43. Potential

Thaseus walked through the wreckage of his childhood, his arm around his father’s shoulder as he helped the injured man walk for the first time in three weeks. While his family, his clan, had been powerful once, they had overextended their hand during the tournament. They had been caught rigging the scores to ensure that Thaseus took first place, and one of the judges had taken violent issue with this.

That shouldn’t have been a problem, except that the judge in question was Tornolai the raging tyrant. While nobody ever expected Tornolai to ascend, that only made the golden path cultivator that much more of a problem to deal with. Upsetting a cultivator who was trying to ascend was relatively harmless. They had to sever their attachments to the world anyway, so forgiving or quickly settling debts were a given.

But Tornolai’s displeasure could haunt Thaseus’s family for generations.

Thaseus himself had only barely managed to escape the man’s wrath, and he’d done it by showing his belly and submitting completely.

It was humiliating.

He’d do it again.

“I need to sit,” his father said, and Thaseus quickly helped him over to a bench where the elders had used to watch their juniors spar. They sat together, staring out at the rubble and broken buildings.

His father began to cry. Silently, but Thaseus saw the tears drip.

“It’s not the end,” Thaseus said.

“It is for me,” His father said definitively. “Not the entire clan, you’re right about that. But my days of being the patriarch are over. The other elders are already talking about raising your cousin to take my place.”

Thaseus nodded. He knew which cousin they were discussing, a man in his fifties with a cultivation in the late bronze path. He was expected to take his first steps onto the silver within a decade or two, but his relatively slow pace of growth was not a sign of weakness compared to his father, who was the same age.

After all, Thaseus himself had slowed his cultivation for six years to establish a wider foundation. In some things, patience was more important than haste, and Thaseus had become unstop--

He shook his head.

No, he was not an unstoppable force. He had only won the tournament through the underhanded tactics of his family that had caused their downfall. If it hadn’t been for them propping him up, he would be …

“I want to tell you that it is time to step onto the bronze, my son,” his father said, “But I fear that it is no longer my place to tell you what to do. It was your words to Tornolai which caused him to spare us his total wrath, your wisdom which saw the middle path. What face we have left is thanks to your wisdom and not mine.”

“I am not wise, father,” Thaseus said. “I was a coward. I surrendered rather than fighting to the death. I capitulated. I—”

“You saved us all from an overwhelming foe,” his father said. “We lost so many in the attack, and what few we have left owe their lives to you.”

Thaseus went silent, inwardly disputing the words but so accustomed to listening to his father that he didn’t dare argue.

They sat in silence for some time before a songbird appeared. It sang a few notes, and then abruptly changed form into Po Guah, the Awakened Soul.

“Thaseus. I am surprised that you did not seek me out sooner for your reward,” the boy said.

“Give it to someone else. I won by cheating. I don’t deserve it,” Thaseus told the boy, who was no doubt just an avatar.

“I know,” the boy said. “I’ve decided to take on disciples, and they could learn from your strength. Whether you deserve it or not, you will have your rewards from the tournament. Or not. The choice is yours.”

“If I accept, then will Tornolai visit vengeance on my family once more?” he asked.

“No. I’ve already spoken with him and told him of my plans,” Po Guah said. “If you decide to accept your reward, meet me at the monolith south of town at dawn in two days. If you decide to forsake it, well, we shall not wait for you. You have until then to decide.”

The avatar turned back into a songbird and flew away.

~~~~~~~

Polkluk closed his eyes, slowly dancing through the kata with his quarterstaff. He wished that he’d had this staff when he’d faced off against Po Guah. All sixteen of him.

He grinned, dancing through a few steps of that fight from memory, imagining the oncoming attacks coming at him and how he’d counter them with a weapon. He’d swing it like this, then block like that, and then he’d dodge over here and--

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He tripped over a stone and fell into the stream that ran through the practice area. He sputtered and picked himself up, looking around to see if anyone was watching, but he was alone. Practice had ended hours ago at this chapter of the Raging River Sect, and it was only his desire to shadow-spar without eyes on him that brought him out at this time of day.

He shook his head. The others just didn’t understand. He’d fought against Po Guah! That was perhaps the defining moment in his training so far. Everything before that was but a shadow. He’d been shown so many weaknesses, gained so many insights, that even weeks afterwards he was still struggling to unpack it all. He would--

“Brother Polkluk,” his elder disciple said, motioning him over. Polkluk quickly put his staff away and rushed over, bowing humbly to his elder as was proper.

“Brother Rotil? You need me for something?” he asked.

“Lady Tonilla requests your company tonight,” Rotil informed him. “The message was just received, but you are still expected at the compound in Mer’cah this evening by dusk. I suggest that you run.”

Polkluk’s eyes rose and he sputtered.

“Go,” Rotil suggested, and Polkluk took off running.

He had perhaps five or six hours to travel over a hundred miles.

