts, washing the sleeves, and then wearing the icy cold robes. When it came time to demonstrate, Celivia stepped beside the cliff and pulled off her outer robes.
Though she was still fully covered, her inner robes hung closer than her men had seen. Ghasfik kept his gaze riveted to her face, Huthur didn't care, and Fijn simply looked down. Big Ragh let out a whistle, but that didn't mean anything except that he was a randy bastard. What worried her was the glare in Splinters' eyes, a lust so close to hatred that it made no difference.
"Now watch carefully." Celivia tried to draw their attention away as quickly as possible, slapping the face of the cliff with her palm. As the shockwave of her own sein ran back down her arm, opening surface wounds, she shook her arm just slightly, sending blood scattering in several directions. That claimed their attention quite thoroughly. "This will hurt, but it will strengthen your body. Practice long enough, and one day your skin might be able to turn aside blades."
"Is that how the Catai do it, Kaen?" Fijn asked. "Or is this a technique they use to prepare?"
"Most use different preparations before their rebirth, but the Fist of Caor fills the same prerequisite. If you master this technique, you would have already met one of the requirements to become a Catai." All of them were absurdly far from mastering it, but if the statement motivated them, it could only help them survive.
Fortunately, her display had them all excited to line up alongside the cliff face and begin striking it. As she'd hoped, a rough and bloody technique suited them well. Celivia cleaned off her arms in a small stream near their camp and put on her outer robe as soon as she was dry.
By the time she returned, they were getting a bit closer, though none had accomplished it yet. Big Ragh had gotten his knuckles bloody, but that was only from punching the rock too hard. Eventually Fijn performed the technique, an uneven line of blood appearing up his arm. The others roared in approval and redoubled their efforts to compete with him.
Celivia watched and occasionally gave suggestions, since they struggled with many aspects of the art. Still, she had never seen them this motivated while meditating. They might not receive great benefits from the Fist of Caor yet, but if they did come to understand their sein later, they would be another half-step down the path.
Eventually two of them left the cliff to approach her, roughly at the same time but glancing at one another awkwardly. She gestured for Huthur to speak first.
"Kaen, I'm not sure that this technique is... for me." His arms were covered in shallow wounds, which was better than most of the band, but she saw a deeper pain in his eyes. "It feels wrong, like my body is resisting it."
"Not everyone walks the same path." Celivia gave him a smile without inventorying her own expression. "Truthfully, you would be better off focusing on your sein. If this exercise isn't for you, simply focus on your perceptions."
Huthur nodded and moved away, relief evident on his face. She turned toward Krafan, still smiling, and he eagerly smiled back.
"I am only taking a break." Krafan came to stand beside her, shaking his head. "I am amazed, utterly amazed, that you can perform such a technique so well. It seems... unfair, that one woman can be both so strong and so beautiful."
Her eyes immediately narrowed and only discipline kept her pupils from contracting against a threat. Celivia kept her expression neutral and watched him, noting that his expression was closer to adoration than anything else. Still cloying.
"That's kind, Nin, but what I want is for all of you to survive against these raiders. Focus on your training."
"Of course, Celivia, of course." Krafan smiled apologetically and backed away, returning to the cliff with the others. Once he turned his back, she frowned. She didn't want to foster that attitude in her band, but she wasn't sure how to disillusion Krafan without being cruel.
It was not a problem she wanted to think about, compared to her own training or fighting the Lowsteps. Celivia resolutely set it out of her mind.
For the rest of that day, she actually felt optimistic. But the next morning, fewer of them joined the training session and more left early. In two more days, only Fijn and Big Ragh were still striking the rock. Huthur at least came nearby and meditated, but the others had mostly returned to their normal routine. The surge of interest in training had only lasted a few days.
As she looked over her band, Celivia was struck with memories of Slaten like a sword to the chest. It was a technique meant for mansthein, yet he had grasped it so easily. Beyond that, he had embraced the core of the technique fully and thrown himself into it with an intensity she saw matched only in herself. Many would have sneered that he was only a human, yet he put them to shame.
The comparison sent her spiraling into a depression that felt brutally realistic. If she had a year, maybe her band would develop. But she didn't have a year, and even then they would not become master warriors. Trying to destroy the Lowstep clan like this was completely futile.
For a time she wallowed, receding into her own training. What broke her out of the cycle was a small skirmish several days later. They stumbled across a mere two raiders, both weaker than average. It should have been an effortless fight, yet her band threw itself into combat recklessly, harming themselves with half-developed sein arts. She needed to kill the raiders herself to avoid any deaths on her side.
That night, Celivia sat in a tree overhead, turning her voidlink over in her fingers. Asking the Zeitai for help would prove her a failure, so her only hope was to draw on other resources. Yet it had been so little time since she had begged Unila for a favor, and the only way to return to Castle Wahles would be to use the single voidlink she possessed. Even if that path led to victory, it would still feel like a humiliating failure to return so soon.
