A wooden staff clips my backside and forces me to turn around. I spin on my heel, instincts of self-preservation blaring in my head as I try to disarm the smirking figure behind me. My seeking hands don't yet have a chance to land; my target is wholly experienced in evasive maneuvers, knocking my scarred palms to the side with tantamount ease. Next, they slam the spiked staff straight into my upper ribs, forcing the air from my lungs.
I am back in that wretched Hall of Reflections, and for this brutal lesson there's no obscure secret to learn here. I'm failing miserably at defending myself against the dozens of Eardifea doppelgangers that surround me like a mob of angry villagers. The only thing I have to keep in mind is that my opponents share the exact same weaknesses as me, and their combat skills range from competent warrior to ruthless assassin in training.
After I cop a few hits from a straight-faced Eardifea, a reflection of mine that I've grown to despise rather quickly, I start to lose confidence in my actions, my knees stiffening as I move away from the mob. They follow me and then one of them, with staff in hand, renews her assault on me, her staff poking in quick succession at my joints.
I'm kicked off-center and thrust into the floor by this grim lookalike. I barely have time to catch my breath before a third figure of stout apathy takes her place, initiating quick spurts of violence with her bare hands.
There's a terrible pattern that takes shape in no time: once I somehow manage to get in a few hits, there's swift and total comeuppance in the form of another doppelganger almost immediately; most notably that of a quiet-footed version of myself, who will appear out of nowhere, kicking my legs out from under me. And then three to four more Eardifeas will pile on, their blows landing on different parts of my body as I struggle to stop each one.
Blood flies from my mouth as I hit the floor time and time again, my eyesight wobbling with all the waves of pain inundating my limbs. Everything is on fire. My legs have never known such confounding agony, and my stomach has felt the brunt of a wooden staff more times than I can count today. Am I anything more than a training sack of grain at this point?
Eyes tensing with determination, I roll to my knees and then, eventually, make it to my feet with a crooked, blood-laced scowl. I brace my hands in front of me. I jerk my hand forward, egging the other reflections to come again. Soon enough, their torrent of energy sweeps in, overwhelming me proper. But I have to keep going, I have to keep rising to my feet. This is all part of my training. I signed up for this, didn't I?!
My master's voice echoes in the darkness around me, "You're not using your wit, Eardifea. To know your enemy is to know yourself, don't you think? So, what will you do now?"
Every single variation of myself is slightly different, both in posture and expression, yet their hands remain fisted in preparation for combat as I wipe the corner of my mouth with my blood-soaked sleeve... They only move when I do, really. Or whenever I provoke them with hand signals. Maybe I can count on that to put distance between us whenever I need it.
As I'm held back by two Eardifea's on either side of me, I throw my legs out and attempt to kick the reflection in front of me, but she merely blocks it with her shin, as though I'd made my idea entirely obvious. Struggling as I am, there's just no way to go about being covert with my intentions when I can barely breathe through this mottled and bruised windpipe.
All I want to do is run away with Advisca. I can only imagine what he must be thinking about me right about now. Here I am, brutalized so thoroughly by the myriad reflections that wear my face, unable to gain the upper hand.
His whines from outside of the hall are striking, pronounced like the crack of a whip, but talking to him through the bond would be too much of a distraction. I can't even reassure him that I'm fine and that I'm still in one piece. Until Totoya tells me to stop this insidious form of torture, I can't even pretend to put his mental wellbeing above my own. Surviving this exercise is all I care about right now.
Totoya throws another staff into the ring of Eardideas' and it's like throwing a fine cut of meat in front of a feral pack of wolves. We all dive for it at the same time - and after a particularly messy struggle with my doppelgangers, I finally manage to elbow my way to the weapon.
At the last second, however, my hair is pulled back as someone else, a different doppelganger of mine, leaps high above us all, snatching the staff before I can make a grab for it, a ghost of a smile etched on her face. She knocks me back with a straightforward jab as she lands, and my abused legs nearly fold in from the force.
It's her - the Eardifea who's taken the most pleasure in beating me up today. She is the instigator of almost all my broken bones, thereby the worst of all my reflections. Her aura is commanding and resilient, a fortress of dutiful servitude as she continues to knock the weapon against me and around my body, poking at the obvious holes in my defense. As if testing my resolve to retaliate.
With an increased drive to prove my abilities in front of Totoya, I somehow block her attacks with my bare hands. It doesn't escape me how such swift action on my part is not without effort, whereas my unassuming opponent stays relatively poised, changing tactics as quickly as the wind.
"You'll need to be faster than anyone else if you are to hone yourself in battle." My master intones, her face moving out of the shadows of the hall.
She monitors my fight the way a hawk tracks a paranoid rabbit standing on a grassy field. Her legs continuously move around the room, allowing her to gain different vantage points of my abuse.
This horrid activity lasts for hours and hours on end. And then midnight arrives and blesses me with reprieve, but it is a short-lived one. My reflections march back into the frosted mirror from whence they came and my fatigued body collapses on itself, the sudden loss of adrenaline making my legs wobble.
