by Guy Antibes
For the past week, they spent mornings visualizing whatever their mentor told them. She would give them a scene, and they would close their eyes and attempt to be in the scene. Then she would give them moves to practice. As they continued, the moves were to be faster and faster.
Jack had no idea what the others were thinking of, but he always pictured the scene being in one of the gods’ living spaces. He generally thought of himself in Eldora’s woods, if he could.
The voice of the mentor would move around the room while Jack carried out her instructions. He didn’t understand how thinking would change the way he moved, but something had to bring the speed the warrior exhibited.
He felt someone slip his headband off his head. Jack opened his eyes.
“Hey!” he said. He opened his eyes and tried to retrieve the band that covered the white mist mark on his forehead.
“What is that?” the mentor said to him.
Others opened their eyes and looked at Jack. A few of them gasped.
“It is the mark of Akkora!”
Jack sighed. He had thought the mark would fade away before someone knocked the headband off. Jack laughed. “It’s just a scar,” he said.
Their mentor leaned over and rubbed the “scar” with her thumb.
“Come with me,” she said.
Jack looked plaintively at his friends, but they just shrugged.
“You didn’t tell us about your scar,” Helen said, plainly enough for all to hear.
Jack shook his head and sighed as he followed the woman out of the room. She led him to Torii Ishoru’s audience chamber. The leader of the academy sat at the back as he listened to two of his people. Perhaps they were reporting something. Jack didn’t know, and at this point, he didn’t care.
“You brought one of the Corandians. Has he been misbehaving?”
“Look at his forehead.”
Jack wanted to shrink back, but he knew that would be a sign of weakness, and he didn’t consider his embarrassment about the mark something to be embarrassed by, but something better kept secret.
“Akkora’s mark?” one of the men said.
The mentor nodded her head.
“Come closer,” Torii said, rising from his cushion. He looked up at Jack’s forehead. “How long have you had this?”
“I acquired it on the way to Yomomai,” Jack said. “It doesn’t do anything.”
“It signifies that you are truly one of Akkora’s blessed. No one living in Masukai has a mark like you, although there are writings of past heroes.”
“I’m no hero,” Jack said.
“That remains to be seen,” Torii said.
“He was wearing a headband,” the mentor said. Her tone of voice was like someone tattling on him. She lifted Jack’s headband in her hand.
“Then why don’t you give it back to him?” Torii said. “He had reasons for keeping his forehead covered, and I suppose it was to avoid a scene like this.” Torii Ishoru turned to Jack. “Isn’t that correct.”
“Very correct,” Jack said.
The mentor handed the headband back to Jack. “What are we going to do?”
“We already know he is Akkora’s, so nothing, unless he has been given a message for us.”
“She didn’t,” Jack said. “Akkora just wanted to say hello.”
The two men who were still seated chuckled.
Jack smiled, but then he wiped the grin off his face and gave each of them a bow. “She told me to be wary. Danger can come from anywhere. With all respect to the goddess, I didn’t need to be told.”
“As you said, she wanted to welcome you to Masukai, and she did so with the truth. Akkora put you in a bit more peril. I have only read of members of the Pearl Mist wearing her sign. We are hers, too, you know.”
Jack gave Torii a bow. “I do know.”
“Take him back to your class with the headband on, and please tell your students not to spread the news.”
The mentor bowed. “I will follow your command.”
Torii waved his hand to shoo them out of his chamber.
When they were back out in the corridor. The mentor bowed to Jack. “Forgive me for exposing you.” She had never spoken to him with respect before.
“No need. You were doing your work, and my headband was a distraction.”
“Good,” said the mentor, looking relieved.
They entered the classroom. Jack took his place, and the mentor began barking out the next meditation scenario, treating Jack as if nothing happened.
Tanner didn’t wait for a moment when they broke for their midday meal.
“You really need to grow bangs,” Tanner said, laughing.
“No. I’ll just have to deal with it. Maybe I’ll cover it with a black dot.”
Helen leaned over. “When did you see your first Masukaian with a tattoo of any kind?”
“I haven’t,” Jack said.
“Then just keep with the headband,” she said, “and don’t worry about it.
~
Another Pearl Mist warrior met them during two weeks of meditation exercises and led them to the practice facility. This time they were handed iron rods that were heavier than a sword. He had them spread out.
“Close your eyes,” he said. “Go to your favorite scene and tell me when you are there by raising your hands.”
Jack quickly went to Eldora’s woods and raised his hand.
“Now follow my orders. You will move as fast as you did when you meditated.”
Jack had his doubts this technique would work, but they did as he was told. While he worked, the warrior tapped him on the shoulder and whispered in his ear.
“Watch the others. You were moving as fast as they.” He quickly barked out the next move.
Jack opened his eyes and was surprised. Even Tanner and Helen were carrying out the orders more quickly.
The warrior nodded and closed his eyes, pointing at Jack. Jack supposed that was an order to continue to move. For as much as Jack tried, he couldn’t duplicate the feeling with the iron bar and became slower. He noticed more pauses in the warrior’s orders, guessing he was telling the others to observe. He wondered what the last person would see.
