CHAPTER NINETEEN
When Orochi left Perseverance it left Moriko rudderless, cast upon a fierce ocean set on destroying her. She had no recourse, no way to safety and a harbor that would shelter her. While he had been at the monastery she had not realized how great of an outsider she was becoming, how separated she was from the normal day-to-day tasks of the monks. There was nothing binding her to the monastery any longer.
Her training with him had a powerful effect. It gave her a confidence she didn’t believe possible. She knew she was stronger than any of the monks in the monastery. Where they had once maintained an aura of power, the authority that had once seemed supreme now seemed meaningless. Her only concern, the only unknown in the equations she struggled to solve, was the Abbot.
Moriko understood the skill sets of the monk. Orochi had taught her more about the monastic system than the monks ever had. She knew the strengths and weaknesses of their methods. If necessary she knew how to kill them. She had lost her fear of any of them. Goro was the leader of the pack, not because he was stronger, but because he was the most cruel and most in favor with the Abbot.
The Abbot was a different matter. He possessed an affinity with the sense Moriko didn’t understand. She thought she could best him if she understood his powers. But it was rare for him to display his full power so she had little opportunity to assess him. She tried to remember what combat with him had been like, but her mind was unwilling to recall the specifics of a day she’d rather forget.
Her uncertainty and her training with Orochi put her in an awkward position in more ways than one. She desired to leave and was confident she had the ability to leave without worry of pursuit. But she didn’t know what she would do if she left. She respected Orochi, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to live like him. She was almost of full adult age, but she didn’t know how to exist in the world outside of the monastery walls. Her skill sets weren’t conducive to finding typical employment.
She used to find solace in the routine and rules of the monastery, but now the rules didn’t apply to her. No monk came to order her around, and no monk came to invite her to anything. Every time she saw one of them glance at her, she knew she was outcast. She had been angry at first, but as time wore down her anger she realized the monks were just as uncomfortable as her. She had fought with them and tried to defeat a man they all looked up to. In their minds she was a traitor. A traitor only alive by the grace of the Abbot. She did not belong with them.
For a couple of days after Orochi left Moriko wandered around aimlessly hoping someone would invite her in to their activities. But the monks left her alone, ignoring her as though she was a ghost. She wasn’t accepted, but no one reprimanded her either.
In time she began training again. She had to do something and so she continued with the practices she knew. She woke up early in the morning with all the other monks and joined in their morning calisthenics. Afterwards she forced herself to meditate for most of the morning, focusing on her sense-abilities in the manner Orochi had taught her. She focused on being invisible to others and worked on expanding her own sense. Orochi taught her there wasn’t any limit to the reach of the sense. It was more a matter of how much information you could train your mind to comprehend. The further out your sense stretched, the more information your mind was forced to deal with. If it could handle it your sense would continue to expand. Once the mind couldn’t process all the information the sense wouldn’t stretch any further.
Moriko practiced. She focused on sensing everything happening in the monastery, focusing on all life big and small. Once she could handle that amount of information she expanded her sense one pace at a time, tendrils flickering out and reaching new distances. It was a slow process, but Orochi had emphasized patience, and over the course of a couple of moons, Moriko made significant progress. She had learned to reach out several dozen paces further than she had when Orochi left.
She would join the monks for the community lunch and then trained her combat skills. Orochi had opened her eyes to a new system of martial skills and Moriko worked diligently to master them. It was much more difficult without a partner, but she was determined to be strong enough to fight her own battles. She imagined the voice of Orochi in her mind correcting her technique.
As Moriko got stronger life in and out of the monastery continued to participate in the Great Cycle. Moriko didn’t think much about events until an incident that occurred in the deep of winter. Goro had left again in a joyous mood. Moriko, who had become an experienced observer of all the patterns of the monastery, suspected he had left to go hunting for future monks. The search for new monks was never-ending. Monks were always leaving to test new students, but few enjoyed the process of separating children from their families as much as Goro.
Goro’s departure made Moriko reflect upon her own life. She thought back to her own arrival at the monastery, how much she had hated Goro and how much she had hated living at the monastery. She had fought against it so hard and had been the last child in her cohort to entertain the idea of escaping the monastery. She realized, with a start, she no longer hated the monastery in the same way. She still hated its practices, but she didn’t hate living here anymore. Even though she had the skills to escape she was more comfortable here and didn’t leave.
The sudden knowledge surprised her. When had she stopped dreaming of leaving the monastery? It must have been around Orochi’s arrival. She had been ready to resist training until death. But he had shown her a new way, a path she had never considered before. She had never imagined she could become so strong.
But by being stronger, her desire to live had increased. She had the power to make change now, no longer helpless in the world.
Her train of thought led her to thinking about the type of girl she had been growing up with her parents, what type of life she had dreamed for herself back when she had only seen five cycles. Her dream had been to be in the deep woods, her first love. She wanted to be among the trees, sensing the mystery of life and death that was so prevalent everywhere in the wilderness.
A couple of moons ago, the thought would have made her chuckle at her foolish youthful ambitions. Today though, watching Goro leave on his task, it made her sad she had lost her dream. She searched her memory, trying to find the love of the wild she had once held, the desire to break all constraints and live within the Great Cycle. But she couldn’t find it, the memory erased by the slow passage of time.
In Goro’s absence, Moriko tried to forget the realization of her change. She threw herself into her training, focusing only on the task before her. It helped, but there was still the nagging feeling in the back of her mind she had lost something, a key piece of herself that had been erased so gradually she never knew it had happened.
Goro returned two days later. He wasn’t alone. He returned with a small girl slung over the back of his horse and tied down. His arrival made Moriko frown. There was rarely any reason to tie somebody up. It lacked a certain amount of confidence. It got everything off on the wrong foot. She observed the situation and threw out her sense.
