The Brightest Shadow, page 43
"Please do."
Jaer began eating calmly and neatly, using the crude spoon like it was a delicate instrument. Though he relished each bite, he was ingesting a shocking amount of the spice and didn't seem even slightly affected. Even eating slowly and enjoying the flavor, Tani was crying before she finished. They usually spoke during meals, but this one they ate in silence, fully appreciating the food.
When at last she was done, Tani took another long drink and smiled at him. "I don't think I've eaten anything like that before. Are those spices from your homeland?"
"Only similar. Though the flavors of Salenkh will bow to those of no other nation, there are many worthy spices in this world." Jaer smiled contentedly and sat back in his chair. "As it happens, this town is home to a merchant who travels a long route from Nol Ulscense itself. Though he mostly trades in other goods, he does bring back a few spices from the far south. I make sure to pass through here whenever possible."
"I understand why you would." Tani considered letting the matter go, but it had been some time since she'd seen something other than placid calm on Jaer's face. "Do you miss eating food like this every day?"
"Life usually takes one gift when it gives another."
It was one of the only times his response rang hollow to her. Tani looked at him more carefully, trying to discern something deeper in his expression. "Would you prefer not to speak about Salenkh? I know very little of it, only what Eraes told me. She's the only Teralanthan I know - the only person from Eltar Trathe, actually, until I met you."
"I do not mind speaking of it, it is simply that many here do not understand." Jaer looked away, eyes unfocusing. "Its beauty is certainly not the beauty found here, but it is the same in one way: the sky extends to the horizon in all directions. The sunsets are beautiful over the sands. It grows cold at night, far colder than what passes for cold here, but it is possible to watch them from a warm palace. I do not think there is any better way to close a day."
Tani wasn't sure what to say, as he'd never talked about his home at such length before. After waiting to see if he would say any more, she tried a different approach. "It sounds beautiful. When Eraes spoke about Salenkh, she just talked about how it was complicated."
"That is what a Teralanthan would say." Jaer chuckled, any wistfulness that might have existed on his face vanishing. He leaned his elbow on the table and rested his face against his hand. "But I suppose those are concerns very far from you."
"No, I would be curious to know more."
"Then let me do things the Salenkhan way and give both sides. Teralanth is certainly the mightier nation, with more respected schools of combat. But their best steel is made in Salenkh, and it is no surprise that they were not the ones to develop the airship. That is something you do not have here, I hesitate to even try to explain it."
"Oh, I have seen one!"
Jaer's eyebrows rose slightly as he continued. "Oh? A rare opportunity. In any case, Teralanth may be strong, but it is also conservative. They are ruled by a monarchy, their leaders decided by mere heredity. Their current family may be good rulers, but their history is littered with despots and hedonists and ineffectual leaders. It is not a good system for choosing a ruler."
"But if they are anything like Corans, they are not willing to reconsider it." That was an argument she had given up long ago near the beginning of her Farwalk. She still wasn't sure she understood how they could respect their kings and queens so much.
"Indeed, many feel that way. It is no accident that I have spent my time here among the Rhen tribes, not other groups. I find your basic view of the world much more agreeable."
It was foolish, but Tani nodded in satisfaction. She could take no credit, yet she still took pride in this master from another continent praising the Rhen. "If you don't have a king in Salenkh, are decisions made the same way as in the tribes?"
"Not precisely. Giving everyone a voice becomes much more difficult when there are millions of voices. Instead, each group chooses a representative. It is indeed a rather complicated system, and I do not think the Teralanthans are entirely wrong in their criticism of it."
"Do you keep up with the developments there?"
"Only in fragments. News of Eltar Trathe is not common here. That is one of the reasons I am going south - I may be traveling away from Salenkh, but there are more significant ports in Tur-Nol."
"When will you go back?"
"One never knows when one can return home." Again, Tani caught a hint of falseness in his words. Jaer rose to his feet, his eyes again a placid mask. She didn't think she had offended him, but she had obviously come close to a difficult subject. "On your feet. Let us see how fast we can pass the time."
Tani nodded and rose to follow him. No one bothered them on their way out of town and soon they were traveling over the grasslands again. "So, should we start training again? I feel as though I'm making progress at being aware of your technique, at least."
"Is that so?" The quiet question made Tani jump and she looked back to find the town distant on the horizon.
"How? You said we would never practice in town, and I didn't feel any... is it possible to leave some kind of sein effect that doesn't act until later?"
"Not possible. Your question should be when I managed it." Jaer let his mask slip enough to give a slight smile. "When you become adept at one step, that is a sign you should move on to the next. Let us see how fast you can progress."
Tani furiously returned to examining herself, trying not to let the hours slip away again. She didn't forget everything Jaer had not said about Salenkh, but she set it aside and closed the door.
~ ~ ~
Another evening approached, one blurring into many. The air around them lay still, yet overhead the clouds raced across the sky, long gray tendrils growing toward some unseen destination.
