“Symmetry.”
The word echoed through the walls of the Tiger sanctum as it left XJ-V’s mouth.
He received nothing but silence in return. Then, an almost imperceptible upturn of the old Master’s lip.
“Expand,” he said.
“Prophet Genli-Roth talks of the symmetry of the tiger,” XJ-V continued, putting together the final pieces in his mind to construct the words he needed to express his idea – the slippery notion that so far had only confused him but which, when he saw the eyes of Fai-Deng as he burned, became suddenly all so clear. “He writes of not only the perfect alignment of the stripes on its face, but of the symmetry of its spirit. The Tiger is a beast born of duality – of beauty and violence, thesis and antithesis, which come together in a unified whole. This vital symmetry makes a warrior that can survive in the desert wastes.”
Yoma-Dur looked down at the Cog, his face a blank stone utterly unchanging. But his voice seemed to XJ-V the voice of an entirely different person, now.
“Thesis, antithesis, and synthesis,” he said.
XJ-V nodded. “According to the Prophet, a warrior needs antithesis. Without a shadow to contend with, he cannot walk in the light.”
Yoma-Dur cast his eyes over the bemused Fai-Deng who was watching this entire conversation with eyes like a wild beast, ready to fly at the Cog at any second. Yet, as the robot made his statement, the Master of the Tiger Sect saw something flare up in the young boy’s eyes. It was something only the eyes of a Sect Master could see.
Interesting.
He turned his attention back to the Cog and chuckled drily.
“You need not quote the words of our Prophet to me, man of stone,” he said. “I was there when he penned them.”
XJ-V nodded low, showing the proper respect.
“And yet,” the Master continued. “You speak them not out of ignorance, but out of compassion. You have indeed demonstrated the symmetry of the tiger today.”
He chuckled again, seemingly overcome by the ludicrous nature of the situation.
“A Dragon of stone and steel that wears the skin of a Tiger,” he said through laughter. “You mean of tell me, of course, that Fai-Deng is your antithesis.”
“As I am his,” XJ-V agreed. “I believe Fai-Deng hates me because he sees himself within me. I believe we both have power locked within us that only the other can coax. I struggled to learn even the most basic of my Sect’s Earth Grade techniques until Fai-Deng attacked myself and Feng-Lung. As I understand it, Fai-Deng has also devoted himself to his own training whilst I have been here, redoubling his efforts to perfect your Sect’s Lightning Claw strike. This he has done so that he may strike back at me.”
Yoma-Dur breathed deeply as he considered the Cog’s words.
“You mean to tell me that you can learn from each other,” he said.
XJ-V bristled as he pushed further than he knew he should: “I mean to tell you that we must learn from each other, Master.”
The old Sect Master once again let silence overtake the room and for a while all XJ-V could hear were the slow, methodical, uninterrupted flares of his nostrils.
“Disciple XJ-V,” he finally said. “You are indeed an impertinent Cog.”
He strode over to Fai-Deng’s practically shaking body, and the latter kissed the floor of the Sect hall again.
“Well, dog?” he asked. “What do you think? Do you wish to remain in this place of learning and enlightenment, or do you wish to drag your paws upon the Wastes like a doomed Planeswalker?”
Out of the corner of his eye, XJ-V saw Fai-Deng’s teeth shred his lips apart. The boy was conflicted. He was torn between hate and love – hate for his enemy and love for his Sect.
Now, the choice is yours, Fai-Deng, XJ-V thought. I made mine. What shall yours be?
“Well?” Yoma-Dur asked again. “The pup does not make the father of his pride wait.”
Stolen story; please report.
“…Yes, Master.”
The words left the boy’s lips like an inadvertent spasm. He stared up at his Master as if he didn’t even know if the words he said were his at all.
“Then you will learn of humility this day,” Yoma-Dur told him. “For I am not one vain enough to turn away a promising young Cultivator now that he has acquired the perfect training partner who vouches for him.”
Fai-Deng’s eyes flared up like those of a wounded, cornered beast. Those eyes flew to XJ-V and found that the Cog was looking right back at them.
“You will spar with XJ-V from now on,” his Master told him. “Under the strict supervision of our Core Regulators. Both of you shall mould the body of the other. Steel and flesh. Tiger and Dragon – as it has been since the beginning of time itself. In time, I am confident you shall become Corporeal Temperers worthy of this place.”
XJ-V bowed low at the Master’s thinly veiled praise, while Fai-Deng simply sat, his broken arm quivering with phantom fury.
“Do you accept these terms?” the Master asked both men.
“I do,” came XJ-V’s answer.
Yoma-Dur nodded nonchalantly, and then cast his predatory eyes over Fai-Deng’s incredulous features.
