Improve Thyself: A Cultivation/Cradle Quest

[Vesvius]

This newcomer is condescending. They are infuriating, refusing to answer a simple request. They are beginning to truly annoy you which is quite a feat in and of itself; you pride yourself on your good temperament and restraint. But…
surrender now offer your stomach it will be quicker
But you suppose their demand is just as simple and, while they've proven annoying, they have not yet shown themselves to be your enemy. Besides- they are an outsider. That makes them a guest. And if there's there one thing you've been taught by your Aunts and Uncles is that one should always be courteous to a guest.

That doesn't make you stupid though. So you don't relax your posture or lower your shield at all as you give in. "I," you say, "am Meng Hakko, Foundation Artist upon the Path of the Silent Summit. Now can you please declare yourself?"

You're not proud of the pleading note that entered your voice without your permission at the end there, but there's nothing you can do about it now. But the newcomer seems to be amused by it; their chest shakes with silent laughter once more. And finally, blessedly, they reach up with heavily wrapped hands and pull down their dark travelling hood.

The newcomer proves to be a woman who doesn't look like she's two days passed Iron, with tan skin and sharp eyebrows, her hair long, brown, and braided into an elaborate knot set in the nape of her neck. Her eyes are a dark blue that edges on violet. Her lips, slightly too wide for her mouth and curled into a friendly looking smile. "Was that so hard?" she asks. "Honestly, I was beginning to wonder if we'd be here until the sun set!"

A headache is beginning to form behind your eyes. "De-"
runrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrun
"Declare myself, yes, yes, I know," she sighs. "I understand."

The newcomer breaks off and straightens up, posture becoming far less casual and more like a way you would imagine a formal courtier delivering news would stand. Your own body unconsciously moves to match it, shield dropping slightly. "I," she says in a clear voice, "am Lyra of the Dancing Lights. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance, Meng Hakko of the Silent Summit." With that she nods politely, places fist to palm, and bows slightly.

Manners compel you to do the same. You have to fight that little part of you that's still screaming to keep your shield up but you do, fist to palm and just as low as she did- something that makes her grin widely, as if you're just too precious. And that's all she does. Your blood doesn't boil in your veins, you aren't attacked now that your guard is lowered. She doesn't even hint at any form of hostility, which is more than you can say for some of your fellow sect members who would find feinting a non-existent attack the height of comedy. Is that because she's just too polite? Or maybe… she can't?

It did not escape your notice that her declaration was very light on specific information. She did not name a clan or family name; not entirely surprising, as not everyone has one. She did not hint at her Path, not unless she walks the Path of Dancing Lights, whatever that would even be. But most importantly, she did not name her advancement.
one keeps secrets one keeps lies one is foolish you are the last
One's advancement is everything. It shows the world how close you are to uniting heaven and earth within your own body, how close you are to the truth of all creation. It is your power, your abilities, your techniques, your training, all boiled down to their purest essence. Your advancement dictates who you bow to, and who bows to you. And this Lyra did not name hers.

Which could mean any number of things. Perhaps she's traveling quietly and wants to avoid notice? Maybe she is embarrassed by her level; she could feel she has lagged behind her peers and wants to avoid a reminder of the wound to her pride. Or maybe, just maybe, she has no advancement to speak of.

It's rare, but in some lesser places in the world, children can be born with less madra than normal and no way to raise it. Here in the Silent Summit a problem like that can be cured with a few petals from a Sunsweet Flower, but not everyone is born with the advantage that you have. Such people are either cloistered away or exiled, sent to meet their death or find salvation on their own. If Lyra is one of those then she likely has far less madra than you do. You could-

You are torn from your thoughts by Lyra taking a step towards the script in the basin. She cocks her head slightly to one side like an inquisitive bird. "I see," she murmurs to herself. "The Delphine is the key to it all. All it needs is…"

She places her foot at the edge of the basin so that it's just barely touching the script. The limb rests on the stonework for a bare fraction of a second before it erupts in a brilliant, blinding light that has you seeing stars even when you look away. When you're able to look back at the basin it's already so full of water that some is sloshing over the sides, trickling down the rock and feeding the parched earth around it.

Lyra steps back and nods at the basin. "Cunning, yet simple! Excellent work!"

...alright. Whatever reason she has for not introducing herself properly, it isn't because of lack of madra.
you are still here you are not running you are a fool
"Excuse me, Lyra?" you ask, the foreign sounding name heavy on your tongue. "What-"

She rounds on you in a flash. "I hope I did not overstep," she interjects, eyebrow quirked. "I certainly hope that doesn't go against custom. Do these scripts need to be powered by your sect's madra? If so, I would be happy to discharge it."

You stop short. Wait, do some scripts function like that? You don't remember anything even close to that in Aunt Rifka's lessons. "No, that won't be necessary. But if I may-"

"Excellent. Now, a question for you, Hakko. You said you hail from the 'Silent Summit'? Does that mean your sect is under a vow of silence? If so, then how are you speaking?"

Where is she getting these ideas?! "Not really," you answer. "None of us are under such a vow. At least, none that I have met. But-"

"Then why are you called the Silent Summit? I assume you live in this mountain, so the Summit part is simple to surmise. But where does the Silent come from?"

...you have no idea. But you can't let her know that; her first impression of the Silent Summit shouldn't come from a Foundation Artist stumbling over his words and failing to explain the origin of his sect. "It is a name passed down for many generations that-"

"You do not know, do you."

It is not a question. Your shoulders slump. "Not particularly, no."

Lyra shakes her head, disappointment writ large on her face. "Then you should have simply said so instead of attempting to disguise your ignorance," she says. Her hand curls up to leave just two fingers extended and you get the sense that if you were closer, you'd be being swatted right now. "There is never anything wrong with simply not knowing something. Not knowing something is your natural state of being; you were born not knowing anything, and over the course of your life you fill that void with knowledge. But if you never admit that you have a gap in your knowledge, then you will only fill it with ignorance. Do you understand?"
look at how you're embarrassed look at how you're humiliated look how easy yo accept your digrace
Shame the likes of which you've only felt a few times before- most notably when you broke Uncle Erling's hand glass- courses through you. You look down at the stone beneath your feet and manage a nod.

"Excellent," Lyra says with a nod. The matter, for her, is clearly considered settled. "Now, help me fill in a few gaps in my knowledge. Tell me. What exactly is the Silent Summit that you speak so proudly of?"

At once your feeling of shame is a ghost of a memory, replaced by deep shock. Wait. Lyra… doesn't know about the Silent Summit? How can she not know about the Silent Summit? How can anyone not know about the work the Highest does here? A high pitched whine fill the air and it takes you a moment to realize that you are the source of it as a nose of pure astonishment is coming from the back of your throat.

You master yourself quickly and shake your head to clear it. Well, she's an outsider. Maybe she's been on a centuries long wilderness sabbatical. Or her family lives under a rock- a small rock, not the large mountain you live under. Or maybe- it doesn't matter how she doesn't know. The important thing is that she is asking, and she wants to 'fill in a gap in her knowledge'. It is your duty to help her with it.

"The Silent Summit," you begin, "is not simply a path through the Sacred Arts. It is the Path. It is centuries of knowledge all distilled down into their purest forms and taught to eager disciples. Other paths may lead to power in the short term, but only those who walk the Silent Summit will ever know true power."

"...well," Lyra replies after a long pause. "I see."
she thinks you mad offer her your knife you that you may repay your insolence with your life
There's something in her voice that says that she doesn't really see. You press on. "The Path of the Silent Summit has survived for generations under different names, for it is the power of the rain and storm. But it is only in recent years that it's true potential has become unlocked."

"Others may flail around, following old knowledge that has remained stagnant, but not us. The Highest blazes our trail and discovers new wisdom every day, and the Elders take that knowledge and teach it to us when we are ready."
do they really
Lyra waits for a moment to make certain you're finished speaking. "Oh," she finally answers. "That certainly does sound impressive. And can only devoted followers of the… Highest gain true power?"

You nod. "Only those raised from birth in the tradition of the Silent Summit can hope to grasp at it. Outsiders are welcome and honored; my own father was from the outside. But those on false paths simply have polluted their core with madra that cannot harness the proper power. They aid the sect in other ways but will not be able to grasp at the higher mysteries."

