As High Tally Cloud finished his introductory statement, Tally Cobble stepped forward.

“Every one of you here knows something about ambient. You are born with it; you live with it, and you use it daily… But most of you do not improve it. The improvement of your ambient control takes consistent training and the repeated practice of a core concept that can be expanded upon as your skill grows. Tonight, I will show you the concept of ambient rotation, and you will disperse into the forest, practicing it until sunrise.”

“Don’t worry about the wildlife,” added Tally Cord, “this segment of the forest is regularly patrolled by brazients and up, so you should spend the night in relative safety.”

Tally Cobble stepped forward once more. They were all directed to encircle him. From an outside perspective, this would all look quite ritualistic. Maybe it was, Rane didn’t know very much about ambient.

High Tally Cloud would narrate what was happening, and Tally Cobble would perform the exercise. Tally Cobble bent to his knees and let his arms hang to his sides, relaxed in a meditative posture.

“First,” began the High Tally, “he will focus inward, becoming intensely aware of the ambient within his own body. Everyone here should have reached that point, whether before coming here, or during the physical training that pushes your body to become stronger.” Rane felt a small victory, as he was a part of the previous camp. His work in the forge had made him at least capable of that.

“Next, he will begin to rotate the ambient within his body. He will not focus on speed, only the movement of his internal ambient. Once the ambient is cycling, then he will increase the tempo.”

At this step, Tally Cobble’s hair began to shift and flow in front of his brow, despite it being a windless night. Rane was unable to fully grasp the feeling, but it was also as if the tally had become more increasingly present. He seemed to stand out from everyone else.

“Finally, he will take that rotational force and begin to expand it beyond his body.”

Dust began to kick up around the tally, spinning around him for a bit and being dropped, picked up again, and repeated.

“However,” said High Tally Cloud, “this is not what it means to be classient. We can kick up dust around our ankles using our boots. Faster and further.”

At this comment, Tally Cobble opened his eyes, pulled a small blade from his uniform, and stood up. Dust continued to cycle around his ankles. He shrugged his shoulders, and suddenly, the cyclone expanded exponentially, to around 4 yards, and enveloped many of the closest to him in a spray of blinding dust. As they scrambled back, Tally Cobble tossed the blade forward, into the cyclone. The blade was suddenly lost in the swirl of dust and the dark of the night.

“But again, classient isn’t about how large Tally Cobble’s little cyclone is. It’s about that fact that he is significantly more lethal than any dreg present.”

A sharp, whistling, noise turned the heads of many, and a heavy thunk revealed the blade which had been lost, now embedded in the side of the officers nest of the training ground.

“And he is also,” High Tally Cloud said as he pulled out an identical blade of his own, “significantly harder to kill.” He thrust his hand forward, propelling the blade dead at the center of the Tally Cobble’s cyclone. As soon as the blade entered Tally Cobbles area of direct control, it changed direction, and soon, the noise of metal hitting wood was heard again. There were now two blades embedded into the officers nest.

“You are all now dismissed,” said the high tally. “Find an isolated area for yourself anywhere near the camp and begin your meditation. The more isolated, the better.”

“Why more isolated,” asked another recruit. It was Lint, another member of the initial squad Rane was a part of.

“That’s not information you need to know, son,” he replied in a tone that seemed almost threatening.

It didn’t seem that others had noticed, but Rane was also sure that he felt all of the tallies' presence flare a bit, just as when Tally Cobble was beginning his demonstration. Well, I’m more concerned with the hows than the whys anyways, thought Rane. Others had already begun to leave. Rane decided to wait a bit to ensure he could leave in a direction that would be less populated. Just to be cautious, he was also going to note the direction that Ben and his lackeys chose. The bush of West Auryck was starting to seem more and more like the tight streets of its southeast district.

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After everyone he had an eye on left the clearing, Rane chose a direction and began walking. There was a full moon, and the wind had picked up, bringing a gentle breeze that waged valiant combat against the mild summer heat. He came across a shallow stream. If his sense of direction could still be trusted, it was running toward Auryck, so it should be safe. He pulled out his knife, the same blade that was a part of every recruit’s basic kit, and cut a few branches to mark the spot where he began following the stream. He continued his journey into the woods, the sound of leaves crunching beneath his feet interrupting the barely audible noise of running water.

