Sachihiro
"Hey."
"Hey yourself."
Why aren’t I surprised he's back.
"Have you made any progress?" He asks floating over the gaping divide landing on the cleft easily to sit on the edge loungingly.
"With what?"
He shrugs, not looking at me directly. He’s clothing is odd, indistinct as I try to look at it, seemingly tailered for him. His toes curl grabbing the stone, pale feet bare but clean. His posture at ease more like a bird on a perch than a human at the point of a stalagmite.
I’m enjoying that I can see still but I can feel my vision fraying at the edges, it’s a strange sensation feeling your vision fade like this. Is it the potion or his buff that's fading?
"Could you buff me again?" I ask instead of everything else that’s on my mind. Having someone to talk to is something I’ve also missed, but I hope he is beneficial for more than just my social sanity.
"How long have you been down here?" he asks playing with a wringling fat worm he somehow pulled from the stone.
I have no idea, it’s been a while since my time and space orientation went. I shrug, "a while. Could be months, could be a couple of ten-days." I doubt it’s been a year yet but it’s been a goodly amount of time.
"How did you survive with no sight down here for months?"
I say nothing at that.
He cocks his head studying me. "I’m wondering whether it would be easier to just watch you for a few weeks or trying to get answers from you directly."
A week, I think that's a 7 day designation of time. I wonder where he's from originally.
"I’d appreciate the help," being able to see has been invaluable especially in my weakened state.
"It would be less fun helping you than watching."
"You like watching?"
He gives a cheshire grin in response. Mischievous this one his aura tells me before it’s gone again like I didn’t feel it at all.
I shrug, "watching me won’t get you much satisfaction I’m afraid. As you’ve likely notice since I’ve left your camp I've been standing here wondering how to cross the divide."
The gap is too far to jump, especially in my current condition, nor do I feel up to climbing down hoping there is a bottom at which I can then climb back up on the other side.
My bones feel heavy, really heavy. I’ve been practicing my yoga so I can get used to movement again, I’ve been practicing the forms, I’ve been practicing kyokugei. It’s been hard, really hard just to get here to the extent that the walking-stick I was given is cracked from the strain I put on it to get this far.
Every muscles in my body has atrophied, every tendon and sinue stiff. I’m building myself from stretch, a process that could take me months. I don’t have months, I need to keep going now and this guy seems my quickest way. Thankfully I’m not frail, on the contrary. It’s just that I’m weak, a temporary thing but this is not a place I’m comfortable being vulnerable in.
"How could I convince you to help me across?" Even more than my vision I need to keep moving.
He thinks about it, then shrugs, "tell me where you’re going."
"And you’ll help me across?"
"Yes," his eyes are playful but I believe him.
I don’t rightly know where I’m going though, I’m just following the directions in my head like the idiot I am.
"Are you a danger to me?"
He thinks, nods, "maybe. But not right now."
That’s a bit reassuring actually, he answered as honestly as he could even if it makes me more likely to distrust him. Unless it’s a double blind and I’m now supposed to assume his honesty even when he’s lying.
"What would make you a danger to me?" All things considered I’m wholly at this man’s mercy. I understand my position well enough to realise this, whatever they are looking for must be valuable also. Why didn’t that Castro Black bastard just kill me or neutralise me by keeping me by his side? Are they really looking for the same source of power I’m here for?
Are they my competition?
Yes, I think they are. Knowing that I’m their competition would make me a threat to them. Okay, so he will be a danger to me when he figures that out. I can’t let him know where I am going.
"I don’t know where I’m going."
He’s eyes are clever, he shrugs. "I guess I’ll watch you then," he disappears from sight.
*Breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
Meditation helps with my recovery more than just being a restful state. As I sit here I meditate on my chakra's, focusing on circulating my Chakra within each pool and around my whole body connecting Chakra points. The healing mudras are difficult to maintain for long, nor am I proficient enough for this to be a speedy process, but it’s effective.
Even as I fill my pools I empty them, like water from roots evaporating as soon as it reaches the leaves on a hot day. It’s a balance that needs my utmost attention, the effort straining yet reliving in a paradox of burning cold.
My Chakra pools don’t seem to have improved at all with my 2nd Awakening whilst everything else has. Physically I got strong, my mana pool got denser, my spirit energy more potent but Chakra is where it’s always been since the peak of my first Awakening. It’s not my path and that’s okay with me, but the versatility of mudra based Chakra release is something I now envy.
The only true limits to a Chakra Awakened is their imagination and Chakra pools and network. With the right network and an efficient pool basically anything is possible, the jutsus are endless in their variety. I’m happy to know enough of the basics to assist my natural healing along but still it’s too slow. Time is not on my side, I can feel it in my spirit weighing on me.
How long was I in that vibrating stone I wonder. How do I still feel like I'm carrying my weapons Kata and Razor when I've clearly lost them? Why am I so depleted? Why does the very thought of summoning Honour make me flinch in phantom pain? How am I alive?
*Breath in, breath out. Breath in, breath out.
It gets hard to bear so I switch hand-signs from apana-mrigi mudra to rudra mudra, Chakra changing it’s flow pushing through different channels within me. Keeping to a steady breath, ignoring all else but my healing to the best of my ability.
