"I failed?" Cecil sounds distraught. Very silly.
"Your body failed, your mind did not. That's good enough. Now you need to eat." Z eats, right? Where is Z?
"Do you even eat? I haven't seen you eat." Do I eat?
"I eat the fire." Cecil frowns in response.
"That just means you are starving. I eat the magic if I starve myself too." I can feel a scolding approaching. But! I am not dumb.
"I think if I add fuel to the fire I'll melt." I shake my head "No eating." I step forward. Onward to the food. It's somewhere here.
Silence is the tune of the forest for a while. Accompanied by the echo's of our moving across the snow. Broken by curiosity.
"So... how do I use the thing you use? I don't feel any different. Teach away, Teach." The initiation rite.
"Dié É Zhī Yí. You must join the Garden." I stop and look around. Snow. Trees. I need to begin growing the Garden. But I can't just make flowers, I'm a good guy.
"Did I... not join..? Am I not a member by being your student?" I shake my head.
"Living in The Garden and being part of it are not the same thing. To join is simple." I gesture to the ground. "You need only meditate, and request Dié É Zhī Yí"
"Meditate?" Cecil's response is puzzling to me. She looks... annoyed? Confused? "I just sit and think?" No. That's wrong.
"Meditating begins by not thinking." Cecil's expressions turns to bewildered.
"Huh? Not think? How does one not think, that doesn't make sense!" ??? I now share her confusion. Just don't think? It's not hard. Am I the only teacher in this entire land?
"You just stop thinking! Relax. Focus!" Cecil crosses her arms. Now I am annoyed, a flame appears atop my hand, I begin trying to wave it away.
Cecil sighs. "Alright... Sit and... fucking cease thinking somehow, sure." Cecil does as told, sitting down, closing her eyes. I can tell it isn't going well, there is no aura of calm from Cecil. But I will wait. Teachers should be patient.
Time passes, Cecil opens her eyes. She looks like she wallowed in stress instead of finding silent calm. "Look... this isn't gonna work.. aren't you the boss? Can't you just say I am part of the Garden?"
"No. The Garden itself has to accept you. All I can do is declare this your home. You live here." I am small. I cannot control The Garden like that yet.
"Can I just ask the Garden instead of meditating? Talk to a flower or something..?" I pause. Looking around, trying to determine the way to the grave. Cecil's words may be true. Why do you have to meditate to ask?
Inky crawls through the mark, moving atop my head. Holding a flower, one from the grave. "Yeah! Ask the plant for help. Why not?" Inky is giggling, her tone sounds as though she makes fun of us. The flower is tossed to Cecil.
"So... how do I say it again? Blah blah blah?" Cecil is rude sometimes.
"Dié É Zhī Yí" I take a stick, writing into the snow. 蝶蛾之移 "The Rite of Butterflies and Moths"
"Alright.." Cecil looks to the flower, holding it up, face to face. "Uh. Garden, may I undergo The Rite of Butterflies and Moths?" As soon as she finishes her question, she vanishes, the only thing left behind is Lavender petals.
"Huh?" Inky flops down, slithering to the spot where Cecil was. "This goes against the Laws of Magic, The Laws of Aura, and the Laws of Spirit." She picks up one of the petals. "I suppose it could of be Druidic but in all the libraries I've read, there is nothing like this in Druidic stories." She turns to me. "I've witnessed the impossible."
"I told you before, this is a Ki technique." Does Inky forget her own words?
"To be honest, I mainly just said things to go along with what you thought was going on. Mixing in some smart words and basic teachings to satisfy my ego. I simply assumed you were under trauma induced delusions." She turns to the pile of petals, a pool of Ink begins to form.
"I had very good teachers, Inky. I know the things!" Inky gives me the side eye before motioning her hand, a white outline of a circle appears in the ink.
"When reaching the wall of impossibility. Theoretical and Practical. The options that remain, no matter how unlikely must be investigated properly." The pool vanishes, along with the petals. "The idea that over the course of about two million years not a single person has discovered this, as you say abundant supernatural power. Ki." Inky sinks into the ground. "Well, it's completely ridiculous." She's Gone.
"Mother never mentioned any of those things either. How come we never used them? Is Ki just better?" I stop, looking around. Boredom is coming. "Father said the rite can take mere moments to several months." I guess I just wait, back to the pit.
Back at the pit. Z is here, with Ball and all the other animals. The beast are cultivating, ball is swinging a wooden sword at a dummy. I shall join! "Ball!"
Ball looks to me, walking off into the trees for a moment, returning with a staff. I take. But there is only one dummy. Ball already had a turn, so is mine now yes? I shall practice the dance.
That which brings death, a beautiful game of distance and lethal strikes. Accompanied by flame, and the visage of butterflies. At least that's what it's supposed to look like. But my face is planted in the snow. My legs just didn't listen to me. I know how to do it. I tried to do the first step, and blam. Snow face. Worst of all? I can't feel the cold...
Ball helps me up. Now I need to explain this... "I only tripped! But in my time on the ground I decided to show such majesty to a beginner is rude. I shall show you once you have advanced!" Yes.
Ball begins it's routine. It is... very sad. There is not even a twitch of personality in these strikes, just straight slashes. And ball isn't even hitting the dummy. The tip of the blade is always just out of reach. It just... doesn't look like people. Like a doll mimicking something.
"Ball. Without personality, your strikes will never reach anyone. A dance is not simply fighting. Without Intent, a strike is nothing." Sister was much better at this than me. She was skilled in every weapon. I cannot teach Ball through example. Less I give the wrong lessons.
Ball stops, planting the sword into the ground. Looking at the sword shaped stick and itself. What is going on in that head? Does Ball even think at all? People think, Inky said Ball is Monster, not people.
"Do you need one?" Z's voice. Turning round I see him sitting. I can tell, Z is the verge of a breakthrough into the next stage.
"Yes. Is there more dummies?" Z nods and leads me to a small shed. There is wooden versions of various weapons in here, along with dummies and instruction papers. "When did Ball make this?"
"While you were unconscious." Z stands next to one of the dummies, which I nock over onto his back. Gracefully carrying it over next to where Ball was practicing. Ball's done now. Watching the fire. Z sets up the dummy for me.
Until the Moon is high in the sky, until I am ready for bed. I trained, but I never once did the first step properly. I cannot find the harmony between my thoughts, my staff, my lower body, and my upper body. At least I only fell over a few times...
Sleep is just as terrible. There is only uncomfortable heat, no matter how much snow I lay atop myself. Cold cannot find me.
The next Moons are the same. The animals found food. Ball and I don't make any progress. At least Z is doing wonders, it won't be long until the tribulation. And the base is being built up more each day. We have a cabin now.
Thirteen moons would pass before something shakes up our routine.
Cecil is back, appearing just outside the pit. Quickly standing, holding out her dagger, her gaze erratic. Like she's looking for threats. Her stance calms when she spots me and everyone else.
"... Sup." Sup? Supper? Sippy? I tilt my head. Cecil says some strange things.
"Hello?" Offering a bowl of fish meat.
"This doesn't look edible." Cecil accepts the bowl, taking a few bites. There's a butterfly atop her head.
"You found a technique! What's it called?" Cecil shrugs.
"I don't know how . It showed me text at some point but I can't read that." I motion for her to come down to my level. She is gulfing down the fish, so barbaric.
The butterfly has wings made of shattered glass. They glisten with countless colors. I take a stick and write into the ground, pointing at each symbol as I say it. 破镜蝶
"Pò Jìng Dié. Broken Mirror Butterfly."