The girl was boiling with rage. Moriko didn’t need her sense to understand that. But she sensed something wasn’t quite right with Goro. She opened her eyes and looked. He was moving with some pain and it dawned on Moriko that the girl had gotten the best of him. She had cut him somehow. The thought of a little girl getting the drop on Goro was funny enough she let out a full grin. She already liked the new girl.
The thought cracked Moriko’s fragile defenses. The girl was just like she had been, but Moriko had become a part of the system she despised. If the girl looked at her she would see just another monk, not someone separate or superior to the man who had stolen her from her family.
Events transpiring in front of Moriko brought her attention front and center. Goro wasn’t just injured, he was furious. He cut the rope holding her to the horse, but he didn’t untie her wrists or ankles. She slipped off the horse and tried to land on her feet, but they were well tied and she fell over, unable to break her fall with her wrists tied behind her. Moriko winced.
Goro laughed and Moriko’s hand went to her sword. Not today. She wouldn’t melt into the background and become another monk who let this happen. She could at least stand up for the girl.
Moriko scanned the monastery. Business was proceeding as usual, and no one was paying any particular attention to Goro and his cruelty. Moriko closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She went deep inside herself, hiding her power, and crept towards him. Worry slipped away as her training with Orochi took over. She wasn’t going to be the one to attack. She wasn’t sure what her status was in the monastery, but killing Goro would bring things to their inevitable conclusion more quickly than she was prepared for.
Her only goal was to save the girl and remove her from Goro’s wrath.
Moriko reached Goro without him sensing her. She enjoyed the power over him as she cleared her throat. She smiled as Goro jumped. He spun around, realization dawning on him. He was about to reach for his blade, but saw she wasn’t there to fight, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. Prepared, but not threatening.
“Untie the girl, Goro.”
Goro didn’t respond. Moriko thought she could hear his brain running circles around the problem. He had rank on Moriko, but Moriko’s tone of voice indicated she didn’t care. It had been an order, not a request. If he was going to defy her, he was going to have to fight her, and he was injured. She saw his fear. He knew she was stronger.
He took the coward’s path.
“The girl is dangerous! She cut me. If I untie her now she could be a danger both to others and herself.”
“Untie the girl, Goro.”
“She needs to have an audience with the Abbot. You know the procedure. We can’t let her near him if she poses a risk to people.”
Moriko didn’t respond, her posture strong.
Goro looked frantically about for assistance from some corner, but the monks who had been so conveniently ignoring his cruelty were ignoring his current plight as well. He bent to her will. Orochi had taught her true power. Power was the ability to bend others through persuasiveness, charm, or threats. She felt like she had a preference for threats.
Goro untied the girl, and true to form, she attempted to strike him again the moment she was free. It was subtle, but Moriko caught it, and grabbed the girl’s arm.
“He’s not worth it. Trust me.”
The girl stared with hatred deep into Moriko’s eyes. She returned the gaze, hoping the calm pool of her soul would quiet this girl down. She had no malice, no hatred, and even some sympathy for this girl. The girl picked up on it. She relaxed, but Moriko could sense it was skin-deep. Her hatred still burned. Already, Moriko thought, she is working at hiding her true intent. Good.
When Moriko was confident the girl wouldn’t strike again she let go of the girl’s arm. Goro, clueless as to what had just transpired, started to whimper something about procedure, but was cut off mid-sentence by Moriko’s glare. She knew what had to be done and wasn’t willing to push the issue more than she already had. She had accomplished enough for today.
She led the girl to the Abbot’s quarters to present her to him. Moriko could feel the Abbot starting to show off his strength, waves of energy emanating throughout the monastery. Moriko glanced at the girl. She couldn’t tell if the girl noticed the Abbot’s energy or not. Whatever the case, the girl was doing her best to hold herself together, and was doing an admirable job of it.
“What’s your name?”
The girl was silent.
“My name is Moriko. I want to get out of here too, but it’s very hard, and I’ll need your help. The people who are here, and the person you are about to meet, are very strong.”
It was a white lie. The girl couldn’t help Moriko escape the monastery, but if it helped her open up, to trust at least one person, it was worth it. The girl weighed the new information, debating whether or not she wanted to trust Moriko. She was young and desperate for an ally. She trusted Moriko despite her wariness.
“My name is Aina.”
“That’s a beautiful name, Aina. I have to take you to the person who runs this monastery now. If I don’t, I’m going to get into a lot of trouble. He’s not a good person, but he’s not going to hurt you, ok? I’ll be with you the entire time. It will only take a little while, and then you’ll be able to go find a spot to rest for the rest of the day.”
Aina nodded. Once she made the decision to trust Moriko, it was clear she would do anything Moriko said without complaint. Moriko went back on her own assessment. Maybe there would be a way to use someone who trusted her. She went through possibilities in her mind, but the only solutions she came up with involved betrayal of that trust, which she wouldn’t allow.
Her mind embroiled in thought, Moriko went through the procedure of introducing and presenting Aina to the Abbot. The Abbot, although happy to show off his power to a new student who could sense what he was doing, was otherwise distracted, and went through the formal motions quickly and without fanfare. Moriko had expected a small interview, similar to the one she had gone through when she had been presented, but there was none of that today. Aina was introduced, the Abbot welcomed her, and then she was let go.
Moriko brought Aina to the quarters of the monastery and introduced her to a small room where the youngest of the monks lived. Her introduction to the rest of the trainees made her think that perhaps having Aina’s trust wasn’t such a good thing for Aina. The moment Moriko walked into the room everything became quiet, and the other students seemed to shy away from Aina.