> "The secret to fighting is to hit first and hit hard, then don't get hit!"

>

> Meditations of the Drunken Chanter of the Black Lotus Teahouse

The next day, it rained. Not the prime conditions for training. But the master and student trained still.

The rain was no torrent; it was a steady downpour yet. A god doing its job, not angry but perseverant. Raxri and Akazha had to retreat from the streamside due to it rising and flooding its banks. They trained under the boughs of the giant mahogany, whose leaves were titanic, providing ample shade for two adults.

This rain was a cold rain, not a sticky, humid hot rain. A chill skewered through them. Parts and pieces of raindrops fell upon the two of them, though they were more or less dry under the boughs of the mahogany.

"The rain be benign," said Akazha, as she stretched. She had on a simple chest wrap and long sarouel pants, both undyed and light brown in color. Her outfit revealed much of the extent of her talismanic tattoos, running down even to her thighs and pelvis. From a certain point of view, they looked like facsimiles of crocodiles and centipedes, with magick spells in a writing Raxri could not read running down them. "Thank the gods it's no storm. Spirits know the monsoons be fickle here, near the End of the World."

Raxri turned. They also had on a simple get up: the monk garb they had taken, with the sarong and the chest wrap. They turned and bowed with hands folded in front of their mouth to Akazha, in respect.

"Now, to the basics of the Light Body." Akazha stretched. "The Light Body Technique was said to be cultivated by ancient sages, who also accumulated and formed the Hot Body Technique, which they used to keep their bodies warm at night and when they would travel to the freezing realms of the high mountains, where higher gods dwell. Martial artists don't generally practice the Hot Body, but the Light Body Technique is almost ubiquitous in the Martial Forest Tradition. In battle, supreme movement and quickness is essential."

Akazha exhaled, moved her hands around in wide, circular motions, and then leapt to the air, twisting and corkscrewing until she softly stepped upon a low-lying branch. She balanced perfectly upon it, bobbed up and down slightly. "Mastering the Light Body Technique is crucial for avoiding attacks, for fleeing, and for mastering the battlefield. However, there is a drawback: wearing armor will dampen the Light Body Technique unless you have advanced to the Iron Lightness Stage of the Light Body Technique, which is about..." Akazha counted her finger. "The fourth stage of the Light Body, and attaining that level is no easy feat."

Raxri looked down upon themself. They figured by then that they hadn't seen anyone wearing heavily clad armor, no plates nor chains nor heavy leathers and hides. Truly, those kinds of armors in a hot and humid clime such as this? It would kill the wearer. Raxri put aside a lingering thought about how full armors would look like in a place such as the Utter Islands.

"Will that be to my detriment?"

Akazha shrugged. "It is dependent upon your path! But warlords, strategians and commanders one and all master the Light Body Technique all the same, so that they may outmaneuver those lesser than them. Of course, thinking there are those lesser than them forces them to not realize full mastery of the Light Body Technique."

"How do I accomplish such a feat?"

Akazha tilted her head to the side, pressing her lips together. "In truth, that you already know much mastery in the ways of the Whorl Hand, it would be less difficult for you. If I were a better master, I would have begun your training in the Light Body first, as the Light Body is an easy art to get you started on the foundations of harnessing Will. However, the Meditation and Concentration you have been able to build to channel the Whorl Hand Art has given you a powerful foundation enough. I am surprised at it, in truth. Perhaps, in your past, you were a mystic of great power and meditational prowess." She stepped off of the branch and floated down. "Now, breathe. Control your inhalation and exhalation. Meditate upon it, focus upon it. Find the first few droplets of your Will."

Raxri did so, clearing their mind and focusing only upon their breathing. Their slow inhale and exhale cadence. It really did come easily to them: Raxri became over-aware of the movements of their Inner Winds, of the flow rushing through them. The way their breaths slowed or quickened depending on how they wished it to move, the way their breath hitched sometimes, or the way that a budding need to cough arose, or the way some breaths were cold while others hot, or the way they felt wetness when they inhaled due to the dripping rain.

