Truthfully, Tantra doesn’t really care for duels.
I know, shocking.
But just because her personal preference is more inclined to intellectual pursuits doesn’t mean she really has a choice. They’re in a sect, they are cultivators, duels are practically a requirement. Her opponent has a smug look as though the outcome were already decided, and in a sense she’s not even wrong. Tantra is by far the weakest and the most inept at combat, despite Karaz and Kisrins teachings, that’s probably what allowed her to coast so far without being challenged. Fighting her would do no favors to the challenger's reputation.
“Are you ready, worm?” The girl asks while hopping on the balls of her feet.
Tantra sighs, “I am ready, honourable Erta.”
Erta smiles something wild and vicious as she explodes into motion, closing the distance between them in perhaps two seconds. Tantra barely has the time to duck under a kick to the head. She brings her fists up and sends a jab to Etra’s solar plexus, which she unfortunately blocks, responding with a knee to Tantra’s stomach. Tantra has to put in a not insignificant amount of effort to not double over, pulling herself back and blocking the uppercut that follows. Etra pulls her leg back and twists, and Tantra has a split second to decide where the kick will go.
She chooses to check and is vindicated when Etra’s leg hits hers. Tantra goes for another jab, which, to her surprise, actually hits. Right on Etra’s nose, disorienting her for just a moment. It takes too long for Tantra to realize that she needs to follow up with a cross before Etra kicks her right in the chest, jumping to switch legs and delivering a roundhouse kick straight to her head. Tantra collapses to the floor, holding her head with both hands.
Etra scoffs, “come on, get up. I’ve barely even started.”
Tantra wants to stay down, she really does. But respect and honour are the currencies of a cultivator, and to give up when you can still fight is a stain to both. It’s an image problem, if the masters find that she doesn’t have the heart of a cultivator, they could easily throw her out. While leaving the sect is her ultimate goal, she needs to be strong enough to get home safe beforehand. She has no money to hail a carriage nor to buy food and drink, courtesy of her fathers amazing foresight, meaning she has to walk and scavenge, dramatically increasing her risk of meeting a spirit beast.
So Tantra shakily gets back up and assumes her stance.
“Ready?” Etra asks.
Tantra nods.
Etra dashes as she did before but this time she drives a fist into Tantra’s stomach before sending a hook to her head, Tantra manages to block before she steps into the girls guard and hits her with an elbow to the temple.
This time Tantra doesn’t miss her chance and sends a heavy uppercut to the chin. Etra stumbles but doesn't fall, Tantra rushes towards her and-
She falls to the ground as Etra sweeps her leg under hers. Then she’s on top of Tantra, raining blows to her face and stomach, Tantra can only protect one, so she chooses her face. She doesn’t know how to grapple, it’s not really something that’s taught, at least not by her current tutors. So all she can do is block and hope for the best. Etra eventually stops her flurry, once Tantra is nice and bruised.
She smiles as she watches Tantra stagger to her feet.
“Same time next week, little worm.”
-
“Rice is the king of all!” Yorin proclaims, “Nothing in the world of foods can match it. How many curries can you make with rice? So many! All of them delicious, it is the spine of a meal, the bulwark of taste, and the sword of spice.”
Kisrin nods along as though he has bestowed upon them some great knowledge.
Tantra scoffs, “No disciple Yorin, rice is simple and bland. The true ruler is noodles, with its savoury aftertaste and sublime texture.”
“I do not know what those words mean, so you are therefore incorrect” Yorin nods to himself.
Kisrin chuckles at Tantra’s glare.
“Perhaps we should increase your studies then?” Tantra threatens, “So that I may infuse some culture into that head of yours.”
Yorin pales, “please don’t, honourable tutor, I am already dying of boredom from my current tasks.”
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Tantra puts on a smug smile, “admit that noodles are better than rice and perhaps I will grace you with my mercy.”
Kisrin turns to Tantra looking scandalized at her underhanded tactics.
“Don’t you start, boy. That threat extends to you as well.” She points at him.
Kisrin scrunches his brow, “Honourable Tantra, I’m only a year younger than you.”
Tantra and Yorin look shocked at the boy, “Really?” Yorin asks.
“Yes?”
Tantra puts a hand on his shoulder, “my condolences honourable disciple Kisrin. Perhaps the gods will grant you mercy in other matters.”
