Mahon dodged the sword aiming at his neck and counter-attacked in a fast movement. He stabbed left but twisted his wrist at the last moment to change the pathing of his sword. His opponent was not surprised, however, and he blocked the attack with his own sword.
His parry was within Mahon’s expectations and he moved a step forward, beyond the First Green. Without looking, he squatted down and swiped behind him where he knew with perfect certainty the unprotected knee of his opponent was. But the move felt slightly distorted and his sword hit nothing. The next instant, Mahon was ejected from the Flow and stood motionless, at the mercy of his opponent. However, he did not fight alone and Zac’s sword found his opponent’s chest at the perfect time to save his ass and the fight ended.
They had won their ten fights of the day, but Mahon was disappointed. He had felt it twice today. It had not been a once a time fluke. It was real. The stronger he was physically, the easier it was to enter the Flow. Now that he was able to do anything he wanted, his mind had to work faster to follow his moves and thus he was often at the limit of entering the Flow.
It was the right thing to do and Mahon was used to it, so when he felt Its call he pushed through and entered the Flow. But the Flow betrayed him. It only allowed a perfect control and the single mishap was enough to be tossed out of it. And for a reason unknown to Mahon, when he entered the Flow, he kept thinking as if he was in Nightmare and he couldn’t perform as he thought.
He sighed loudly and joined Zac. Together, they walked to the canteen and grabbed a well-earned lunch. His frustration was too obvious for Zac not to see it.
“What is it?”
“It’s that thing with the Flow and Nightmare.”
“Again?”
“Yes… I don’t know where it comes from. It has never happened before.”
Zac nodded as he pricked a piece of chicken with his fork and put it in his mouth. Since they were First White, they could enjoy a bit more diversity in their meal and they often choose between two or three different menus.
“Could you try to describe what is happening exactly?”
“Hmm… When you enter the Flow, you’re in some kind of extreme mode. Everything belongs to its place. It’s like… It’s like everything besides you is playing an instrument.” Mahon finally said, trying to illustrate to his friend with something he was familiar with.
“And you’re the conductor?”
“No, not really. You’re another instrument. But you know the song of everyone else. So if you find the common tempo and make it yours, you’re the master of the whole melody.”
Zac threw him a baffling look and Mahon knew he had to change his explanation.
“Ok, ok. Let’s say that opponent number one plays along a four beat tempo. And opponent number two, a six beat tempo. If you decompose the two songs from a two beat tempo perspective, then you know everything that will happen in the next steps. Two beats become your unit and you know opponent one moves every two units and opponent two every three units. So by playing your own song every unit, you’re below their tempo. They can’t harm you.”
“Ah, well... Let’s say I somehow understand that... and then?”
“For me, the Flow is finding this unit that rules all the tempo around me. Once I’ve found it I enter the Flow and It lets me see with even clearer details my opponents’ songs. I can see their partitions. I can predict their moves. I don’t need to see them. I know what they will sing. I’m everywhere. But I need to keep count of the basic tempo, my unit. Otherwise, everything is screwed up. It’s like you’re trying to draw something given some scale and then the next moment you change your scaling and continue drawing. It makes no sense.”
“Yeah...”
“When I enter the Flow, usually everything fits so well together that unless I decide to drop it, I can’t unsee my unit. But now, every time I enter it, it gets… somehow… mixed up with Nightmare and at some random point my unit suddenly changes and I’m thrown away from the Flow.”
“I see...”
“Really? Perfect! So what do you think? It’s so frustrating, I’ve finally reached a body strong enough to do what I want, but now I can’t even control the Flow. You’re the expert on Ratho, so what should I do?”
Zac slowly chewed his vegetables as he threw Mahon a puzzled glance.
“I have no idea.”
“Wait, what?! But I…”
“No, no, listen. It’s way too high level for me. I don’t think I even got ten percent of your explanation, and I’m sure you oversimplified a lot. There is no way I can help you with that.”
“...”
“But! I think you’re overthinking everything. As you said, you just got your body back, sort of. And now you’re frustrated and it doesn’t help you concentrate, thus building even more frustration and so on. I know the feeling.”
“So what should I do?”
“Just rest. Take it easy. These past days you’re like mounted on springs. You run everywhere, you fight everyone. I swear you almost ran fifteen laps at the end of Slander training. No one had done that before! Chill a bit. It’s not gonna disappear. Flow seems heavily related to your own peace of mind, and you’re nowhere peaceful now.”
“Hmm… You might be right…”
“Of course I am! Listen to your friend on this one, Mahon. Go do something fun. Something you like. Something that might relax you. Like, find yourself a girl or something...”
“You’re right! I know exactly what to look for!”
"Really? You already had someone in mind?” Zac asked, surprised that his friend was even interested in something else than training.
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“What? No! I’m gonna watch lance training!”
Zac took his head in his hands and exhaled a desperate sigh.
“Yeah, sure… Go do that… But don’t bring trouble to yourself!”
“Shut up, I’m not that dumb!”
Zac threw him a look that said the exact opposite.
----------------------------------------
After lunch and Yordar’s session, Mahon checked the planning and found out about the lance training schedule. It was during his own running specialized lesson, but he didn’t need it as much as he used to and so he decided to skip it. He had sworn to himself not to touch a spear before he was back to his former strength, as he didn’t want to be disappointed by his own performance. It was his weapon of choice in Nightmare, and his relation with the lance was engraved deep in his heart. But looking at some lance training might cheer him up to reach his goal.
