Issima pulled Ethan’s hand as they rushed through the city, passing by few people in the streets, as most of the people were gathered in the central plaza for the feast.
“Where are we going?”
Ethan finally said.
He had been silently walking with her up to this point, but he was getting a very strange vibe from the buildings around this part of the city, and the few people around seemed to be doing shady businesses and some couples hurrying about trying –and terribly failing– to not look suspicious.
“We are going to a private place, of course.”
Issima answered instantly.
She seemed very earnest and she looked like she knew where she was going, but in this kind of environment, he couldn’t just keep his mouth shut.
“A private place… here? You mean a… a room?”
Ethan was red as a tomato; he didn’t expect her to take him to a love hotel when he asked for a private place. Had she misunderstood him? No, he had specifically said it was a private place to perform the dance.
“A room? No, why would we get a–”
Issima looked around and took in their current location.
“Oh.”
Now she was getting red as a tomato. Taking him through the red light district of the city was probably the source of a misunderstanding; she needed to clear this up.
“No, no! it’s just that I know a place where no one can see us, it’s a place where I used to play and practice in privacy, it has enough space for you to move around and perform the dance. After we pass this district, we’ll be there.”
Ethan nodded vigorously at her.
“Of course, of course! Sorry, I made a wrong assumption.”
They picked up the pace and crossed the red light district, which wasn’t really big in the first place.
They quickly reached an open area that reminded Ethan of a park from his homeland, surely she wouldn’t want him to show her the dance here? It was an area where anyone could see them, even if he didn’t see anyone around right now.
Issima ran ahead of him and got near a stone structure that looked like decoration for the place; she turned around and waved at him to hurry up.
There was an entrance to an underground passage.
“This looks very suspicious and ridiculously out in the open for such a shady door.”
Commented Ethan looking at the open door in front of him where initially had been only huge rocks, a set of stairs went down into the darkness.
“This is warded, so only those who know the password can see it and open it. Come on, there will be nobody here at this hour, and there’s no underground event tonight, everyone’s at the plaza.”
Issima answered with a smug look, but no matter how he looked at it, this entrance seemed pretty obvious to Ethan, anyone could have found it even if there was a magic password to open it.
They walked down the stairs and the door closed behind them, lines of soft light on the walls were the only illumination for the passageway.
In a minute they reached the end of the stairs, and after a set of turns walking a tunnel they reached a subterranean arena.
“What’s this?”
“A fighting ring. Built many years ago, it’s almost as old as this city, back in the days where laws were stricter for the city and they had to hide if they wanted activities like this. Nowadays, it’s known by everyone, but the password is kept to stop children from getting in here, there are also other, bigger and cleaner places in the city for practice and entertainment, so this place is not as used as before.”
Issima explained in a joyous mood, barely containing her excitement and at the border of patience, she wanted Ethan to show her the dance already.
“So there’s no one here to see us, come, come, show me the dance.”
She started to push Ethan to the center of the fighting ring, practically hopping in anticipation.
“Ok, ok. Calm down, I’m doing it.”
“If I could calm down, we wouldn’t be here in the first place. I’m an impatient woman.”
“You said it, not me.”
Ethan grinned as Issima gave him space in the middle of the ring. This area was well-illuminated by crystals in the ceiling and pillars, letting the people have a clear sight of the ring.
He took off his robe, if he was going to perform the moves of that dance he needed as much freedom of movement as possible.
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“Sorry, can you hold this for me?”
He turned to Issima and asked her. He didn’t want to drop his robe into the dirty ground.
“Sure, no problem.”
Issima agreed instantly and signaled Ethan to throw the robe to her.
“Do you need me to lend you a sword? Maybe both?”
Issima asked as she folded Ethan’s robe and hung it on her arm. This was a Sword Dancer’s dance, after all. A sword was a necessity, a kind of obvious one.
Yet Ethan’s answer was no.
“If what I believe is correct, then no. You guys perform it in a group but each of you uses different weapons, and half of you wield one sword while the other wields a pair of swords. I’m not sure if this makes sense, but we’ll know once I try it.”
Ethan closed his eyes and took a deep breath, remembering the Dance of Four Forms that Issima and her companions had performed.
He recalled the beat of the drums, the movements of the Sword Dancers, the marvelous experience of sensing a deeper Intent in the dance, and the moves that harmonized with that Intent, the way they coordinated with the music…
Ethan opened his eyes, wondering if he could perform those moves in the first place, he knew them and he doubted he would ever forget them, but there was a huge difference between seeing and doing something.
It was too late to chicken out, he shouldn’t have boasted about it if he was going to back away now.
There was nothing else to do but try, he could always repeat until he got the moves right, or show one by one to Issima and she would perform them properly.