~~~~~~

I sat with a peach-pit in my lap and a thunderbird on my shoulder and juggled through my reflections. I glanced through a dozen different avatars, watching as this one played tag with a group of children, as that one helped rebuild a pauper’s hovel, as this other one stood solemnly at a funeral.

Almost everywhere I looked were happy faces. That was well.

My other selves were not me. And they were. They were what I could have become, and they were things that I could never be.

But they all took joy in the joy of the people of Mer’cah. Because soon I would be leaving them behind.

I sensed something important happening in the presence of the avatar in Tonilla’s court. Closing one eye, I opened another miles away.

My other self was eating sweatcake in a corner and watching dancers play out scene two of The Epic of Gilgath. Sensing the strands of fate snapping into place, my other self stood and walked out of the inn to where the servants came in to the compound just in time to find a very sweaty boy stumble through.

“Hello Polkluk, it’s good to see you again,” I said.

“Po Guah!” he exclaimed. He was out of breath, but still he kowtowed. “This one thanks the elder for imparting his wisdom!”

I sighed, but my other self simply smiled.

“You are welcome, child. Why have you come?”

“I don’t know, I was just told—”

“Never mind him, he’s just an avatar,” Tonilla said impatiently, stepping into the room. “Why are you so sweaty? Did you run the entire way here?”

“Y-yes?” the boy said. “Was that not part of the test?”

“There was no test! Where did you run from?”

“F-from the western compound,” Polkluk said nervously.

“Oh for, I didn’t know where you were when I sent that letter. I would have waited until tomorrow, you’re not to set out for another two days,” she muttered. “Look, student, I apologize for the hardship I have unintentionally caused you. You have performed well and pleased me. For now, why don’t you go bathe and change into something that doesn’t stink of teenage boy, and then meet me and the avatar in the parlor.”

I moved to the parlor to await this meeting. I sat quietly on the cushion next to the one where Tonilla would sit, and after twenty minutes or so Polkluk joined me, his light hair still wet. He knelt on the supplicant’s cushion and waited, and after another five minutes Tonilla joined us. She never would have left me alone before she realized that my true self was not in her care.

“Tell me, Polkluk, are you loyal to the Raging River Sect?”

“Yes! Yes of course I am!” the boy said. “I was honored to represent us in the tournament! It was with pride that I refused to give in until after I had unmasked Po Guah! I—”

“Good. I believe you, you don’t have to prove yourself, you already have, Polkluk,” Tonilla said. “And I wish to reward your loyalty. With Po Guah’s blessing, of course, there is an opportunity which has fallen into our lap. Do you wish to reach the Silver Path?”

“O-of course!” he exclaimed. “But my talent is—”

“A concern for Po Guah. He claims that he can raise any disciple to the silver path within a year. This is a test of him as much as you, Polkluk. I wish for you to join him and his other disciples and follow him with utter loyalty until you have reached the silver path. Then, you will return to the Raging River Sect and take your place as a Junior Elder. Do you accept this task?”

“Yes!” Polkluk exclaimed, and I saw not a shred of doubt in his heart. He was humbled by the offer, and eager, desperate even, to prove himself.

That he was being manipulated as a pawn and a spy by Tonilla was plain to me, but it suited my purposes well. A chance to evaluate my training methods was no more or less than I promised her.

Content, I closed my other eye, and left the rest of the conversation to my other self to manage.

“I’m glad that she chose Polkluk,” I told Jumper, who sat on my shoulder. “He has more potential than he knows.”

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