by Jacinta Jade
This time Siray did risk a look behind. Although still back a far way, Dirl was indeed gaining on them, the trainer’s face annoyed and determined, and Siray quickly developed a new level of respect for the trainer.
Which was promptly replaced by her own determination, and a certain amount of stubbornness.
A fresh rush of adrenaline coursed through her.
‘I am not running up that hill,’ she growled out.
She used her newfound energy to surge into a sprint, ignoring the pain in body as she first passed Kovi and then Deson.
Behind her, Kovi started to stutter in shock.
‘Move it!’ she called back to them both.
Lengthening her stride and flattening her hands, Siray pushed her legs harder and faster. She ignored the pain, the tiredness, and the fire in her lungs. She ignored all of it, focusing instead on the light filtering through to her from up ahead, where the trees were more thinly spread. Closer and closer she drew, and then … they were there!
Siray and the two males burst into the clearing, Tamot leaping and Jorgi falling out of the way as they were almost run down. It took several lengths for the three of them to actually slow to a stop, such was the speed that they had built up.
Siray felt like putting her hands on her knees and bending over in exhaustion, but she needed air, so she settled with placing her hands on her hips and gazing up at the violet sky above, her chest heaving.
A moment later, cheers erupted from behind her, and she spun on wobbly legs to see Dirl run into the clearing.
They had won.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
AFTER WAVING off the mock cheers from the trainees and taking a moment to get air back into his lungs, Dirl called them to order.
‘Agility drills. Now.’
Some of the trainees sighed, but Siray happily walked over to where Dirl was motioning them to line up. Agility drills were much better than running up Bluff Hill, which involved traversing some of the steepest inclines Siray had yet seen. But it wasn’t just the steepness of the hill—it was also a mental battle the entire way. You would reach the top of one incline and think the peak was just before you. But then another incline would appear. And another. For the trainees, Bluff Hill had a double meaning.
They had known that there was a fairly good chance that Dirl would beat them, with their bodies all in such poor condition after their efforts the day before. So they had come up with a plan to help boost their chances.
Dirl didn’t even seem too bothered by his defeat, although Siray supposed that there were other physical tortures that he could put them through on a whim.
The trainees spaced themselves out in one section of the glade, their faces red and their chests still rising and falling rapidly as their bodies worked to provide their starving muscles with air. Then Dirl began to call out instructions, and the trainees responded by exploding into action, jumping, twisting, reaching, and leaping as directed, the glade resounding with their explosions of breaths and grunts as they exerted themselves.
After weeks of gruelling training, the exercises Dirl was having them do should have been of no hardship to the seven of them; however, after the previous day and such a long sprint through the forest, the trainees were experiencing a whole new level of physical exhaustion.
Siray fought through her fatigue and pain as she responded to Dirl’s orders with the others, moving as much as her injuries would allow. She focused only on each move and preparing for the next. She didn’t allow herself to think any further ahead than that, and in effect, she kept lying to herself by saying it would be over after the next move. Or the next.
After a period of doing drills, Dirl called out that they could cool down.
Siray’s shoulders sagged in relief, and she slumped to the ground where she was. Knowing that Dirl might make them do something else if he saw them just lying there, Siray sat up and began stretching out her tired muscles. Looking at the sun overhead as she reached forwards for her feet, she saw they had been drilling for at least one handspan. No wonder she hurt.
As she kept stretching, the sound of heavy feet striking the ground from some way off drifted to her, and she twisted to locate the source. It seemed to be coming from somewhere just beyond the line of trees that ringed the clearing, from around the section that offered the only real entrance from the forest for anything bigger than a body. A muted creaking accompanied the sound of the footfalls, and a moment later, she saw Gesad steer a wagon pulled by two munder beasts into the glade.
Even from this distance, Siray could make out the haughty bearing of Sergeant Bulmer sitting behind Gesad in the wagon.
And next to him sat another figure. An old male who she didn’t know.
Curious, she looked around her and, seeing Tamot seated nearby, stretched out a hand towards him and lightly slapped him on the arm with her fingers.
Tamot twisted away from also watching the wagon and raised his eyebrows questioningly at her, the bruised colours of his swollen eye adding to the effect.
Siray jerked her head in the direction of the wagon. ‘Who is that?’
Tamot turned back to watch the wagon. ‘Gesad and the sergeant, of course.’
Siray narrowed her eyes and slapped Tamot again playfully. ‘You know who I mean. The old male.’
Tamot shrugged. ‘What about him?’
Siray sighed in frustration. Sometimes Tamot liked to do this, particularly if he managed to overhear the information in a less-than-diplomatic way. ‘Do you know who he is?’ she pressed.
‘Why do you think I would know?’ Tamot responded casually.
‘Because,’ Jorgi said as he flopped down on his back close by, his new position effectively making him a part of the conversation. ‘You always have to know everything first.’
Tamot glared at Jorgi, but he and Siray just sat waiting expectantly. They all knew that Tamot loved knowing things the others didn’t. And telling them.
He caved quickly. ‘His name is Honvil. And he is the Change master for the Resistance.’
