Echoes of Divinity: Book 13 of Painting the Mists, page 21
Drezil did so, and Cha Ming saw that it was indeed a little different from the others. Shakkanah summoned her own formation, and Cha Ming summoned his. “This one is perfect, Drezil. If I’m not mistaken, you partially opened your Sight while you were away.”
“It is as Master says,” Drezil said. “Though to be honest, I regret ever succeeding. The Sight is as much a curse as a blessing.”
“Pardon me for asking this, but what is this Sight you speak of?” Cha Ming asked. It was only natural that he be curious—he’d obtained may vision techniques, including his Eyes of Truth and Sage’s Sight. He’d learned to read threads of karma. Despite all this, he couldn’t help but notice that something was evading his detection. Something to do with that golden light and the formations that gave it off.
“It is not a technique, as it were, but an awareness of the Great Divine,” Shakkanah said. “By learning from me, Drezil will naturally train his vision to see what he needs to see. He will learn to see his flaws, but also his accomplishments.”
“And what does this Sight of yours help you see?” Cha Ming asked.
“Perfection,” Shakkanah said solemnly. “You do not see a great difference between our formations because you do not have this perspective. You may not believe it is worth expending effort in this area, but I offer you a challenge, Clear Sky: Practice these formation patterns until we arrive at Desert’s Blessing. I guarantee that you will notice an improvement in your own arts, regardless of whether or not you gain the Sight.”
“You’re not afraid that I’ll steal your clan’s heritage?” Cha Ming asked. In truth, he was more reluctant to waste time. Shakkanah’s answer surprised him, however.
“We have never been afraid of spreading knowledge of the Great Divine,” Shakkanah said. “Those of the other clans, and even humans, have come to learn from us. We welcome all, and every student who returns to their homeland with a new perspective is a blessing to the world.
“You may not know this, but there is a tribe of human body cultivators called the Makaka. They have no ancestral divine blood. Yet they beseeched us for knowledge of our ways. Through their hard work, they were able to obtain markings similar to our own. It is through these markings that they train as demigods despite their base heritage. They have redeemed humankind in my eyes.”
“Apologies, but I don’t see how practicing such basic formations will benefit me,” Cha Ming said.
“Thus the challenge,” Shakkanah said. “I assure you that you will benefit. And since you are Drezil’s teacher, and I hope that you will continue teaching him should anything happen to me. I can tell that you are an honest man and would never lie to me, so I offer you a wager. It will take two weeks for us to cross this small stretch of desert. In those two weeks, practice fighting with us in the evening, and practice formations with Drezil afterward. Work as hard as he does and attempt to master the basics. If you see no worthwhile improvement in your runic arts, I will agree to your previous request and allow Drezil to stay behind in Desert’s Blessing, where he will be able to find passage back to Verdant Crossroads and return to your academy.”
“And if I should find myself improving?” Cha Ming asked.
“There is no need for you to give me anything,” Shakkanah said with a grin. “You have the heart of a teacher. If you see yourself improving, you will want the same for your student. You will see that it is best that he remains with me. You will continue to see him change and grow over the course of this mission, and by the end of it, you will be convinced. In the end, my student will benefit, and you will as well. The world will be a better place.”
“All right,” Cha Ming said, nodding slowly. “I agree to your wager. I’ll train with Drezil to the best of my ability. I only hope you won’t renege on your promise if things don’t work out the way you intend.”
“Excellent,” Shakkanah said. “Continue practicing your formations. I will now begin interfering with your efforts.”
They both began cycling through the formations in tandem. This time, the formation mats glowed strangely, and energy began to shift back and forth, assaulting their senses and threatening to dismantle their formations. The basics weren’t difficult at all, but with this level of interference—Cha Ming felt his was more intense—it grew nearly impossible to complete without any mistakes. Before long, Cha Ming failed in forming one of the formations. So did Drezil.
The backlash of losing control hit the younger demon hard, but he took it in stride and continued. Seeing his determination, Cha Ming could only persevere. They continued training well into the night, and soon, it was dawn. Only then did the sandstorm fade, revealing a much-changed landscape and dusty morning air.
“At your levels there is no need to sleep for more than four hours every three days,” Shakkanah said as they packed the mats. “Since you are accompanying Drezil, I hope you will follow my instructions.”
“It’s what I agreed to,” Cha Ming said. “Just don’t regret your words.”
“I have never regretted anything in my life, Clear Sky,” Shakkanah said. He could swear there was a bit of hesitancy to those words, however. “You will both keep pulling today. Clear Sky, continue to increase your exertion as we pull, and try to notice the flow of energy in your body as you do so. You will notice it leaking out as we run, which increases your exhaustion.
“You are a human, so your body works differently than a demon’s. I cannot offer you more specific guidance, but I can tell you is that it is possible to circulate your energy in such a way that you will minimize your exertion and cut down on how much energy you require. You will also require less inky water, which will minimize our wastage. Your increased endurance while we pull will allow us to increase our speed.”