The newcomer nods slowly. "I see. And what exactly are these higher mysteries?"
hahahahahahahahahaha
You move to speak- but stop short. Truth be told, you have not yet reached the state where you can even grasp at the lesser mysteries, let alone the higher. And while you would love to say something vague and impressive sounding, Lyra just told you not to disguise ignorance.

"I do not know," you admit through gritted teeth. "They are a… mystery, after all. The higher mysteries are forbidden from any whose spirit is not as pure as gold."

"Very well," Lyra answers. "And you say outsiders are welcome?" You nod, and she straightens up from where she'd been slightly crouched over the script. "Then please, if you would be so kind as to show me to one of those with a pure spirit. I am eager to learn of this… truth."
one will learn truth guess which one guess
Excellent! There's no joy like introducing someone new to the greatness of the sect; at least, that's what you've been told. You've never experienced the pleasure yourself before now. But still, there's a skip in your step as you almost run back towards the handholds that will take you back to the ground. "Of course! Come, come! I will show you around!"

You hit the handholds with a fury, weariness a memory, and your mind is racing as you head towards the ground. Where should you show her first? Well, second- first, you have to introduce her to one of the Elders. They need to be informed of an outsider before the outsider just starts wandering around after all. But when you're done that, where will you show her that will impress her the most? The Refiner's Garden possibly? She seemed really interested in the scripts, and the scriptors do most of their more impressive work there. Or perhaps the training ground? You haven't met a Sacred Artist yet that wasn't interested in training in some form.

You're so consumed by your thoughts that you barely notice that there's someone waiting for you in the small tunnel back into the Summit. You move to brush passed them without registering who it is. "Please excuse me," you murmur, squeezing between them and the stone. You get two steps passed them before a sense of pressure makes you look up at the face of the person in the middle of the hall.
the other would spill your blood because of it's weakness this one will do it because it knows you
Dark top-knot. Elaborate robes. Peaked eyebrows. Bangles of wind around his wrists.

You're on your hands and knees before you take another breath. "A thousand apologies, honored Elder!" you gasp out. "Please forgive this humble student!"

But the Gold doesn't look at you. Instead his eyes are locked on Lyra, who has stopped in the mouth of the tunnel and is watching the two of you with crossed arms. Though his eyes don't leave her, his words are for you. "Meng Hakko. Who have you brought to our doorstep?"
a burden who will die soon and also a newcomer
His words are calm, his tone level, but he himself is still, like a great beast lying in wait. The hair on the back of your neck rises as his presence trickles out over you. Your breath catches in your throat even as you try to comply with his order.

You may not be able to speak but Lyra doesn't seem to have any problem. She joins her fist and palm once more and bows slightly to the Elder. "Please forgive young Hakko for any indiscretion he may have committed in showing me the entrance to your home. Perhaps I overwhelmed him with my excitement to learn about the truth that I have heard lives within these walls. I am Lyra of the Dancing Lights. It is my pleasure and my privilege to make your acquaintance, honored elder."

The Elder pauses for a long moment as he weighs her words. But you know he's accepted them when the sense of his presence that even you can feel vanishes. "Of course," he answers. "Spreading our message is one of the most sacred duties of the Silent Summit, and young Hakko is a diligent pupil in all things."

He does not bow, as he should not. After all, you're within the Silent Summit itself, where if a heavenly messenger arrived that the elders did not want to see, it would wait patiently until one was prepared for them. He doesn't even have to say another word to Lyra if he doesn't want to.

He seems to want to though. He clears his throat. "And I am Elder Iraneus of the Fourth Circle. Be welcome within our home Lyra of the Dancing Lights."

You chance a glance up from the floor to look at Lyra. She seems completely unaware of the honor she's just received from the Elder using her name! You'll have to explain that to her later; no doubt she'll be suitably impressed then.

Elder Iraneus turns from Lyra and, ignoring you completely, walks back up the tunnel. "Come," he calls to Lyra. "The responsibility of showing a neophyte the wonders of the Summit does not fall on Foundation shoulders."
become one with the ground and you may survive this
Lyra pauses for a moment. She glances at you and, after another infinitesimal pause, follows the Elder. The outsider at least nods to you as she walks away, leaving you kneeling, forehead against the stone in the entrance tunnel.

You stay in that position for a long time, long enough that you can be sure you're being left alone. The Elder never really addressed your rudeness earlier after all; you need to make sure you've paid a sufficient penance so that he isn't compelled to punish you later when he remembers it. Once you're certain they're gone though, you push yourself back your feet, rubbing your forehead to make sure all traces of the cavern floor are removed. As you lower your hand you turn and stare after the two who just left.
you are a rat that runs and hides but you have lived
Well. Your pride deflates like a poorly filled cloud mattress. Elder Iraneus was right; showing an outsider around the Summit is the duty of someone far higher than you. Only someone with more experience can shoulder the burden of knowing what to show and when to show it, and thus shoulder the honor that goes with that task. You know that. But still. You were looking forward to it.

Your mind grasps for any possible good side to having the opportunity to heighten your honor ripped away like that. At least… at least your afternoon is free? Perhaps you could even have that spar you were thinking of having earlier?
you will fail
It's a paltry bright side, but it's better than nothing. You take off down the tunnel, racing through the patchy light with the surety that comes from traversing a trail hundreds of times before. You make it to the Column within moments and are down at the training ground after a few more.

Unlike the last time you set foot upon these grounds you aren't alone. A small scattering of Coppers are in their designated area, hard at work honing their techniques, and a sole Iron is practicing forms in the center of the cavern. But most people in the grounds are Foundation like you, and they've congregated together in a little clump in their own corner. They're sitting cross legged, eyes closed, breath even as they cycle their own madra.

You rush to join them. Your own power is still thin and wispy after powering the scripts outside; you could use the time to recover. You drop into your own position between Song and Huo and focus on your ill-fitting technique. The world slips away as your focus turns entirely to your core and channels. The madra coursing through you steadily sparks and thickens as you put more and more focus into it, channeling the small sparks of power you got from your morning meal into your natural power.

All too soon the world around you comes back as everyone around you starts to stir. You aren't nearly finished cycling your morning spirit fruits, and your core is half full at best. But to remain seated when everyone else rises would be to show weakness- and that is not permitted. Your rise, acting as refreshed as everyone around you is.

Your acting might fool some, but not Tan. The diminutive girl looks you up and down. "Should we postpone our exchange of pointers?" She asks innocently. "It is not great hardship to me to wait until you are fully recovered from this morning's exertions."
she mocks you
She's baiting you. You both know it, and still you're going to fall for it. "That will not be necessary," you reply. "I am more than prepared."
she taunts you
"Are you certain? I could perhaps spar with Quan? He does provide a unique challenge that-"
you must educate her you must win you must decorate the walls with life giving blood
"I said," you grit. "That that will not be necessary. Shall we begin?"

Tan's satisfaction doesn't show on her face, but you can see it in her body language. Of course she's satisfied; through the will on the heavens, she now has a chance to push the third ranking disciple down before you can even begin to climb to second, let alone her own lofty perch at the top of the mountain. On a good day, you're a match for Tan, with your 'friendly spars' lasting minutes longer than any other pair. You doubt today is going to be a good day.
you are weak and losing to one weaker
You're quickly proven right.

It barely takes five breaths for Tan to put you down for the first time. You don't even see the blow coming; she distracts you with clever footwork before burying her palm- aided by her foundation Enforcer technique- in your gut. You're on the ground gasping for air in record time.
SHE MOCKS YOU
Tan steps back and her face is pinched in what looks like genuine concern. "Meng?" she asks. "Are you certain that you're well? I can call your Aunt-"

"No," you grunt out, forcing yourself back to your feet. "That shall not be necessary. Please; this one has not yet learned enough from the senior disciple."

She watches you for a brief moment and shrugs minutely. "As you wish," she says.

