BA:F - The Book of Zo - Chapter 5

The encompassing darkness nagged at the worry in my gut. I wasn’t going to walk blind into this test. With a thought, I called up stored ry and let it flow down my right arm. I swirled my wrist and forearm as I held my elbow steady. Yellow light formed in halo as my hand swooped around and around.

When the glow was bright enough—about ten turns—I thrust my hand forward, throwing the ry munje to the center of the room. The light burst in a shower of sparks a few meters away from me, illuminating three figures but for a second.

“Good,” someone whispered behind me in the hall and I spun, fists guarding my face. “Jumpy?” the voice tickled the back of my neck and I turned again, but there was no one there.

“Show me what you’ve got!” the voice of a younger woman rushed at me from the side and I raised my guard.

A solid hit bashed against my forearm and pushed me off balance. I poured zo munje into my legs and the muscles flexed with excitement. I leapt sideways and listened for her next assault.

Above!

I twisted out of the way and threw a backhand where I heard her land. The shot whiffed over her head and I caught a glimpse of bright red hair and unnatural black eyes that glowed with zo. She lunged with an uppercut and I turned again, barely avoiding the strike.

Pain radiated through my chest as her leg connected with my sternum. I staggered back, trying to catch my breath, when agony like a sharp knife lanced through my mid-back and up my spine. I fell forward and landed on my hands, directing zo into my fingertips. I scrambled across the floor like a lizard, desperate to get a second’s pause from her assault.

She laughed, pursuing me.

I heard her stomping foot coming just in time and pushed myself left. I avoided the crippling blow as I rolled onto my back. The second stomp came down as I predicted and I grabbed the assaulting leg, rotating the foot well beyond breaking point.

The woman jumped, following the twist of her leg through with the rest of her body, then pushed her foot down toward my chest once more. I pulled her leg down to the side, taking her off balance.

I sent more zo to my feet and pushed myself out of the way, my dobok sliding easily on the polished stone. The red-haired fighter flew after me in a gravity defying display unlike anything I’d ever seen. Her heel sliced through the air as her leg came down in a deadly arc that would surely split my skull, but there was no time to move.

I crossed my forearms in front of my face and directed zo to reinforce the spot. I caught the offending ankle and held fast. I couldn’t let her get away and wind up for a more powerful attack. I locked her foot under my arm as she dropped her knee into my gut. Half-digested porridge squished up my esophagus, but I held it down with a quick, desperate swallow.

Breathing was difficult, but I managed a small breath as she wound up for the next assault. Her black glowing fist jabbed my nose and sent my vision to darkness. In the black, I saw the zo blocked in my constricted pathways. The reservoir was clammed up from fear, and the munje trickled like a dying stream.

A second jab bounced my head against the stone, and I knew I couldn’t take a third. As she pulled her fist back, I kicked my legs up and locked one around her neck. I straightened my body and pulled her down to the ground in a clumsy leg-lock. I sat up and reached for her arm, trying to keep her under control, but she pried herself out of my grip.

“Not bad,” she whispered, rubbing her throat while she gained her feet.

I panted through my mouth and rubbed blood from my upper lip. “Thank you.”

She made herself small by tucking her elbows in, and lunged forward. I forced all my zo to guard my chest, tucking my own elbows against my sides as I pulled my face behind my fists. She had a strange fighting style, something that was never taught in Primary in Namnak, but I’d seen enough post bot-fight brawls to know how to defend myself.

A flurry of blows beat against my arms and flew at my face. I dodged and pulled back, avoiding the powerful full-body strikes by sidestepping. The iron taste of blood filled my mouth as I panted. My constricted lungs struggled to draw in enough air to keep my heartrate stable and my body was getting weak. I had to get on the offensive.

The red-haired demon spun with a high kick aimed for my shoulder. I turned sideways and took the blow as I grabbed her leg. I stepped into her guard and put my leg behind hers, then forced her back.

The air whoofed from her lungs as I dropped her to the stone. I pinched her kicking leg against my side, and she wrapped her free leg around my back as she tried to twist me out of the top position. She swung up toward my face, but I couldn’t give her the distance. I needed to stay close to win, and so I took the hit.

I pushed my bodyweight forward and pinned my hand to her collar bone, then hammered blow after blow into her side. She twisted her legs, squeezing until I felt my lower ribs flexing into my chest cavity, but I didn’t relent. She landed a few more feeble punches against my shoulders, since it was all she could reach.

I infused the next hit with the remainder of my stored zo. My fist landed against her side with a loud snap and she yowled in pain. She reached up to push me away and I landed another blow against her arm. The elbow joint caved in the wrong direction and she screamed.

