Mythshaper

My second attempt did not go much better than the first, nor the third, fifth, or eighth. Some were even worse than the first try.

I turned towards Father, seeking any advice on what I was missing.

"Focus more on your intention than the aura sword you're visualising," he said. "Focus on the very leaf you want to cut and the way you want to cut it."

I thought deeply on what he said and turned my gaze to my palm before finding another leaf to target. I looked at it intently, so intently that I must have looked constipated. If I were a master like Father, perhaps it would have already been cut from my gaze alone. But I was merely a beginner and needed to push through the physical act of it.

Inhaling deeply, I took the stance of the Whispering Gale. Left foot forward, right foot back, hands on my right, the sword pointing forward.

"Your aura doesn't have to be exactly like a physical blade. What you are mastering here is the sharpness itself, the thin edge that cuts things without thought. Leave the weight, and all that physical and metaphorical nonsense for later. For now, you only cut things."

My breathing stilled, and a translucent string flew out from the edge of my blade, despite there being no sword in my palm. Well, sword or not, it made little difference.

The sword sense showed me the exact path to chip the leaf, and I followed it through without hesitation. My legs flung me up to the exact level as my aura blade cut through the wind, and fell upon the middle of that yellowed leaf.

I landed back on the ground, only to find Father beside me, the chipped leaf falling into his palm.

"Well, that was fast," he said, holding the straight-cut edge of the leaf before my eyeline.

[A new way is available: Aura Resonance: Sharpness I (1/100)]

Without answering Father, I attempted to see if I could cut a leaf a second time. Once again, I took my stance and let my sword sense manifest. I did not allow myself to revel in that little success and concentrated even harder on the task at hand. Even when the sword sense showed me the path, I hesitated, looking over whether it was the best path available. After all, sword sense was not something magical, but a way for my mind to visualise the path forward. And like anything involving the mind, it could make me vain.

I picked up more than a few ways to cut a leaf. The task was, unfortunately or fortunately, minutely easier than it had appeared. So I followed through once again without another thought.

The result did not disappoint me.

"Make sure that branch has no leaves on it once you are finished," Father said, pointing to a broader branch that had at least a couple of hundred leaves even in its withered state. "And then we will move on to the next phase of your training."

With that, he left me to my devices. The task was as simple as Father said it would be. With the little success clouding my mind, I chopped off leaves here and there, irrespective of how much effort I was putting in.

It was only a dozen more hacks, and I began to feel how taxing it was. Even though it had evolved into an advanced state with a good 52 points in it, I reckoned my aura would be completely drained halfway through the task. And aura recovery did not work the same way as essence. Aura worked more like a limb; once you were exhausted beyond reason, you could move it as much as you move your limb.

The only thing that could help was meditation and rest.

Then I realised, Father did not say I could not target more than one leaf at a time, did he? Although my grasp of sword sense had grown considerably since I opened the way, I was still not a true swordsman and could not keep up with the ability constantly in a fight. The good thing was I was not in a fight, and my opponents were inanimate leaves whose only agency came from the blowing wind, and the sky had been much clearer since the harrowing blizzard.

At first, I was not too good at dicing more than one cleanly, as my intention was not clear about the leaves I was targeting. However, after a couple of mistakes, I learnt my lessons and did better.

Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

With each of my lunges, three or four shredded leaves began to fall. Each strike cut two or more, whilst the returning arc did damage of its own. The only thing left for me was to enter a trance-like state and forget everything but the leaves I was shredding.

Amidst the work, I had an epiphany that the power I was imposing was a whole lot more than it required to shred leaves. They were mere leaves, after all, fragile even to the blowing winds, much less my aura sword. It was another learning moment to adjust my aura strength, which did not come as naturally to me as sharpness had.

[Way of Aura Resonance: Sharpness I (100/100) is complete.]
[+2 Enhanced Aura.]

So the Spell counted the times my aura resonated with sharpness, not the amount of time I put in it. Well, that would certainly change if I did not make any improvement, but for now, it was certainly a rewarding Way to practise.

