by eden Hudson
This sobered the boys long enough for Master Palgwe to begin the lesson.
“Today we learn a basic Receive Strike and Return Strike drill,” the training master said. “One partner will attack—without making contact!—and the other will receive the blow with a force-dissipating block.” He raised his hands out in a ready position, then pulled them backward to his chest as if catching something. “Then they will return with their own attack.” He snapped his hands forward in a double downward strike, a sudden blast of wind slamming into the ground before him, blasting away the snow and slicing twin lines into the flagstones. “Again, without making contact! These drills are designed to train your body in the correct speed and motions for real fights, but executed improperly, they can become deadly. Your focus and caution is paramount.”
With a last look around the courtyard, Master Palgwe tucked his hands into his sleeves.
“Partner with another student,” he said.
When Raijin and Yong Lei paired up, Master Palgwe rolled his eyes.
“Take your fighting stance.”
The class shouted as one, raising their hands into Inviting Attack and shifting their weight to the balls of their feet.
“Begin.”
Like the older students, Yong Lei and Raijin began to circle one another. Unlike the other students, Raijin shifted his hand position slightly, going from Inviting Attack to Begging Mercy. Yong Lei grinned and shifted to Demanding Attack. There was no name for the position Raijin made in response, but if it were to have one, it would have been called Screaming Hands.
Yong Lei broke first, letting out a sharp snort of laughter. That set Raijin off and attracted Master Palgwe’s furious attention.
Soon they both had brass weights hanging over their shoulders. It was not an unfamiliar situation for either of them.
Moving through the kicks and hand techniques at full speed with the weights on, however, was new. Before they had only practiced the slow, deliberate series of techniques as Moving Meditations. It was much different racing through the strikes, blocks, and kicks against another student. The weights bumping against his chest only added to the strangeness.
They soon fell into a rhythm, however. Raijin and Yong Lei struck and received back and forth in their little corner of the courtyard. Hair-thin projectiles of melting ice sliced toward Raijin as Yong Lei executed Driving Sleet. Raijin leapt into the air, spinning out of the way, then received the strike with a double-palmed warm blast of Changing Air. He returned with a series of Driving Rain kicks that Yong Lei slipped and diverted with a Shield of the Crescent Moon, the first block any Darkening Skies student learned. They plied one another with more and more advanced techniques, laughing and occasionally making faces at one another.
Then Yong Lei wiggled his brows at Raijin, turned his back to his friend, and did a backflip. When he landed, his back foot shot out in a Torrential Downpour. It wasn’t focused enough for the Ro droplets to do more than sting Raijin’s skin. As they landed, Raijin saw his opening for a surprise attack. Yong Lei was facing away and leaning too far forward, unstable on his single rooted foot. Grinning, Raijin bent one leg and swept with the other, executing a perfect Landslide.
The flood of jade Ro swept Yong Lei off his foot. He gave an undignified squawk of surprise and wheeled his arms, but couldn’t catch his balance. He slammed flat on his back with a thud, his head bouncing off the flagstones.
Raijin leaned in with his hand extended, expecting to help his friend up and receive a few laughing insults before Yong Lei tried to return the favor, but Yong Lei’s eyes were closed.
In fact, he wasn’t moving at all.
“Hey.” Anxiety tingled along Raijin’s spine and up the nape of his neck. He shook his friend’s arm, but it fell limp beside him. “Yong Lei?”
A sparkling cloud of golden Ro drifted from Yong Lei’s heartcenter into the air.
“Master Palgwe!” Raijin’s voice cracked.
The training master looked over from instructing a pair of older Sleet students. When he saw the Ro leaving Yong Lei’s chest, his eyes doubled in size.
“Everyone close yourselves off,” he barked, blurring into a Straight Line Wind sprint. “Raijin, get back!”
Raijin stumbled out of the way, focusing on closing the Ro pathways into his body, another of the first defenses any Darkening Skies student learned in order to protect their heartcenter from tainted Ro or the invasion of evil spirits.
