Complications

At first, I was deeply shaken by the untold quarrel between Tariro and me. I never had many friends or family members in my life, but I had always been content with them. As I was the eldest, my parents were more demanding than caring toward me. Yet, I felt the unsaid love we shared. Their expectations reflected their wish for my success and happiness. The child I once was had been fulfilled with parents like them. I was also blessed with a little sister and a little brother. As the youngest, my little brother was overprotected and preferred to spend his time near my parents. This is why I was not very close to him, but he was nice nonetheless. Things were completely different with my little sister. We grew up sincerely attached. I was her model. She could follow me all day and tried hard to help me. Perhaps she had observed how life on the farm was more complicated for me as the eldest child and was doing her best to support me. My parents had no time for me when my little sister and later my little brother joined us, so I had to manage on my own. Not only that, but I was also often responsible for them.

Thinking about them makes me wonder how my family is doing. I hope from the bottom of my heart that everything is okay in their lives. It has been almost a year since I last saw them, and I cannot tell when the opportunity will present itself again. The last time I went, my little sister had taken over my previous role. Our modest farm specialized in vegetables. Shaping and nourishing the earth was something my little sister liked from the bottom of her heart. No matter the difference in our ages, she quickly became as efficient and competent as I was. Although she had a more reserved personality than I or our little brother, she used her actions to speak for herself. What an amazing woman. I am so proud of her. Nowadays, she must work even harder and prepare herself for the future when she will take over the farm in her name. It was supposed to be my heritage before I left them to change my destiny. For my little sister or for me, I never regretted it. She was more suited for this role than I would have been. The only regret I have is living far away from them. I feel their absence every day of my life.

Later, as I left my parents’ farm, I met an outstanding woodcarver, an old lady who quickly became my mentor. She wished for me to replace her soon-to-retire personal guard. I knew nothing of fighting, so she allowed me to learn how to defend myself by training with her guard. Once I was good enough to take his place and give him the quiet his age required, I stayed with my mentor for another year. She was the most famous woodcarver in the city I lived in back then. She received various commissions from the richest people in the entire Empire and had so many that she could choose the ones she liked the most. Being at her side gave me lots of time to observe her precision and the techniques she used to shape the wood at her will. She was even capable of applying thin layers of gold to make her leaves and flower patterns stand out. It was a beautiful sight. And, regarding our relationship, I could tell she enjoyed having me near her. She liked my impetuous temperament, and we could laugh about many things. I remember her telling me that I was almost like the daughter she never had. Her words had touched me. Indeed, her life choices had made her renounce family. She had preferred to embrace the passion of wood to its fullest. I admired her for that.

Finally, while working for her, I met a kindhearted man. We enjoyed many evenings together. One day, he encouraged me to come to his Kingdom and purchase animals with him so we could live a peaceful life. If I must be honest, I was the one to push him toward this decision, but he did not complain about it. Meeting him in my life made my long-awaited dream of acquiring beasts a reality. After all, that was the reason I ran away from my parents’ farm. Yet, something else happened with this man, something I could not imagine. Thanks to him, I experienced the feeling of being loved completely. Each day, he gave me gratitude and recognition. On the other hand, he was very charming with his magnificent honey-brown skin. His hair was long and thick. A simple beauty emanated from him, reflecting his humble and calm personality. Love was something we deeply cherished. Only my call from the spirit of the moon could have made me leave this life with him. Even if in the end I decided to follow Yulin’s call, a part of me will always keep him in my heart.

When I look at my past, I conclude that I have never been rejected or felt the need to reject someone in my life. The feelings of deception and hurt I am experiencing toward Tariro are very new to me. I do not know what I should do with them. For now, I must stay away from her. My mind is crying for protection and space. As weird as it seems, I know I still love her. Otherwise, it would not hurt so much. Yet at the same time, I cannot see myself speaking or spending time with her for the moment. All that matters is to redirect my focus to Yulin. After all, they are the reason I am here. Besides, I also have the trials in several months. If I want to join the Blades, I have no time to lose.

