Now before me, came a test of sorts.
Fen Vaigorus, the Weaponmaster, and my new teacher, placed her small white china cup down on the rough-hewn wooden table. The delicate cup, with its intricate patterns and fine craftsmanship, seemed an oddity amidst the almost austere surroundings of her home. It was an exquisite thing, the kind that only a true master or the marvels of modern technology could produce.
Getting up, she then placed a rather large nut, about the size of a small coconut into an earthenware judge before filling it with water. For a moment, I thought she was about to engage in a bout of cooking.
She gave me an appraising look. “Come with me,” she commanded, leaving her humble abode with the filled jug.
At a loss, I followed her. I had quickly learned that failing to do as instructed would result in the subtle application of pain later. With a bitter grin, I realized I was being trained like a dog.
Fen placed the ochre jug on a small boulder and turned to me. “You will learn how to attack that which is beneath,” she began in an even tone. “Like this…”
With lightning’s swiftness, she launched a palm strike at the jug. I braced for an explosion of pottery fragments, but instead, there was just a dull thud. Bemused, and thinking she was pulling my leg, I went over to inspect the pot.
Inside, I found the contents of the alien nut exploded into small floating chunks. What trick or magic spell was this?
“It is not of Mana if you are wondering,” she explained. “It uses purely that of the body and not the mind and soul.”
Goodness gracious, could explanations get any more oblique?
“How then?” I asked, a shade of irritation entering my voice.
“You must learn to use an energy from within. Find your center and cut all things away. Focus on one thing only, yet at the same time, think of nothing. To become one with the void. It is a hard thing to explain. In other lands, they called this energy Kai. It is the one thing that I can not teach you, but a thing that you must find,” she explained.
Fen paused for a moment, her eyes growing distant as if lost in a memory. “But even if you cannot do this, I will teach you the rest of what I know, though much of it may be beyond your grasp,” she said with a sigh. “It takes an ordinary person many years of focus solely on this path to find, but even here, we do not have that luxury of time. It is my hope that you are not just an ordinary person.”
Was the woman trying to goad me to greater efforts? Could she not see that I was trying my best?
Sometimes your best is not good enough, a quiet voice whispered. Not the voices, but simply the negative part of me that lurked in the dark recesses.
Still, I had to try.
Fen taught me to meditate, telling me to apply the breathing techniques I had learned earlier. That was easy enough, but to clear my mind was perhaps too high of a hurdle to set. For a man of my generation, erroneous thoughts came suddenly and often. Such a simple idea, the Zen notion of thinking of nothing, but in practice difficult to the extreme.
And so we stayed like that, doing nothing, just sitting cross-legged by the gurgling stream. Trying to think of nothing. It was an impossibility as too many things intruded into my mind and I was far from finding my center of whatever it was that she called it.
“That is enough, one’s focus can only be used so much before it grows dull,” she said, slowly opening her eyes and getting up.
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Brushing herself off, she gave me a small smile. “I will show you the physical aspect of what must be done.”
“That way at least, even if you fail to learn it here you may have a chance to learn it out there one day,” she declared.
Somewhat taken aback, I gave a flat response, “It is like you are planning for failure?”
Fen chuckled at this. “Perhaps you are right. But from what I have seen so far I have learned to temper my hopes with realistic caution,” my teacher replied.
So much for a motivational speech, I grumbled internally.
*****
This was perhaps the hundredth, or thousandth, jug I had broken. Again and again, I had failed to destroy the nut suspended in water inside the jug without destroying the earthenware shell.
It was frustrating to the extreme.
The middle-aged woman would just throw some random advice, telling me to apply the ‘soft touch’ or to ‘limit myself,’ or some other random blather. So opaque was her help that it was more of a hindrance.
How could one be expected to break the nut without breaking the pottery outside? The whole thing did not make any sense and was stupid in the extreme. It was infuriating.
Just as my patience was reaching its limit, the woman raised a hand, signaling me to stop. “There is nothing more that you can do here. I will just hope that you will be able to master it outside in the waking world,” she said, admitting defeat with a tired sigh.
Finally, I thought to myself, what a useless technique anyway.
She returned to her house. After a short while, she returned, bringing with her two wooden staves of even length. Tossing one staff to me she told me to take up a stance of my choosing.
“What… where am I to start?” I asked incredulously.
“These are but an extension of your body. Try not to differentiate what I teach now from what you have already learned. The principals are ultimately the same… if you try to keep them separate as concepts within your mind, you will ultimately suffer in the long term,” she explained in an insufferably aloof voice.
Great, whole dollops of mysticism with only a dash of vague explanation.
*****
And in that manner, she trained me. More often than not, her teachings came in a language I understood all too well. Kind words and thoughtful insights were replaced by painful counterattacks and punishments that spurred me to greater aggression. Fen probably understood that her words would no longer reach me. There was not an ounce of consideration or kindness in her demeanor, and beneath it all, I sensed a desperate urgency.
Fen would disappear into her house to collect whatever new configuration that we would spar in and we would begin.
With staff, sword, and spear, she taught me.
With hammer, halberd, and blade, she taught me.
With one weapon or two, shields and no shields, she taught me.
With spear against shield, two weapons against one, hammer against fist and feet, in endless combination she taught me
Armored in a heavy plate harness or wearing nothing more than my underclothes, she taught me.
And, she taught me how to use my other hand, through raw practice and endless bloody repetition, until I could use both hands almost equally as well.
At first, she had been untouchable. Even when she was in a relaxed and open stance, I could see no opening to exploit. But like the sea working its way against a stubborn cliff, I was slowly making progress. Now and again, I could see that she had become a bit slower in her response, here and there I would score a rare light touch.
I was finally beginning to get some grim satisfaction from the whole endeavor.
But even in this place where time flowed unnaturally slowly, it still did flow. A part of me sensed that my time here was drawing to a close, and Fen, it seemed, could sense it too.
“I do not know what culture has bred you to be thus, but your focus is sorely lacking. You have an anger about you that clouds your judgment. It dulls your strikes and softens your defense. But, you have learned much, not as much as I wished to learn, but a lot nonetheless. It will have to be enough,” she stated, delivering her backhand compliment as if they were words of the wise.
“What is there left for you to teach?” I asked snidely.
“A lifetime of wisdom,” she replied blithely with a weak smile. “But, we do not have the time for that. Take a moment’s rest, meditate, and think on all that you have learned. For next will be your final test before your journey back to the waking world.”
“Great… at long bloody last,” I replied back with no small amount of bitterness, relaxing my shoulders as I sought the comfort of the gurgling stream and soft green grass.