NOVEL NEXT 9: Are We Dancing?
Oh, sands, my mind was BLOWN! I mean, she was Ryst Nova, and she was standing there in this unbelievable— well. Just watch it. Endless caricature fodder.
- Sibsil Creed, Stories of Shurwinn, (2768)
"You don't like soup?"
The question startled me out of my reverie. I'd been enjoying a juicy fruit salad of mango, oranges, bananas and berries in the shade of a coconut palm outside the dining commons, thinking about the progress I'd made since joining Media Monastery six weeks prior. Progress not perfection. I practiced amongst the Tindin adepts at sunrise each morning, moving in the flow from posture to posture. The flexibility came naturally to me, but the advanced balances were still a work in progress.
The days had passed quickly as I did whatever jobs around the monastery looked like they needed doing. I tended the gardens, cleaned the bathrooms, helped in the kitchen, and tidied up wherever it was needed. The library was wonderful, and I'd progressed to reading Shurwinn texts that were quite academic. That seemed like a good indicator of my grasp of the language, but since I spent most of my time alone, my conversational skills needed improvement.
It was still fraught every time I tried to talk to people. Language barrier plus the unnerving knowledge that I actually didn't need conversation to know what people were thinking and feeling caused me no end of disturbance.
The meals at the dining hall were simple: porridge for breakfast, soup for lunch with flatbread, and usually a rice dish with curry or other spiced vegetables at dinner. There were fresh fruits available, but not the kind of volume that I needed. So I opted to prepare my own meals and eat outside. It was easier than trying to sit at tables and try to keep a curtain around my mind. If I talked to someone or even just relaxed too much in the dojo, I got overwhelmed with the sense of the people near me. I'd just start knowing what they were feeling, what was bothering them, and what their intentions were.
Sometimes I would hear something that was like they were talking, but I'd realize they weren't speaking out loud. It was weird, and I felt creepy. I didn't like it. Not one bit. And I didn't know how to stop it. I felt like I was accidentally intruding on people's private thoughts, and I didn't know how to control it.
So, I'd decided the best thing for me to do was keep imagining that I had a curtain around me, and to keep to myself.
I had come a long way, though. I felt confident with the language. I enjoyed reading all different kinds of materials, and I was trying to find out more about nuns, but the book titles in the library hadn't lead me in any specific direction. I'd been considering going into the Philosophy section of the library to see what there was about Tindin because I wasn't sure if Tindin was a religion.
I wasn't even sure what the monastery was. Weren't monasteries supposed to be about religion and gods? There wasn't anyone wearing special clothing like in stream shows. I didn't notice any rituals other than the greeting the sun Tindin practice. And I still wasn't sure what I should be asking the locals about since I was an off sphere, and they were separatists. Usually, no one approached me when I ate outside alone.
The man inquiring about my dislike of soup was around six feet tall, lithe, and he moved with grace— definitely a Tindin adept. I'd seen him greet the sun a few times, but he was always out of my range of sight. After meals, I'd see him cleaning the dining room from time to time. We had never spoken.
He sat down next to me in the shade as I smiled at him. "Actually, I do like soup, but I need to eat certain things for my health, so I choose not to eat soup right now," I responded. I felt his manner relax a little, and I sensed that he had been concerned that there was a problem with the food that made me avoid it. I tried pulling my curtain around my mind and feelings, but it was hard. I just couldn't block out the information or sensations. It was like breathing; it just seemed to be a part of me.
He asked again, "And fruit is more suitable for you?"
"Yes. It's what I am doing right now to help myself. And uncooked vegetables and nuts too."
"Why only vegetables, fruits, and nuts?" he asked.
"May I speak in Universal to answer? It's is too complex for me to speak in Shurwinn."
"Of course," he replied in Universal.
"The truest answer to your question is that I just know that it's right for me right now," I said.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
He cocked his head a little and looked at me with probing eyes, "And the less true answer?"
Excellent, a companion who was good at verbal sparring and picking out subtlety. My awareness expanded out, around, and reached towards him, so I turned my head away to look out at the garden and leaned back against the tree, trying to get my senses under control. "It's not untrue, exactly," I said. "but it's the logical answer."
I felt my voice soften. I hadn't spoken much at all since arriving in Shurwinn, and I hadn't told anyone about my past. I hadn't talked about Darwin at all. I decided to try. I would try talking to this man. It didn't feel like he had an ulterior motive, and he certainly didn't give me a romantic vibe. He looked like a grandfather— probably around sixty. So I started to talk about myself for the first time in months.