Sinking into myself.
Time passes, I shift between mudras as my endurance of each Chakra release wanes, going through a whole bunch of signs before returning to the first and on through the rest.
Time passes, I let my Chakra slip a few times but no harm done. I just start over.
Chakra is a natural internal energy anyone could potentially tap into with the right training. There is so much to the natural energies of the world, so much benefit that I don’t understand why everyone doesn’t use them. You don’t even have to be Awakened or special in any way to develop your Chakra, yet so few regular people bother to even try.
Some people have never even meditated, it’s quite baffling really. What kind of person with aspirations of power, aspirations of unlocking their inner strength or higher self doesn’t meditate? Has never even tried? Shouldn’t they be ashamed of that, shouldn’t that embarrass them into sitting on their asses with their spine straight and look within for the power sitting there untapped?
The knowledgeable academics are the worst. Why read and read and never do? Don’t they know that life waxes and wanes between times of doing and times of learning? Doesn’t everything naturally follow this pattern of action and inaction?
*Breath in, breath out. Breath in, breath out. Time passes.
I move through form 2 to warrior 1, switching to warrior 2 and holding it, reverse warrior to warrior 2 back to reverse warrior cartwheeling through a move completing form 8 as I land. I hold it, transitioning to form 9, form 10, warrior 3.
I flow from position to position slowly and steadily as continuously as I can. Combining the movements of the different disciplines I’ve learnt into an almost single continuous movement that flows into a dance. A dance that has me drenched in sweat with raggered breath wheezing out of me painfully, have I ever been this unfit?
I try to focus on the precision of the moves more than just performing them. I try to do them right, landing my feet just so, keeping my trembling arms here, lifting with that muscle there. I may not be carrying a sword currently but I’m a swordsman, I need to be able to shear the wings off a fly precisely. I need to stab straight without shaking. My body is my first weapon, the blade an extension of that.
Time passes.
I’ve long lost the ability to see, the loss not feeling as debilitating as I imagined it would, nor does the darkness seem so oppressive anymore. I sweat through the forms, through kyokugei, through every movement technique that comes to mind. Imaginary sword in hand I move, I kick, I punch, I stab I cut. My imaginary weapon transitioning as the need arises to complete the intended move when I make a mistake.
I fight my shadows in the darkness whilst cheating shamelessly.
It gets tedious, it gets mind numbing but I don’t care, I can’t care. To urinate I stand on the edge then get back to it, I finish the last of the water from the explorer's camp. I might die of thirst and hunger here, but I don’t care. I know I’m not giving up, I can’t.
Time passes.
"You’re quite obsessive in your training," the voice comes from the darkness. Likely from the very cliff edge I’m training to be able to handle.
"Thanks," how long has it been?
"It wasn’t a complement really, but I suppose we all have to be a bit obsessive to get anything extraordinary done."
I don’t know what to say to that but I like that he’s talking to me again. It must be two days I estimate from my water usage, two days of silent darkness.
"I brought you some food," he floats into my awareness with a bundled up sheet. Placing it before me he gets close, real close to my face with his, peering at me intently.
"I thank you," I say opening my eyes to see the glow in his own from this close. Dude, I’m naked back off.
He moves off while I stand, stretching my legs to get blood flowing freely again.
I get dressed then look at the gift being offered to me. There is bread, cheese, fruit, two potions, water, tea, a piece of meat and a little marble thick with mana. I start eating immediately, eating everything slowly, savouring it.
When last did I eat, when next will I eat again?
I don’t even ask what they arebe for I drink the potions as well, I don’t think he’d kill me with poison and I’m a bit desperate to get out of here.
Okay, maybe I don’t mind if I die to poison either. There is a recklessness in me that's a hurting from whichever one of my kids is gone to the afterlife. If my child can die why do I cling so stubbornly to life?
*Sigh, I can’t sell myself cheaply though. Never surrender to death without a fight.
Ahh… healing potion and a recovery potion of some sort. I can feel them working, I’m getting drowsy and itchy with their effects.
"Thanks," I say again, lying down. I keep the mana marble as a curiosity for now to study later.
He’s gone when I wake. Or he’s standing 11m away watching me I don’t know, I don’t bother with wondering.
Grabbing the walking stick I practice my stances, doing imaginary drawing slashes. Shadow fighting to see how fast I can move, how precisely, how strong I’ve become in a few days of concentrated effort. It’s not enough, it’s not enough to get me across the divide. I need to think my way through this, I have nothing in me that could bridge the gap otherwise.
I can move easier though, there is significant progress. I'm sure the healing potions helped, but why is he helping me?
Should I swallow my pride and go back to that camp? Would they help me or would I be slitting my own throat? Rule of thumb is not to rely on people's generosity, so what do I have to trade?
A trade is not charity, well not always.
Maybe Aeonian will return and I can trade with him, all he seems to want are answers to curiosities and entertainment. What information do I have that might interest him and not put me at a disadvantage? I’ll see when he gets here.
I sit into meditation, this time focusing on my mind. Divorcing it from thoughts, from worries, from burdens as they smaller and further away.
...
Quiet mind is achieved.