Three breaths. You're on the ground after a combination end in a palm strike directly to your chin.
SHE DEFEATS YOU
The next time you leverage yourself back up, Tan at least doesn't insult you by asking if you're sure again. She rushes in, arm cocked back and ready for another heavy shot. It's so obvious that even though you've just regained your base you're able to block and pivot, overextending her and letting you connect with a blow of your own. She reels from the strike but spins herself, rolling with the strike.

You take the initiative she's offered and rush in, hammering her midsection with heavy, hammer-like blows. One fist connects, the second connects, you rear back for a shot to her exposed face-

And are on the ground again. You blink rapidly as you stare up at the ground.
SHE IS FASTER
When you're able to form words again you say, "Was that the low angle throw Master Masaru taught us last week?" Though she appears upside-down from your perspective, you're fairly certain she nods. "Impressive. I hadn't thought you had integrated that so quickly."

"When one is pursued by hungry wolves, one must be equally hungry for a new advantage," Tan quotes.
SHE IS SMARTER
You nod, acknowledging the point, and push yourself back to your feet. Once Tan is sure you're ready to go once more she moves, lashing out with a kick. You block- and her follow up sends you back down.

You push yourself back up again. And again. And again. Over and over, Tan puts you down. Your body aches from the impact of her tiny fists and feet and from repeated collision with the floor. But still you push yourself back up.
SHE IS WEAKER
You aren't going to win this. The Master overseeing you all today has already recorded the results of today's exercises. You will likely be dropped to fourth, or perhaps even fifth, and it will be some time before you can claw back to your third rank, let alone aim for Tan's first. If you were thinking clearly you would stay down, saving yourself from the dishonor of one who refuses to acknowledge their own failings.

But you can't. You can't for three reasons.

The first is that Tan is starting to look bored. She's taking her victory against you for granted now. She's secure in her own dominance and is now just waiting for you to give in to it. You want above all to rub that look off her face, make her taste the dust of the stone floor.

The second is that Elder Iraneus has just led Lyra into the room. Your eyes lock onto them like a falcon sighting it's prey. The newcomer gives no sign of noticing you, but you can feel her attention likewise hone in on your spar. She knows you're here, and she's interested in what you're doing.
NONORUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUN
A pulse of need rushes through you. Since you've met her, you've shown this newcomer nothing but shame. You were shamed by not finishing your task on the outside. You were shamed by your earlier ignorance. You were shamed by being rude to the Elder and further shamed by being left in his dust.

You will not be shamed again. And as for the third reason...

Tan rushes at you again- and her Enforcement flickers. She's still dangerous, still more than capable of pushing you back to the ground. But she's slower. She's weaker.

The third reason is that you still have not yet unleashed your own techniques.
RUN OR DIE RUN OR DIE RUN OR DIE RUN OR DIE OR KILL
You turn your focus inward.

Every Foundation Artist in the Sacred Summit is trained in the four basic techniques that let them up to later master the keystones of the sect's style. And while every Artist learns every technique, each excels with one in particular. You are no exception.

What is your favored technique?
[] The Ruler technique, which will later grow into the Monsoon's Blessing. Later you will be able to create a squall at will, but for now you'll settle for slowing down everyone around you.
[] The Striker technique, which soon will become the Crestborn Lance. The Lance lashes out from a distance with the raw power of the gale, but right now you'll be striking with considerably less force.
[] The Forger technique, which serves as the basis for the Prison of a Thousand Tears. You will later be able to immobilize your opponent with manacles and bars of water, but for now you will throw up obstacles of forged Madra.
[X] The Enforcer technique, which evolves into the Crown of the Peak. This technique will one day allow you to see the battlefield as if it's moving in slow motion and absorb blows that would fell a lesser man. It doesn't give you those abilities yet, but it still makes you stronger and faster.

 

[Vesvius]

As Tan dives in, fist cocked back and ready to put you down for good, you spare a second of thought for your madra channels. You picture them pulsing through your body, blue and vibrant, raging with untapped power. With a breath, you channel that power and give it form outside of your channels. Around you, the air seems to hum as blue light explodes around your joints and forms a halo near your temples.

You meet her Enforcers technique with your own. Your fists move as quickly as hers. Your footing becomes as steady as hers. Coils of power ripple from your madra channels and into your muscles, lending each blow extra force and power. For a brief second the two of you are like titans striving against each other.

Only for a brief second though. As your technique fully takes form, hers flickers and dies. She has just an instant to be shocked before your palm smashes into her jaw, heel first. Tan crumples for the first time this fight.

She may be down but Tan is a warrior through and through. She pushes herself back up quickly- but this time it's your turn to meet her as she rises. Tan tries to focus on her technique but her core must be nearly empty; she's spent so much time trying to keep you down that she doesn't have anything left for your sudden resurgence. She tries to push you back with a kick, hands raised to defend her face from further damage. You see it coming from miles away and step nimbly to the side, grab her foot, and pull her in. She stumbles and you strike again, hitting that same spot on her jaw.

Again she goes down and again Tan goes to get back up. But you don't fight like she does- you're not content to stand back and let her get back up to a full base. This is a spar, so it should be treated like actual combat. Anything goes here. So as she puts a hand on the ground to push herself back to her feet you jump, landing near it, and kick that hand out from under her.
END HER NOW
She rolls to her back to defend herself but you've already set your stance. The feeling of someone's focus grows on you, but you pay it no mind. You've a fight to win! Blows begin to rain down on Tan. She dodges as best she can but the only thing that could even this now is her Enforcer Technique, and you haven't given her so much as a second to even begin to cycle. Still, she manages to twist out of the way of your first two strike. Your third lands home.
strike harder strike faster make her regret her actions make her know who the better is
As you're tensing up to deliver another shot, you hear a call from the front of the field. "Enough!" bellows an Iron. He isn't focused on you, but rather on the entire group of Foundation Students, who are all in the middle of what look like heated combat.
bleed her take her teeth and shred them against the wall
A ways away from you, Song has Huo on pinned up against a wall, a fist pressed up against his stomach. Not thirty feet from that fight, Quan is barely holding in a bellow of laughter as his Striker technique sparks in his hand, pointing at Shui Dai, who has marks of previous techniques all over her face. And almost right on top of you, Duan Liang has Zhen Jin bent in what looks to be a very uncomfortable position, his limbs held down by various forged objects. It appears yours wasn't the only spar to reach beyond the basics.

The Iron stares at you all for a long moment, begrudging respect on his face. "You have had enough live training today. Now, you will exchange pointers with your partner. Begin now."

You don't immediately reach down to help Tan up. You're too busy staring at Duan and Zhen. How did they get so close without you noticing? Were you that focused on your fight? But after a moment, and a polite cough from the bruised girl beneath you, you flush red with embarrassment and pull her back up. You go to apologize but she just waves you off, sending a suspicious look of her own at the nearby pair.
you would have died had they meant you harm as you deserve
Once you both tear your attention away, Tan gives you a rueful grin and rubs the side of her jaw. "That's what I get for taking it easy on you I suppose."

"That was you taking it easy?" you reply, rubbing your own ribs. Her fists may be smaller but that just means they hurt more. "Then may the heavens tremble should you ever choose to use your full power."

Tan punches you in the shoulder, but it's a light jibe, not an attack. "If I had not felt sorry for you than I would have kicked you in the face the first time you went down, as you well know. But I did, and we see where that got me. My ranking will slide for this."
she raises a hand so soon after her defeat paint the walls with her marrow
The thought gives you pause. "I doubt that," you answer. "This was not an official ranked fight after all, and even if it were, no winner was announced. And I had a very poor showing in the early stages."

"It is not about how your fight begins, it is about how it finishes," Tan quotes. "And of course this will affect the rankings. How could it not? You may rise to second- but I may also slide to second while you maintain your current placement."

She stops, deep in thought. "Did you happen to spy how Dai fared today?"

