The figure was tall and lean and moved with a long, distance-closing stride. Their face could not be seen from beneath the shadows of the wide-brimmed white hood.433Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzf5KIA1wmZ
Heart pounding in his chest and still reeling from his nightmarish unconsciousness Eihm staggered to a walk, a painful trot, and then a panic-driven run away from the approaching figure. Gasping for breath and heaving his body along he tried to outrun the white pursuer, but whenever he looked back the white silhouette seemed only ever-closer. He ran for what seemed like an interminable flight, but when the sun’s heat beat down upon him from its zenith and he found that he had unintentionally fled to a bank along the river he had walked beside before, he could not resist the cool temptation of the flowing water. He collapsed to his knees and gulped down the muddy water. As the water cooled his belly and blood, his heartbeat began to slow and he caught his breath.
“I can’t keep this up… I’m too tired. Whoever that is, they must be from the monastery. They’re probably not here just to chat, but I bet I can still talk with them somehow before I might have to fight. I don’t know if I’d win. But if I have to,” he glanced at the tattoos on his arms, “I might just have an advantage.”433Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxK3KdugtBC
Whatever the future held for the young monk, he could feel a familiar feeling, deep within himself, that the next moments would define his life. He had been trained to recognize these moments in life, a nexus of personal fate. There was nothing he could do to prepare himself; the pursuer would be on him in an hour or two. And so he attempted the only thing that his training had taught him would help: He settled himself on the sandy part of the river bank and attempted to meditate – to immerse himself in this moment, the nexus of his fate.
It was a torturous hour of silence. He refused to speak, and shut his eyes to diminish the distractions of the outside world. Steady breath focused through the throat, into the stomach, extending the diaphragm, filling the lungs, and then reversed in exhalation. A calming mantra that vibrated through the roof of his mouth into his skull. A series of hand gestures to channel the energy within him, slowly and methodically, tempered through his intention.
It was all seemed to be futile attempts. While his inner sanctuary remained in chaos he could not truly center his intentions within himself, or allow his chattering inner voice and vibrating nerves to balance with the flow of his energy. Always there was this violence within him that he could not explain or control, and the pain of betrayal, grief, and shame threatened to overwhelm him many times with such intensity that he did not for a moment consider giving in. He could not focus on the sounds around him, for all he heard was the angry rush of his blood, screams and shouts that echoed in his mind both in his own voice and others that he dared not place, and he constantly dreaded hearing the footspteps of his pursuer approaching from behind.
Eventually that time came. The footsteps were slow and measured and rode on the wind towards Eihm, so that he had ample time to stand and await coming face to face with the robed and hooded figure. The Young monk felt no more prepared, no more calm, and no more capable than he had two hours before, but for the first time since that fateful day in the monastery when the Master had called for him he was consciously aware of the breath that he drew into his lungs. His one takeaway from all that time of silence was how wonderful the smells of the Autumn Plains were – fresh, dry and crisp, laden with a sweetness from the grass seedheads. He was out in the world for the first time in his life, outside of the walls of the monastery.433Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoufzpOoVZt
One thought that passed through his mind unnoticed: He was alive. He still breathed, his heart continued beating. “The flames of youth,” Ahmood had written. It still burned within Eihm.
The white-clad figure walked up to Eihm, and the young monk stood tall and sturdy, showing signs of fear but none of retreat. Eihm could tell from this distance that it was a man he was to meet, lithe but muscular as could be noticed by the way the breeze blew the loose cloth around his form.
When the man was two meters from Eihm he stood still, shadows still sequestering his face, and remained so, surrounded by an atmosphere of tense waiting. Eihm felt the tension in his chest and his heart beat faster. It seems the stranger expected him to make the first move, but the young monk had no idea what to do. He had no firm ground to stand on, no platform from which to approach either talks or a fight. The figure raised his head slightly, sensing this hesitation, but remained as he was, hands hiding within large sleeves in front of him.
Eihm opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it. He tried again, but his throat was too tight and he could only manage a strained grunt. Then he lifted his hand to attempt a greeting, but then thought better of it – he did not know what sign to make to signal his intentions.433Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRJfWtw4MXN
Finally the boy, bare-chested and muscular, alone with this strange man in the orange field, extended his chest in a deep breath, let the air out through his nostrils, and held up his arms for the stranger to clearly see. He then made a gesture towards his head, where he knew were the six bumpy tattoos of Monkhood.433Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeAG8WwA5Sw
He gazed into the shadows of the hood, searching for a pair of eyes, for an answer.
“It seems the ritual was a success,” the voice hissed. “You’re not dead, healthy even, and shpw the weariness of the Dreams.”433Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXYlMyNpZl7
A shiver ran down Eihm’s back. That breathy, high-pitched voice, it was too familiar. An acid knot of dread formed in the young monk’s stomach, and his hands unconsciously flexed into bare-knuckle fists.433Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1wb9FxlhuA
“It’s been a long time…” The man reached up and let down his hood, “… student of mine.”
Eihm stumbled backwards a step, bringing his fists up as if expecting a blow.433Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9GCOxuS2t0
“Now now, don’t be so frightened. We need not fight. I understand what you’re going through, all too well. You’re heavily injured, in ways the body cannot mend. I have lived with this for fifteen years, remember. I can be your teacher once again, impart upon you the most important lessons you will ever learn. You know you need me.”
Eihm gasped for breath, and managed to plant his feet.433Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcvrKjVz5N1
“I will not go with you,” his voice shook, “Corna. The Flame. the Cliff. Master Ohm will not put more chains on me. No one will ever chain me again.”
