#sarula

             “Ok, now you’re just making things up, what purpose can this possibly serve?” Val said, as she entered the crowded tavern downstairs of the Lesan Inn. She and Tara stood side by side, Val’s hands on her hips, Tara’s arms crossed, watching Amon and Rona.

              Those two were balancing in the middle of the floor, on one foot with the other leg stretched out directly in front, their supporting leg bent to a ninety degree angle and their arms held in front and, in Amon’s case, his tail wrapped around his torso.

              “Balance is the point. Balance within and without.” Amon said.

              “And why is Rona doing this? I thought you were learning pole-fighting, yeah?”

              “Amon needs to meditate and I wanted to keep him company… somehow… it became this.” Rona said, her voice taught against the strain in her muscles. Sweat was forming on both their brows and the tavern patrons were starting to take bets as to who would fail first.

              “There’s a sort of game- sort of training we can do next, but this always came first. The Masters said it was to establish balance but we novices always thought it was just to tire us out first.”

              “Then why are you doing it if you don’t even think it helps?” Asked Tara.

              “For Balance” he said. “Depending on where we were, sometimes we’d be balancing over burning embers, or on loose rock or ice or at the edge of a windy cliff, but that’s harder to do in a tavern.”

              “For which I thank the gods!” Called the Innkeeper, which sent laughs rippling around the watching crowd.

              “Right, well we’re going to go do some shopping for potions and the like – do you all want anything?” Asked Val.

              “Health potions?” Said Rona.

              “Better tasting trail rations?” Said Amon.

              “No such thing,” Said Val, “but I’ll see what we can do.”

                When the rest of the party returned to the Inn, they found Rona standing before a large boulder that she or Amon must have rolled in from outside. It was slightly large than Rona herself was. As they stepped inside, Amon spun around, whirling his booted foot into the boulder, which cracked, sending smaller pieces scattered around the room.

              There was a collective “oooh!” from the crowd, and Sarula watched as money changed hands. “What are you doing now?” they said as Rona cursed and Amon pulled his arms into his body, gathering the scattered pieces of earth into a solid boulder again.

              “Ok, ready? You take it now.” He said, and Rona dropped into a low stance, her feet spread wide, arms half outstretched, concentrating on the boulder. As she did so the others could see the boulder begin to shrink, the earth groaning, Rona’s face scrunching with effort.

              This time Amon stepped forward and slammed a steel-knuckled fist straight into it. The boulder wobbled but didn’t move or break. He punched again, and again. Small pieces were beginning to fly off, cracks forming. He rose a leg straight into the air and brought his heel down like an axe atop the boulder as Rona’s body suddenly slumped, and the rock shattered into pieces.

              “If I find rocks on my floor, I’m charging you extra!” The Inkeep called now, but with a smile on his face as he filled tankards for the gathered crowd. Apparently Amon and Rona’s training had become somewhat of a spectator sport.

              “We’re training.” Rona said.

              “You’re connection to the elements is undeniable, and the power you wield it with is overwhelming” Amon said to her, “but there is another power within the elements, and within you and the air, the gods and the planes. You cannot simply wield it like a god and overwhelm your enemies, or the environment, because it is in them too.”

              “That old lady really got to you, huh?” Said Tara.

              “She echoed what I’d heard often.” He said. “Ianry understands, that’s how fire feels, right? Almost like another heartbeat?”

              Ianry shrugged. “I guess, I don’t know what life is like without feeling that so how would I know?”

              Amon flicked his tail at him.

              Rona looked up at Amon. “I know that, I can feel it too but I don’t know what you mean by not wielding it like power. I learned to call in such a way that the wilds answer, but its also almost like alchemy – you call to a seed to sprout a vine, you call to the water in the soil and the air to make a tidal wave, you call to the little pieces of rock in a boulder, and it all condenses together.”

              Amon looked at her quizzically. “So that’s how you do it? That’s fascinating. I get that, to walk over walls I just kind of focus on the earth under my feet, and the air around me and sandwich myself between them, but it is already there. I hadn’t really thought of it like a science though.”

              “Yeah, what you’re talking about sounds more like Ianry’s magic.” Rona said, frowning.

              “Sort of, you can learn it though. It becomes more like… a relationship? Like when you look into someone’s eyes and you can feel what they feel, if only for a second.” He said.