“Enough!” A man boomed and the room illuminated.

I released my opponent and came up to my knees, bowing deeply to her. “Thank you for the challenge,” I said nasally as blood continued its slow drip down my lips.

The redhead sat up and the unnatural glow of zo munje in her eyes vanished, revealing glistening sapphire irises. Black zo curled down her arm from her chest and settled around her elbow and it popped as the joint bent back into proper place. The zo flowed up her arm and settled on her ribs. There was another grinding crack and she gritted her teeth. Finally, the black munje settled, and disappeared. 

She dipped her head to me. “Likewise.”

A man in a flowing green hanbok stepped forward, his shoes making no noise against the stone. “You’re dismissed, Rae-li.”

“Thank you, Master Sung-ki.” Rae-li bowed deeply to the master and strode from the room as if nothing had happened.

I climbed to my feet with a wince, holding my gut as if it would help against the pain. I faced the mid-fifties master with short, jet-black hair and a matching mustache like a catfish. He circled me and I felt his appraising eyes. The tingle of ry munje poked and prodded at my insides, looking for all my imperfections. His ry felt like cinnamon and smelled like pine, and I followed the sensations to his destination; my core.

“Can you heal yourself?” Master Sung-ki asked as he came to a stop in front of me.

“Yes, sir.” I pulled a breath through my mouth and it felt heavy, yet somehow empty, as if there was no air in my lungs at all. I closed my eyes and looked to my reservoir for the last of the zo munje I’d stored. There wasn’t enough left for my nose, my neck, and the bruised ribs. I focused on repairing the bones in my nose, which was surely more impressive than healing skin or damaged blood vessels. Moving bones took a considerable amount more focus and energy than surface level wounds.

Tears came to my eyes as the bones in my nose cracked again. A fresh wave of blood trickled down my upper lip and I brushed it away with the sleeve of my dobok. He grunted approval and turned away to a table at the back of the extraordinarily large room.

I took a moment to identify my surroundings now that they weren’t shrouded in darkness. There were stained outlines on the glossy floors, and it was apparent that there had been display pedestals and desks of some kind in here not long before. The thick red curtains were sun-bleached in areas at the tops of the folds, and beyond them, the windows hadn’t seen cleaning in months it seemed.

The ceiling was tall with a mural painted at the top depicting the life of the ancient ones. This mural depicted a dance between two giant men, battling for supremacy of a ring. They wore small coverings over their lower half, had long hair in buns behind their heads, and screamed war cries at each other. An audience of eager observers cheered in the background.

So much wasn’t known about what happened to the ancients, but with the relics of the past and some accounts from Ghosts, we were able to identify how they’d lived before they disappeared. This dance was called Sumo and was thought to help keep the spirits at bay; or at least, that’s what we thought. The true purpose might never be known.

“Come here, Jiyong.” Master Sung-ki said and my gaze snapped down to meet him. There was the hint of amusement in his eyes and I realized I’d been staring open-mouthed at the mural.

I crossed the room to meet him at the table. There were three objects sitting on top of the thin metal surface: a potted dragon fern on the verge of death, a glass of water, and a pot of rich-looking soil.

“Save it.” Master Sung-ki stepped back and allowed me to stand in front of my task.

No point in complaining, I reminded myself for what felt like the millionth time today. Li was not my specialty, but I had stored a significant amount of it just for something like this.

My nose whistled as I pulled in a pained breath. My lungs still ached from Rae-li’s knee in my gut. I closed my eyes and released li munje down my arm and into the tip of my right finger. I reached out and touched the long, slender, crumbling leaves of the sickly dragon fern.

What’s wrong with you, little plant? I mused in my head, allowing my mind to be consumed by the feel of the leaves, the moisture in the roots, the circulation of nutrients. Show me your pain so I can heal you. 

But there was no reply. Suyi told me to speak to the trees and they would speak back, but perhaps years of working in the arborum—cutting trees down—made me immune to their communications. Or perhaps they didn’t want to talk to me.

I sent more li munje down my arm and into the leaf, down to the root, back up the other side, but I couldn’t understand what ailed it. All I saw were the symptoms: dry leaves, lack of sun absorption, missing nutrients.

I opened my eyes and took another slow breath through my nose. “May I move the table, Master?”

Sung-ki quirked an eyebrow but nodded. I picked up the table, careful not to tip the water, and moved toward the window. I threw back the shades so that the indirect sun could reach the crisped leaves, then looked down on the sickly dragon fern.

I knew I couldn’t work the li munje the way that Eun-bi and Suyi could, but I had to try. I pushed li munje into my hand and dug down into the dirt, asking the plant to strengthen its roots. It pulled free from the loose, dry earth easily. I moved to the second pot and scooted the dirt aside, making space.