Not only that, but I recently witnessed small changes during my fighting sessions. I think that the veteran members are progressively dropping the act of being beginners. I am curious to see how good they really are. Let us hope that I will face some challenges in the months to come.

A slightly different routine began for me. My meals were shared with Gudo or simply on my own. Tariro and I completely avoided one another. There was not much anger, just a need for space and time, a need to think about us. As for my work afternoons, I spent many in the fields when I could. And, when there were too many people tending the fields, I pushed myself forward and went to the healing place. It was harder to be there without Tariro. She had always helped and motivated me to come here. Yet, I was determined to learn and try my luck at the Balm trials. I knew it did not interest me much, but I had to test it. A part of me saw this trial as a challenge, and I liked challenges. Nonetheless, liking it did not make it any easier. Once, I encountered a similar situation to the one I had met with Tariro. A man had exposed his back too long to the sun, and I had to apply the concoction with care and watchful eyes. I succeeded, but it took much longer with me alone. I was still far from having a delicate and precise touch like Tariro. Later, during another day at the healing place, I had to help stitch a woman who had fallen from a chair while cleaning the hall. Her left forearm was scraped because she had rubbed it against one of the mirrors. I was in pain for her. Those mirrors are as nice and well-made as they are sharp. The true healing member who showed me this and asked me for my help was Anaya. I called her the sage. She was harsh. However, I could tell she wished the best for me. She even made me finish the stitch while accompanying my movement. It surely cost me a lot of stress, and I could barely fight in the training room that evening, but I learned a lot.

Other than that, I enjoyed my days, even without Tariro. A part of me missed her. Yet, every time I would see Shungu and her training and fight together, it comforted me in my decision. I was thankful to Gudo. He always found a way to cheer me up when I spoke about this situation. He told me many jokes, and I thanked him for that. One day, being really inspired, he said, “Hey, at least you made Shungu useful. Before his training sessions with Tariro, no one had figured out what he was good for.”

We chuckled for a long time after this one. He even decided to come to fighting sessions once every two weeks. I could tell this was not his thing. He was terrible with a spear or any other weapon. But, he gave his best nonetheless and persevered to show me I could be a good teacher. This man was truly a gem. I was lucky to have him around.

In the end, I was on my own during most of my training sessions. But there were many advantages to that. My mindset was different, and I became more and more aware of the people around me. Except for Tariro and me, there were no women in the fighting room. Not caring, I tried to duel a different member every evening. This way, I could train my efficiency with various opponents, who also used their own weapons. In the first weeks, I would always win, and it was not very challenging. However, it did not last for long. From the moment I had fought a duel with every regular member who came to the training room, I started to fight with them for a second time. And this is when everything changed. Each man I had once fought against was now a completely different opponent. It was baffling. I had to give it my all and be fully focused not to lose any ground. The last time I had to fight someone so hard was with my teacher back in Linghua. Where had they learned to be so strong, and why had they waited to show off their real skills? I still managed to win one fight out of two. The other times, they concluded with a draw as neither my opponent nor I had been put to the ground before the time limit.

Obviously, this did not last forever. I finally encountered a man who won a fight against me. His name was Mundra, a slender fighter with imposing confidence and self-awareness. He had decided to pick a club and shield to compete against me. I was not used to shields, but until then, I had always managed to find my way in despite the limited openings. When I was the bodyguard of my old woodcarver mentor, I was fighting with a guandao, a long spear that required both hands to be maneuvered properly. Since my arrival in The Community, I had no choice but to settle for the closest weapons to my guandao, their slimmer spears made of wood. One hand was enough to use them as they were very light. But, due to my former weapon, I gripped the spear with two hands most of the time. My body reflexes were much better this way.

Looking back at Mundra, I observed his weapons once again. The shields from The Community were tall, oval, and made of stiff cowhide stretched on a wooden spine. Rising to the chest, they were broad enough to cover most of the body when held upright. His main weapon, on the other hand, was one that other members did not use often. The heavy wooden club was carved from a single piece of hardwood. The head swelled into a rounded knot. It was clearly built to crush and break with a single blow.