He headed directly to the lance training fields, he was a bit in advance, but he wanted to select a good spot to watch the training. As he approached the field, he realized it was still empty and went closer to find a seat. He passed some practice dummies with painted areas to show where to aim and arrived in front of a short arena.
It was a simple one, a small circle area of no more than ten meters with no wall around. It was full of sand and half of it was surrounded by stands. It was probably there that the students sparred or were taught stances and moves. The arena was not empty, however, and a woman in brown training clothes was practicing at a fast pace.
Mahon stopped and watched her training. She looked young, no more than a hundred years old, and yet she was linking impressive movements one after the other. Her long black hair was tied into a braid and it was jumping around every time she stabbed her imaginary opponents with energy. Her posture was good and her muscles tightly drawn. Sweats dropped from her pretty face as she moved in a mesmerizing mix of beauty and strength.
In a glance Mahon knew what she was practicing and so he watched with even more concentration.
It’s the seventh Step. Going to the eight right now…
The woman was training in the 12 Steps of the Lance as taught by the Fada, Mahon’s favorite practice in Nightmare, and one he did every time he went there. The lance seamlessly rotated around her hips as she caught it back in her main hand and stabbed with an increased momentum. She smoothly stepped forwards three times before she executed a front flip, lance in hand and pivoted just as she landed, stabbing what had been her back just a moment ago.
Mahon raised his eyebrow at the move.
Unconventional and flashy. Well executed though.
Under Mahon’s scrutinizing eyes the woman started the ninth Step of the Lance.
The roll…? Good! Now onto the punch... perfect... Quick, the change and… what is that?!
The woman missed her switch of hand during the spin of her lance and it slipped out of her fingers before falling into the sand with a muffled thud. She cussed before she let herself fall to the ground near her lance in a sitting position. She wiped off the sweat on her forehead before she stopped and watched in Mahon’s direction with a surprised look.
Uh? Hadn’t she seen me before? Was she too focused?
She grabbed her lance and hurriedly stood up as if she had been caught doing something reprehensible. An awkward silence followed, as none of them knew what to say. Eventually, Mahon thought back to Zac’s advice about relationships and the importance of being oneself. So he acted like he would normally do in such a situation.
He approached the woman with confidence and stopped at the border of the arena. He then gestured to the lance as he spoke.
“Good sequence, but you’re being a bit too flashy. It’s not fitting the Steps of the Lance. You should aim for efficiency first. When you do that spin, you can already move your hand like that in the same motion.”
Mahon mimicked the switch in slow motion with an imaginary lance and showed her the proper move. At first the woman was too stunned to react, but as Mahon went deeper into his explanation, she listened with rapt attention.
“Start again from the end of the eighth Step and as you transition to the ninth, pay close attention to your right hand. And please, drop the flip, it has more chance to get you killed than to serve you in that case. If you really like the flip you can add one later on in the eleventh Step, I think…” Mahon mused as he gestured for her to go on with her training.
She frowned at his order but, intrigued, she did as she was told and started again from the end of the eighth Step. She moved forwards three steps, jumped and as she landed she rapidly turned around and stabbed.
“See? Same results with half the effort. Stay efficient.” Mahon commented.
She then rolled forwards, punched and stood up while spinning her lance. Her right hand was in position, but she had messed up her footsteps as she had been too focused on the spin. She did manage to grab the lance, but she was misplaced for the next move and stopped the sequence. To the side, Mahon nodded approvingly.
“Good, you sensed it. A few more tries and you’ll get it.”
The woman flashed a happy grin and went back into position. Three steps, turn, stab. Roll, punch, spin. She repeated the sequence a few more times before she succeeded, although it was not yet flawless. She did it one more time before she let go of her lance and smiled, pleased.
“Thanks! It has been months since I struggled with the Step. I couldn’t have even imagined it was so subtle! Thanks again for your insight.”
“It’s nothing. You’re actually pretty skillful for someone who started the Steps months ago. Continue like that!”
The woman threw a surprised look at Mahon.
“No, it has been years since I had started to practice the Steps of the Lance. I’ve been stuck for months on this single spin.”
It was Mahon’s turn to be surprised. But he soon understood the reason.
“Uh, I see! It’s hard to find a good professor without the school, so I guess it may have taken longer to train. It’s strange the Lance professor didn’t help you with the move, though. Maybe he wanted you to learn it by yourself.” Mahon mused aloud. “I might have ruined his efforts then, sorry.”
“...”
Mahon put on his best apologetic smile as he tried to mimic how Zac would have reacted in this situation. He had barely met another student who practiced the lance and he had already almost insulted her. She seemed to think about something else, however, and asked back.
“Who are you again?”
“Uh, yes, sorry! I’m just a First White student. I’m here to see a bit of lance training because it might help me with another thing.”
“First White? I see... You wanna spar?”
“No, sorry. I’m not in a good shape right now and I don’t want to hold a lance before that.”
This time the woman looked honestly puzzled and Mahon knew he had fucked up.
Is it really so hard to interact with people?
He now realized how much he had to thank Zac for having met him first, otherwise he would have a lot more trouble to blend in at school. Mahon was ready to apologize again when a group of students approached the training field.
“Hello, professor! Do we need to move out the training dummies again?” One of them asked.
“Oh, do we have another student today as well?” Another said as he noticed Mahon standing near their professor.
Uh, shit. Shit, shit, shit!
The woman with whom Mahon had spoken hesitated for a second before she turned to her students.
“Yes, please, we’ll use them again today. As for this one I’ve no id…” She turned back to Mahon but he was already a dozen meters from her, running away at full speed.