When I felt it was in the best position possible, I willed the roots to push out and explore the new space. I used my left hand to lift a bit of water from the cup with en munje—since I assumed that was part of the test—and directed it to the newly planted fern.

Grow, I whispered in my mind, pumping more of my reserved li into the plant to support it. Slowly, color returned to the leaves, but it wasn’t quite as it should’ve been. Dragon ferns were brilliant green with red stripes down the long leaves, and mine was dull. But, after a few minutes of effort and pleading, the plant perked up.

The catfish mustached Sung-ki tutted. “That was certainly the most hands-on demonstration I’d ever seen. Your li munje, and your instincts, need work.”

Devastation threatened to wash over me, but I held the irrational emotion at bay, bowing to the Master. “Thank you, sir. My li munje is not my strongest.”

He nodded as he inspected the fern. “That is apparent. Well, Woong-ji, I leave the rest to you.” Master Sung-ki turned away without another word and headed for the door.

That’s right. There had been three figures in the room before. How had I been so stupid not to notice the missing third when the lights came up?

An older woman laughed and the air next to me shimmered as a ry glimmer dropped away. She was much shorter than me, the top of her head up to my mid-chest, and her short salt and pepper hair was wildly curled in every direction without order. She wore a purple hanbok with silver buttons made from old machine gears. There was a pin holding back some of her wild hair, likewise, made from recycled machine parts.

“Are you ready for the final test?” She asked with a broad grin.

I wasn’t sure if I was, but it didn’t matter. I was going to take it. “Yes, Master Woong-ji.”

She hmphed once with amusement, her dark eyes sparkling. “Show me your core.”

“My munje core?” I asked, baffled.

She laughed out loud. “No, your nougaty center!” she joked—I assumed—about a common song from the ancient ones. “Yes, your munje core. Project it for me with ry.”

I pulled in another deep breath, slow and whistling through my nose, and closed my eyes. I visualized my core and all its parts: the sliding band, the rotating tops and bottoms, the smaller than average crystal, and the monstrously huge reservoir I’d built below it. 

When I had the vision strongly in my mind, I twisted my arm at the elbow, allowing ry munje to leak out through my fingertips. I drew through the air, following every line and crevasse, every block and split, every cog and switch. It took me several minutes, and when I’d finished, she hummed with appraisal.

I opened my eyes to the golden vision of my core before me. It wasn’t nearly as clean as it had been in my mind, but it got the point across.

“Your ry is weak, but this core is interesting. Where did you learn to build it like this? Certainly not outer-city primary…” She walked around the illusion I’d built for her and inspected it carefully.

I bowed on instinct. “From my father, Master.”

She looked at me with curiosity. “And who was he?”

My mouth went dry. I didn’t know. Ten years of living with him and almost six missing him, yet I still didn’t know who he was. But I did know about him, and his past. I hoped that was enough. “His name is Hiroto.”

“Your father is from across the sea?” She asked, surprised.

I nodded. “His parents were refugees. He met my mother, Moon, in Primary.”

Woong-ji smiled. “That’s lovely. Well, thank you for coming. We’ll send message by way of letter to your residence with our verdict within the week. You’re dismissed.”

That was it? That couldn’t be the whole test. “Forgive my insolence, Master Woong-ji, but are there no other tests?”

She chuckled, a high-pitched noise she made with her mouth closed that shook her shoulders. “Your insolence is forgiven. Yes, that is the whole test.”

“But, I had so much more I wanted to show you,” I said, feeling despair creeping back over me.

Her cheeks rounded softly as she grinned. “I’m sure you have much to offer, and we will make our assessments shortly. Do you have a fallback academy?”

The words hit me in the gut harder than Rae-li’s knee. “No. I only want to attend Bastion.”

She cocked her head with amusement. “Why?”

I blinked. “Bastion is the best.”

“The best at what?”

Why was she asking me something she knew the answer to? “The best at everything. Everyone who graduates a Bastion goes on to achieve great things.”

She nodded. “What great things to you want to achieve?”

It was another moment for honesty. I didn’t know this woman and sharing everything with her could risk not just my reputation, but my family’s honor. But lies would be disrespectful, even if lying by omission, and this woman could become my new teacher one day.

I steeled myself for the worst. “I want to discover the secrets of the ancients and bring enlightenment to all people. I want to help destroy poverty, disease, and pain. I want to unlock our destiny.”

She hummed again, a sly grin playing on her lips. “You will hear from us within the week, Jiyong Law. You’re dismissed.”