Yin and Yang: A Fool's Beginning (31 page)

A shiver crosses over my skin at her story, and it,
more than anything, vanquishes the last of my anger.

In its place, more
curiosity burns
. “You almost died?” I ask
with a dry throat.

“Almost,” she nods in
agreement, “but I didn't. It was up to the Arak device. In that
moment, it got to decide whether I lived or died.”

My mouth is now
completely dry, and I have no idea what my expression looks like.
Maybe I don't care
. “How am I meant to do
that? Do I have to go out and stand under a thunder storm or plunge
into a fire, and wait to see if my Arak band will protect me
without my will to force its magic?”

She looks at me
directly then shrugs her shoulders
. “I
don't know. But I don't think it has to be as dramatic. You just
have to . . . give in. Stop trying to control the device,
stop trying to direct its magic to where you want it to go, and
find out where it wants to go. Start trying to listen to its voice
until its whisper becomes loud enough to hear. Connect,” she taps
her own Arak device, “to it. Understand and appreciate that you
don’t have any magic of your own. Every scrap of magic you have, is
a gift from your device.”

I wipe a hand down my
mouth, crumpling my brow as I do
. “Are
you sure there is no ritual?” I ask hopefully.

She laughs again, and
this time it is a truly easy move. It's light, and it's
mirthful
. “No. It's not that simple, I'm
afraid. Or, in fact, it's much simpler. There's nothing specific
you have to do, there is no sacred scroll you have to read, you
just have to,” she shrugs again, “reconnect.”

“Reconnect,” I repeat
her word, and as I do, my heart sinks. She may think it's easier
than some ritual, but what she has just described is
. . . . It terrifies me.

I've lived my life under my father's rule, and I
devoted myself to the army. Every day, I've had structure,
discipline, a set routine to keep. I've known what to do, because
somebody has told me what to do.

Now, if Yin is to be believed, there is no specific
path I have to follow; I have to make it up myself.

Of all the things
that could scare
a man, somehow that has
the most power over me.

Perhaps Yin can see
how apprehensive I've become, because she presses her lips into a
smile and raises an eyebrow
. “It's not
that scary.”

At the term scary, I
feel my
defenses rise a little. I
straighten up.

Laughing again, she
takes a step back and raises her hands
.
“I didn't mean to suggest you are anything but a brave and loyal
soldier to the Kingdom,” she says in a sarcastic voice.

I want to get angry at her taunts, but it's hard.
There's too much to think about.

Is she right? Is that the only way to reconnect with
the spirit of my magic?

Or am I being distracted? Did Castor suggest that to
undermine me? To distract me?

I wouldn't put it past him.

“You know, you're
becoming cold again,” Yin suddenly says, her voice quiet. “You're
putting the walls back up. I can pretty much hear them clunk into
place. Well, before you finish, I should probably let you know,
that you will never reconnect to the true spirit of your device
with those walls in place. You'll have to give into its espre
completely. You will have to feel it flowing through you, just its
energy and yours, no barriers, no filters. Magic.”

I feel my cheeks
stiffening
. “I don't need a lecture from
you about magic.”

“You asked me,” she
says pointedly.

“It was clearly a
mistake,” I begin saying. Then, as I realize what I'm doing, I
stop.

“You’re right, it was
a mistake. Someone like you could never reconnect to their magic;
you can’t connect to anything,” she concludes with a
huff.

“I'm done here,” I
turn to the door.

“Hey, don't let me
stop you. And how about next time you want a fight, you go see
somebody else.”

I grab the door, my
knuckles turning white
. “I just wanted
information,” I clarify harshly.

“No, you want to be
saved,” she says, and as she does . . . I swear her voice
does something.

Maybe it shakes the room, maybe it sends magic
spewing out everywhere. Or maybe, what it really does, is something
to me.

I half turn over my
shoulder
. “I don't need saving from you,”
I say, trying to laugh dismissively, because it is a ridiculous
thought.

“I'm not saying I am
the one who's going to save you, Captain. I'm just saying that
whether you're willing to accept it or not, you're looking for
something to thaw those icy walls around your heart. You want to
stand and face the fire until it melts through your
barriers.”

Stand and face the fire.

. . .
.

I jerk back now, and before I can say another word, I
slam the door, bolting it behind me.

I stand there, actually panting as I stare at it.

She doesn't say anything, or perhaps she screams, but
I wouldn't be able to hear her over my beating heart.

I take a deep breath, trying to slow my heart, but it
won't work. It keeps charging on as if it's ready to face the
greatest foe in the universe.

But there's no enemies around.

Just the ones within. I bring my hands up and I stare
at them. She is wrong, right? And so is Castor. They are both
wrong. They’re both just trying to undermine me.

I am connected to my magic. I know how it feels. Its
cool, numbing touch has shepherded me through life.

There's nothing else to know.

Holding onto that thought with all my might, I turn
and I walk away. But nothing, nothing can stop me from turning
around and glancing once more at her door.

Yin

What an infuriating
man. Captain Yang is categorically the most irritating person I
have ever met. It isn't just his blind arrogance. It's that streak
of
. . . naïveté. As if he
genuinely believes what he's doing is right.

When I stood there and told him he has no morals, it
wasn't true. Whether I want to admit it or not, he is a principled
man. His principals have just become twisted by somebody else. He
has given too much of his power to others, and he no longer knows
what it feels like to make his own decisions.

But it's more than that. He has a strange curiosity I
haven't met in anyone else. Certainly not in the closed minded
people of my village, and not in the arrogant soldiers of the
army.