"When last I looked, Quan had her pinned down with his Striker technique."
she fell to an ape which makes her lower than the ground
"Ah. Then perhaps she will take the large plunge and we shall be spared. We will find out, I suppose. But-"

The feeling of eyes upon you draws your attention, and you glance over your shoulder. To your disappointment, the brown robed figure of Lyra is gone, as is Elder Iraphaeus. You had been hoping to ask her opinion after the fight was over. Instead the eyes on you belong to the Iron who called an end to your spar. You can almost hear his thoughts. You're talking. You're not training.
the lion has changed focus and you are sorry for it you deserve what comes to you
Tan has the same idea. "The flaw I detected is in your stance," she offers. "You are accustomed to fighting with your shield, and so you stand as if holding it at all times. It left your right flank open, which I was able to exploit quickly."

You nod in thanks while mentally reviewing her pointers. She isn't wrong. You're so used to your shield that any fight without it leaves you feeling underprepared. That's no excuse though; you need no weapon, not even a weapon as glorious as your shield is. You need to be the weapon. You will have to close that gap.

After you're done digesting the critique you stop and contemplate Tan's own fighting style. It would be rude to take advice and have none to give in return. "After you get hit once," you say out loud as you think, "You tend to guard the spot you were struck more than anything else. That made several new openings that I could have exploited if I had chosen to."

This time it's Tan who mulls your words over, and she nods in agreement as she thinks on her own actions during the fight. "Interesting," she murmurs. "I hadn't thought of that."
you share words that could help instead of doing what is right
"And," you add, as the Iron calls an end to today's training and you start making your way towards the Column, "you became focused entirely on defense at the end. I have no doubt that there were openings when I moved to finish that you could have taken advantage of."

Tan falls into step with you. "Indeed. Had I been but a small amount faster then I would have been able to trap your arms. But would have are worthless, so I was not."
words are worthless you are worthless
The two of you chat amicably as you enter the Column and start pulling yourselves up. Neither of you wastes the madra on Enforcement, so it's slow going, but it's a pleasant trip. Still, even without the added strain of another technique, your stomach is loudly protesting by the time you pull yourself to the seventh level. You've worked hard today and your body and soul both need to refuel badly.

You and Tan join the throng of Sacred Artists streaming into the central dining chamber and make your way to the Foundation sections. There's an open spot near one of the younger ones who you don't know; you go stand beside the seat, with Tan taking the spot on your other side. You can only hope that the Jade who judges when the Highest won't be coming makes up their mind quickly. You need food right now more than you need to show your respect.

Over the next ten breaths the room fills up with the Artists of the sect. Every Foundation, which you expected. Most of the Coppers, most of the Irons. A good chunk of the Jades have made it even. And-
THE JACKAL
Your breath catches in your throat as more and more elaborate robes enter the room. Elders. Golds. More than you've ever seen in one place before. In the middle of then is a spot of brown that lets you know Lyra is among them. Your brain fights to digest that for a good few moments. If she's still with the Elders, does that mean she was actually Gold? Were you speaking disrespectfully to a Gold?! How are you still alive right now?!

But even that shock is dwarfed seconds later when the simple seat that waits in the center of the room is just…

Filled.
the god clads himself in lies
One moment, it is as empty as you've ever seen it. The next, it's occupied by a man in a plain white Sacred Artist's robe. His dark hair is kept short and unruly, a small white ornament in a braid on the side of his head the only effort put into it. Around his neck is a long string of beads that move silently as he settles into place. On his hands are dark gloves, the only speck of color on his clothing at all. But what really captures your attention is his sheer presence. The moment you realize he's there you wonder how you ever missed him. He may only be sitting on a simple white chair but he seems to be filling the entire room.

You have only ever laid eyes on him from a distance before, but you know who he is the instant you lay eyes on him. The Highest. The strongest Sacred Artist who walks the Path of the Silent Summit. The leader of the sect. A man who has reached the very limits of Gold and still strives for more.

Your hunger is forgotten. Breathing, nearly forgotten. All you can do is throw yourself to the floor as fast as you can.
pathetic
Around you, everyone does likewise. From the lowest Foundation to the Highest Jade, everyone prostrates themselves on the floor. Out of the corner of your eye you can see that only the Golds- and Lyra, who just seems confused- remain standing, but even they sink to one knee as you watch.
pathetic
They don't remain there for long though. One Gold straightens up and walks to the Highest after what must be some kind of silent command. There is a brief pause, and the Gold speaks.
pathetic
"All rise," he intones. "The Highest needs not your devotion. He is only one Sacred Artist who walks this path, and deserves no more than you would offer another of your own advancement."
pathetic
From the tone of the Gold's voice, his words are lies. If you were to treat the Highest as you treat Tan or Quan, you would lose your life in short order. But still, the command is obeyed. Everyone rises back to their feet and focuses their attention on the center of the room.
pathetic
"I am Elder Canus of the Second Circle," the Gold says, his voice still the low intonation of one imparting grave news. "And I have been granted the great honor of imparting the Highest's words to you all. Listen, and carve them into your soul."
he is pathetic
The attention on the center of the room sharpens even further. If it were a physical thing it would be slicing at Elder Canus like a weapon. But the Elder shows no notice and continues to speak. "The Highest sees all and knows all that happens within the Silent Summit, and he is pleased. Every single one of you, from those who walk the peaks of Gold to those who are just now beginning to set their foundations, has been conducting themselves admirably. You think of the Summit before you think of your own earthly needs and desires, and that is something that must be praised. Furthermore, it must be honored."
you all are pathetic
It feels like you may grow wings and fly right now. You've never even seen the Highest before! And when he finally appears, he offers you praise. Sure, it isn't praise just for you. But you aren't greedy. You know you are part of the Summit, and when the Summit is honored, so are you.
you are the most pathetic of all
"To honor your work and dedication, the Highest decrees the following," Elder Canus continues. "Tomorrow, any duties besides those most crucial are to be suspended. Any tasks, discharged. And it shall be a day of celebration, a day devoted to the praise of the Silent Summit and those of you who take it into your very being."
pathetic
"And what better way is there to celebrate the Silent Summit than to practice it's arts? Each advancement will meet in the training fields tomorrow and, under advisement from the Circle of Elders, determine who among their group best embodies the Path of the Silent Summit."
pathetic
Across the table from you, Quan looks lost. You want to kick him. What the Highest is saying is simple to understand! Tomorrow, there is going to be a series of battles, organized by the Golds. The winner of each one gets… what do they get?
pathetic
As if in answer to your question, Elder Canus continues. "And as a reward for proving yourself, the Highest decrees that whoever is victorious tomorrow shall receive a small token of his favor." He pauses, as if he can't believe the words that are about to come out of his own mouth, and indeed when they do, they are tinged with wonder. "They will receive it with the evening meal, which the victors will take with the Highest in his private chambers."
pathetic
You're very glad you're not holding anything right now. Because if you were, you would have dropped it at that.

The evening meal alone with no one but the Highest, the other victors, and maybe a few Golds? Whatever token the Highest is going to offer pales in comparison to that prize.

The Highest looks around the room and his mouth quirks into a small smile. Elder Canus speaks for him. "He is very interested in seeing who truly seeks the Summit. All of you rest well, for tomorrow, you compete."

Then just as suddenly as the Highest appears, he is gone.

Everyone stands in shocked silence for long moments. Even the Foundations tasked with serving tonight's meal are frozen with various trays and bowls cupped int trembling hands. It's only when the Elders start to file out that the spell is broken and food starts being consumed.

Your group eats slowly and mechanically, barely tasting their meal. The taste, the feel, even exactly what you're eating is unimportant after hearing the words of the Highest. He had words for all of you! This will be a day that goes down in celebration for generations!

But slowly, the euphoria wears off, and you glance around at your fellows.

No.

At your competitors.

Tomorrow, you will need to prove yourself better than they are if you want to have any chance at dining with the Highest. This is a chance that you will likely never have again. If you want it, you need to seize it with both hands and throttle it like it's a Rock Snake until it submits.