He also wondered if he could do it without the music, the moves were one thing, but if it actually needed music to work he would be screwed. He thought the music might help to get in the mood or maybe enter some trance for the dance, but if this was a martial art then it wasn’t strictly necessary to have the music when performing the moves, they wouldn’t take the drums with them when fighting, would they?
Still, having the music would probably help him right now.
Tuk.
Tuk, tuk tuk.
Tuk-tuk, tuk. Tuk-tuk, tuk.
A soft tapping sound came from nearby, and Ethan looked to his right.
Perching on a tall wooden stick that seemed to be used to hold torches next to the fighting ring was a crimson bird, tapping one of its talons on the wood.
And the rhythm of that tapping was the same as the drums during the Sword Dancers’ performance.
Ethan nodded to his Master, as Issima stared curiously at the strange bird.
Then he returned his attention to the sound and mentally went over the moves he was about to perform.
The tapping sound changed into the beat of drums, and Ethan started to move.
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Issima had seen strange creatures in her life, she had fought monsters in the desert, explored the wilderness with her clansmen when she was younger, she had seen portraits of important people embellished with images of mythical beings, and drawings of fantastic creatures in books and murals.
But she had only once seen the image of a Phoenix before, many years ago, on a marvelous painting on one of the inner halls of the Assembly Temple.
It was a masterpiece, depicting a giant bird of crimson fire and golden light, spreading its fiery wings to cover the sky, its singing and flames brought life to the chosen and complete destruction to its enemies.
Now one of those same creatures of legend was standing in front of her, there was no doubt, that crimson plumage that seemed to be made of dancing flames and the powerful presence it radiated, there was something holy in it, and Issima had a rising urge to kneel in worship.
The Phoenix was tapping the wood lightly, yet the sound resonated with the force of drums, blending in the air and echoing in the silent underground arena.
It was the same sound as when the Clans performed the Dance of Four Forms, but this felt different, more solemn, more significant.
And then Ethan moved to the sound of the Phoenix, starting his dance from the same starting position as she knew: a simple neutral standing with arms to the side.
He stepped forward with his hands stretched and fingers side by side, as if his hands were blades.
He moved with precise movements, there was no hesitation in him, no uncertainty about what the next move should be, and each move merged perfectly in the dance, leading naturally to the next.
Wind was blowing.
Ethan spun and changed his footing swiftly, his hands were constantly dancing in the air, making sharp sounds as the swords when cutting the air.
She recognized each move, the sequence was strange for her but each part of it was a move she had memorized since the earliest years of her life.
The heavy slash of a great sword when making a descending strike.
The fast swing of a saber, the elegant parry of a katana, the powerful thrust of a longsword.
Harmony.
The use of different weapons fused into one, their techniques marvelously displayed by an unarmed man whose bare hands seemed to be the greatest blade in the world.
That’s when she saw it.
The only blade needed to perform this dance was one’s own body.
His feet moved like gliding over the ground, leaving subtle marks behind them.
His body moved along with the wind and his hands cut the air, commanding the flow of the wind.
Issima wondered for a moment if Ethan was actually a secret master who reached the legendary peak of swordsmanship. It was said that once one achieved true mastery of one’s style, that comprehension would lead to not needing to use any sword at all.
But he could not be at such a level, she noticed that despite the moves being correct, he was still lacking the proper power and fluidity that a seasoned practitioner would have.
He knew the moves, and the Intent behind it, but he had not made it part of himself yet, he had not built up that Intent and power within him with years of practice as Issima had.
He didn’t have the aura of a true master, but this dance was a glimpse of that realm of mastery.
She could see it clearly now, what he had meant before about this dance not needing any sword to be performed.
This was a dance that aimed at the ideal condition of unarmed swordsmanship.
Ethan finished the dance with a clean cutting motion, and Issima was sure that the wind itself was a blade for a moment, before dissipating soundlessly.
She committed every move to memory.
She could feel it in her veins, the blood boiling in excitement and the heart pounding wildly. She would master this dance and unveil the deepest secrets, she would rise and return the Ancient Glory to her Clan.
She had seen a treasure of the Ancestors reviving, she could not stop the tears forming in the corner of her eyes.
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Ethan let out a long breath and looked at Issima, she was softly rubbing the corner of her eyes.
She was crying, but why?
She dedicated an ample smile to him and bowed deeply.
Ethan turned to his right, his Master was nowhere to be found.
The sound of footstep surprised both of them, Issima instantly turned and unsheathed her swords.
An old man was walking to them, already close to the ring, too close to have missed the dance, this man had been hidden up until now.
And they hadn’t noticed.
“Elder?”
Issima said after a moment and she lowered her swords.
The old man smiled at Issima and then saluted Ethan with a deep bow.
“It is a great pleasure to meet you, young man. My name is Edek Konal, Elder of the Assembly of Clans of Thaliss. For the benefaction you have provided to us, I express my deepest gratitude.”
He straightened his back and looked at the two of them.
“And I believe we need to talk about some serious matters.”