Robes flying like stormy gray wings, Master Palgwe vaulted over Yong Lei, whipping his hands in a spherical technique Raijin had never seen before. The air in the courtyard crackled with the sudden bone-snapping cold. A dome of ice grew over Yong Lei and the Ro, trapping both inside. Real ice, not Ro in the form of ice.
Master Palgwe landed on the opposite side of the dome.
“Class dismissed—except for Raijin.” The training master straightened his robes and tucked his arms into his sleeves. “Stay blocked to the Ro until you’ve made it inside the school. Ming, you will stay posted at the door and let no one through until Grandmaster Feng or I dismiss you. Tae Fin, find the grandmaster and tell him what’s happened.”
“Yes, Master!” The designated students broke into a run while the others simply walked inside, murmuring amongst themselves.
The older Sleet-level students did not hold Raijin’s attention long. Through the cloudy walls of the icy dome, he could see a distorted image of his motionless best friend. The mass of golden Ro drifted along the walls as if searching for an opening.
“Master, is Yong Lei... Did I kill him?”
“Not if the Ro returns to his body.” Master Palgwe lowered himself into the meditative position, face turned toward the dome. “Keep yourself blocked to it. Come. Sit.”
Raijin followed the training master’s order and joined him. He felt heavier than a millstone when he dropped into Resting Meditation, but he held his fists close together over his heartcenter. Already his blocked Ro pathways were sparking and prickling. They did not like to be blocked off for long. Perhaps they could even sense the unprotected cloud of Ro just feet away.
He closed his eyes and tried to focus his breathing, but his gaze kept returning to the dome and the golden light glinting around inside.
Was it the sheet of ice’s interference or had Yong Lei’s skin taken on the grayish tone of winter skies?
After a time, Grandmaster Feng strode out into the courtyard, his wispy white hair trailing behind him like lines of spider silk on a breeze.
Still struggling to hold his Ro pathways closed, Raijin knelt and pressed his head to the flagstones. The grandmaster ignored him, instead examining Yong Lei through the icy dome, then turned to Master Palgwe.
“If he dies, have this one carry him home,” the grandmaster said, stabbing a beringed finger at Raijin.
Master Palgwe gave a seated half bow. “Of course, Grandmaster.”
Without another word, Feng swept back into the school.
Raijin’s heart thundered painfully at the thought of bringing Yong Lei’s corpse to his family. Scenes unfolded in his mind of screaming accusations, weeping women, and furious men.
Before he could dwell on it for very long, however, Master Palgwe spoke.
“You are strong and fast, Raijin. You learn techniques and master them within days, so easily that at times your training seems a game to you. You haven’t yet been forced to take the Path of Darkening Skies seriously.” Palgwe flicked his long braid over his shoulder. “Wise elders say that we all practice our own art and walk our own path. You find humor everywhere, Raijin, it is your nature. In this way, you have made the Darkening Skies your own Path—but this is to your detriment.”
The training master paused as if giving Raijin a chance to speak, perhaps to argue, but Raijin remained silent. Though blocking oneself off was easy to do at first, it was hard to maintain for an extended period of time. The closed Ro pathways in his body were screaming like lungs too long without air. His mind wanted to ignore
the training master’s words and focus only on keeping them blocked, but he forced himself to pay attention.
Inside the dome, the golden Ro roved the walls frantically. Yong Lei still didn’t move.
“We do not practice martial arts to give in to our nature,” Master Palgwe said. “We train our bodies and our minds to do the unnatural. Through the control of the self, we become stronger and make ourselves worthy of the great power this path brings. You must learn to control your nature, Raijin, or you will no longer be a part of this school. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master,” he said in a strained voice. Speaking while blocked took a great effort, as the mouth was one of the many Ro pathways in the body. Raijin couldn’t believe the training master had spoken for so long without any noticeable effort.
Master Palgwe nodded, then lapsed once more into silence.
