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8. Ki'el, part three

By the following noon, Ki'el had grasped the concept of forming a thread, and was struggling with forming the thread into a ring shape. This at least Sobon was confident would take the girl a while; after all, he still had a touch of trouble forming rings, since the aether had to nearly be tricked into bonding with itself. So while she practiced, he scampered off far into the woods, up a hillside, and into a little cave where there had previously been a snake.

Burns, blood, and deliberate traces of in-spin aether along the entrance probably contributed to scaring anything else away from his little house, for now.

Before he had come back and decided to teach the girl, he'd been confident that he wanted to mostly focus on using in and out aether. Higher spins always had some ability to do lesser tasks--outer aether more naturally produced right-hand spins, inner aether preferred to produce left-hand spins--though it was terribly impure, wasteful. But with the growing possibility of enemy action, he didn't feel safe with just those, anymore. So he scampered his little squirrel body into a comfortable depression in the dirt, claws instinctively scratching around and loosening the soil a bit, and concentrated. His dynamo-produced aether he stilled, until it was static, and then shaped it back into threads, and he made rings, two at a time. Each matched pair of left and right generators he concealed inside his spirit, until he had a dozen in total, not counting the ones built up into his in and out generators.

He studied the resulting fluctuations in his spirit. In truth, it made him nervous.

The human boy Jom had just about broken apart from the use of two dynamos, or perhaps just one--he couldn't remember making any use of his sinister aether during that stupid bit of jogging. Already, he had tried and felt the rebound from using too much aether for this stupid squirrel body; there was no doubt that he'd never be able to handle the output of all twelve at once. Although the twelve thorns would contain the aether until he was ready to use it... that containment wasn't perfect, either. If the aether pushed his squirrel-body to produce more qi until it couldn't do any more, what would he do?

It was almost enough to tempt him into recycling these rings into another inner and another outer ring, and maybe push those four rings into a crude and unstable third-order dynamo. With that kind of power... well, he wasn't sure what the locals would think of him. Probably something barbaric, like he was a god or a demon beast. Either way, the kind of brutes that went around destroying villages for fun wouldn't likely stop no matter what he did. If it wasn't enough to save the girl, it would just be a waste. And in the end... Sobon wasn't sure he cared about his own life and death at this point. Ki'el... he cared about. A bit.

He tried to put out of mind the nagging thought that his seeming invulnerability to death couldn't possibly last forever. As a cyborg, squashing those thoughts would have been trivial; as a human, he might still have succeeded easily. As a squirrel, it was much tougher.

After a few moments of wrestling with those thoughts, he looked inwardly at his core--at the strange reflection of whatever produced, and was adapted to, the local version of aether, this qi. The human core was a bit detached; this squirrel core was thickly tied to his body, and he could almost sense a reflection of his skeleton, muscles, and organs on the other side. He mentally frowned, and sprinkled outer aether across the core's reflection of his body, trying to see what kind of user interface it was intended to provide.

A sick feeling washed over him, like everything had swelled in his body. He studied himself to find it was true; his body wanted to grow, just a touch, but it was going to grow unevenly. He looked back at the reflection and tried to nudge it--lengthening bones, adjusting the curve of his ribs, loosening his skin. Again, he thought to himself bitterly. Wish I had a proper medic, the kind that's certified to design and integrate prosthetics, or just to regrow flesh. This should be specialist work; I'm a marine.

The skeleton reflected in his core turned its head just slightly to look at him as he had that thought, and he looked back, wondering if it would fight him. But the animal spirit was no warrior, and it had already submitted. The former squirrel's soul had been nearly obliterated in the process of him taking over, and it hadn't been large or complex to start with; now, the thing on the other side was little more than some kind of genetic legacy.

He did ignore the thought that if he screwed with it too much, he would no doubt create something cancerous. The skeleton head didn't pursue that thought, since it couldn't begin to understand it.