She wondered if they were truly moving that quickly or if her perception of time had been distorted. When she glanced at Jaer, he shook his head. Tani smiled and let herself enjoy the sky as more time melted away.
~ ~ ~
Even in her dreams, Tani focused on the flow of her sein. She only realized that she was asleep and not actually training when her flow expanded out of her body in ways that were entirely impossible. The flow transformed into glimmering rainbows that arced around her, as if showing off now that they had been noticed.
After an eternity or an instant, Tani remembered that Jaer had told her this might happen. Strong dreams that did not vanish when she realized she was asleep were apparently an advanced technique. Jaer had told her not to concern herself with them, to forget about them if they did not occur and explore them without worry if they did. Tani tried to make herself lift into the air and fly, yet even though it was her dream, she felt that she was only watching herself from the outside.
Her flow froze, the rainbows vanishing. A searing light emerged, growing from one horizon and quickly spreading all around her. Tani flinched from it, suddenly dwelling fully in her dream. She tried to flee, haunted by the blazing light and ghostly figures that smiled as they tried to overwhelm her.
She scrambled desperately, never seeming to put any distance between herself and her pursuers. Even though she knew it was only a dream, Tani found herself growing anxious. What if it was more than that? If the light caught her, would something terrible happen when she woke?
Yet the light around her was fading, dropping beneath the dark horizon as if she witnessed a sunset from every direction at once. Her dream self began to fade and Tani found herself staring at it. The sight was terrible and beautiful at once.
Then she was alone in the cold night. She curled up against herself, closing her eyes and trying to wake up. Instead, in the utter silence she heard the sound of a flute. It was a low, mournful tune. Tani listened to it carefully and found herself sinking into the shadows...
Tani opened her eyes. She doubted she was awake for only a brief instant before the slight aches from her sleeping position made that clear to her. Yet she could still hear the sound of the flute. In reality it sounded even sadder than it had in her dream, slow and mournful. Tani knew sad Rhen songs and had heard an Oken song called a dirge, but this was something different.
Pushing aside the sheet covering her, Tani moved to find the sound. As expected, Jaer was not lying where he had been when they went to sleep. Lit only by the stars, Tani followed the sound until she found him, seated atop a weathered rock while playing.
The last notes faded and he turned to look at her. "This song is not for you, child."
"If you did not want me to hear, you would not have played it so close."
Jaer didn't answer for a long time. He slowly cleaned off the wooden flute and set it in a case, which disappeared into his pack. The entire time he didn't make eye contact with her until the very end, when his gaze captured hers. "Think very carefully about who you are and what you want. Life does not require a Hero to lead you down the wrong path."
Tani waited for a moment, then said the only thing she could. "Do you actually want to talk?"
"What we want is often less important than we might hope." Jaer looked away and shifted his posture, the unnatural silence disappearing. "Do you play an instrument?"
"No, I don't. There never seemed to be time."
"It is appropriate for young warriors to throw themselves into training. But as you grow older, you will find that power alone is not only unsatisfying, it does not lead to more power. Warriors who continue training in the same manner, merely increasing the difficulty, attempting drastic medicines and spiritual techniques... even if that route does not lead to death, it will not lead to their goal."
Though he used the same reflective tone as before, that advice seemed more practical than personal. Tani had often wondered why many masters did not train as younger warriors did and suspected that she had received part of her answer. It was clear that Jaer had closed off all the previous part of the conversation, once again revealing nothing of his thoughts.
"Thank you for your teaching, Master Jaer. I believe I will return to sleep now."
"Rest well."
She left him there and returned to her place. When she last looked back, he was sitting motionless, his hand on his pack. Tani took a long time to get to sleep. She did not hear the flute again.
Chapter 31
-
"Humans are capable of creating only one offspring at a time, with rare exceptions that are simple flukes. This is balanced by the fact that they are nearly completely unable to control their breeding, mating at all times with little regard for contraception. Breilin in particular has a rapidly expanding population, so it is essential for mansthein forces to develop a firm foothold to avoid being swept away by masses of humans."
- mansthein field manual on central Breilin
-
Slaten struck at the same time Celivia did, their fists meeting between them. It was slow mock-fighting, intentionally striking in unnecessary ways. Their sein recoiled, tearing back through them and sending flecks of blood flying from both their arms. Celivia struck again with her other hand and he mirrored the movement, another web of bloody lines appearing on his skin.
Before she could strike again, his foot darted out, kicking at her knee. His control wasn't perfect, but most of the force still remained with him, more blood soaking the inside of his pant leg. Celivia grinned and kicked back, faster than he could react. She followed by grabbing his chest, the movement breaking her skin more, and then slamming her head into his.
Though she was the one to fall backward, blood flying from her face, Slaten was still stunned by the movement. Celivia staggered back, bleeding all over with a grin on her face. For once it didn't fade away entirely as she righted herself.
"I didn't know you could use that technique with a headbutt," Slaten said. "I'll have to think about how to do it."