And you want it. Heavens above, you want it.
the pup mewls for milk where blood would do
And so when the meal ends, you rise, bow politely to your competitors, and walk sedately out of the room- and once you're out, you run towards…

Tomorrow, you must prove yourself above the other Foundation Disciples. The only way you will be able to do that is if you prepare and prepare well. How do you choose to ready yourself?
[] You go to the third level, where you live, and find as many of your Aunts and Uncles as you can. Each one is far above you in the Sacred Arts and they may have little tricks or tips for you that will make the difference in a close fight.
[] You make your way to the training grounds on the first level. You've no doubt that the other Foundations will make their way there in short order. You will prepare with them and get the full measure of their abilities before they're turned against you.
[] There is only one place in the Summit large enough to contain such a display of the Sacred Arts as the Highest desires: the grand hall on the twelfth level. You will head there and get the lay of the land- and perhaps set the battlefield to your advantage, if that's possible.
[X] You've learned all you can from your Masters right now and there's very little they can teach you that you can use overnight. But that's your Masters, and you might have a new resource to use, if you can find her. You will seek out Lyra of the Dancing Lights and see if you can prevail upon her for some pointers.

 

[Vesvius]

When you think about your options, the choice is clear. You've already learned all that you can right now from your Masters. The rest of what they have to teach you relies on your mastery of the Foundation techniques, which while you're well on your way to perfecting, is not something that you're going to finish overnight. Besides; anything you learned from them would be something familiar to at least one of your upcoming opponents. You need something that they won't see coming. But you've a new resource you may be able to use: Lyra of the Dancing Lights. She seemed interested in you. You can find her and prevail upon her for some pointers at the very least. Maybe she'll have something even more interesting to teach you!
begging for words from death itself
There is only one problem with the plan: you have no idea where she is.

The Elders, and Lyra, filed out well before the actual evening meal started. They're long gone, back to apartments scattered throughout the Summit. If Lyra has been assigned a room with one of them, then she could be anywhere- and even if you found her, you would not be able to disturb her. Bothering a Gold just for your own benefit would get you chastised at best and at worst… you're not doing it. It's not worth it.
you are insect beneath the foot of any who matter
But that's just one possibility. You've heard rumors of guest quarters on the second level, even if you've never had cause to go there before. And even if she's staying with an Elder after all that doesn't mean she's with them right now. She could be training. You've never met a Sacred Artist who didn't like training. If that's the case, she won't be in the communal areas you use. She'll be in the higher level fields on the tenth level. Your shoulders ache just thinking about climbing that far. It's worth a look though.

You should get started. And so you do, jumping down the Column and catching on to the second level. A quick inspection of it lets you find your way to the guest apartments; all you have to do is follow the scent of dust and disuse. It leads you to a small section of the Summit far away from the main Column. An even quicker inspection shows that it doesn't look like anyone's been there for quite some time. You barely hold in a stomp of frustration. The time you've spent coming down here is time wasted.
time wasted by a waste may as well not exist
There's no time to pout though. Every second you spend here is a second that Lyra could be getting out of your reach- if she's even in your reach to begin with. You need to check the tenth level. You run and leap into the Column, hitting the wall with such force that you have to stop and hold on as your bones stop trembling. Once you're done shaking, you get your feet under you and start climbing, desperately grabbing at every hand hold like it's your last.
pathetic without help you will fail you will fail you will fall
With every hop, thoughts race through your mind. You're going to slow. She's going to get away. She was never there to begin with. Even if you find her, you'll have taken too long and she's going to brush you aside. You'll lose in the competition. Your shame will be on display. You will never get to even be in the same room as the Highest again. Your mind races, coming up with worse and worse things that are all going to happen to you if you don't find Lyra right now.
you will die alone and no one will mourn you
And so when you make it to the tenth level and race to the advanced training grounds, you don't look at high, beautifully carved ceilings. You pay no attention to the craftsmanship on the chiseled floors. You don't stop to try and feel the Silent Summit Madra you're sure is permeating this room. All you do is glance around like your neck is a wound up rope, craning for any glimpse of someone who doesn't belong here.

Nothing.
as expected from a waste
Your heart sinks as the worst consequences your mind can conjure run through your mind. You've wasted too much time. You won't be able to find your Aunts or Uncles now; they have their own training that they will be deep into by the time you get there to attend to. And you've been climbing so long that your competitors will have already finished most of their own work. Perhaps you could still get to the twelth level? You won't be able to do much there, but at least you will be able to tell yourself you tried before you're thrown outside in a disgraced heap like so much-

Wait.

Outside.
no
Lyra isn't from the Summit. From the stories Aunt Mira has told you, outsiders think living inside a mountain is strange. They actually like the feeling of wind in their face and the cursed sun on their back! Maybe Lyra's outside somewhere! But where?

Idea after idea comes to mind. The farms? No. That wouldn't be an easy journey for an Elder, let alone an outsider. And you don't think she knows where they are anyway. The water basins? Unlikely. She already saw them while she was with you. The outer training grounds?

...it sounds as good as any other idea you've had tonight.
it is a worthless idea as all your ideas are
You leap back down the Column, reaching for the eighth level. As you fall you try and think harder, searching for another idea for when this idea fails too. But no other place comes to mind. If Lyra isn't in the outer training grounds, you will be finished in truth.

Your hand catches on the eighth level and you run, ignoring the main halls, searching for the small little used passage that leads to the open air. You have to dodge around three Foundation and bow and make apologies to one Jade, but you make it to the outer training grounds without too much delay. And the moment the night's breeze reaches your face, you skid to a halt, eyes raking the area.

The outer training grounds are different than any of the other places in the Summit. They aren't as humble as your usual field, they aren't as ornate as the upper levels, instead meeting somewhere in the middle with white stone floors and a minimum of carving. For another thing, they are… well, outside. Mostly. They're almost like one of the water basins you spent all morning re-scripting, with high stone walls and open air above. From what the Elders say, training here during a rainstorm is one of the best ways one can advance along the Path.

Another way the outer training grounds are different from the rest of the Summit? Here, you've actually found who you're looking for.
do not move be still be very very still
Lyra stands alone in the middle of the platform. Her limbs extend in a form unfamiliar to you; something that ends with clawed fingers instead of a palm strike or a punch. She's still wearing her traveling cloak, and it streams behind her in the breeze with every move she makes. As she spins, you squint, looking at her face. Her eyes are shut and a calm, nearly blank, look is painted on her dark features.

You seem to have caught her at the end of her form training. She drops to a seat, legs folded, where she stands and her hands go to her knees. She's cycling.
crawl away bug
You don't want to disturb her while she's in the middle of her own routine. Still, you do need to speak with her. You move on the tips of your toes over to her and drop into a position like hers. You know that some higher levels can cycle for hours on end if not days. You'll need to be ready to wait for a long time, all night even, if you want to-

Lyra's eye cracks open. "May I help you?" she asks.

If you weren't sitting, you would have leapt backwards out of sheer shock. "Apologies!" you blurt. "I didn't mean to disrupt your cycling! I will come-"

The outsider sighs and shakes her head. "That won't be necessary. Just tell me. Why are you here?"
waste
Uh… alright. She doesn't seem like she's upset. Still, you should be as polite as you can. You should introduce yourself again; she's Jade or above after all. It wouldn't be shocking if she has already forgotten your name. "Honored visitor," you begin. "I am Meng Hakko. I was the one who met you this morning and-"

Lyra looks like she wants to sigh again, but she holds it in, even if it looks like it took a force of effort. "Hakko," she says, the sound of your name making your mouth slam shut instantly. "I remember you. I only met you this morning. And I saw your spar this afternoon- which was some very nice work, if I may say so."
praise to make you fat and lazy and weak
Your chest swells with pride. "Oh," you answer, fighting to keep modesty in your voice and your face. Feeling pride is one thing, acting prideful is another thing entirely. "I thank you for your kind words, even if I do not deserve them. My match was a small thing and I spent most of it-"

"Hakko," Lyra cuts you off once again. This time there's definite amusement in her voice. "False humility is unbecoming. Speak your heart."

That's all you needed to hear. "I had hoped you saw!" you exclaim, excitement bubbling over. "Tan had me at first, but I stopped her! I met her own strength with mine and won! I won! Over the top ranked Foundation! I did it!"

Lyra's lips curve in a small smile. "That's better," she allows. "Now. I believe I asked you if there was something I could do for you?"

Right. "I was looking for you," you answer. "You saw the Highest today, and you heard of the competition he announced. I need to win, and I was… er, if I could prevail upon you if it's not too much trouble I was hoping-"
stammering shows weakness
"Hakko. Say it."