I didn't know how much time it took, but judging by the sun's position, it hadn't been more than a few minutes, and I was already feeling the drain on my aura. It was the very first time I had exhausted my aura, and to my dismay, it was not much of a physical toll as I had imagined it to be. It felt more like a deep exhaustion after hours of engraving work.

It would certainly take a hard time getting used to with all my artificing.

I turned to face Father, who was still sitting on the porch with Mum. "I don't think I have enough left for the next phase of the training."

"No," Father said, standing up. "But you are in exactly the state you need to be in to practise it."

He asked me to sit down in a meditative pose, but not to enter meditation, which would recover some of my aura. According to him, that would defeat the purpose.

"You can train it when you are flourishing with aura, but the sharpening is most apparent when you are mostly drained of aura."

He sat in a similar pose before me and began to explain the process of sword forging. As the name suggested, it was exactly like forging your aura into a blade, weaponising it, moulding it into the shape that could only cut. But instead of a hammer, anvil, and fire to do the work, you used aura to do all the damage and forging.

"There's still a chance to think it over," Father warned.

Something in my look assured him I was completely convinced of it, as he did not try to change my mind any further.

"All right, close your eyes and visualise your aura." His voice came to my ears reassuringly as I did as told. "Visualise it surrounding you protectively in a cocoon. We'll call it your Aura body."

The first part was easy. An unreserved aura usually surrounds the physical body like an embryonic spiritual domain. Concentrating on it a little more barely took an effort.

"The forging requires you to divide a bit of your aura to mould it into a knife, and then use that knife to bruise your own aura."

"Kind of like sharpening a dull blade on a whetstone?"

All that sounded easy enough, but it would require more attention and Will to impose. But I had cut all those leaves, moulding my aura into a blade. Doing so once again would not have been difficult if I were filled with aura strength. Now, only a fraction of it was left, covering my skin flimsily.

I tried multiple times and failed miserably most of the time. The times I managed it somehow, it hurt like a corpse fly nibbling into my soul.

I opened one of my eyes in confusion. "Was it supposed to hurt like this?"

"It can be worse," Father said. "Usually, it is mildly painful and wildly uncomfortable. Like something pricking at you, but you cannot put a finger on it."

And I had to do it for how long? Now that was awfully discomforting, but I could not go back on my words or my conviction.

"Usually, an external hand sharpens the blade best," Father continued, "someone who knows what they are doing. In our custom, it is the master who helps their pupil through the early days of aura forging, and only to be ever tried with someone you trust."

I tilted my head, sneaking a glance at Mum. "So, it will be Mum and you for me."

Father nodded and made a small carving knife with his aura. "Ready?"

I did some breathing exercises to prepare my mind and had my diminished aura surround me protectively. Only then did I nod. At once, his aura knife brushed against the surface of my aura enforcement. It was not even much of a clash, but wherever the knife touched, it left a gaping hole in my protection, which I had to use more Will to fill.

Like Father had mentioned, there was no physical pain to speak of, even less than when I tried myself, but as he went on lacerating my aura body, an uproar began to manifest in my psyche. I was uncomfortable, to say the least. The only time I felt more ill at ease was during my advancement in the Apparatus of Paths, when the ancient weight weighed down on my shoulders, or the times when I tried to impose my Will over the vast essence within the esoteric formation in the sacrarium.

I was sure Father could up the ante a lot more. He was only going carefully for my own benefit.

"It takes a lot of sharpening for your aura to change," Father commented. "You won't see a difference in a day or two, but after a month or more, you will be immune to most types of aura manipulation like coercion, dread, and the like of your class. Even your aura defence would be more solid than the clumsy thing you have right now."

Well, all that sounded good and all, but I could only answer him with a grunt, as even focusing a bit of my mental energy to talk would have me fumble the aura.

"Hey, don't get him too exhausted on day one, Jinn," Mother said as she stood up. "I still need him to have some energy left for body forging and the etiquette lessons."

I cast her a sideways glance, aghast.

"What? Did you think I would let you join a provincial event brimming with all the aristocratic factions for you to flounder in defeat?"

============