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Chapter Nine: MISSION

Chapter Nine: MISSION

Everything hurt. His ribs, from where they’d had an unpleasant introduction to the boulder; his back and sides, from their merciless tumble across mud and stone; and the seemingly infinite blows of Perun’s training sword, which was little more than a long, heavy lump of crude iron and painful instruction. His arms, legs, neck, and everything else ached from the sleepless nights spent in the saddle and the rigorous physical exercises that comprised his waking hours.

In short, Shae was tired, hungry, broken off, and utterly unready to wake up. The booted foot digging into his side didn’t seem to care, however, and he started awake.

“Calisthenics, same routine as yesterday. But this time, do one-armed pushups. Then meet me by the fire.”

Shae groaned. He had enjoyed working out back home, but now he regretted ever having boasted to Perun about the complex weight training apparatuses he’d had access to on Earth. Who’d have thought that the technological invention he’d miss the most on a new world would be a combo rack and a power bar? Despite the relatively primitive state of the world that he’d garnered from Perun’s description, his savior turned instructor had no trouble absolutely decimating Shae’s muscles, cardiovascular system, and mental toughness every single day.

Shae threw off the cloak and rose to his feet, wincing at the twinging muscles in his back that hadn’t had even the meagerest excuse of a rest day in weeks. If asked, he never would have believed that with so little time for recovery, one could accomplish anything other than hurt oneself and regress. But despite all reason, he’d seen nothing but steady improvement in all areas of his physique, mental acuity, and stamina. He didn’t have access to the traditional means of testing his strength that he preferred on Earth, but despite the lack of sleep and the constant travel, he felt strong.

In the dim, predawn light, Shae watched Perun stalk away towards the campfire, then set to burning bundles of sticks and herbs, muttering words that Shae could not hear into the rising tendrils of smoke.

In a world where people prayed to ancient gods like in the dark ages and believed firmly in their existence, Shae, an atheist, felt as lost and confused spiritually as ever he had in the forest. He hadn’t the slightest clue how to navigate the moral and existential implications of such a reality, and so, for now, he ignored it and focused on something he did understand. Jump squats.

Shae grabbed his heavy metal training sword from beside where he slept and stood, locking his arms out over his head. Squatting down until his glutes were nearly touching his ankles, he pushed into the ground with all the strength his legs could muster. He sprung from the crouch and leapt vertically several feet into the air, keeping the sword outstretched the whole time. He landed on the balls of his feet, his supple calves absorbing the impact as he crouched back down into a full-depth squat. Now only one hundred ninety nine more.

Legs burning, shoulders and triceps on fire, Shae dropped to his face and began busting out one-armed pushups; in the hand tucked behind his back, he held his practice sword. I could only do ten or so each side before, but now I'm easily getting to twenty without resting.

His balance had improved dramatically alongside his strength, and his motions were becoming far more fluid and efficient than they ever were when he’d played sports on Earth. After the pushups, he found a suitable tree a couple dozen yards from the campfire, and began to climb.

Looping his legs over an outstretched branch, Shae hung upside down by his knees, sword held over his head five or six feet off the ground. Five hundred toe-touches later, he let go with his legs and flipped onto his feet, nearly sticking the landing but losing balance and staggering back a step. Damn. Next time. He checked over his shoulder to see if Perun had been watching, but the large warrior was still hunched over the fire, whispering into the smoke.

After sidling over to another tree, this one with a head-high branch hanging out parallel over the ground, he completed two hundred pullups in just under twenty-five minutes. Then came his favorite part. Shae squared up with the tree, his sword held before him in both hands.

Closing his eyes, he focused his attention inward, finding the spark of rei within himself. It had been nearly impossible trying to visualize it at first, but after the first few days of failed meditation, he found that casting his mind back to his yoga classes and the breathing exercises he’d learned there was a huge help.

Finding the swirling wellspring of rei within himself, he stoked it with his mind, encouraging it to course through his body. It was a little like courting a wary cat, or befriending a shy stranger. Too much force, and it would evade him. He had to approach slowly, carefully, but with confidence as well. Shae had to hold out his hand and let the cat come to him. With every deep inhalation, the rei grew, expanding outwards. He could feel it suffusing his insides, a subtle warmth like sunlight kissing his skin, but spread across the surface of his whole body. The burn of lactic acid buildup in his muscles began to fade, and a gentle calm washed over him, his mind sinking deeper into a trance of calm with every breath.

Stolen novel; please report.