I sleep in a cocoon of pain, waking up to sweat and nausea, my wounds untreated from the Hall of Reflections. I don't want to be healed just yet... I want to become familiar with every single ache and pain from today, so that my tolerance can build and build and then eventually, I won't cry so much when people snap my bones like twigs. Pain and I cannot afford to be strangers any longer. That's the only reason I've been forcing myself to endure the brokenness of my body.
***
Six days of repetition and borderline cruelty turn into a routine that I both despise and simultaneously crave. After that first day of training, Totoya came to the cooking hut and forced a healing configuration upon my body - as a means of preparing me for the rest of my week.
This is what it means to be her disciple. I must endure all manner of things and not question the validity of her teachings.
My pain is in my shadow, even I walk. The ruination of my physical form is indeed the most criminal act so far, something that I've silently borne with a range of indignant looks. But I now see that my mind is grasping the different techniques used in grappling and defensive maneuvers, therefore each hit is absorbed with a rising intent to receive more.
I still don't relish my cracked ribs or the soreness of my muscles, though... It's important to my growth, however, which is why on the sixth day of training for war, my master challenges me to a one-on-one fight.
Our wooden swords clack with vicious speed as we pivot and dance around each other. Agmito and a couple of servants are in attendance, their concerned gazes marking the progress of our fight. Advisca roams beyond my line of sight, his thoughts dripping with hope for my success.
The redhead keeps me on my toes. I have no hopes for winning, this we all know.
But her comment is encouraging nonetheless, "Give it everything you've got. I want your reflexes to be so perfect that you won't even have to look when you fight someone. Hell, with enough time and practice, I dare say you'll be able to fight blindfolded."
***
In the mornings, I meditate and practice using my Divine Eyes to see different auras around Rushing Water Temple. Agmito comes around during that time, armed with his usual selection of fruits, breads and meats so that I'll take a break and eat with him. Seated under a willowy tree, we'll talk about lots of things, topic after random topic passing between us until it's the middle of the day, and then I'm summoned away by Totoya.
I help clean the Chambers of Worship in between sessions with my master. She'll either challenge me to physical fights beforehand, or force me to cast countless, random configurations while balancing on the edge of something. Whether it be a chair, a gate, a boulder or even a lone, wobbly tile hanging just so on the roof. Advisca will be forced to stand to the side a lot of the time, watching me as I fall from high places or when I fail to block projectiles from my master.
She's in her element and enjoying every minute of my education. A part of me thinks she's been waiting for this day to teach a sage-in-training; wanting to pass down all the knowledge from her master and Palloxe Vienarti.
Another week passes us by, revealing just how close we are to the next full moon. Only ten days away until my vision is supposed to come true.
Totoya, after a long period of meditation in the First Chamber of Worship, invites me for a walk around Rushing Water Temple. Her tone and mien are both uncommonly light, and at times overshadowed by a pensive expression.
We end up taking the paths to the Sacred Pagoda Garden trails, both of us commenting on the steady morning weather and its lack of clouds. It feels surreal to put this much energy into faking a good mood, but I don't press her to explain what's on her mind just yet. If there's anything I've learnt, it's that she will divulge her thoughts only when she's ready.
After a while, she stops by a hedge that outlines one side of the path and plays with its leaves, speaking offhandedly to me as she does. "The Ardelthaynes won't settle for peace. Not while I'm still alive."
"They really seem to hate you... Hate the Dowager of Calamity, actually. You said before that the one they're looking for isn't you. What did you mean back then?"
"Old scores."
"I don't understand. As usual, you don't speak plainly enough for the likes of me, master."
She scoffs. "Silly girl. You understand more than enough. The Ardelthayne clans and I are lifelong enemies. What else is there to grasp?"
"You still haven't told me why the Ardelthaynes want to kill you. And I still can't see how their hatred of you would warrant burning down a holy temple and... and--"
"There used to be more of us," she says, looking back at me sharply, a hint of sorrow glinting in her eyes, "Not as many sages as all the other clans combined, of course. But enough to shock the cultivation world with our numbers. We were sixteen strong. It was unthinkable at the time! And all sixteen, believe it or not, were truly the best in all the land. A generation of prodigies. My master would often boast that we were qualified to look down on all the other clans."
My master pulls herself away from the hedge and carries on walking, her dignified silhouette breezily cutting through a shower of freshly fallen leaves. She looks like a goddess with her unfailing, regal poise and her scarlet hair manipulated into a set of exquisite braids, hairpins of gleaming copper struck through the buns atop her head.
I wait for her to keep on talking, to reveal what I've been longing to know for a while. Surely, there has to be some incredible story between the Dowager of Calamity and the Ardelthaynes, right?
A few priests in the temple pass by and offer their heartfelt greetings. Totoya and I both mutter some semblance of feedback that ventures on surprised and needlessly reciprocal in tone. Our eyes meet briefly as we cross into another section of the garden, our personal ruminations all but flashing through our minds as we both struggle to give voice to what we're feeling.