Instead, once he no longer felt strained, he stopped and just studied the reflection closer, and closer. His core gave him access to change his physical body, which should have been nearly impossible; this qi core thing had to contain at least a third-order spin, and more likely a fourth, if only a touch of it. That didn't mean he was going to screw with it; if he wanted to turn his core into a bomb, it would only take a moment of deliberate action, and he had to trust that he could do just as much damage in just as little time on accident.

A fourth order flow hidden among other flows, though, would be virtually impossible to detect, and this qi core was nothing if not complicated. As he watched, the lobes that represented his... "star" ranking, as the locals called it, began twitching, as though ready to inch up from three to four silver stars. These silver points were narrower, he noted; most likely, five wouldn't be his maximum, even with this small body. He studied the patterns, watching the potential fourth star come and go, before moving on to deeper mechanisms.

It wasn't long before all he saw when he looked inwards was himself, watching himself, watching himself. Somehow, that was how things ended up, whenever his own understanding of the core reached its limit; it wasn't so much that the core changed what he saw, and more that he lost focus and slipped back into a less involved form of self reflection. Still, he was getting better; he was seeing a bit more now than he had before, even as it was still not enough. Not to understand qi, not to understand his core, and not to understand his body.

Instead of worrying about it, he stood up, stretched just a bit, and looked over at a rock, where he was had been etching an aether circuit design. It wasn't complicated, objectively speaking; it was, basically, and aether circuit to power a basic rifle, which should work with left or inner aether. He considered--again--scrapping it and working on something more primitive, like a sword or simple grenade, but put that aside and studied the diagram instead, trying to double check his now-imperfect memory of the aether sub-circuits and patterns that he had chained together. He needed to keep his mind sharp, so that he wouldn't become a... a squirrel-brain.

How long he spent on that, compared to other things, he didn't know, but it was late when he came out of his cave. Ki'el had finished working with her threads and gone fishing. Sobon found himself waiting in the ruined village alongside a once-burned cat with a twice-broken tail, and a three-legged dog. None of the animals wanted anything to do with him, although the dog looked blearily at him for a long moment before some instinct caught up with him and made him shy away.

What a pathetic lot.

None of them would let him get close, but he got in near the burned cat anyway and tried to study its own core. Unlike his own, it was entirely opaque, not so much clouded over as covered with mud and scars. He tried to project a bit of outer aether at it, just to see, but the power dissipated into the environment too fast. It would be easier if he could touch the creature, but it wouldn't allow him, probably not even if it were sleeping.

He looked at the others, but nothing here trusted anyone. Even Ki'el didn't touch them, not in all the time he'd seen her.

Instead of thinking more about it, Sobon went to the dock, finding Ki'el just drifting in on her boat. She hadn't caught much, but she usually didn't, instead mostly supplementing her catch with cooked, starchy fruits; she wasn't much of a meat eater, he supposed, and the island had plantations enough for the many humans that had once tended to them. One way or another, she found food enough.

He made sure she saw him on her way to cook; he thought she noticed his new rings, but didn't say anything, and he didn't bother her. Instead, he went out into the island's forest until he made his way to the side of the island closest to whoever was approaching.

It was still too early to see them on the horizon; by the time they were visible at all, they could arrive in hours at most, if they knew where to go. He wasn't sure, but he thought their approach was slowing a bit; perhaps navigating another island. That part of the sea was deeper into the small archipelago, but he didn't have a map, and he had only explored a few of the nearby islands. His best guess... was that they would be exploring, and hopefully for a while yet.

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He made sure all his rings were stepped down, only barely spinning, and kept them concealed inside, then just stared at the horizon for... well, for a long time. He didn't find the gently rolling seas as calming as Ki'el seemed to; before joining the Mixed Marines, he had been a city brat, and had only just avoided falling into a criminal life in his youth. He would have much preferred to sit on a rooftop and watch a crowd of figures milling around, picking out marks and strays, deducing patterns and taking in the variety of styles and occupations of the people he lived among. This was as far from that past, though, as he had felt in the last moments of his last life, drifting in a crippled ship just barely too far from civilization to have any chance of rescue.