Their eyes met. Time seemed at a standstill.
Then: a ghostly whisper hovered out the boy’s lips.
“…I do.”
“Hm?” Yoma-Dur asked, his voice booming, reverberating off the four walls of the Sanctum. “Speak with the conviction of your soul, pup!”
“I do!”
The Master turned from them both then, saying not another word until he settled into the straight backed, clenched-knuckle meditation pose of the Tiger Sect and closed his eyes to them both.
“Good. You may rise, Disciples. Leave this place as one.”
Both men bowed low, XJ-V feeling now nothing but numbness from the Disciple beside him, and becoming overcome with exhaustion himself – facing the tiger in his own lair had been more mentally taxing than any time he had attempted the Dao-Walk. But when the rose, they did so together. And when they left, they each opened one half of the great iron doors.
“Fai-Deng,” came Yoma-Dur’s voice before they left.
The Disciple let the Cog pass first and leaned back to hear his Master’s final words. They were words delivered with the cold intensity of a trained killer:
“Never embarrass my Sect again.”
…
Outside, the heavens opened with a crack of thunder, and their tears fell upon Ramor-Tai once again. XJ-V felt each splash on his shoulders keenly, but more than anything he felt a degree of satisfaction which he had not felt since first he heard Master Longhua would take him in.
He then shook his head pensively. Perhaps satisfaction was the wrong word. Perhaps there was another he needed.
“You did not say much during that meeting, Arha,” he said.
The little fox spirit curled up round his forehead, her fluffy tail falling down to tickly his steel nose.
“I’m not the insane one here!” she shrieked. “That old man looked like he ate foxes for breakfast!”
“Well, he is Master of the Tiger Sect,” XJ-V replied. “Perhaps there is some truth to that.”
Hearing the quickened splashes of the Disciple running behind him, XJ-V put that particular thought aside for a moment and turned, seeing Fai-Deng panting before him.
For a moment the two Disciples merely stood and watched the other.
Those of the Tiger Sect that saw them would say this later: they were not unlike two animals so tired from fighting that they simply waited to see who would make the next move.
As it turned out, it was XJ-V who turned away first.
“…why.”
The Cog did not feel that this was a question Fai posed to his back. It was more like a statement he was mulling over in his own mind.
But, when that word came again, XJ-V turned back to the Disciple.
“Why?” was all he said. “Why did – why did you do that?”
XJ-V must have been in a reflective mood, because he was reminded yet again of when Master Longhua had asked him that very same question on the cold morning when he had saved the butterfly from the spider.
Arha shuffled under his chin to whisper in his ear: “Arha would also like to know this thing!” she said.
“You mean to mock me, is that it?” the Disciple said with quiet rage. “You mean to parade me in front of your friends and show them what you have done to me?”
“All you have done, Fai-Deng, you have done to yourself.”
The youth started forwards, hair sodden and sticky with rainwater.
“I should kill you where you stand.”
“You would lose yourself in return.”
Fai stopped before he considered throwing a punch, perhaps remembering his Master’s warning. Perhaps hearing the ring of truth in the Cog’s words.
“You think I lied to your Master?” XJ-V asked him. “You think he would not be able to sense my deception? Like you say, I am but a thing of steel and function. I do not have the power to manipulate a Master of Ramor-Tai.”
“Maybe so,” Fai whispered begrudgingly. “But – why then?”
“Because we are two halves of Ramor-Tai’s spirit,” XJ-V said. “A Tiger and a Dragon. It is as I told Master Yoma-Dur: we both harbor hate within us. It has kept us alive, but it is not what will sustain us. Hate cannot sustain a thing. Together we can be more than we are.”
Fai-Deng looked away with an indignant scoff.
“…I will not disobey my Master,” he said through gritted teeth. “But I will not call you a Dragon.”
When the boy looked back to see the Cog, it was his outstretched hand that hovered before him.
“How about ‘Brother’?” XJ-V asked.
Fai-Deng looked down at the Cog’s steel-plated fingers, sucked up the ire rising in his gut, and simply walked away back to the Tiger commune.
“Friday morning, machine,” he said. “We shall meet in the Hall of Symmachus and begin our training. Do not make me wait.”
XJ-V watched the boy go, swinging his dead arm limply at his side.
“Meanie!” Arha spat as he went, conveniently after he was well out of earshot. “Not even a thank you!”
But when she looked back at XJ-V, she saw he was smiling.
“Well, Arha,” he said. “When it comes to humans, we can’t ask for the impossible.”
###
If you are enjoying Cog Cultivator, consider supporting on Patreon to read advanced chapters.