Kisrin scrunches his brow, “I feel as though I should be insulted.”
-
“Tantan!” Ranya whines, “the new disciples are being mean to Ranya!”
Tantra looks up from her book at the girl who has invaded her privacy, “Forgiveness senior Ranya, but why should I care?”
Ranya pouts, “because they’re from your group, and it would be bullying if Ranya beat them senseless. At least until they’ve finished their foundations.”
Tantra blinks at Ranya, “You’ve completed your foundations?”
“No,” Ranya shrugs, “but being daemon possessed has its upsides. Like being super strong!”
Tantra sighs and closes her book, “right, the daemon, is that what this is about?”
Ranya nods “They called Ranya the ‘daemon queen’ and ‘eyes of the endless’!”
“Aren’t those complements?”
“They are not!”
-
Tantra is having a day.
Six disciples kowtow in front of her, not to her, no, that would just be confusing. Instead their obeisance is directed towards one ‘Ranya of the void’, apparently.
“A thousand apologies if we have done something to offend the great ‘daemon tamer’”
“Ranya does not tame daemons! She just has one stuck to her soul.”
“Without going on a rampage.” another points out, “that alone is worthy of our admiration and dedication, oh dark one.”
Ranya stomps her foot to the ground like a petulant child. “Tantan! Beat them up.”
“There are six of them.” Tantra says blandly.
“It matters not!” One of the disciples rises from her kowtow to face Tantra, a determined look in her eye, “we will gladly subject ourselves to any punishment the ‘flames of the seven hells’ deems appropriate”
Tantra groans, “daemons don’t come from the hells, that’s demons.”
The girl looks at her skeptically, “what's the difference.”
Tantra rubs at her brow in annoyance, “One is the manifestation of suffering while the other-no, you know what? Research it yourselves.”
“But we don’t know how to read,” one of them whines.
“That’s not my problem.”
“Tantan! Come back, you still have to beat them up!”
-
Jorin Karr is not a kind man, nor a very smart one, but he doesn’t care much. The children don’t need him to be smart nor kind, and neither does the sect. They need him to be strong, to serve as an example and protection when required.
He brings up a hammer and slams it down on his hand.
He needs to be strong, it is not a question, or a suggestion, it is reality. The world isn’t so kind as to leave weaklings to their piece, so there has to be the strong. Many have different views on what it means to cultivate. Jorin isn’t one to wax philosophical, he prefers simple explanations. To cultivate is to gain the strength to do as you please, everything else is just personal sentiment.
He brings up the hammer and slams it down on his hand.
Hmmm, it’s not breaking. That’s both good and bad. Jorin doesn’t want to deal with finding a better hammer, this one is forged from a steel-drake scale mixture, designed specifically for this purpose. It was expensive, and he had to dip into the meager coffers of the sect to afford it.
Coffers which are now bursting at the seams.
No, he cannot. The Elders have found their windfall and he won’t take that from them. His personal distaste for how those funds were acquired notwithstanding.
-
Tantra walks into her home after another session of brutal (mildly intense) training, finding Karaz staring down a pot of dirt as though it owed her a significant sum of coin.
Tantra hesitates to ask, but curiosity killed the cat as they say, “honoured senior, what are you doing?”
Karaz doesn’t even bother to look at her, staring intently at the pot.
“I’m growing a MoonBlossom rose Tantra, what does it look like?” she bites back.
Tantra scrunches her brow, “By staring at it senior?”
“It’s encouragement”
“You are…encouraging the flower to grow,” Tantra says slowly, “forgive this junior, and I say this with the utmost sincerity and respect, but that is not possible.”
Just as she finishes her sentence a small bud peeks out of the dirt in the pot. Tantra stares, flabbergasted.
Karaz smirks, “do not question my knowledge so early into your own journey, little junior. As repayment, you will help me grow this flower!”
-
Ranya skips into her home after the day's fun is over. She makes her way to the living area to find Karaz and Tantra staring down a pot of dirt in utter silence. Ranya glances at the both of them, then grabs a seat and joins in.
-
Another day of hunting and Sola makes her way back home. The lack of blood might fool a fool as to her activities, but a true cultivator can smell the death on a blade so recently delivered. She opens the door and enters the living area only to find all of her housemates staring sternly at the stem of an immature flower.
She groans.
Not another one.