Time passed. The sky clouded over, and a misting autumn rain began to fall, dampening and dissolving the fluffy drifts of snow around the courtyard. In time, all had melted under the steady precipitation. The droplets alighted on the hairs of Raijin’s shaking forearms and plastered his unruly black hair to his head. He should have been slowly freezing to the ground, but the effort it took to keep his pathways blocked had him sweating. His muscles twitched and spasmed, and his skin steamed in the chilly rain. Master Palgwe said nothing further, a kindness since Raijin wouldn’t have been able to answer without losing control of his blocks.
A glance at the training master showed that Palgwe had one arm overhead in a Shield of the Crescent Moon, protecting himself from the rain. He made it look no more strenuous than lifting the lid of a teapot.
Raijin returned to focusing on himself and watching the dome. Obviously, there was a reason Palgwe was a Master of Darkening Skies.
Just when Raijin’s heart began to stutter and his chest began to heave as if he were drowning, the Ro inside the dome slid from the walls and rolled onto Yong Lei’s chest. Golden light flickered then disappeared as the boy in the ice reabsorbed the escaped Ro into his heartcenter.
Hope burning like the sun in his throat, Raijin looked at the silent training master.
Palgwe’s shoulders slumped with relief, and he let out an inaudible sigh. “He’s going to live. You may unblock your pathways, Student Raijin.”
Raijin let the blocks go all at once, then collapsed backward, his legs and arms flopping out like the vines of a treestar.
When he pushed back up onto his elbows, Master Palgwe was standing, his legs bent in Horse Riding Stance. With the heel of his palm, he struck the dome. The ice sublimated into a gust of steam and blew away in the chilly air.
Yong Lei sat up, blinking and rubbing the back of his head.
“What happened?”
“You were almost killed,” Master Palgwe said. “Due in no small part to your own encouragement of Raijin’s foolishness.”
Yong Lei’s eyebrows shot up toward his peaked hairline.
Raijin got to his knees and pressed his forehead to the flagstones by Yong Lei’s side.
“Apologies, beloved brother. I was careless and stupid.” He bowed again and again, so grateful that his friend was alive. He wanted to laugh and scream and grab Yong Lei by the shoulders and shake him, but the master’s words about controlling the self sounded in his head once more, and he force himself to hold those impulses off.
“It’s nothing,” Yong Lei said, pulling Raijin up by the arm. “Come on, Raijin. Stop that. You’re forgiven.”
“Innumerable thanks, beloved brother.”
“I’m serious.” Yong Lei laughed. “Stop the funeral talk or I’ll take back my forgiveness.”
Raijin sat back on his heels, trying and failing to suppress a wide smile.
“Student Yong Lei, Student Raijin will accompany you to the physicians’ hall.” Master Palgwe collected the ring weights from around the boys’ shoulders. In the chaos and worry, Raijin had forgotten he and Yong Lei were wearing them.
On the verge of exhaustion, but lighter than he’d ever felt, Raijin rose and helped Yong Lei to his feet.
“Student Raijin,” Palgwe said, hanging the weights back on the appropriate racks, “as punishment, you will be caned nine times before the entire school tonight.”
Raijin bowed solemnly over his fists. “Thank you, Master.”
As he helped Yong Lei toward the door, his friend mumbled, “Nine. That’s rough. Imagine what they would have done if you had killed me.”
“Nothing,” came Master Palgwe’s reply across the courtyard.
“My apologies, Master. I did not mean to be overheard,” Yong Lei said with his typical lack of shame.
The boys limped into the school, leaning on one another.
When Yong Lei was sure they were out of earshot this time, he said, “Can you believe that? Nine canings for almost killing me, nothing for finishing me off.” He shook his head. “What am I, a burden on society?”
Raijin thought he understood, however. To live with the knowledge that his arrogance had killed his best friend and he had received no punishment in return—that would have been much worse.
Chapter Fourteen
7 YEARS AGO
The entire school gathered in the courtyard that night after supper, everyone from the newest Cloud-level student to Grandmaster Feng himself. Fat drops of cold rain spattered from the sky and slapped against the flagstones, turning the dips worn smooth over the years by thousands of feet into dark puddles that reflected the occasional lance of lightning crossing in the sky.