Then, there! The first few embers of their Will, stoked by their Concentration. They reached out to it and immediately felt their entire body shudder.

Still with eyes closed, Raxri said: "Master, teach me. What be the Will?"

"That's a complicated subject to dive into," replied Akazha. "Chakra, Jeva, Ginhawa, Lekas, Reng, Prana, Tsi, Khi, Xir, Vim, as they are called across the thousand thousand languages of the Utter Islands. It is the very thing that penetrates us all, that binds all us sentient beings to each other and to the universe. The Will is the primary mover. It is distilled awakened consciousness. In many cultures, the Will and the Winds are the same. And in some ways it is! If the Will is the source, then the Winds are the pathways that lead to every other Inner Power. Hence why breathing techniques are paramount in almost every supernatural martial art.

"There are eight nodes within your body, and there are eight winds that flow through all these nodes, at different parts of your body. The Winds flow due to the Will. All Will comes from the Liver, and all Winds emanate from the River. This is your Will Furnace. From your Will Furnace flows the eight winds: there is the Crown Wind, the Brow Wind, the Throat Wind, the Heart Wind, the Navel Wind, the Basal Wind, the Tail Wind, and the Feet Wind. Through meditation and Pure Contemplation, one can manipulate and harness the Will and consequently manipulate the Winds. Will is the Inner Power, you see. The Subtle Body. The Thunderbolt Essence."

"I see. So with proper contemplation I can control it?"

"Yes. And now you do just that, by focusing and contemplating on your breathing. As I've said, it comes natural to you. Truly, the meditationist's mind erupts from you. All the more interesting." Akazha bit her lip. "The past may haunt you, but it has granted you exceptional tools to face your challenges in the future. As if it anticipated this."

Raxri's thoughts began to wander into what other things their past might be hiding, but they caught it with their mind. No greater adversary but the mind. Raxri cast aside their thoughts, banishing it with a snarl, then returned to their breathing, returning to their contemplation.

Akazha continued. "Good, very good. Now that your breathing has come to you, and that you control it, send that breathing down to your feet. You can feel it: the Will moving through the Inner Winds."

Raxri did so. Every breath being sent to their base, to their feet, channeling all their Inner Power to their very soles. They felt themselves lighten, though not just physically but also mentally. Someone with lesser control of their Contemplation could very well become too light-headed and vomit and perhaps even pass out.

But Raxri held on.

Akazha turned and pointed up at the hanging branch. "Now leap, my student! Ho ho ho! Your Will bursts from you!" The laugh was a hearty laugh, half mocking laugh, half "arise my creation!" sort of laugh. Raxri didn't think about it, their Contemplation was steel. Their Will flowed, though not as liquid as they had hoped. Not yet.

Raxri shot off the ground with the sudden weight of a hot-air balloon. When most humans leap, they summarily touch the ground in short order. However, when Raxri leaped, they floated, as if carried by gods, and with the winds swirling about them, they soared, moving up and up, until they were at the same height as the branch. Their feet lightly touched the branch and they stepped. With the winds still coursing through them, they felt their body become as light as a feather. Upon the branch, they balanced. No branch could have carried all of Raxri's weight, but there they be. Their Light Body Technique consolidated, settling at the bottom of Raxri's belly.

"By the gods...!" Raxri's grinned so hard that it seemed like their hair and clothes lit up and stood up on end as well.

"Stellar work, my charge. That is the basic way of the Light Body." Akazha also leapt up, onto a branch beside Raxri, and then she sat. "Many of the masters of the Light Body have even eschewed the use of horses for short-distance travel, for they can use their feather-weight body to leap great distances and much faster so than usual mounts. Now, come."

The rain continued, but Akazha walked out into it, towards the flooding stream. It was fortuitous then that they did not choose to wear footwear at that moment. Akazha beckoned for Raxri to follow them, and Raxri followed suit, leaping down and landing relatively unharmed (they had anticipated a massive shock to their ankles and feet, which never came). Though they did not float down like Akazha did, they still descended at a slower rate, much like how a feather would descend upon the earth.