"I was badly injured. By medica standards, I had healed completely. But I continued to have symptoms. And the wounds were— beyond physical. My mind and emotions were wounded too. So I came to Shurwinn, not really knowing why, but needing a change. I felt a little better and liked the vegetarian food here. The curries are so good! But something started to change, and I wound up— well, fasting is the only thing I know to call it. I didn't know anything about fasting, I just found myself doing it, and I felt better. I was worried, though, that I might not be getting appropriate nutrition. I'm a medica, you know. So I started to research diets like this. There was some old information from Earth, and while it may not have had the scientific rigor that I am used to in my training, if there was something that could help me, I wanted to at least try it. Because the medica way hadn't been enough. And it's been helping."
I looked at him and smiled, "I can honestly say that I feel better than I ever have."
He gave me a small smile, "I'm glad to hear that you're better. You're from Starlend, correct?"
I nodded. He must've had access to my recon information. I didn't know how public recon files were on Shurwinn since I wasn't a citizen, but usually the information wasn't hard to find if you knew how to look. Either he knew how to look, or he had an official reason at the monastery to know about the off sphere in residence.
He said, "I once danced with a Level 9 Jendo."
My eyebrows lifted, and I couldn't help the excitement that rose inside me. I leaned towards him a little and asked, "And would you like to again?"
He smirked and asked, "Is that a formal request?"
"Formal request?" I replied.
He adjusted his posture and adopted a teaching demeanor, "In Tindin, we say to a friend we want to spar with, 'Are we dancing?' But formally we ask, 'Would you like to dance?' if the person is new to us."
I asked, "And 'dance' is 'spar?' Can you say it in Shurwinn?"
He nodded and requested in Shurwinn, "Would you like to dance, Ryst Nova?"
My face lit up with a huge grin, "When and where?"
"We greet the sun tomorrow in dojo six," he said, and stood up and walked away.
It all started with a song.
He sang it, of course.
And I finally understood what you both saw that no one else could see.
How big it was. And it was up to me.
The unseen was seen.
- Sibsil Creed, Stories of Shurwinn, (2772)
There were nine small, private dojo rooms off the large central dojo. My dance partner was opening the door to dojo 6 as I arrived. We wordlessly entered the room and began to greet the sun. I was excited. I hadn't sparred since the injury, and I was going to spar with a probable Level 9 in Tindin. How often did off spheres get to spar with Shurwinn masters? The scenario was ludicrous. I hadn't sparred in months, and I had never sparred Tindin. Not even at Level 1.
Sparring was a completely different scenario than moving through the forms. The forms trained my body to move in certain ways. Repeating them over and over across years made them instinctual. Facing an opponent, however, meant that I needed to utilize the forms creatively to defend or assert.
"Dance" was a good word for sparring because it was creative. To face a Level 9 opponent without ever sparring at Lower levels was futile. So, I planned to spar as a Level 9 Jendo, and I would see how weeks of Tindin training had influenced my Jendo skills. And I would find out if it was possible to keep a curtain around my mind when I was touching another person.
We progressed through the morning flow, moving mostly in tandem. Him the graceful adept, me the competent student. As the flow came to an end, we turned to face each other. I let him take the lead. He was the master; I was the child.
He struck. He was strong and lean and made of muscle. But I was smaller, faster, younger, and more flexible. It was very different parrying someone who was using Tindin forms instead of Jendo. I really did have to be creative, and he did too. I concentrated really hard, and my body felt good. It was like I was remembering something that I hadn't done before, but was familiar all the same.
I started to feel that he was having fun, and really enjoying the match. I was too, and I tried dialing back my awareness, turning my attention to only my movements. But you can't face an opponent without being aware of his movements. I lost my focus, and he pinned me. I tapped the floor and yielded. It hadn't really been much of a fight. I was outclassed, but I had held my own long enough to give him a good session.
We bowed to one another.
"You dance well, Dr. Nova. Would you like to be a Tindin acolyte here at Media?"
"Thank you, Master. It's Ryst, please, and are you asking me to be your student?" my eyebrows climbed up my forehead in disbelief.
"Not Master," he replied. "Only Denten. And yes, you can train as my acolyte."
"Thank you, Denten," I responded, stuttering. "I— I am grateful for the invitation."
He nodded to me. "We greet the sun here in dojo 6 tomorrow and each day you are present."
Dream Journal
I walked through a crowded starliner. There were people everywhere. I was so tired. So tired, and everything was fog. I couldn't tell where I was supposed to be going. I needed to find something, but I was just so tired. If I could only lie down. There was a bench, and I sat down. I laid my head on someone's shoulder next to me and closed my eyes. It felt so good to rest. I felt a hand on my cheek, and I wasn't alone.