Professor Aionia pointed to her head.
“Vincent’s Circle took inspiration from the Song of the Heavens to interpret their findings. You’ve learned of the Epic Poem-song sung by the FOUNDER ARTAIA, haven’t you?”
“Yes.”
“In that poem, there is a word called Kaha. We cannot translate or capture its essence in our contemporary Mythrisian, because our language stands eight thousand years apart from the language of Artayana.”
“But roughly, Kaha can roughly be understood as the Shape of One’s Soul. It also refers to its Strength, or Constitution. In Artayana, we surmise that ‘Ka’ implied the shape or force of something, and ‘Ha’ implied breath, or soul.”
Elwin cocked his head in curiosity. “Is it related to the word ‘MAHA’? Sounds similar.”
“Correct,” she replied. “The word MAHA also finds its origin in that great song. We believe ‘Ma’ has a range of meanings from ‘Great’ and ‘Divine,’ and ‘Ha’ meanings from ‘breath’ or ‘soul,’ as I’ve said. Therefore, ‘MAHA’ should mean something close to Divine Spirit, or Great Soul.”
“So that’s why we call the divinities MAHA!”
“Correct. And why we refer to the Four Elemental Arts as the Four Mahamastra.”
“Ooh...” Elwin trailed off, understanding at last how and why they called the FOUNDERS and many others who ascended to divinity that way. “Returning to Vincent – Dr. Vincent?”
“Yes.”
“What did Dr. Vincent and the others do?”
“Since the energy that people drew came from an unidentified source, and was certainly not Asha, since Asha was the faculty with which to see it, Vincent’s Circle decided to give it a name of their own. They named the pool from which people drew their energy as Kaha.”
“...So they thought we drew strength from our soul?” Elwin inquired, eyes glimmering upon the edge of insight.
“Correct.”
“But why our soul? Why can’t we just throw this rock or move this water or...”
“Think about it, Elwin. If you look out there, none of the animals and plants we know actively control the Elements and bend the natural world as we do. It is almost divine, the power we possess. In that comparison, are the Elemental Arts ‘natural’ to you?”
“Yes.” Elwin answered curtly and with certainty, because he couldn’t imagine a world where people couldn’t wield the Elements. But Professor Aionia gave him some moment to think, and it appeared less so to him. “Actually... now that I think of it, no.”
“Do you remember what Quanmaster Montgomery said three months ago?”
Elwin strained his tired head, trying to recall his words.
“He said that every time we do something the world cannot naturally do, our mind performs work to make it possible... our mind performing work – our mind performing work – so that is what he meant!”
Professor Aionia gave him a cheerful nod.
“Oh, the FOUNDERS bless us, that explains everything! That explains so many things! That’s why people can’t split mountains and become the Sun and all those wild feats that I imagined doing when I was little...!”
The revelation played like a symphony in Elwin’s head, quenching his thirst for so many answers he never had a chance to get out of his father. But there was one more thing he needed to ask.
“Wait, professor – but this means – can people improve their Kaha?”
“Surely. Your Kaha can be deepened like an ocean, and this is what you are doing now. You didn’t think I was tiring you for no reason, did you?”
“No,” Elwin replied, sheepishly rubbing his hair.
“Your Kaha can be trained and strengthened just as a muscle is trained. You can thank Vincent and his fellow experimental philosophers for their efforts in uncovering that knowledge. This is why I said curiosity and discipline shall carry you higher than just blessing alone – those with blessing may have a deep Kaha, but they can be beaten by those who know and practice to deepen theirs. Now, stand.”
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Elwin stood up, finding to his surprise eight woodblocks of various sizes arranged around him in a wide circle. When did she bring them here? How did she –
“Do you remember the Dance of the Sparks?” inquired Professor Aionia.
“Um, yes,” Elwin replied, fishing the memories of the dancephrase from the recesses of his thoughts. He did not possess a warm recollection of it for how much he was humiliated in Professor Helen’s class.
“Starting now, I will help you through the motions of the dance,” assured Professor Aionia, alighting a cylinder of metal in the center white-hot once again. “When you perform the Dance, I want you to use the energy of this cylinder and shunt it into the woodblocks. Got it?”
“Yes!”
Elwin lowered himself to the initial stance he remembered, Professor Aionia holding his arms.
“A little lower. Arm straight and unyielding, unbent and without flaw.”