Siray’s eyebrows rose, and she took another look at Honvil, who was now stepping down from the wagon with assistance from Dirl.
Jorgi shifted to face Tamot. ‘He looks a bit fragile,’ he said uncertainly.
Tamot shrugged again, stretching out to laze on his side now. ‘Apparently he’s had cycles of experience in training youths to Change.’
Jorgi nodded in the direction of the wagon. ‘I guess we’re about to find out.’
All seven trainees were now watching the four males approach. As they drew closer, Siray pushed herself to her feet along with the others, but to her surprise, Honvil waved them all back down.
He spoke to them in a clear, strong voice that belied his aged appearance. ‘Stay sitting for now. You will be working hard enough soon, I assure you.’
The trainees all hesitated for a moment, looking at each other uncertainly, before they each followed the master’s command and folded their bodies tiredly back onto the ground.
Siray carefully watched the faces of the other trainers, especially Sergeant Bulmer, who was a stickler for formality. None of their faces even twitched, a sign Siray took to mean that either the trainers knew and accepted Honvil’s less-formal approach or else they had enough respect for him that they would not question his methods. Either way, he appeared to be someone to take seriously.
Dirl, Gesad, and the sergeant remained standing a little behind Honvil, watching both him and the trainees.
Honvil, meanwhile, moved a little closer and smiled down at the trainees with genuine warmth, looking at each of them in turn.
When Honvil’s eyes made contact with her own, Siray almost flinched. The gaze that met hers was steady but piercing and seemed to unravel her from the inside as she looked back at him. Beneath that gaze, she felt as if her innermost self were laid bare, yet his eyes remained warm. It was unsettling to experience, and she felt some small relief when that same gaze moved on to Jorgi.
And then to Tamot. And on again.
As Siray watched Honvil look at each of the other trainees in turn, she could have sworn that Honvil had held her gaze longer than that of the others.
Or was she just being paranoid?
During his silent examination, the trainees waited in awkward silence, either looking covertly at each other, the surrounding glade, or, in Loce’s case, playing with tendrils of grass.
Now, however, Honvil clapped his hands, drawing their attention back to him. ‘Thank you all for giving me a moment. It is always important to know before I begin just who it is I am training.’
Siray frowned as Honvil paced slowly along the edge of their small group. What was it he had learned just by looking at them? Did he actually have a way to look into them?
Keeping her eyes on the old master, Siray saw that, even as he paced, talked, and gestured, his eyes never left their faces. Always watching, always assessing. They were the only part of him that hinted to her how much of everything he said or did was deliberate and measured.
‘I want all of you to now think back on why you joined the Resistance,’ the master directed them. ‘Each of you will have had your own reason.’ He paused for a moment in his pacing. ‘I also want you to think about what it is you will be fighting for. You have been trained in hand-to-hand combat and will be trained in strategy. What you will also need to learn is how to survive in another world. A world of Change.’
The way Honvil said the word brought a heightened stillness to everything in the clearing.
All of Siray’s attention was now on him and as she listened intently.
Honvil continued speaking in his slow and even manner, moving slowly around the edges of the group again. ‘Changing is different for everyone. Most of you will have a chosen form. Some of you might even have multiple forms that you may be able to switch between eventually, a gift that is rare but becoming more common with your generation.’
Siray didn’t dare to blink, lest she miss anything the master said.
Honvil smiled down at the group’s attentiveness. ‘But today, all I want you to focus on is letting your body just … be.’
Honvil paused in his pacing and gazed down at the trainees with that steady regard, letting them all absorb his words.
Siray frowned slightly. She replayed the master’s words again in her mind a second time, but she didn’t get any more out of them than she had the first. Be? Be what?
Looking around quickly, she saw the others were noticeably just as confused.
Honvil must have noticed the frowns and stares, of course, but he simply waited patiently until all eyes were resting on him once more.
‘Let me give you a demonstration of what I mean.’ He resumed his slow pacing. ‘Close your eyes and lie down on your back.’
Siray’s mouth twitched in surprise, but she obediently followed Honvil’s instructions. This definitely wasn’t what she had expected this morning, yet as she lay down on the grass, she gave a mental shrug. Whatever they were doing now was much better than doing agility drills, so why worry?
She settled herself comfortably on her back and waited for the next instruction as she closed her eyes. She thought Honvil must still be doing his slow walking circles, as his voice floated to Siray from different directions every so often.
‘I want you all to relax as much as possible. Breathe in from your stomach, drawing the breath deep into your body, then slowly exhale out. Feel your muscles ease into their natural state and allow your body to sink farther into the grass. Feel the various parts of your body relaxing, one by one, and keep that breath going, in and out.’
Honvil’s voice was soft but clear, with a melodious touch to it.
Siray thought his voice could possibly sweep her thoughts away if she listened long or intently enough.
‘Your bodies are relaxed, your muscles at rest, and your breathing is even and deep. Now, let your physical body drift from your awareness and keep your thoughts focused on my voice.’