He guessed he had been walking for about five minutes. He found a secluded clearing near the creek, and dropped his pack to remove his water pouch. He couldn’t see any fires from the camp, nor hear the breaths and sighs of a night in the barracks. He hadn’t been alone like this in a long time. Actually, maybe he never had been.

Rane walked around the clearing, stomping down some low grass, and pulled a small blanket from his bag, placing it on the ground. He tried to recall what he had seen from the tally that afternoon, and knelt on the cloth, letting both arms hang to his sides. He tried to focus as he did when working the forge. There was nothing except himself, the anvil, the hammer, the metal, and himself. Here, there was only himself. He should be able to do this.

He inhaled, and as he exhaled, Rane only let his mind dwell on the sounds around him. He sorted them out: the cry of an animal, the creaking of branches, the crack of leaves, the buzzing of insects, and the ever present sound of running water. He let thoughts return to his mind as he focused on the sound of the water, and then inward. He felt his ambient. He always felt his ambient, but that was different from being conscious of it. The healer had wanted him to still it. He had tried, though in circumstances not quite conducive to learning. The tallies instructed him to rotate it, and did so in detail, with a demonstration to top it off.

Ambient was constantly moving within the body. He took another breath, trying to imagine the dust cyclone within himself.

It worked! Rane thought with excitement. Then he twisted violently to the side and vomited. He was dizzy, and his insides felt out of place. Hmm. It would seem that ‘internal rotation’ is slightly more complex than that. It would be a long night.

*****

He had figured out internal rotation after a few tries and uncomfortable failures. Maybe his body helped him out after figuring out that he would just continue to try different methods, but he had succeeded in adding a rotational force to his ambient.

After that, he had hit a wall. The constant buzzing and biting of insects broke his concentration, and though he felt on the cusp of breakthrough, he did not succeed in externalizing the rotation before rays of sunlight began to trickle through, lighting up his face as his unkempt gray hair fell over his eyes. He just let himself fall forward onto the blanket, and sleep took him.

Rane woke up with the sun high above him. He looked around, attempting to recognize his surroundings. Things didn’t look the same during the day. He rubbed his eyes and began to pack up his things. It was time to make the trip back to the training area.

It was a good thing that Rane had set up the sticks where he had found the stream. As he followed it back east, he realized that he didn’t really remember anything in particular. He took his time, making sure he didn’t lose his way out in the bush. The tallies claimed that it was regularly patrolled, but they did not say how often was ‘regular’. Additionally, something like a group of ferulls could probably escape their notice completely, but would be like the specters of death to a recruit like Rane.

As he walked back into the training area, he was met with unfamiliar sights. What had been a largely open clearing was now filled with tents, campsites, and sparring rings. It would seem that many of the other recruits had returned at the break of dawn without much success, and had been tasked with setting this up instead.

Rane’s arrival caught the attention of Tally Cord, who yelled, “Dreg Rane, report!” He marked his tablet for his attendance.

“Dreg Rane, reporting. I made some progress in ambient rotation and collapsed from exhaustion near sunrise. I wasted no time after waking up, and made my way directly back to camp,” Rane reported concisely.

“Report to the tent where you will find the rest of your temp squad. You are dismissed.”

Rane left, but was in no hurry to find his squad, which he thanked The Ambient was only a temporary squad. They would all be reassigned after their training was finished, and then await their first deployment. Rane was searching for either the mess hall, or Puddles. He found the tent that would serve as the mess hall rather quickly. It was the most popular area of the camp, and was abuzz with chatter.

“Have you heard,” asked one recruit, “we only get one meal a day while we’re here. They expect us to trap, hunt, or forage for food while we go out for our ambient training exercises over the next week.”

This was news to Rane as well. He frowned and looked up to the heavens. He had no idea how to do any of those things, and he suspected that scavenging out here in the bush was much different that his scavenging back in Auryck. He looked across the tables that had been set up, and to the pots of soup and piles of bread, wondering whether or not he could just survive on one meal a day. At the very least, he didn’t think he would starve. He grabbed a bowl and walked towards the cooks, not looking forward to meeting his squad later. Last night was peaceful. He really hadn’t known what he was missing until he got it. No matter, it was time to find his tent. It was at least a place to drop off his things and rest.