You clear your throat. Must be all this outside air. You're not usually this hesitant to say anything! "I was hoping to prevail upon you for some pointers. Just a small thing. Something that could give me an edge in the battle tomorrow."

Now both of Lyra's eyes are open and focused on you. "Really?" She asks. She seems almost surprised. "You want pointers from me?"
she is surprised you would seek from one who will drink your lifesblood
You frown in confusion. Why would she be surprised by that? She's clearly above you. Why wouldn't you seek knowledge from her?

"I thought that that would be 'beneath you'," she clarifies. "After all, is not the Silent Summit the one true path and all that? Why would one of it's disciples look for aid from someone not on it's path?"

Oh. "Well," you begin. "Some would think that. I have several friends who think that any training not from one of our Masters is not worth having. But there is merit in having an outside view look in, I believe. My own father was from outside the mountain, and while he did not rise as high as Mother did, I'm told that he was admirable in his own way. And his advice helped show Mother the way forward."

There's a different kind of look in Lyra's eyes now. "Was?" she gently prods.

Ah, that's right. She wouldn't know. "Yes, was," you confirm. "Mother and Father both journeyed to the heavens long ago. I barely remember them."

"Who takes care of you?" Lyra asks.
people who should know better
You shrug. "Everyone, I suppose? Auntie Mira feeds me and keeps me healthy, Uncle Erling teaches me things a man should know, Auntie Rifka taught me to cycle, Uncle Yang, Uncle Rofan, Auntie Sidonia, Uncle Miroh…" You could go on and on. You've never really stopped to think about it, but you suppose you really do have quite a few Aunts and Uncles.

"I see," Lyra says after you trail off. "But even with your past, others might look down on you for learning things that are foreign to your path. Does that not bother you?"

"A little," you admit. "But I need any advantage I can gain."

"Is the prize your Highest offers truly something so impressive?"

You blink once, twice at her. Prize? What is- oh, right. The Highest said that the winners would receive a token of his favor. You had forgotten. "No, that isn't it," you say, almost laughing despite yourself. "I had barely considered that. No, I need to win this so that I may join the Highest and the other winners for the evening meal."

Lyra seems confused. "Is.. is that an impressive feat?"

"Of course!" you nearly yell. "I have only seen the Highest a handful of times in my entire life! If I were to have the opportunity to be in the same room as him, even if I am not permitted to speak, I could… I could…"

"Learn?" Lyra guesses. "I do suppose that being near seniors you haven't spoken to might allow you to glean some kind of insight into your path. Is that it?"

You shake your head. "No," you answer. "No. I could… I could find some way to thank him."

Lyra waits for a moment for you to go on. When you don't, she prods you. "Thank him?"

You look down at the white stone beneath you. You're hesitant to say more, but you've already come this far. "My parents," you start. "They… well, my Mother did not live within the Summit most of the time. She was an honored Jade, one who could one day become an Elder herself. Her power meant that she could do things outside of the Summit that others could not. And so she spent weeks outside, helping the Summit while being apart from it. I'm told that's how she met Father actually."

"During the course of her duties, Mother… Mother died. She fought someone who wanted to torture her for the secrets of the Path and died rather than give them up. Father died of grief shortly thereafter."

"But then the Highest went out himself. He went and found the evil people who killed Mother and showed them the real power of the Silent Summit! He avenged Mother and, when he returned, gave me this."
you really believe that you waste
You reach out to the empty space next to you and grab your shield from where it's just appeared. Lyra stares at it, and her fingers twitch slightly. "Aunt Mira said that the Elder that spoke for him said that it was a weapon from those monsters. And since they took from me, I should take from them. It's been with me ever since."

Lyra absorbs your story for a long moment, leaving you in utter silence. It's a bizarre silence; not the complete still of the mountain that you're used to. Instead it's a silence of small noises, of wind, of far away trees, of birds in those trees. Looking up, you can see the darkness of the sky and far away, twinkling lights. It's different from what you're used to, but it's peaceful nonetheless.

Finally, she claps her hands once as she comes to a decision, the noise jerking you from the near reverie you had fallen into. "Very well. A small pointer or two. Now, Hakko, cycle."

"Right now?" you blurt out. "I-"

The look in her eye leaves no room for argument. "Cycle, disciple."

You know that voice. You haven't heard it from Lyra before, but you know the Master voice when you hear it. It's a voice that promises pain and retribution if it's instructions are not heeded immediately. You've had enough pain today; you start cycling.

And almost immediately stop as two fingers smack you across the brow. "Is that really your breathing technique?" Lyra scoffs. You nod, hands raised to defend yourself from more blows, but they don't come. Instead Lyra sighs loudly. "It's not suited at all for your channels. It looks like it's designed to widen them, perhaps to make your madra gain a broader flow once you've started conducting vital aura, but for now it's doing you far more harm than good. And by the ancestors what did you do to your channels?"

You flinch under her harsh gaze. "Beg pardon?"

"What did you do to your channels?" she repeats. "The ones in your limbs are irritated and raw; numbed by an elixir I would hazard. That doesn't just happen. Did you take a pill above your stage?"

"No," you say, looking down. "I may have attempted to correct my own breathing technique without-"

Again, her fingers slap your brow. And then again, as if for good measure. "That was foolish," she chastises you. "I suppose you tried to 'go off instinct'? No need to answer, of course you did."

"Hakko, innovation is something to be proud of. But foolish innovation is something that will only ruin your foundation. Before you even took a breath you should have been in your library, studying the principles of cycling and trying to apply them to yourself as a cohesive whole. You tried to… you attempted to write a script without even knowing how to hold a chisel. Never do it again."

"Now, breathe as I do." She immediately puts action to words and starts breathing in slowly. But as Lyra lets the breath out, it comes out in short, almost choppy waves. "As you do it," she continues after a few repetitions, "cycle your madra in a tight spiral around your core. Broaden that spiral with every exhalation, and then bring it back when you breathe in."

You do as she does, and do as she says. It's a simple technique; you're a little surprised you haven't tried anything like it before. But by the heavens is it hard. It's feels like you're breathing through a straw while buried under heavy stones.

But you're not in pain. And your channels seem fine. So this is far better than the last time you experimented with a new breathing technique.

"This technique," Lyra explains, "will not broaden your channels like the other did. Instead it provides more channels in the same areas, allowing you to maintain the same density of madra but focus it far faster. After you're able to do this as easily as your last, you will be able to bring out a technique far faster than you were previously able to."

You stare blankly at her as you struggle to breath. You only understood about half of what she just said. Lyra can see that. "Think of it as… a river. Your channels are like a river running through your body, and your core is the ocean. Are you following so far?"

You've never seen either rivers or an ocean before, but you know what they are. You nod. "Excellent. Now the way your old technique worked, it spread the rivers wider. It made it so that the water- your madra- traveled through the rivers, it spread out. So more water went through the rivers, but it arrived with less force than it otherwise would have."

"This new technique cuts new rivers, leaving the old ones alone. These new rivers are very small, meaning that when madra passes through them, they shoot through quickly. So the madra arrives where you want it to be faster."

...you're still pretty sure you only understood maybe three quarters of that.

Lyra just sighs. "Trust me, it works. Do it until it's second nature."

You nod as you breathe. This is going to take a while. But if you focus on it with all of your being you should be able to have it mastered within days, hopefully-

"Now, what else?" Lyra muses.

"Else?" you gasp. You almost lose your breath and your madra stills, but you wrangle it back under control with sheer force of effort.

"Yes, else," Lyra continues. "What else should I teach you? This is a small thing. There has to be something else that would aid you more immediately…"

By the heavens, she's not done. You had expected this to be it. A quick pointer and you're on your way. If she wants to teach you something else…

Fingers slap your brow. "Spirals!" she barks. "Spirals or we have you do this while upside down!"