They were wet by the rain. Akazha's clothes matted to her skin, but they were light cloths, so it didn't hamper them overmuch. Akazha's hair was drenched, stuck to the sides of her face. She pushed it back, revealing a massive forehead that Raxri had never seen before. "Whoa, master."

Akazha stopped, turned to Raxri as she smoothed her hair back, pulling it away from her face. "What's the matter? Enchanted, are you?"

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"I've never seen a forehead so big before!" Akazha's foot struck straight into Raxri's solar plexus, and Raxri doubled over, wheezing. Half with laughter, half with regret and genuine pain.

Overhead, the trees stood resolute, glinting a bright light as light sunlight peeked from the dark clouds, dappling the very raindrops that fell like tears. In this half-rain half-sun, the colors of nature seemed to be brighter, stronger. The green was greener, the blue of the stream was brighter blue, the gray of the stone and the white of the boulder near the source of the stream were grayer and whiter still.

"Now, student," said Akazha, with a bit of a snarl still in their voice. "Follow me." She leapt, crossing the flooded stream, and then stood atop the rushing waters (which rushed because of the rain). She stood like a flamingo, with one foot lightly touching the rushing water and another foot folded, placed beside the straight leg's knee.

Raxri tried to catch their breath, but it took considerable effort. They couldn't help but laugh: Akazha knew what they were doing by kicking them right where the strike would've impeded the flow of Will.

"What ails you, student?" There was a certain offended tone to her voice, still. A venomous edge.

Raxri laughed again. "My Inner Winds have been knocked out of me!"

"Perhaps you will take care not to speak of my forehead again!"

"Forgive me, forgive me. I did not realize what I was saying until it was too late!"

Akazha stared longer, then slowly began to laugh as well. She waited patiently for her student, and eventually Raxri managed to enter Contemplation again, focusing on their breathing. With bated breath, and with a certain expectant stare, Akazha waited.

Raxri inhaled, exhaled, then bound with one foot. A single step turned into a leaping bound. Winds flurried through them, their air flapping. When their feet struck the water, they bobbed up and down for a moment, and then the Light Body kept them up. Will concentrated around their Feet Wind, allowing them to keep afloat. They stepped lightly upon the waters.

"Good, good job student!" Akazha leapt over and pat Raxri on the head as they were rising up from their crouched position.

Raxri grinned. "Thank you, master. Harnesssing my Will to control my Inner Winds affords me freedom I never knew I wished!"

"And I will teach you more yet."

The two of them became drenched in the rain, but it was all good. Raxri, the ever-curious, walked a few steps, and saw that they balanced perfectly upon the rushing, babbling flooded stream. They turned and kicked, and a splash of cleanwater erupted, striking Akazha directly.

Akazha gasped, mostly at the cold, but also at the affront. With play-indignation, Akazha kicked up water as well. The cold struck Raxri like the kiss of a nether god, and they almost fell over as their muscles spasmed at the sudden chill.

"You see, student: the Will does not only impels the Inner Winds. It also impels the Inner Fire. And so you shall perish upon the coldness."

"Inner f-f-f-f-fires? How many powers run through our body, truly?"

"Eight, in truth. The eight major attributes of this world. Come, let us lecture within. The rain will not abate, it seems."

"Very we-oof!" Akazha had stepped forward and Whorl Hand elbowed Raxri. The motion continued into a carry, with Akazha carrying the now much lighter Raxri over her shoulder. Akazha leapt over to the muddy bank, and then bound a few more steps, back up the path and back to her cottage.

Within the cottage, steaming hot rice and tamarind soup had been prepared, along with clay bowls for eating, cleaned pipes, gloambloom on two platelets, hot tea, and betel nut quids in an opened box. "Ah, you've returned!" It was Jikajika, taking of his wide-brimmed hat and bowing. "I see training has gone swell."

"Too swell," said Akazha, smiling demurely again. She set Raxri down as if they were a sack of rice. Raxri rolled about on the floor, catching their breath.

Jikajika laughed. "Ah, you must have said something about her forehead!"