I break the tenuous peace first, speaking to my master with an expression of growing discontent, "I just want to protect everyone at the temple, master. But how can I when I don't understand anything? Don't you trust me at all?"
"It's not a matter of trust, but a matter of time."
We've reached a small set of foothills that stretch below the western corner of Rushing Water Temple. The rugged path continues to curve over each hill like a snake tail, getting thinner and thinner in the distance, until it disappears entirely from view behind a staggering set of mountains.
Pausing underneath a cherry tree, my master produces something from one of her robe pockets. She holds it up for me to examine. It appears to be a cuff made from some kind of purplish stone... Lavender jadeite, perhaps?
"This was given to me by my master... I think you should have it."
I'm already shaking my head by the time she offers it to me. "I couldn't possibly!"
"Every clan has a ceremony of succession, and while I'd love for you to have one, there's no way for us to do it anymore. The best I can do is give you this - as a symbol of your apprenticeship. Please, Eardifea. It would mean a lot to me if you accepted it."
"M-master, I can't." I stammer and start to feel lightheaded.
Does she realize what she's even offering?! The cuff is lustrous with a purple tinge, its marbled lines pulsing with a faint luminosity. I have no idea what its meant to do, but it shouldn't be offered to someone like me! What if I break it?
I continue to shake my head. Totoya doesn't heed my reaction and takes my hand, wrapping my fingers around the cold, hard edges of the cuff. It feels like its vibrating, a faint ringing sound emanating from it as I rub the pads of my fingers over its smooth surface. I can't help but sigh at her dogged persistence, feeling strangely wistful at the current situation.
Totoya mutters in a low and resolute tone, "There were sixteen of us... but only one was ever allowed to wear the Violet Infinity Cuff. My master gave it to me on my third year of apprenticeship under the clan. He said that it would be a waste on anyone else. Realizing what he meant back then, I can only offer it to you."
This backstory seems ominous already. I hold the cuff between my two hands, wondering how in all the worlds could I possibly be qualified to wear this item. I haven't been her student for very long... Maybe I should tell her to wait for someone more worthy to wear it?
"This feels too important for me to safekeep, master. I beg you to reconsider." I say, growing adamant under her expectant gaze.
"I'm not asking you to safekeep it," she leisurely corrects me with a soft smile, appearing amused by my refusal, "I want you to have it. It won't do me much good in the future."
She finishes her quiet lament with a tranquil expression and weaves her hands in a complex gesture, chanting under her breath as symbols start to glow on her forehead. They look like three clouds spaced out in a vertical line. The top cloud sits just below her hairline and has a bird flying over it. The middle cloud is obscuring a crescent moon and sits a finger-length above her brow line. The lowest cloud symbol sits between them and bears a streak of lightning.
At the end of her hand sign, she taps my forehead with both the middle and pointer finger of her right hand. Almost immediately, there's an itch in my skin, right between my brows. I start rubbing the spot right away, finding no relief. The itch remains and instead becomes a burn that lingers like a bruise, forcing a displeased grunt to flap out of my mouth.
She taps her forehead, showing me that the symbol of the three clouds are now gone. Her skin is smooth and it no longer glows.
I touch the space between my brows, asking worriedly, "What's this? What did you do?"
"You're the keeper of the Violet Infinity Cuff now. If the clan still had its elders present, they would all be imbuing the cuff with strands of spiritual energy, as is tradition. I'm the only one here, though; and as the only remaining sage of our clan, all I can do is give you strands of mine," Her words take on a note of pride as she adds, with eyes growing damp, "You have the cuff and now you have the Mark of Succession, as befits the new Heir Disciple of the illustrious Thunder Cloud clan."
"What's an Heir Disciple?"
"The next leader of the clan, naturally."
My heart skips a beat. I shake my head and try to take off the cuff. Big surprise - it doesn't budge.
"I've bespelled the cuff to stay on its owner until you gain mastery of it. It won't leave your side until you do." She says, somewhat cheered on by my frantic, widening eyes.
Me? The current Heir Disciple of the Thunder Cloud clan? All without asking for my opinion... My master is just doing whatever she wants as usual, isn't she?!
I drop my arms to my side, trying hard to accept her newest outpour of information. She's truly like a storm at any given moment. Rather than soft drizzles, she gives buckets of rain.
Pouting, I twist my wrist restlessly, feeling the cuff roll over my skin, asking her in an indulgent grumble, "What does the Violet Infinity Cuff do, anyway?"
"You'll figure it out. That's going to be your next summit of achievement for the next few days. Come along, my dear disciple."
My master turns and heads back to the richly coloured flowerbeds of the Sacred Pagoda Garden, a perplexingly joyous bounce in her step. Conversely, I'm a little bit horrified at her announcement.
Her lessons are always something to fear, and I never know what to think when faced with her merciless predicaments. As her suffering disciple, I can only imagine what lies ahead of me...
With a slight shiver, I drop my arms to my side and rush to follow behind my master.
I have ten days left to prepare for our confrontation with the Ardelthaynes.