With this, they packed up the mats, which the high priestess stored in her personal storage ring. Cha Ming tagged along with Drezil as they prepared the ship for travel. Not far away, the human ship was busy excavating itself from the mountain of sand that had built up over their less-efficient barrier formation. They’d clearly underestimated the Sacred Desert, judging by the much better state of the Runebound Clan’s camp.
Cha Ming wasn’t sure what to think of their method of travel, but it was an interesting change of pace after staying in a single city for three whole years. It was an adventure, and he was determined to make the most of it.
Chapter 11: Stowaway
Hot desert sands shifted beneath Cha Ming’s feet as he pulled on the groaning rope connecting him to the Runebound Clan’s desert-faring ship. Sweat covered his entire body, though the moisture clung to him thanks to his desert-faring clothes. Every step he took was torture—not because of the scalding sand or the scorching hot sun, but because of the effort required to stop his energy from leaching away. All while he used a mere half of his strength to pull in tandem with the rest of the group.
They were much faster now than when they’d started their journey. The Mendin troop was no exception. Many of their physical classes had even taken a leaf out of the Runebound Clan’s book and started pulling the ship along instead of relying on mages to power their craft. Likewise, Cha Ming’s demonic crew fell into a certain cooperative rhythm. The weak-bodied phoenix clansmen adapted and contributed with surprising resilience.
They traveled for about eighteen hours before hints of a sandstorm showed up on the horizon. By then it was well past sunset. It was difficult to predict when the sandstorms would strike or how long they would last. The ships slowed at Shakkanah’s command and parked side by side instead of in their separate locations. They used a duplicate formation orb supplied by Shakkanah to form a combined formation array centered on both their ships. It took less than a half hour to set up the grand formation, and as a bonus, no one would need to excavate the Mendin ship.
As always, the Runebound Clan set up their mats and fell into ranks. Cha Ming joined them in their practice by imitating their martial forms. He tried the best he could, though it had become clear to him long ago that he would never achieve the same level in their arts as they could. There was no escaping the limits of his human body. He didn’t have runes on his skin to complement the mysterious martial art.
Three hours of sweaty agony passed by in a flash. First with their slow yet powerful patterns, followed by several one-on-one bouts. They paired him with the weakest of them, but that didn’t prevent him from getting ruthlessly smashed into the mats time and time again. His strength was superior to theirs, but he’d only had a week to study their fighting style. Besides, his normal weapons and techniques were banned, and he could only fight using his body and raw energy.
After quietly taking his beatings, Cha Ming followed Drezil and mechanically ate his food. He was tired, but there was still much to do. Moreover, he knew that the agonizing run and the intense sparring were just the beginning. There was still Shakkanah’s hellish training to participate in, and despite his initial optimism, he was sorely disappointed in the results thus far.
“I don’t think I’m improving at all, Drezil,” Cha Ming said. “It’s just a waste of time.” In his opinion, his formations hadn’t improved in the slightest.
“Nonsense, Teacher!” Drezil said. “I see you improving by the day, and much faster than I am. Even Master Shakkanah seems surprised by it.”
“I understand that my energy leakage has reduced, but what’s the point?” Cha Ming asked.
“I’m not sure how to explain it, Teacher,” Drezil said.
“Well, even if I haven’t learned anything worthwhile, the rest of the camp has,” Cha Ming said. He looked at both groups resting between the ships. Both teams ate in separate places and rested on their own ships, but there was the occasional intermingling.
There was also a surprising similarity in the content of the conversations on both sides. They mirrored each other in that both sides were supposedly dissatisfied with their cooperative relationship, though no fights broke out due to substantial efforts of their leaders. While to some, this might seem like worrisome behavior, Cha Ming had seen the same thing happen before three years ago in Verdant Crossroads. This resistance was the natural reaction after taking the first step toward peaceful integration.
Of course, those eating weren’t the only ones to complain. “There must be rats,” Cha Ming overheard one of the human cooks saying.
“If it’s rats, they’re big ones,” another said. “This is thievery, plain and simple. Must be the work of one of the sneakier demons. Maybe that three-eyed shadow weasel that keeps sculking about?”
Funnily enough, he heard the same complaints on the other side. A Star-Eye Clan warrior complained about stolen fruit, and an Iridescent clanswoman about a skewer of meat she’d misplaced. Human thieves were to blame, of course.
These were small problems. Inevitable ones. People lost things all the time. Just watching them, Cha Ming found himself thinking about how he could calm things down and forge a greater peace. The dialogue between humans and demons had been poisoned for millennia. It would take generations to fully sort everything out, but he knew from experience that it was more than possible for this small group to reconcile with each other. All it took was a little talking, a little pressure, and a little time.
Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to continue thinking about this, as Drezil was already pulling Cha Ming to their next training session. He followed Drezil to the stack of mats, which they began placing out of habit. Shakkanah wasn’t there, but she often wasn’t in the beginning, since they could manage on their own. Cha Ming wasn’t going to give her the opportunity to back out of their agreement.
Once the mats were set, Cha Ming and Drezil immediately began their practice. Drezil’s speed had improved substantially since they’d started, and a few more of his formations had taken on that same strange golden glow. Cha Ming had been unable to replicate such a phenomenon, and he wasn’t sure it wasn’t unique to the Runebound Clan’s blood lineage.