“That is enough for today. I won’t go over what you observed, but you will continue your meditations for an additional week before we gather again. It is time for dinner.”
They all bowed to the warrior who bowed back before leaving them in the room. Jack tried to recapture the meditation moment but couldn’t quite do it. He noticed others trying the same thing, including Tanner and Helen.
They gave up and walked to the dining area.
“Were you as fast as the others?” Helen asked Jack. “You didn’t look it to me.”
Jack smiled. “The warrior said I was, and I believe him. I could feel it in my swings. Once he showed me the others, I couldn’t recapture that feeling. Is that their secret?”
“Part of it,” Tanner said. “I’m guessing, but there is more. The style of their swordplay is another.”
“You were just as fast as the boys,” Helen said to Tanner.
“That is my dream, my sweet.”
The meditation went on for another two weeks before they were summoned back to the practice hall.
“We will do the same exercise. I will not be interrupting this time.”
Two more warriors, a man, and a woman walked into the hall. They conferred with the instructor and spread out a bit. Observers, thought Jack.
The exercise began. Jack felt a tugging in his mind. Coercion. It wasn’t strong, but it was there. He resisted and realized that Tanner and Helen both wore anti-coercion objects. Jack had made Helen’s, and Fasher had given one to Tanner.
The first instruction was called out. Jack missed it, but he quickly achieved the meditation state he wanted, standing on the grass in Eldora’s glade. He could feel his speed increase as he matched up his mental speed with his physical speed.
He felt another tug but continued on with his e
yes closed. He felt a tap on the shoulder and opened his eyes. The woman pulled him out from the line.
“Watch,” she said.
Helen and Tanner’s speed remained the same, but the other trainees seemed to slow down at points and speed up at others. Jack smiled. He knew what the trainers were doing.
The class was dismissed except for Tanner, Helen, and Jack. The three warriors stayed behind.
“I know what happened,” Jack said to their trainer. “You can slow up your opponents, can’t you? We can be made to go a little faster, but the big difference is caused by a spell to slow things up. My friends could have been killed.”
“But they weren’t,” the warrior said.
Jack looked at Helen. “When you went on your test, did you wear your ring?”
Helen shook her head.
“We were told to take everything off before donning our attack uniforms,” Tanner said.
“Including Fasher’s gift?” Jack asked. He looked at the smiling warrior.
“I did.” Tanner bowed his head. “Yes, you are right, Jack.” He looked at the three warriors. “Why did you separate him?”
“He has already been tested. Jack Winder cannot be coerced.”
Helen barked out a laugh. “Of course, he can’t. He is Akkora’s blessed.”
“And you are wearing charms that you didn’t take with you. Am I right?” the trainer said.
“Yes,” Tanner said. “And I’ll not go out to fight without it again.”
The trainer bowed deeply. This was an apology bow, thought Jack. “We did not know about the charms. It is our fault you sustained your injuries. We put you at a disadvantage.”
Helen shook her head but put fists on her hips. “Tanner just about died.” She didn’t mention the injuries she suffered. “Don’t put us in a situation like that again. We are willing to fight as long as it is fair.”
Even though the other two warriors barely showed it, Jack was certain they were just as embarrassed.
One of them said. “The meditation technique has improved your speed, nevertheless. Now you two are ready for real Pearl Mist training.”
“What about me?” Jack said. “Haven’t I improved?”
“Torii Ishoru has other plans for you,” the trainer said.
Chapter Fifteen
~
T here were no other plans for another week while Jack still trained with Helen and Tanner and attended the same small class on Masukaian language and customs for just the four of his group. Torii Ishoru interrupted the language session.
“I will be taking the two wizards,” Torii said. “Tanner Simple will remain and get additional wizardry training from Okiku.”
“I feel left out,” Helen said.
“You will train with Simple,” Torii said. He bowed to their instructor as he showed Jack and Grigar to the sliding door.
They followed the leader of the Yomomai academy of the Pearl Mist to his chambers and had them sit in front of him along with Namori Ganshi.
“You will be traveling to Deep Mist for further training,” Torii began. “You will travel on your own south through Masukai to the southern steppes.”
Jack had to think of the Masukai map. The southern steppes were an arid region of grasslands and desert that ran all the way to the Bottom Sea.
“Will Namori Ganshi be guiding us?” Grigar asked, looking at Namori and then at the Pearl Mist leader.
“No. You will travel on your own.”
“A test?” Jack asked.
“If you want to count it as a test, then it is. You won’t receive Deep Mist training if you don’t arrive there,” Torii said. “We will outfit you with horses, different clothes more suited to traveling to the south, and a packhorse. You will exchange your gold Corandian coins for Masukaian money.”
Jack was about to joke that he didn’t know the exchange rate, but he kept quiet. Torii Ishoru didn’t have much of a sense of humor in his role as a leader. The gods had more emotion than the Pearl Mist leader did, so Jack kept his mouth shut.
“You will have your hair dyed black and begin wearing it tied back like any other Masukaian,” Torii said.
Jack was about to raise his arm to object, but Grigar held it down. “We need to fit in, not stand out,” the Lajian said.