"Silence, uncle," said Akazha. "Lest thou wish the demon hordes to take you finally?"

Jikajika just shrugged. "Ah, see you that my time be near?"

Akazha rolled her eyes. She went up to her room in the second floor to change clothes. Jikajika fluttered over to Raxri and pat their head. "There, there. Witness, a fresh change of clothes awaits thee in thy room. Tarry no longer, and come out for food! Tamarind soup is my specialty, and its ambrosia lingers in its steaming hot heat."

Raxri, shivering, nodded. Thunder crackled overhead. As Raxri went into their room to change their clothes into a fresh and warm brocaded tunic and sarong that wrapped around their waist and only reached the tops of their calves, Raxri felt a relief and coziness unrivaled ever since they've left that state of darkness they were in in the Vault of Souls.

Jikajika whistled as another clap of thunder rumbled. "The battle of the winds wage ferocious now. This must be a true grudge."

Raxri stepped out and sat. "Are the gods fighting?"

Jikajika nodded. "Aye, all the time, dear one. Here, in the End of the World, the very tip of Pemi, various storm gods and wind gods fight to establish their sky kingdoms. It makes for very dangerous sailing, and it is why sea sailing is somewhat rare in this section, despite the various islands that pock the waters here. Sky sailing, however, is more common, though that require that you have ancestors and tutelary deities that are friendly with the appropriate wind god to carry you through."

"Why do they set themselves against each other?"

"Well, Raxri. There was a time to be true when the winds were agreeable with another. Then, when a portion of the sky was gashed by the Invincible Blade Princess, a large number of wind gods died, and this caused true imbalances. The winds and storms and zephyrs and gales all fought, and truly keep fighting, over who will inherit who, and who will serve who. This has led to cataclysmic storms. It is especially strong here, as you can see, for the End of the World has ever been the badlands of the skies."

"I see. How sorrowful." Raxri turned and began eating. The sourness of soup was perfect combined with the plainness of the white rice, creating an unbeatable flavor that filled Raxri's heart. They could not have enough. They ate and ate, though with a certain rhythm. They made sure they ate not too fast so that they would not be able to appreciate the taste and flavor.

Eventually, Akazha came back down, now also freshly dressed. A single tube skirt brought up to her chest, and still yet long enough to have multiple folds on one side. The tube skirt was embellished and embroidered with coiling dragons. Now their hair was yet wet, so a headscarf wrapped it up, revealing again her spacious forehead.

"Student, dare not speak about my forehead again."

Raxri blinked. "Ha? Oh, yes, of course master. Forgive me for having done it."

"You're beautiful, even--nay, ESPECIALLY--with your forehead, Akazha dear!" Jikajika said, with humor mounted upon his words.

"Spare me, uncle." Akazha stepped over and sat, and began eating.

"O, you are yet far from the path of wizardhood if you are to be offended over such trivial, material things!"

"Yes, yes, bite me. Our student here, uncle, has learned the beginnings of the Light Body Technique."

Jikajika hopped up to the table. "O, that be true? If so, then this young being can survive on their own without any other help!"

Raxri nodded, looking up at Jikajika. Akazha bit the inside of her cheek. She wasn't sure they agreed. Raxri wasn't sure they agreed either not sure if they agreed, but they nodded anyway. Far be it for them to disagree. The god would know much more than them, a mere human, after all.

Akazha chewed on her foot. She sat with one foot up, her hand resting on her knee. She swallowed and said: "The Light Body Technique is the most common way of doing so when one is a traveler, adventurer, explorer, warrior, or any profession that requires travel through dangerous locales."

Jikajika nodded twice. "Aye. In the grand mountains, manipulating one's Inner Heat is the more common way of manipulating Will, solely due to the cold. Meditationists use their Will to calm their Inner Lightnings to ease their mind. The greater blacksmiths use their Will when building a weapon fit for a god to inhabit. Any god will respect a strong Will."

"There are other powers within the body, yes?"