Approaching me slowly, he reintroduced himself,

“I remember our last fight. It was quite the discovery to meet a fresh root with such combat skills. I wish you good luck in our duel,” he smiled gently.

I could not tell if he was arrogant or knowingly sure of himself. It can seem similar, but it could not be more different. In one situation, you speak without thinking; in the other, you perfectly know why you speak. I nodded to his comment, too focused on the fight to come. Then, one second after my nod, he rushed toward me. The fight had started.

I pushed my spear before me to make him change his trajectory. He deviated from the course of my weapon with his shield and progressed forward. I reacted quickly and dodged his club blow aimed at my leg. He was trying to hurt me in a way that would impede my next moves. As I removed my leg, I turned my hands so the bottom of my spear would hit his face. I succeeded, and he retracted for a second, measuring the situation again. However, I had no intention to let him think. Only quick actions were necessary in a fight. I rushed at him, pretending to prepare a kick on his shield so I could make him fall on his back. My true intention was to touch his right hand, where he held the club. Without his main weapon, he would lose in no time.

Everything went accordingly as he began to dodge my false leg. I smiled and hit his hand as anticipated. While his club fell to the ground, I opened myself for an instant, too proud of the success of my plan. I had no idea he would be so foolish. In an instant, he lowered his body and jumped for me. His movements were fast, too fast. There was no way he was improvising. Could he have seen through my plan and decided to let his club fall so he could break my defense? No, it made no sense.

I tried to close my arms before me so I would remain steady even with his next strike. Sadly, it was not enough. Mundra used the upper tip of his shield to uncross my arms and turned it so he could use the bottom tip to hit me hard in the stomach. He did not miss. It was clever and well executed. I crouched down to the floor and raised my hand. I had lost. What a foolishly good strategist.

At the end of our fight, I congratulated him. I know I can be arrogant, but one has to admit defeat when it presents itself so clearly. Yet, our exchange took a turn I was not expecting as he helped me stand up,

“You’ve really got impressive moves, but I don’t know if this will suffice to become a Blade.”

Puzzled, I watched him closely. One could think that he was joking, but there was something more behind his words, something I had to find out.

“Oh, and what would I miss in your opinion?”

His smile broadened, “Many things.”

His knowing face was getting on my nerves. I tried to provoke him a little bit, “You must be the first Blade I’m fighting against, then. That’s the only explanation for why I won against all the others.”

There was no reaction as he picked up his club that had fallen to the ground. Wedging it on his right shoulder, he replied unabashedly, “You should skip some fighting sessions and try the sports game in the gardens. It should help you learn to sharpen your judgment.”

“Seriously? That’s what I’m lacking? A sports game?”

This was definitely not the answer I was expecting. Not reacting any further to my questions, Mundra walked away, already leaving the training room. Abruptly, he stopped in his course and turned around to share one last thing with a more serious voice than before,

“If I see you again, I’m sure we could help each other. I am sincerely interested to learn how you move your body so swiftly. At the same time, I could show you the various ways to make a shield truly effective in a fight. Trust me, with such a light spear, it would be a waste not to use a second weapon that is both protective and powerful.”

Measuring his proposition. I was at a loss for words as he left the room. I remained silent. I did not know what to make of our conversation. Yet, my instinct told me there were opportunities to learn in this situation. I knew I did not wish to train with a shield, at least not for now. I still needed time to ponder the fight I just lost against him. I was doubtful. Could a shield have really helped me in this fight? I dueled other members with a shield in those last days, but always found my way around. Did I not lose this time because I made a bad judgment and rushed in the wrong direction? I could not tell for certain.

However, regarding the sports game in the gardens, I had a different point of view. Perhaps I could give it a try. Gudo had told me about it many times. It was the activity he preferred to do in The Community when he was not too sleepy. His description of the game had made it clear how important judgment was if someone wished to win. It could not be a bad idea to play with a friend while getting stronger. After that, I went to bed but decided to ask Gudo for more information next time I met him.