“You see?” Torii said. “Age brings wisdom.”
Jack immediately thought of the other side of his comment…foolish youth. He kept quiet. “When do we depart?”
“Tomorrow at midday. We have to prepare new ranking cards with Masukaian names. Do you have any questions?”
“Not now. I suppose Namori can answer a few?”
“Less than you think. She will help you make preparations for your journey. I won’t hold you any longer. I’m sure you have much to do.”
That was a dismissal. Jack rose to his feet and helped Grigar. The three of them bowed to Torii Ishoru before they turned and left the man’s chambers.
“A hat isn’t good enough anymore?” Jack said.
“Your hair is long enough to pull back, and the headband that you insist wearing is more appropriate without a hat,” Namori said.
Jack would be the first to admit that. He had never noticed a Masukaian wearing both at the same time as he did when he was outside, which had been rare in the weeks of training in Yomomai.
Namori smiled. “Even you can lose a little gray, if you wish, Grigar,” she said.
“It will take years off my appearance, right?” Grigar grinned at her.
“You wish,” Jack said and gave the older man a very gentle nudge. “It isn’t that we weren’t told we could end up at Deep Mist. I didn’t expect to be kicked out of the academy and made to make our own way.”
“I will ride with you to just outside the city,” Namori said. “It wouldn’t be fair to push you out of the academy in the middle of a strange city.”
“That means the rest is fair?” Jack asked.
“Fairer,” she said. “I’ve never had the opportunity to attend our academy at Deep Mist, so I can’t tell you much, but the farther south you go, the fewer people and the easier it is to find your way, so I was told.”
Jack didn’t put much faith in third-hand accounts. History books were full of lies and intentional misdirection. He didn’t believe that Masukai was an exception. Jack and Grigar would have to take things as they came. That didn’t put off Jack. All his errands were like that.
Namori led Jack to a place with real chairs and basins. A few people were getting their hair trimmed, but not cut. Most people in Masukai wore their hair long, but there were different styles. Perhaps the Pearl Mist had warriors go out with different hairstyles as a mild disguise. He shrugged his shoulders since he really didn’t know.
A man walked into the room wearing an apron.
“These men need their hair dyed?”
Namori nodded. “They will need to pull back their hair. You will have to show them how.”
Jack sat down, anxious about the reaction when the man removed his headband, but the hairdresser didn’t say a word other than a barely audible grunt of some kind. He then worked on Jack’s hair, putting in something that looked like black mud in his hair and rubbing it around. He even slathered some of the stuff on his eyebrows.
“You will have to shave every day,” the man said, or your lighter hair color will be revealed. Mostly this coloring is used on those going gray wanting to look younger, more like your friend. We can’t do anything about your eyes, but there are lighter-eyed Masukaians, especially in the south where you will be heading.”
The hairdresser knew of their destination, but then he supposed most of the Pearl Mist knew about the Deep Mist academy. The man washed Jack’s hair five or six times and dried it with a towel.
“I will show you how to wear it after I finish with your friend.”
Grigar’s hair had grown much faster than Jack’s, but his was already a dark brown shot through with quite a bit of gray. They sat for a bit while the hairdresser clean
ed up the area he used for both of them and left. He returned, carrying a small box.
“These are hair ornaments used by men.”
Jack looked inside. It was divided. “The differences are?”
“One is for wizards, and one is for warriors. The older of you is a wizard, and from what I understand, you can choose either.”
“Warrior,” Jack said. Even though he wasn’t the greatest warrior, he wasn’t above a bit of misdirection, himself.
Grigar picked a thin leather band with a silvery needle thing to hold the band in place.
Grigar held up the needle. “What do you call this?”
The hairdresser laughed. “Hair stick, a pick, a pin.” He shrugged. “Different names. The band is generally called a hairband. Simple.”
“Something to match my wrist guards,” Jack said. He picked a black band with a blue pick that was close to the blue cuff on his ice bracer. He didn’t think a splash of red would be right if their supposed enemies were Red Herons.
“Watch how it is done. First, the older man, and then you.”
Jack was surprised at how simple when the man twisted Grigar’s hair and stuffed it in the band before sliding in the pick, but when he had to do it himself, the thing kept falling down.
“You don’t have a lot of hair, so don’t roll it up. Just gather your hair and slip it through the band and pin it next to your skull. You’ll have a ponytail, but that isn’t uncommon, especially among warriors. Here is how to make the band thinner.” The hairdresser showed Jack the other holes that could be used to re-size the diameter of the hairband. He brought out a mirror.
“I look more like a Masukaian this way.”
“A bit more. Don’t delude yourself,” Namori said. “No one will mistake you for a native if they are close up, but if you are five or ten paces away, that is probably good enough.”
“Your Masukaian is very good and will be passable in the south where they speak more dialects,” the hairdresser said.
That was the first compliment Jack had had on his language skills.
Namori took them to a clothing dispensary. Their clothes were waiting.
“I will have to show you how to dress,” she said. “You will undoubtedly get more instruction in Deep Mist, but there are a few flourishes that warriors and wizards generally do.”