War had changed everything. Sobon idly felt his emotions surging even in this stupid rat body, and he laid a mental hand on the dynamos to keep them from spinning up, even as he let his hatred stir. It wasn't even a war to seize real estate; an old blood feud had reignited, and it spoke volumes how the military had done their best to keep both civilians and soldiers alike ignorant of their part in it. He couldn't do anything about it--he was a Mixed Marine, but only that--but before the previous wave of ships had been repelled, cities had been shattered from orbit and space stations torn apart. The incoming fleet had doubtless intended to do more, or perhaps worse.

The fleet that the Rapier had failed to stop. Had they at least delayed it long enough? The call must have gotten to the main battlegroup. If the two battlecruisers that destroyed the Rapier had been lured away from the portal long enough, perhaps...

Sobon was startled by a sudden noise nearby, and twisted to look, finding his heartbeat pounding, adrenaline coursing, his body... more ready to flee than fight, but all he saw was a pair of birds snapping at each other on a tree branch, either fighting for territory or flirting. They took no notice of him; his animal instincts told him to watch and wait for another long moment, while his marine training told him he could kill them, and how, but didn't try to compel action. In the back of his mind, paranoia insisted he not do anything where the incoming spiritual presence might detect him, while his conscious mind just felt relief that it was nothing actually dangerous.

With a deliberate effort, he pushed down his instincts and just turned to look at the waves again, even though the rush had not worn off. It felt unnatural, but he would get used to it. He remained there until the sun disappeared and the unfamiliar stars shined overhead, and then he went back.

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For Ki'el, the squirrel's instructions were as baffling as they clearly were effective. Although her "master"--she was still inwardly debating whether she acknowledged him as such--had wandered away, clearly confident that it would take her a while to complete the circle with her thread, she had gotten it quickly--and then been unsure what else to do. As always with this... non-qi, when she released the ring, it collapsed.

She wasn't an idiot. The squirrel's rings spun, and it had told her that rotation and releasing were the natures of qi... or, no, they were tools to use qi effectively. But she didn't like the idea of jumping ahead, not as long as she had a proper teacher. Grandmother had been clear with her, as a child, telling her not to explore qi too recklessly, and while she was prepared to die to defend or avenge her home... it wasn't time yet.

Of course, Sobon continued to surpass her, while making it look casual. As she was bringing her food in to cook, there he was, having done... something with his spirit, again. Although it remained concealed inside, she could tell that his qi had new and more intense flavors to it, flavors that felt... no, she wasn't exactly sure. She suppressed her irritation, and went about her business, and so did he.

Sobon didn't show up early the next morning. She supposed, as she went out and watched the sea for a while, and practiced closing circles and trying to make them nice and round, that he still expected this part to take her a long time. So she created thread rings and released them, staring at the waves, and just... being, letting her thoughts run behind her for a little bit without focusing on them.

As she got closer to noon, Ki'el found herself holding a pair of rings, one in each hand. She just.. held on to them, for a long moment, and then out of habit, she pushed out a little bit more power.

Something itched in her after a moment or two of releasing energy, and the rings began to spin, following the energy as it traced down the curve of her fingers. She let go of the rings... but this time, they remained behind. She lifted her hands, surprised, and studied the two up close. Even without looking hard, it wasn't hard to tell that they were different from the squirrel's; they faded in and out, and flickered, their circular shapes losing form as she watched. Although the ring did want to rotate... it seemed to shed glowing blue sparks, until the rings fell apart and vanished all on their own.

She stared at her hands, where the two rings had been, just thinking about it for a long moment, one that stretched on until a sound nearby drew her eyes to a crippled dog, looking up at her with its mournful eyes, as it always did. She suppressed her irritation before it showed, on instinct--but then let a scowl take over her face. "Fine," she said to the dog. "Food. As I should have done earlier."