Though I want to hate him, I can't bring myself to do
so completely. Even though he has tried to manipulate me, somehow I
can't help but feel he's the closest thing to a friend I have.
Castor has abandoned me for whatever reason, and I'm now virtually
on my own. So as sad as it sounds, Yang is the closest thing
resembling a friendly face, even if I really want to punch that
face.

Despite my fight with Yang, I eventually settle down
and go to sleep.

I'm not the kind of person who simmers after an
altercation. If I were, I'd never get any rest. Instead, after he
leaves, I practice for a short while, then retire to my bed.

Though I have a lot to think about, I go to sleep
relatively quickly.

I don't stay asleep.

I start dreaming.
Strange, shadowy dreams, the likes of which I have rarely
experienced. A sense of doom descends upon me from above, and I
feel as if something is rising through the ground. Slowly crawling
up, out of the cracks in the earth. It reaches towards me, and no
matter where I run, I can’t get away. It's everywhere. Seeping out
of the mount
ains, billowing out of the
plains, and streaming out of the seas.

The darkness.

The foot soldiers of the Night.

I toss and turn as a dream, as they chased me. No
matter how hard I try to attack, no matter what training I rely on,
I can’t defend myself. There are too many of them.

Time and time again throughout the night I wake,
gasping in pain and terror as I free myself from my nightmarish
pursuers. But as soon as I return to sleep, the chase begins
anew.

By the time I wake in the morning, I'm exhausted.
Covered in sweat and shaking, I spend a long while with my back
against the wall, and my pillow cuddled against my chest.

I want to believe they were just dreams, but I can't.
My body is so locked with the memory of those nightmares, I feel
exactly as if I engaged in the battles in the real world.

It takes me too long to pull myself together, and I
can't quite manage it before I hear of rattling knock on my door
and someone barking at me to get ready.

I comply, my arms shaking as I do. Worse than that,
my left hand keeps gripping back and forth, as if it's clutching at
nothing but air.

It hurts too. From the palm to the tips of the
fingers, it feels as if it's been flayed. Yet no matter how much I
inspect it, I can't find any sign of injuries.

My Arak device feels cold against my skin too. Far
too cold. It's as if the soul of magic within has been
smothered.

I almost want to take it off, but I can't. Not
without cutting off my arm.

I'm deeply unsettled by the time I finish dressing
and open the door.

I barely even look at my guards, let alone register
their morning insults as I follow them to the square.

Though I'm offered food, I don't eat. I barely drink.
I can't stomach anything.

I'm less than gratified to find Mae back. Judging by
her expression, she shares my sentiment.

As I step down into
the square, and bristle at the cool morning chill, she shakes her
head
. “I thought you mountain folk could
stand the cold,” she snaps.

I don't breathe a word. I can't even think of
something to say. My mind is completely focused on my harrowing
dreams and what they could mean.

I’m not stupid enough to dismiss them. If I were an
ordinary person, maybe I could denounce them as the ramblings of a
tired and anxious mind. But I'm not a normal person—I'm the
Savior.

They aren't ordinary nightmares—they are
portents.

My future. What will come to pass when the age begins
to end.

I continue to shiver
as I walk up to Mae. She notes it, but rather than ask what's
wrong, she mutters something under her breath along the lines of
me
being impossible.

“Before we begin, I
want you to know that you are pulling me away from incredibly
important business. But since your less than impressive display
with the fan yesterday, where you could have almost killed
somebody, Garl has insisted I return to training you.”

I barely look at her.
Instead I concentrate on trying to push some heat into my
left hand. It feels eerily cold, as if I've
plunged it into ice and left it there.

“However, Garl, for
some reason, wants you to continue learning the fan dance. Despite
your foolishness, you were . . . somewhat effective,” Mae
concedes.

For the first time, I actually look at her whilst
she's speaking to me.

Somewhat effective? I gathered so much power that I
shot through a storm. The amount of magic I discharged into the
clouds dried up the rain completely. Though Castor always taught me
not to be arrogant and to be humble about my powers, Mae is
understating things.

Still, I don't say anything. Nor do I walk away. In
fact, I stand there and do whatever it takes to pay attention. I
have not forgotten my conclusion from last night. Without Castor's
help, I'm still going to continue my journey. I'll do it alone. All
alone. I will gather the lessons I need, and on the final day of
the age, I will fight the Night.

The battle with the leftover demons from my
nightmares is just a prelude of what is to come. Knowing that puts
it in perspective. It helps me loosen my arms, helps me to ignore
the icy touch crawling up my left wrist, radiating from my Arak
device as if someone has replaced it with a band of ice.

Mae
instructs me to take up a defensive position,
and hands me a new fan. I take it and get ready.

“Do not stand so
heavily. You must be lighter on your feet. You are not a bear. Act
like a woman. Your movements must be light, delicate, balanced,”
Mae's voice reverberates on the word balanced.

I look up.

Castor always told me
to find my balance. In fact, he
emphasized that balance is at the heart of all sorcery.
Without balance, there is only chaos. The same chaos that resides
within the Night. To hold it back, I must find some way to summon
and balance my own magic with that of the spirit of the
earth.

As Mae takes up her own defensive position, and looks
perfectly balanced, I realize maybe I don't know what it is. I had
the hubris to lecture Captain Yang last night about releasing to
the spirit of his magic, but maybe I haven't completely learnt that
lesson yet myself.

Maybe I'm truly scared to find out what will happen
if I release to my Arak device completely. If I dare call upon the
Gaea that resides within me and without.

With these thoughts running through my head, I
automatically follow Mae's movements. I don't think about it, and
barely any of my attention is focused on her, just enough to
follow, but not enough to engage.