...this may kill you.
and you will deserve it
Lyra is offering to teach you something else in addition to the new breathing technique. What would you like her to show you?
[] The basics of a new madra technique! Even if it's just the beginning, a whole new technique could be the decisive edge you need tomorrow!
[] A new combat form! It's not as impressive as a full technique but it's something different that no one would expect.
[X] A trick with your shield! You have the basics down, but you could always use something new and different.
[] Beg off. You've got a breathing technique to make work; if you take on too much, you won't be able to do anything.
[] Write-In (No approval needed from the QM. But if it's a terrible idea, Lyra will shoot you down and you will get nothing.)

 

[Vesvius]

And at last, the new stuff! You may post after this update!
-------
You think for a long moment, struggling with your new breathing pattern all the while, but eventually the parts of you that aren't focused on the rise and fall of your chest manage to form a coherent thought. "My shield," you manage to gasp out. "Do you know any pointers on how to better use my shield?"
all the better to hide behind
Lyra nods slowly as she considers your request. Her eyes glance over the shield in question. "Very well," she says. "What training have you already received with it?"

"I…" you begin, but trail off after a moment's thought. Your mind hops back, thinking about training you have had in the past. Forms, proper ways to speak, your foundation madra techniques, live sparring… outside of some very early lessons where you were taught how to properly hold your shield, you can't recall any lessons you've received in it's use. The little you can do that doesn't involve blocking is entirely self taught. "Not a great deal."

The newcomer nods as if she expected that answer. "Then your Summit shows sense. The shield is rarely used as a weapon, or indeed for any purpose besides protection. Only very specialized paths use it for more, and only a fool would attempt to instruct one in arts which they themselves do not know."

She stands abruptly. "Pass it here."
surrender your tool your weapon give it as tribute
You do so without thought and Lyra hefts your shield. The emerald and steel glisten under the torchlight as she gives it an absent twirl. "Light weight," she muses, and raps her knuckles against the front. The shield gives off a solid *thunk* of sound in return, which Lyra seems to like. "Good material. How does it's bond with you manifest?"

You almost lose control of your breath at that question. You don't remember telling her that your shield is joined with your spirit. So how does she know? It cannot be Coppersight; the Coppers you are friendly with have not known the true connection you have with your shield until you have explained it to them.

As quickly as the question enters your mind, you dismiss it. Lyra is no simple Copper. She's shown that already. From how the Elders treat her, she's likely reached the heights of Jade, and the Jades you know do know that your shield is more than it appears. It's hardly a reason for you to lose your breath.
choke choke on the air let it leave your lungs fall into slumber
Lyra watches your struggle with an amused look on your face. When she sees that you've recovered, she gestures impatiently. In answer to her question you reach behind you, to the sheathe where your shield usually hangs. Sure enough you find it there. You produce it, causing to to Lyra glance from the shield in your hand to her own empty ones.

"Excellent," she says. "Then yes, I have an idea that may suit your own deficiencies well. Stand." You huff and you puff, and your body protests with every motion as you maintain your breath, but you follow her instructions. And when she gives you more of them, you continue to do so.

For the next hour, as best you can determine from the crawl of the moon through the heavens, Lyra 'teaches' you. At least you hope that's what she's doing- you would not dare suggest this to her, but you would not be surprised if she attempted to train you incorrectly as a joke. Lyra walks you through forms that make no sense, has you practice scooping your shield up off the ground quickly for some reason and coaches you on quick evasive maneuvers. All of her lessons are good- save the forms- but they don't actually seem to have anything to do with your shield.
dance fool dance for your life
Still, this is what you ask for. You follow her instructions without complaint no matter how little sense they make to you. And there are several that make absolutely no sense! What's the point of a form that leaves you open and exposed? What possible reason could you have for extending both arms like a bird attempting flight!

After another frankly ridiculous form that has you slowly spinning while bent over at the waist, Lyra finally calls for a stop. You look up at her hopefully. Perhaps now she's finally explain what she's trying to teach you?

There is no explanation. Instead, there's a heavy jar flying straight towards you. You barely catch it before it smashes into your face. Your weary arms tremble under it's weight, but you're able to hold it steady. You give Lyra a questioning look over the pottery. She sighs and gestures towards it. "Drink," is all she says.
poison poison poison poison
Obediently, you lift the jar and hold it to your lips. Cool, clear water pours down your parched throat. It's almost sweet, and it has a distinctly different taste from what you're used to in the Summit, but it's not an unpleasant change. When you have drunk your fill, you hold the slightly lighter jar back to the newcomer-

Only to find that she's now several paces further away. Lyra claps her hands and holds them out. "Now, Hakko, return it to me."

You take a step in her direction only for her to raise one hand to still you. "No, not like that," she corrects. "Toss it. Throw the jar back to me."

"But- But-" you stammer out. "The water! It would spill everywhere!"
better the water than your lifeblood
Lyra shakes her head. "Not if you do it correctly. Or are you currently standing in the midst of a puddle?" You glance at your feet. She… she's not wrong. She threw the jar at you, and not a single drop of water escaped it. This must be some kind of special jar that keeps the water trapped within it with not lid. A script perhaps?

The how is not important. What is is Lyra's instructions. Throw the jar back to her. You gather yourself, rear back, and let loose-

And shower the stone between you and Lyra with enough water to fill a tub. It spreads immediately, soaking your feet with an icy chill. The jar bounces to a halt near her feet.
as expected from a failure
You stare at it blankly for a long moment and then fix Lyra with a look. "You said that it wouldn't spill!" you almost yell, accusation clear in your voice.

Lyra meets your look with an amused one of her own. Her feet, you can't help but notice, are still somehow bone dry. "I said no such thing," she answers. "I said you had to do it correctly. Clearly, you did not do so."

She bends down and scoops the jar back up. She gives it a small shake and tosses it back at you. Only your reflexes keep it from smashing into you- and when you catch it, you find it full once more. "Now. Again, Hakko. And do it right."

...this is training. This is the worst kind of training. It's training that you have no idea how to do!
you know it your body knows it not your mind your mind is the last to know anything
But you're no quitter. Lyra says there's a way to do this properly. You just have to find it. You heft the jar, rear back, and let it fly once more.

And your feet are soaked again.

Again, the jar is tossed back to you, and you don't even let her say a word before you let the pottery fly. Your reward for your speed is a through dousing as the water doesn't even wait until the jar hits the stone to start spilling. This time, you stomp towards the jar and pick it up yourself, not waiting for Lyra to return it to you. You lift it, throw it, and spill it.

Again.

And again.

And again.

The moon moves through the sky as you try and fail to throw the jar to Lyra without spilling it. It crawls past the stars and among the heavens at a glacial pace- but it isn't moving as slowly as your training is. At least the moon is showing signs of progress! That's more than can be said about you.

You lose track of how many times you throw the jar, but it's enough times that you're starting to curse whoever came up with the concept of jars. Water soaks your entire body. Your Foundation Robes are completely sodden, and you feel like you've just crawled out of your lake. The less said about the stone around you, the better. You can only hope that an Elder doesn't come out here any time soon; if they do, you'll be forced to explain how their stone arena has become flooded on a clear night.

Your hands are trembling with weariness as you scoop the jar up once more. The water within it slops over the side as your hands refuse to hold the vessel steady. You let out a sigh as you star at the rivulets that course down the side and over your fingers. This attempt is another failure already. You should set it down and wipe it clean before you try again- but no. A small, yet powerful part of you rebels against the idea.

If you're going to fail this attempt for spilling water, by all the heavens above, you are going to spill all the water. Not just a small amount from weary hands. All of it. Every last drop.

You rear back and throw-

And your wet fingers catch on the pottery. The jar launches towards Lyra, and again falls to the stone. Water trickles out once more.

But not as much. As Lyra picks up the jar and refills it, it takes less time for the script she's triggering to do it's work. There was still some water in the jar that time!

How- why- what…
at last the dawn breaks upon the fool
You catch the jar once more and study it. What did you do that made it retain some of its contents? You hold one finger up to Lyra as you think. "I beg a moment's respite," you call out, all your focus on the jar. You did something. Something that made it spill less. You just need to figure out what.

"By all means," Lyra answers. Her voice is thick with amusement as she says, "I have nowhere to be. You, on the other hand, do have a battle to prepare for on the morrow. So perhaps some haste may be called for."