The internal world he inhabited when meditating on his rei was an almost entirely unique experience; it felt like he was lucid dreaming, able to navigate and explore a whole new universe within himself. He loved the feeling: craved it.

Slowly, Shae raised his sword, eyes still closed. He felt its weight in his hands, felt the flexing and relaxation of muscles and tendons as they worked in unison to move his arms, his shoulders, adjusting and compensating for the additional weight and balance of the sword.

Channeling his rei gave him a heightened awareness of his bodily functions, both his internal workings and how he was positioned in space. The whispering wind on his skin was a poignant touch, the scent of trees and leaves and the heady woodsmoke from Perun’s fire were all amplified; he could even feel his weight pressing against the ground and the air coursing through his lungs as keen sensations, no longer only present at the edge of his awareness, but close at hand and easily examined.

Shae stepped forwards at an oblique and swung his sword through the air, slicing downwards at the tree. Connecting sooner than he’d expected, Shae readjusted, his mental landscape of the world surrounding him updating in his head. He changed the direction of the sword, swinging from low to high. As he’d hoped, the tip of the wooden blade connected with bark, leaving a small gash in the tree’s skin. Pivoting on his lead foot, his right leg drew an arc in the dirt as he chambered for a thrust.

An hour passed, but to Shae it felt like little more than a few minutes. Opening his eyes, sweat beading his forehead and plastering his shirt to his back and chest, Shae lowered the sword. His breathing was coming fast and heavy now, and he lost control of his rei, pain and weariness returning in force. I’m getting better. A lot better. Maybe I can convince Perun to spar with me again today.

Mopping his brow with the back of his hand, Shae sidled over to the campfire where the big man waited. Plopping down on a rock opposite his companion, Shae accepted a bowl from Perun’s outstretched hand. Looking up at the sky, Shae noted that the suns had made quite a bit of progress since he’d awoken hours before in the near darkness of early morning.

Perun rose from his seat by the fire and turned to survey the terrain around them as Shae lifted the bowl to his lips and began to eat the soup. They were in the foothills now, the craggy plains a distant memory and the towering mountains looming overhead. The day before, Perun had set their horse free on account of the mountain passes being too steep and treacherous for horseback and to acclimatize Shae’s body to long days of hard hiking.

Shae lapped up the soup in loud, slurping mouthfuls as he watched Perun’s back, sword slung over his shoulders. They hadn’t spoken much, despite Shae’s efforts. On Earth, little would have sounded more appealing than a long walk with a close friend, hours passing in exertion and conversation. But Perun was quiet, only speaking to answer Shae’s direct questions and only when they related to training, rei, swordsmanship, or, if he was lucky, broader questions about the world. At times, it felt as if Perun were ignoring him. But then and again, Shae would catch Perun observing him intently while he ate, or earlier when he would tend to the horse, and he would always look away, pretending as if he hadn’t been watching him.

Despite his companion’s reserved nature, Shae enjoyed his company and made constant efforts to win him over through rapt attention during instruction and extreme effort during his training. Shae would be the first to begin preparing their campsites, always taking on the most physically demanding and tedious tasks. Despite his naivety when it came to this new world, Shae tried to take matters into his own hands. He had to become as competent and capable as quickly as possible if he was to make it back home, and for that, he needed Perun’s support.

So it came as a great relief when Perun initiated a conversation.

“We’re out of meat. I tracked a mumat this morning to a small cave a few miles north of here. There’s a big tree out front. Go kill it, and get me when you’re done.”

Not the intellectual, heart to heart exchange that Shae had been hoping for, but something was better than nothing. Shae had been waiting for an opportunity to prove himself to Perun, to win him over, but this would delay their progress towards the Sisters. He was torn. Getting home was his top priority, and this would slow them down. But on the other hand, Perun was finally testing him. Shae had no idea what a mumat was or if he would even be able to fight it, and he didn’t particularly want to go.

What eventually made up his mind was the possibility of sparring with Perun if he was successful. Despite his burning desire to return to his family, there was something transcendently alluring about fighting with the man. On Earth, he’d never sparred much, but the one fight and his rigorous training with the sword and rei here had been some of the most lucid moments of his entire life, and he craved it. He didn’t know exactly how he felt about that fact, so he tried not to think about what it implicated about himself as a person.

Instead, he set his bowl on the ground, rose, agreed to Perun’s request, and gathered his things. If he were to cover whatever Perun considered “a few” miles while there was still light, he better get moving.