He soon lost himself in the rhythmic formation pattern as he had so many times. He only knew one pattern, and it was the driest form of cultivation he’d ever practiced. Then again, it’s not like I haven’t improved, he thought. There’s just no obvious benefit. His time in the desert and his time sparring had given him the ability to accurately sense energy leakage. This didn’t just apply to his own body, but to formations as well.
One percent. He could now quantify the amount of energy that leaked in and out of each formation. One percent of the total bled out of the formation lines he set with each circulation, only to be reabsorbed back inside. It was a meaningless amount. Annoying, even.
He would have quit long ago, but Shakkanah insisted it was necessary, and Drezil was brainwashed as well. As a result, Cha Ming could only play along, at least for another week, when he’d confront Shakkanah about their bargain. In that sense, his efforts weren’t meaningless. He would obtain some benefit no matter what.
An unknown length of time passed before the usual interference began. Shakkanah had appeared without their knowledge, and she was rocking both him and Drezil as they executed their formation patterns. Cha Ming reacted to each change instinctively. He’d improved in that regard as well. He had to admit that it wouldn’t be a bad thing to teach his students in the future, since doing this sort of exercise would increase their confidence in performing under pressure.
The distractions came and went, but Cha Ming paid them no heed. His only concern was with the formations. He could feel every shifting line and every curve in every rune.
They were simpler runes than those he drew on paper. They only contained shallow meanings. They weren’t suggestions or pathways, but commands.
The runes drew him in further the longer he practiced, and soon, he discovered something. Just a hint. A glimmer. A hint of gold as a formation came together. He paused on that formation, breaking with Drezil’s rhythm. It was the simplest of formations, the first energy-gathering formation.
At the same time, the formation was vastly different, one he barely recognized. It was pure, circular, and simple, but the golden light was mesmerizing, and its performance unmatched. This formation was leak free, and the sensation he was experiencing was akin to what one might feel if they drew a perfect picture for the first time without any mistakes. Is this… is this a leak-free energy-gathering formation?
Hesitantly, Cha Ming released the formation and continued the pattern, cycling through all ninety-nine others before cycling back to the same one. Once again, the first formation was covered in a golden sheen. It came together perfectly, and he was reluctant to let it go. It called to him in a way the others didn’t.
He continued along, wondering if he could do it again, but before he realized what was happening, the seventh formation in the pattern began glowing with that same light. And the twenty-ninth, and the forty-fifth, and the sixty-seventh. Each one glowed with that same distracting golden light. Each one was different in a way that he couldn’t articulate.
Cha Ming’s mind raced as he continued cycling through the pattern, wondering what was going on and what made these formations different. Shakkanah seemed to sense this special state, and the distractions that had been plaguing him focused their attention on Drezil instead. It became game of hide-and-seek where he was constantly looking for that hint of gold. That special meaning. And every time he found it, it was wondrous.
Cha Ming didn’t know how much time he spent in that state, but when he opened his eyes, he saw that he was shifting between each formation seamlessly. Each of the hundred sub-formations contained a healthy golden glow.
It was a one percent difference. Insignificant. But that small difference felt like a dividing line. A gateway into an entirely different way of looking at things, because no matter how much he focused on each component, he could find no way to improve it.
“What is this golden glow?” Cha Ming asked softly as he made his way through each one. Then, on a whim, he tried incorporating them into a few initial-rune-carving formations he’d learned before. They came together perfectly, their energies not clashing like they should. There was no resistance to them, and like their pieces, there was no energy loss. The turbulence and shakiness that should have accompanied the creation of the formation was nonexistent. It flew in the face of everything he’d ever experienced.
“What you see is a hint of the Great Divine,” Shakkanah said, taking a seat beside him. Drezil was still practicing on his own. “You’ve discovered the surface of something unfathomably deep. In your special state, you were able to comprehend much more than most would their first time around. Perhaps it is because of your strong soul, or perhaps it is because you are more experienced than Drezil, but you’ve now exceeded him in this regard.”
“They’re different,” Cha Ming muttered, shifting through several other formations. “The formations I make… they’ve changed. Actually….” He frowned as he noticed some pieces didn’t quite come together correctly. Pieces that should have otherwise become golden but hadn’t. It annoyed him greatly.
Cha Ming began to inspect the formation, and Shakkanah did not interrupt him. The initial-rune-carving energy-gathering formation was a step up from the most basic component, formed of nine separate formations joined through several runic lines and focus runes. Typically, it would be carved into a plate or a mat. As a formation artist, he’d also trained in making temporary ones with raw energy, like he was doing now, since it was often useful to add sub-formations, and these could also be used in combat.
Now, however, it felt incongruous. Seeing the resulting formation was a thousand times more annoying than a mosquito sting. He felt an itch that urged him to adjust the formation. He wasn’t really sure how to go about it, but he had an inkling, so he wriggled pieces around. Many of the lines he was using were unnecessary.
Fortunately, Cha Ming had a solution. He had his Sage’s Sight. He immediately used it to find a few flaws that needed remedying. Even then, it took Cha Ming hours of fidgeting to fix these seemingly insignificant problems.