The master’s words were coming to Siray from somewhere off to her right now.
‘I want you to picture yourselves lying here in the glade. Picture yourself lying next to your fellow trainees. Now, picture the entire glade. See the grass, the trees. See the wind as it moves through the glade, over your bodies, and onwards. See the hairs on your head move in that breeze. See me as I stand here, next to you.’
In her mind’s eye, Siray could almost see Honvil as a beacon of light revolving around herself and the others. Strangely, the general sunlight she pictured in her mind wasn’t the same as that she had seen every day of her life. It was a warmer, more golden colour and seemed to sit for a moment on everything she pictured.
‘Now, look farther out. See the camp, the hill, and the river. Feel the ground beneath you, stretching away down deep. Know that you touch the same ground that supports life both here and life existing everywhere else on this planet.’
A long pause, where Siray breathed in and out many times while images blinked through her mind.
‘Now,’ said the Honvil, ‘come back to the glade. Look back at your body.’
Siray’s mind obeyed, and the image of the glade reformed. She could see her own face, relaxed and still, her chest rising gently as she breathed.
Honvil’s voice shifted direction again. ‘Look even closer at yourself. Look at the lines of your face, the lashes settled on your cheeks, the unique shape of your hands. Now, allow a slight awareness of your body to come back. Focus on each muscle, starting with the foot of one leg and working your way up. Sense where your body may be hurting at the moment. It might just be a tired muscle or it might be something more.’
In her mind, Siray chuckled. Hurt? She ached all over. But she complied with Honvil’s instructions anyway. Yes, she was tired and ached from the morning’s activities, and, not unexpectedly, her right knee did hurt more than it otherwise might have. She moved upwards, examining the feel of each muscle mentally as she focused on it. Yes, there was her rib injury. And her left shoulder. Wait—had that happened yesterday?
Siray twitched that shoulder experimentally, and winced. Definitely something wrong there. Why hadn’t she noticed?
Honvil spoke again. ‘Now I want you to focus on where you feel strong. Where does the power in you lie?’
Siray thought for a moment. Where was she strong? Well, overall, she was a lot stronger than when she had first arrived here, but then, they all were. She felt strength in her coiled muscles, a deep readiness to endure far more than she could have before her training. But Honvil had said ‘power’.
Maybe he meant emotional strength?
Siray looked deeper within herself and, breathing deeply, turned it into a game, picturing her mind like a forest with many paths. She broke her mind into pieces so she could follow each one, and found she was running into herself again and again as the paths all met along the way, everything that lay around them being catalogued by her mind.
And then, somehow, her mind stepped off the path … and she was floating in a wilderness of raw information that stunned her.
Here, memories she couldn’t consciously recall came to her, the images and voices in them whispering to her.
Much of what she had faced recently was clear to her now, and she could almost see in that wilderness before her the varied paths of the future she might take laid out before her.
One particular memory came to hover before her mind’s eye, and, curious, Siray mentally reached for it, some instinct urging her to view it.
Then Honvil’s voice came to her in that place, pulling her back again before she could see the memory.
‘Now, come back to consciousness, and awake.’
Siray’s eyes flickered open, blinking as they adjusted to the real light. She sat up, frowning down at the ground below her as she desperately tried to hold on to the things she had just learned. Yet the harder she tried to recall it, the faster she seemed to lose any sense of what it was she had known only
a moment before.
‘This,’ Honvil explained, ‘is what I mean by letting your body be. Don’t tell your body how it should be feeling, or how you should be thinking. Instead, take the time to listen. You might just learn something.’
As Siray looked around, she saw the others also sitting up around her, their faces showing different reactions to what they had just been through.
Honvil circled back to the front of the group. ‘You need to be able to listen to your bodies and minds, both as warriors and as those who will learn to Change. Fighting either will result in an inability to Change, or worse. But if you listen to it, your body will warn you about threats and tell you when something feels right or wrong. It will give you instincts. And these are more important than ever once you have Changed.’
Honvil clasped his hands before him. ‘You will only fully understand this after you have experienced it for yourself, as one or two of you already know. When you Change, your instincts will be the best chance you have for survival in battle. Keep your own mind in control at all times but stay relaxed enough so that you can hear the instincts of your new body. Hear, and understand them.’
Honvil’s eyes swept across the group.
‘Although your body takes on another form during a Change, you carry always the same mind within. Which means that your strongest asset will always be here.’ He raised one of his leathery hands to tap his temple, then let the arm fall to his side again.
‘As a people, we generally take on a form from a pool of about thirty to forty animals, as, although different in our own ways, our natures only tend to vary so far. But every so often, we do see something different or rare, to reflect the uniqueness of an individual.’
The master went quiet for a moment and seemed to consider something before he continued his lesson.
‘I know you are all eager to proceed, but I need your fullest attention again for just a moment more.’
Siray saw there was a new level of seriousness in the old master’s face.
‘Once you know what each other’s forms are, I must ask you not to discuss them with anyone else outside of your unit. Upon your graduation from training, this restriction may be lifted, but for now, I ask this of you. Understood?’