              Rona and Val inadvertently locked eyes. “I think… maybe I think I can understand that.” Rona said.

              “Wait, so you’re like, having sexual tension with a rock?” Ianry said. “That’s not at all what I do.”

              Amon ignored him and squared up with Rona again. “Ready?” She nodded. “Remember, it isn’t about answering power, its about a relationship – two parts of one energy seeking balance.”

               They repeated the process until Rona was physically falling over when her rock was shattered.

              “Ok, I think you all could use a break and a snack.” Val said, from the table where the rest of the party had been resting and watching.

              “No! I think I figured something out!” Rona said through gritted teeth. She rose to her feet again and looked at Amon. “This is like fighting right?”

              Amon nodded “It can be.”

              “Ok, I think I’ve got it, lets go again!” She said, bracing herself before the boulder.

              Amon swung is foot up again in another axe-kick – the kind his friends had seen shatter bones, and brought his steel-clad heel crashing down. But instead of a crunch or crack, there was a soft “ptch” as his foot landed it what had suddenly become a pillar of sand. He wrenched his foot out and spun around, swinging the back of his fist towards – nothing, as the pillar of sand collapsed onto the ground. Not losing his balance, he shifted into an open stance and swept his tail at the loose sand, which pulled together into a round boulder which rolled away before becoming vaguely cubical and shuddering to a halt.

              Amon grinned ear to hear, gazing down at Rona who looked up at him with a fierce and wild expression. “It takes most of us at least a week to figure that one out. Now the real fun begins.”

              For the next few hours the pair took turns using whatever strategy they could think of to protect the boulder the others attacks. Amon often hardened just the part of the boulder facing the blow, while Rona swiftly transformed the rock to avoid attacks. Both were fans of suddenly turning it into a sphere and letting it roll across the tavern floor while patrons gleefully lifted their chairs out of the way. Eventually they even split it into two large rocks and let their friends and random patrons take turns trying to shatter it. There was little either of them could do but dodge when Tara broke out her Crab Hammer, which routinely showered those in the “splash zone” with pebbles.

              Only when Amon slipped on the puddle of sweat that had formed beneath them did the Innkeep insist the games end. Rona rolled out the boulders and Amon used rags to clean the sweat from the floor, too tired to use his ki magic.

              “Well, my star pupil, I don’t know about you but I’m taking a long bath.” He said, slinging his tail around Rona’s shoulders as they headed upstairs.

              “Ugh, me too. Do you feel better?” She said, tugging at the tuft of hair at the end of his tail to keep it out of her face.

              He whipped his tail side to side and paused on the stairs for a moment. “Yes, things make more sense, I think.”

              “You think? So I’m guessing more of this tomorrow?” She said, smiling at him over her shoulder.

              He grinned back. “If you’re up for it – you’ve got a lot of work to do yourself.”

              “MMmmmaybe” she said “Or maybe I’ll whip up a nice big lunch and just watch, I’m starving.”

              Down in the tavern, Sarula was smiling up at their retreating bodies. “That doesn’t make any sense to me, but I’m glad they’re doing ok.” They said to the party.

              “Monks relaxing looks exhausting.” Said Tara. “And messy.” She fished a small pebble out of her drink.

              “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to turn in for the night.” Val said hurriedly, already halfway up the stairs.  

              “I’m not!” Said Ianry “You guys want to play cards or something?”

              “Now that sounds more my speed!” Said Ievos, pulling up a chair next to Sarula. “What do you say?”

              Sarula grinned. “Sure, now that its actually quiet enough to play.”

                Upstairs, Amon was in his room alone, staring into the bright blade of the sword he called the Taiyang Jian, the “Sunlit Sword.” In his mind he weighed the teachings of his Order, echoed by Urgath. He saw the Planes in a constant dance of entropy, crashing into temporary balance before sending each other spinning off again into one another’s gravity. He saw his mother walking into the woods to find him, his sisters slung on each hip. He saw the yawning portal of water breaking loose of the mirror’s frame, his friends embroiled in battle against the Aboleth, and the shadows retreating from the swinging blade of light above the Black Dragon’s seal. He imagined Urgath’s hut in flames, the hate in the old captain’s eyes, recalled his own burning rage.