"I strongly suggest you don't try, not until your control is perfect. There's too much danger of dealing damage to something important in your head." Celivia shook her arms, flicking away blood. "But you're advancing in this surprisingly quickly. I didn't expect someone like you to be good at it."
"Someone like me? What is that supposed to mean?"
Celivia waved the question away and turned toward the pail of water. "Everyone's sein is different, suited for different techniques and development. It's easy to make assumptions about people, but be careful not to take them too seriously. Most likely a small woman is more suited to speed than strength, but there are exceptions - better not to find out when she's throwing a boulder at your face."
Slaten considered that in silence as they helped each other clean off their injuries. The elders always argued about how much of a warrior's sein was determined by their nature. Some held that the body determined sein, others that sein was an inborn factor unrelated to the rest of the body, still others that it could be changed through training. He had no opinion, especially after finding that many other cultures had entirely different beliefs.
The water stung over all the cuts on his body. Though the bleeding was superficial, the injuries from the recoiling sein went much deeper. Even if he got Laeri to heal him later, the ache didn't go away. It just layered on, day after day. He might not be able to shrug off blows like a Catai, but the other day a Deathspawn worker had shoved him into a pile of rocks and he hadn't gotten so much as a scrape.
"You don't talk about yourself much," Celivia said. She usually left to clean the rest of her body after their training, but today she stayed and watched him. Slaten shrugged.
"Neither do you."
"I'm not saying you have to answer, I'm just curious."
"There's nothing much to tell." Slaten lifted the pail and drank the rest of the water as he thought about it. "I was one of many Oken orphans, due to the fighting. There's no trauma, no major incident. I could go back home anytime I wanted. I just never felt that I belonged there. I am Oken, yes, but it doesn't define me."
"I think I can understand that." Celivia folded her arms and examined him seriously. "My past might define me more, but it's something I much prefer to leave in the past. So thank you for not asking."
"Of course."
That got a sharp grin. "I guess that really is nothing to you. I'm almost surprised you bothered to learn my name, when you could just ask questions about training."
Slaten spluttered before he realized that she wasn't sincere. "That's not true. I'm curious about you, I'm just used to letting others speak when they're ready."
"And that's very reasonable of you. I appreciate it." Her expression turned more serious, revealing a bit of the intensity that always lurked within her. "The real reason I asked is that I'm trying to figure out why. You throw yourself into training like few people I've ever seen. Usually someone has a reason for it - someone they want to protect, or someone they want to kill."
"I'm sorry, but not really." That was his full answer, but Celivia was still looking at him so he struggled onward. "Fighting is one of the only things I'm truly good at. Strength will allow me to make a difference in the future. It's one of the only things I can control."
She examined him for a long moment, then nodded. "A good enough answer. I'll see you tomorrow, Slaten."
With that, she left toward the women's quarters. Slaten was exhausted and aching from everything he'd done that day, but couldn't rest just yet. He'd quickly discovered that he could push his body harder if he had his injuries healed by Laeri at the end of the day. While she wasn't supposed to heal for purposes like that, she wasn't difficult to convince.
When he approached the clinic, however, Slaten found it less peaceful than it normally was at night. He didn't hear any signs of Melal, either. Instead, the source of the conflict was two mansthein facing off with each other near the entrance. He actually knew both: Loravasik the Catai and Safakiv the overseer. As he approached, Loravasik lifted Safakiv off his feet by the front of his tunic.
"-ever hear about you putting a hand on anyone again, I will-"
"What are you going to do? Do I need to call someone?" Safakiv betrayed little sign of concern even though Loravasik could kill him in one blow. Despite everything he'd learned in the Futhik lessons, Slaten still had trouble following some conversations, especially Safakiv's accent. There was some sort of degrading insult he didn't understand.
"Do what you want to the prisoners. But if you dishonor another Laenan woman..."
"What, you want to protect the purity of Laenan blood? As if there is any."
Loravasik's response was an incomprehensible snarl of rage. Slaten didn't want to get involved, but also had to get past them. He stepped forward, trying not to impose. "I'm sorry, but-"
A fist lashed out at him and he barely threw up his arms in time to ward off Loravasik's blow. The force of it sent him crashing through a chair and he slammed into the wall behind it. His back screamed out pain at him as a thousand injuries sent blood through his shirt to stain the wall. Slaten winced and stumbled as he regained his balance.
The attack seemed to have been an afterthought to Loravasik, who now turned back toward the other mansthein. But Safakiv's eyes widened when he saw the blood on the wall. Though Slaten wasn't certain, it seemed that his Futhik became much more polite.
Since he wasn't wanted there, Slaten continued inward to find Laeri. The basics of what they were discussing seemed clear enough, though he lacked the details to put it into context. He understood that Loravasik was from a smaller mansthein tribe, so he could guess that it might be related to the animosity. One day he would ask Kolanin what "Laenan" meant, though given how tired the older mansthein looked lately, that day might not come for a long time.
As he entered, a scream of pain drew his attention to the center of the room. He froze in place, staring at the central table. Iralin was working grimly while Laeri shuffled nearby, wringing her hands.