It wagged its tail, just once or twice, showing more spirit than it usually did, but retreated at the first sign of movement from her, its tail tucked firmly between its legs.

It was late afternoon before Sobon came back to find her, as she was starting her staff practice. She didn't let him dictate her schedule, instead relishing the exercise. As she worked through the staff exercises, she couldn't help but occasionally eye the motions of the staff, as its end turned or as she thrusted it forwards, and she considered the idea of rotation and release.

When she finally set her staff aside, Sobon climbed onto her shoulder, but he was silent until she made her way back to the dock and sat down.

[ How have you progressed? ] he finally asked.

She demonstrated the rings for him, and after a moment of surprised quiet, she tried to replicate what she had done, releasing energy as naturally as she could through her hands, but it didn't quite turn, this time.

Nevertheless, he studied the rings, and noted the energy flow as it came through her hands. [ You're doing very well, ] he said. [ But slow down a moment. In order for you to understand the turning... there is a bit of... math I may need to explain. ]

She bit back a reply and just looked at him, still holding the two rings.

[ How should I say... when you use math to describe things turning around a point, to describe the rotation, you assign it a... direction that is... not the same as the way it appears to turn. ] He leaped down onto her leg, and turned to face her, apparently ignoring the twitching as his claws tickled her bare skin. He held up his forepaws, and showed a flat disk with a point spinning on it... and also, at the center of the disc, a line coming straight up? [ It's less important that you understand exactly why, for now. But you need to know that in certain, important ways, this extra direction to the rotation is true. ]

[ As for which direction the... the thorn goes, look at your right hand. ] He gestured, and she glanced at it, confused. [ If the rotation follows the curve of your fingers, from wrist to fingertip, the thorn leaves towards your thumb. This is known as the right-hand rule. So if you reverse the direction of the spin... ] he changed the graphic, and the line sunk down below the disc as the point spun the other direction.

"And this is important?" She studied the graphic, unsure.

[ The tool is in two parts--the cycle and the thorn. When the aether begins to spin, it creates more of itself, and that extra must be collected in another place, or it will disturb the cycle. That place is the thorn, and while it may not seem like it matters... it is best to decide on exactly where and why it belongs, so that you do not have any confusion in the moment. So, you should imagine it emerges at the center of the circle, in the direction that the cycle's rotation demands. ]

With that, the squirrel drew out one of its small glowing rings, and this time, she could clearly see that it had a tiny spike growing out of its center, with exactly the position and direction he'd suggested. She frowned, and again tried to gently push the rings into rotation... but for a very long moment, nothing seemed to happen.

When it did, she felt a tickle run through her, a tickle that she wasn't quiet sure she liked... but, it was interesting. This time, when the rings began to slowly rotate, they didn't immediately start to fall apart. Although they still shed tiny blue sparks, those sparks seemed to fall into the center.

[ You... are better than I thought. Better than I would have been, I think. ] Sobon studied the two rings. [ For now, don't try to do anything with them, except to let them return inside of you, where they will want to remain. They are unstable for now, but they will get better if you leave them. Don't push energy in, and don't try to touch the thorns or control them. ] He looked up at her, as though expecting her to ask any questions.

It's not that Ki'el had none. Somehow, though, the thrill of discovering something new felt... tempered, weighted against her irritation at having such a strange little master. It was very hard not to scream at him, or at the universe, for what felt like... it had to be an insult, right? Being taught the secrets of the great and powerful by a rat, while she still had to do all the fishing and cooking.

She inhaled, let the air linger, and breathed out her irritation. She knew Sobon was more than the squirrel body he was trapped in. "I will not touch it," she promised, and she relaxed her grip on the circles, feeling them get pulled... somewhere into her spirit. "But I feel like I need more answers."

Sobon met her eyes, studying her. [ I will answer your questions as best I can, ] he said. [ But for many things, you may need... background. And we may not have time for that. ]

She just looked back at him. "They're coming?"

He just nodded.