And step by step, yard by yard, Professor Aionia danced the Dance of the Sparks with Elwin in her guided embrace, elegant and lithe, impressing the memories of the movements to Elwin in a way that Professor Helen never could. One by one the woodblocks came alight; his Quan exclaimed in delight as the final woodblock, twice the size of him, was split open in a blast of sparks, and tumbled away. Elwin could not believe how the same dance could look and feel so different from how he remembered. Gone were the abrupt staccatos of force that made him fall; no more were the punches and kicks that hurt his joints and made them red. Perhaps it was because Elwin had learned to hone his physique and balance for the better part of fall and winter, but there was also an unexplainable quality to the way Professor Aionia danced that Elwin was made to feel he was no longer out of his element. The dancephrase was the exact same as what Professor Helen had demonstrated, and contained the same movements and steps, but Professor Aionia in her dance appeared more fluent and refined, privy to some deeper truth that even the Master of Fire had not yet grasped.
“And thus SUNNA makes her renown,” said Professor Aionia, concluding the tenth round of the dancephrase with Elwin in her arms. The metal cylinder in the center was red-hot no more.
“I expect you to go through these motions each day from now on, even if exhaustion grips you from our daily training.”
“Yes, professor.”
“And Elwin, always remember – your Kaha can be improved. The world may have put you behind the others in the starting line, but if you try, you can surely overtake them.”
Elwin’s mental exhaustion was banished in an instant. The possibility that he could not only reach, but exceed the abilities of his classmates, ignited in him an unquenchable flame. He possessed now the key to his future, a singular road to proof of greatness. He will prove himself – and climb to the very top – he will win the Franen tournament for all to see, become the Consul of whichever House he chose, and reforge those Epitomic Forms of old. Yes, he would do that. He would do all of that for glory.
Elwin doubled down his efforts. He ate more, thought more, immersed himself every waking hour in seeing and tugging the weaves of ORI. He floated a fist-sized stone mid-air while he walked, bathed, and even while he slept; even during his classes when the semester began anew, attracting the puzzled glances of other Artens. He went through the motions of the Dance of the Sparks by that Oracle before dawn, and after sundown, after even the grueling training of his Kaha with his Tanaar, all the while imagining himself as a person with their Kaha as a dragon, someone who could move the energy of the world as naturally as they breathed.
But in his search and striving for power, the kindness and empathy he felt for the world was steadily robbed from him; it was all about him now.
With that all, the clock struck the hour of Surayasna 41st, 109 days since he first started his grand endeavor. It was the day of the mid-year exams.
* * *
Professor Helen stood waiting for Elwin’s demonstration, as were the Fradihta seated upon the benches of the theatron. It was a frosty afternoon.
From away, Lucian folded his arms, expecting nothing but a disastrous failure. His friends looked on with cold disdain, and the others watched in silence, surmising that this was the day that the fraudster would draw his last straw.
Elwin stepped forward and closed his eyes.
Instantly, the world splashed to life in his meditative Asha as a painting of gold among black, the woodblocks in front of him glimmering faint, the air around them too cold from which to draw strength. But the Sun and the winds were overhead, and from them radiated a limitless source of energy for his Kaha to reshape, which was all he needed now. He tilted his head to the sky and laughed not once but thrice, drawing the puzzled look from many, who thought he was laughing in dejection.
Little did they know that they couldn’t have been further from the truth.
With the motions familiar to him and his practice, and by mustering his memory of pushing himself, summiting that arduous hill, vomiting in exhaustion at freezing, unfreezing, freezing the world again, from the elegant instruction of his Tanaar to the thousand repetitions of the dancephrase by himself, Elwin linked his Asha to the Sun, the winds, the trees, the ground beneath his feet in hundreds of threads; and with the utmost courage he pulled all of them taut, his Kaha becoming alive with their energies like a brilliant star. Rallied them all to his Quan he did, and with a flourish and an elegance taken from Professor Aionia herself, he weaved, strode, punched, and kicked in an exemplar of the Dance, wreathing in flame seven woodblocks in the blink of an eye. And with a finality of movement, of utmost confidence, he pushed all his energy into the final and largest woodblock of all in a kick like starfall, lighting it aflame with crimson, blasting it apart in an explosion which his peers could only hope to match.
Elwin, the boy who could not alight the smallest woodblock when he first arrived, had risen above everyone else, perhaps even Katherine Heriz.
Professor Helen quietly mused, nodding her head.
None of his classmates could speak nor move;
Lucian, eyes wide open, clenched his teeth until they rattled in their frame.