You do your best to ignore her words. She's trying to throw you off the scent, trying to rush you. For what purpose, you've no idea, but that's clearly her intention. Even knowing that, the thought of walking straight from your sodden training ground to the morning's activities sends a shiver down your spine. But no- you need to focus.

Your fingers got wet, which made your already pruned digits catch on the hard clay. That must have been it; there's nothing else you did last throw that you didn't do three dozen times before. What kind of effect could that have on a jar that makes it retain water better? Experimentally, you wet your fingers in the puddle around you and scoop the jar up once more. Again, you throw it. This time you barely put any strength behind it. Instead you focus on the release and how it leaves your grip.

The jar comes to a rest bare feet from you, and your eyes widen. As your fingers caught the jar, it spun.

You see now!

If you spin the jar, the water within it spins as well! And if it spins fast enough the water forms a small whirlpool. And that… that pushes the water against the sides of the jar, where they cling like a desperate man on the edge of the Summit! That's what's keeping the water in the jar when Lyra throws it! A heavy spin!
she spins water as she will spin your bones from your flesh
Of course, knowing what to do is very different from doing it. You heft the jar up and throw it with the best spin you can muster. It falls well short of Lyra and more water slops over the sides. But far less! Progress buoys your heart and spirit, and almost makes your breathing come easily for the first time since you started tossing the jar.

The moon continues it's crawl and you barely pay it any mind. You know what you're doing. You just have to do it! And by the time it reaches it zenith, you're finally successful. With a mighty heave and a quick jerking motion with your left arm, you send the jar spiraling directly into Lyra's open arms. Not a drop of water escapes it. You let out a cheer as she inspects the vessel, and you almost collapse when she takes a sip after deeming the task done.

You stay standing though and force steel into your spine. "Excuse me, Honored Lyra," you say. "Might I prevail upon you to share your wisdom?"
true wisdom would be running and running and running until your feel are naught but nubs
"Honored Lyra…" the visitor muses. "I quite like the sound of that. What wisdom do you seek, young Hakko?"

"What was…" you say carefully, picking and choosing your words like you're picking flowers amongst thorns. "If it is not too much trouble, I would be privileged to know the goals behind the honored visitor's unique training method."


Lyra looks like she wants to laugh, but thankfully for your pride she keeps it within. "Hakko, are you asking me what the point of all that was?"

Your silence is your answer, and this time Lyra doesn't hold back her laugh. "I believe in training one's skills however one can," she answers once she's done. "Whether it be through daily tasks, formalized lessons, or small skills that can be gleaned from accidents like that one originally was. And as for it's point… Hakko, your shield. Pick it up."

You do so, scooping it out of it's sheath once again. Once it's in your hand, Lyra places the jar down on the stone and steps away from it. "Now, my disciple," she says with another chuckle. "Show this object of torment the depths of your power!"

From over here? What can you-

She's been teaching you how to accurately throw something. And then she told you to get your shield. It doesn't take a heavenly messenger to tell you her intentions.

You grab the edge of your shield and step-

But Lyra stops you. She shakes her head and clucks her tongue. "No," she says. "Not like that. Put everything together."

Everything? Part of you wants to ask her more questions but a much more powerful part wants to see what she's been teaching you. So you move into one of the ridiculous forms that Lyra drilled into you, let your breath come to the end of it's cycle, and step. You lunge, you twist, and you release.

Your shield lances through the air, careening into the jar and shattering it into so many pieces of useless pottery.
you broke it you broke it you broke it
You stare at the remnants of your enemy as you reach out and grab your shield once more. That was a heavy, strong jar that hurt your arms to lift for too long. And you just destroyed it with a flick of your wrist.

"That is the power of the proper stance," Lyra muses. "And of course, most of your foes in the future will be far more willing to fight back than my poor jar. But the techniques I've taught you should be useful. Do not forget though; when you throw your shield, you shan't be able to defend yourself with it. So keep your wits about you should you choose to let it fly."

She looks like she wants to say more, but you're barely listening to her. You… you did it! You learned a new technique with your shield! You can do more with it than just cower behind it's emerald and steel. This is a skill that- no.

This can only be described as a true step along your Path.

A snap of Lyra's fingers in front of your face draws you out of your reverie and back to the present. "Now," she says. "I think it's time for you to rest for the night. You've a battle to prepare for on the morrow, no?"

You nod eagerly, mind still buzzing from your new skill. You haven't mastered it, not by a long shot, but you can work at it until you do! But again, you draw your focus out of your daydreams of throwing a shield at an army and knocking them out all at once, and return your attention to Lyra. She's right. You should sleep. But it would be in poor form to not thank her for her assistance.

You bow deeply to the newcomer. "My thanks for your aid, honored Lyra! I will engrave your lessons into my very spirit!"

"No, no, enough of that," Lyra answers. She looks almost embarrassed by your thanks. "It was a pointer and a breathing technique. Hardly a gift from the heavens."
leave leave leave leave leave
It may have been nothing for her, but it's everything for you. She doesn't look like she's going to hear any arguments though. So instead you bow even further. "If there is anything this humble disciple can do to aide you, please do not hesitate to call upon me!" When it looks like she wants to protest further, you continue. "Doing any less would be shameful, honored Lyra. Please allow me the privilege of giving you one small boon."
this decision will fill your soul with pain
Lyra rocks back on her heels and sighs. Her eyes turn to the heavens. "I suppose I cannot argue with that. You wish to repay me. Then… Hakko!"

Her voice is a whip crack and you find your spine straightening under her regard. "Tonight you became my disciple, even if just for an evening. And my disciple must not bring shame upon my teachings! So as my boon…"

Her eyes twinkle even as her voice stays harsh. "I command that you join your Highest, your Elders, and I for the evening meal tomorrow. Do you understand?"

You freeze for a moment- before a wolflike grin splits your focus. "Yes! I will see you there, honored visitor!"

Lyra nods and doesn't say anything further. Instead she turns and sits, ignoring the puddle in much the same way it's apparently choosing to ignore her, and closes her eyes. Her breathing evens as she resumes her cycling. This conversation is clearly over.

That doesn't do anything to diminish the fires burning within you. With determined strides, you leave the outdoor training grounds and make your way through the Column, to your own humble apartments and into your own cycling. Sleep follows shortly thereafter, and you wake the next morning as excited as ever. The morning meal passes in a flash. You have nothing to say to your opponents right now, and they likewise focus on their own preparations. It's a tense and eager group that walks from the central chamber and into the grand hall.

The grand hall on the twelfth level puts the training grounds on the first to shame. The massive room is dominated by the stone stage, which is surrounded on all sides by seats carved into the walls with skilled technique and an artistic eye. Only a few of those seats are full when you arrive. A scattering of Coppers and a small number of Irons are the only ones there to witness the Foundation Battles. You are, after all, the first and least impressive of the fights that shall take place today.

One Iron that isn't watching is standing in the middle of the marble. It's one of the several that oversees your daily training, and he nods when you approach. In short, clipped words, he gives you your instructions. Everyone pair up. You'll all fight on a different section of the arena at once. You can win by submission, knock out, or by removing your opponent from the ring. When your fight is over, stop and await further instructions.

A buzz goes through the group as everyone focuses on the first thing he said. Pair up. Which means that you have to select your own opponent for the first round.

Your eyes rake the disciples around you. There are twenty five other students besides you. There's plenty of people to choose from.
victims victims naught but fodder crack their skulls and watch the blood drain from them
Who to fight, who to fight….

Who do you decide to square off with for your first match in the battles?
[] Huo Rugong: The fourteenth ranked of the Foundation students. He would be a good middle ground target. He's not strong, but no one would accuse you of attempting to choose an easy opponent should you fight him.
[] Quan Sigdag: The seventh ranked of the Foundation students. He's in the upper half off the students, so he'll be a challenge. And he mocked you after you failed to improve your cycling technique. That must be avenged.
[] Song Luoyang: The twenty-second ranked of the Foundation students. He's one of the less-skilled people on this stage, and he would prove an easy fight.
[] Tan Jaci: The first ranked of the Foundation students. She's lithe, vicious in a battle, and wishes to avenge her loss from yesterday. She is a worthy way to prove your strength.