Sheltered from the rain beneath her own Shield of the Crescent Moon, Master Lengu, the smooth-faced elder in charge of discipline, read a recounting of Raijin’s transgression, then his sentence.
“Sleet-level student Ji Yu Raijin is to receive three canings on the palms of his hands, three canings on the soles of his feet, and three canings on his back, for a total of nine. One for each level of the path he has chosen. Do you accept this punishment, Ji Yu Raijin?”
Raijin bowed over his fists. “Yes, Master Lengu.”
“Hold out your palms.”
He did as instructed.
Master Lengu held up the cane. With dispassionate efficiency, she administered the three strikes to Raijin’s hands, the water-soaked bamboo bending nearly in half before straightening out with a furious crack across his palms. Angry white welts rose up immediately, burning like handfuls of live coals, the pain burrowing down into the meat of his palms.
He held his shaking hands open to the icy rain, letting the cold drops soothe the stinging. The small comfort was short-lived.
“Kneel with the soles of your feet facing me,” Master Lengu said.
In the grim line of school masters beneath the Shields of the younger masters, Chugi tensed each time he heard the whistle of the cane slicing through the air and flinched at the crack followed by Raijin’s strangled cries. He loved the boy like a dear grandson, but knew that this hurt was necessary. This was the first of many growing pains. Without them, Raijin could never become the man he was meant to be.
As the rain picked up, Master Lengu was forced to raise her voice to be heard. “Stand, take off your uniform jacket, and present your back.”
Raijin did as he was told, his feet screaming in agony as the soles pressed to the stone and his hands shaking violently as he fumbled with the knot in his wet Sleet-gray sash. Each flex and movement of his fingers sent new waves of pain cutting through his palms like phantom cane strikes. Within him, the Ro roiled and churned like violent storm clouds about to burst.
There was no spare fat across his lower back to pad the blows, and the final three strikes drew blood. The moment the last one landed, multiple tongues of lightning forked across the sky overhead and a fervent peal of thunder shook the courtyard. Several of the students and a few of the younger masters jumped.
At the center of the courtyard, Raijin dropped to his knees. This, he realized, trying hard not to laugh, was the only place he could drop without angering any of
the cane welts. His entire body was humming with Ro, and he felt himself teetering on the edge of explosion.
In one huge relieving rush, waves of bone-shattering cold began to radiate from his heartcenter and wash down his limbs. The courtyard disappeared, replaced by a sparkling haze of jade energy. At the very edge of his consciousness, he felt small, hard pellets drumming on his skin.
Hail.
He was advancing.
This time, Raijin couldn’t hold back the laughter.
Across the courtyard, Grandmaster Feng frowned, a forehead crease marring his otherwise lineless, ageless face.
“Well, we can safely eliminate this reckless child from the list of potential chosen ones,” he drawled.
A few of the masters chuckled at his comment, and others hurried to agree. The grandmaster ignored them.
“Many hear foolishness in a child’s laughter,” Master Chugi said, leaning on his staff. “Few can see the wisdom that lies beneath. But when an entire world is foolish, what more appropriate response than to laugh?”
“You dote on the boy because he was given into your care,” the grandmaster said, stroking his white beard.
“It is as the grandmaster says,” Chugi agreed, nodding his wizened head. “But one truth does not preclude the other.”
“Clever words hung on hopes don’t make a chosen one,” the grandmaster said.
Positioned behind the two bickering elders, Palgwe abstained from comment. As one of the school’s younger masters, he had the task of sheltering Grandmaster Feng and the blind Master Chugi from the rain with his Shield of the Crescent Moon. Palgwe watched Raijin’s still form as the raindrops battering it bounced up and turned into hail before pelting him once more. In Palgwe’s mind, however, he was hearing Rajin thank him for the punishment with a maturity and understanding he’d not seen in a student so young before.
To himself, Palgwe thought Master Chugi might not be far wrong. If the boy survived his progression to the next level, he just might be the chosen one.