"Yes," said Akazha. She sipped some of the stew, loudly. "Rah! How delicious. Anyhow: within the world you see there are eight primary powers, the things that keep it moving and make up this phenomenal reality. That is, the reality that one experiences and suffers in. These arise from the basal aggregates, which is a spirit science I cannot teach you as of the current moment.

"These Powers arise from the Will Furnace. They truly are aspects of the Will. All sentient beings have these Inner Powers: Fire, Water, Wind, Earth, Lightning, Ice, Light and Dark. There is nothing in this world that possess naught at least one of the Powers. And truly, many of the natural minerals of the world hold these Powers within their hearts... such as topaz holding the power of lightning, pearl holding the power of water, ruby holding the power of fire, and yet more."

Akazha took a moment to shove a spoonful of rice. Raxri then said, as their master chewed: "So there be Inner Winds, Inner Fire, Inner Water, Inner Earth, Inner Lightning, Inner Ice, Inner Light, and Inner Dark?"

Jikajika nodded. Akazha chewed still. "They all arise from Will, the Mind. Then, the Inner Dark is the empty spaces within one's body, which allows for movement. The Inner Light is the subtle points of the body, positive sensations, ambitions, and the like. The Inner Ice is one's coldness, while the Inner Fire is one's heat."

Finally, Akazha swallowed and said: "You know how we are prone to sweating? Especially in the heat? That is because the Inner Ice stored within our muscles and flesh is melted by the heat, turned into sweat that cools one's body."

"Ah... I see. And is sweat an Inner Water?"

Akazha raised a finger, a proud grin on her face as she closed her eyes. "You're catching on, student. All the liquids that pour from your body are your Inner Waters: blood, tears, sweat, urine, and all. While Inner Earth is your flesh and your solid wastes. Your Inner Lightning is the connections of your neurons, the electrospasms that move your flesh, as commanded by your Will. Finally, your Inner Fire is your bodily heat, coming from one's own liver and heart, and is also one's burning emotions. Every sentient being has an Inner Fire. The only being that truly has none of these Powers--meaning they are not governed by things outside of their control--are those that have attained Ultima Extinction."

Raxri was eating all the while, though their mind was purely focused on the intense lesson both Akazha and Jikajika were relaying to them. At the end of it, they nodded. "And I assume... Ultima Extinction is the state that leads to being Awoken?"

"More than that," said Akazha. "It leads to the greatest state of Awokenhood. The Savior."

"My mind is dizzied from such revelation... I cannot fathom."

Akazha shrugged. "Nor are you supposed to. Your unconscious mind will remember these things, though your conscious mind will not. Hear the teachings of the Infinite Law and you will find your path upon the Stream to Enlightenment."

Jikajika chuckled. "You confuse the child, witch. One step at a time, you know?"

Akazha smiled. "Of course. Worry not."

Once they finished their food, they carried their plates to the kitchen, into the rattan bag they used to carry to the stream the dishes. Then, the three of them smoked the gloambloom, filling them with relaxation and rest. Purple smoke wafted lazily about them. The rain had calmed down now, from being a storm. They had to resort to using lotus-lights to be able to illuminate their room, as the torches kept getting doused by the waters.

Before Akazha alighted to their room, they called to Raxri.

"Yes, master?"

"You need not call me master," she said, a soft smile on her lips. "Just Akazha. You've exerted yourself too much. Does your bullet wound not hurt?"

Raxri looked down upon it. In truth it continuously pulsated pain still, but the adrenaline of learning new things and advancing kept it down. Not to mention the Healing Pill, the healing-infused foods, and their newfound access to Will being able to strengthen them for the time being. "It does."

"We will take our time in our practice. Usually wounds from arquebus projectiles take a Moon at least to heal. The Healing Pill has doubled that time, but you will need at least 10 days or so to fully recover. We will be training on each day, but you will not be pushing yourself past your limit, nor even bringing yourself to your limit. Understand?"

Raxri nodded. Now that their attention was to their wound, the pain did seem to lance more frequently. It alternated between sudden daggers of pain and numbness. Wincing, Raxri said, "Thank you, Akazha."

"Get plenty of rest. You will need it."