The following day, right after meditation, I saw Gudo and joined him for the meal. I do not wait long before recounting my fight with Mundra. Too caught up in my story, I forgot to eat while the food was still hot, and now I have to endure it cold. We had both cooked the same dish, a clay pot of tender beans simmered into a thick stew, flavored with pumpkin and wild herbs. I lift a spoon and take a hesitant bite. The flavors are still there, but muted. I should have been less impatient to describe my fight. Gudo watches me carefully. I think he is waiting for my story to end. I nod, giving him the space to speak and share his opinion.

“Mundra, I’m not sure I ever met this man. He seems to be a hell of a fighter though… I’m half convinced he could wrestle a lion and make it apologize afterward.”

“A lion? Then I should at least be able to defeat a cheetah, right?” I retort, my eyes laughing at his joke while my mouth struggles to keep my cold mouthful inside.

“Oh yes, I never doubted that. Why do you think we are friends? Better to have the most frightening woman in the place on your side.”

“Me?” I chuckle, tossing back a sarcastic jab of my own. “Does that make you the most clever one?”

Gudo coughs from laughing. I think he was not prepared for this one. I avoid looking at him too long; I already have trouble keeping my food in my mouth.

Then he changes the subject, reminding himself of my story.

“Xia, why don’t you come play in the gardens after our meal? You want to give it a try, and I’m in a good mood to teach you.”

Considering his question, I see no need to overthink. I am in a good mood too. Why not go ahead with a game?

“Okay, I follow you.” I toss out before teasing him a little, “Guide me, Master Gudo.”

Cleaning our plates and leaving the refectory, we quickly arrive at the right section of the gardens where the sports game takes place. The area is a large empty space of sand and clay. Several sticks of wood are scattered around to define the area of the game. I can tell those marks mean something. Gudo watches the area before us as he starts to explain the rules.

“The game is called Mahag Chase. To play, you need two teams of six members, a small leather ball, and a short wooden bat. Each player takes on three roles during the game. First, the launcher throws the ball as fast as possible toward their teammate. Then the receiver must strike it with full strength, aiming toward a strategic spot. Once the ball is sent far enough, the receiver must sprint a full circle from the home base and back to safety. While the ball is still in play and no one from the opposing team has gripped it, you cannot be eliminated. But once someone catches the ball, one of their teammates can chase you while you’re completing your circle. If they tag you, you are out.

There is one constraint: only one defender can chase you at a time, so their team must be strategic. Every defender begins from a different Mahag stick, so no one can stand clustered in the same place waiting for the receiver. The sticks also mark the limit you cannot cross while running. You don’t need to touch them. Only stay behind.

Finally, the defenders must recover the ball and send one chaser after the runner once they have it. After each completed run—or after the current receiver is eliminated—the teams switch roles so everyone has a chance to run and defend. The game continues until one team has no players left. Victory depends on clever running, precise timing, and teamwork.”

“That’s a lot of information. I can only hope it will be easier once I’m actually playing.” I already regret coming here. The game looks fun, but there are so many things I don’t understand. I feel rather stupid.

Gudo gestures toward the circle of Mahag sticks. “It’s alright, Xia. You are here to learn. So, let’s see how you handle your first match.”

I nod as he places a bat in my hands. I guess I’m starting directly as the receiver. I still don’t fully grasp what the defenders can or cannot do, but at least I know my role: hit the ball and run around the circle of sticks as if my life depends on it. I glance at Gudo and mutter unconvincingly, “I’ll do my best.”

I tighten my grip on the bat and wait for the teammate I don’t even know to launch the ball. Suddenly, it’s before my eyes. I don’t think—I just swing with all my strength. The ball shoots forward, barely clearing the stick. My heart races. I sprint, feeling the sand shift beneath my feet. The circle, Xia. Run the circle. My breath comes in harsh bursts, but I push through, refusing to slow.

A man lunges toward me, and I twist sharply, barely avoiding a grab. My foot slips in the sand, and I stumble for a moment. Panic surges, but I regain balance and push forward, reaching home base. My body passes the final Mahag stick. I did it. Relief floods me. I guess my throw was not that bad, seeing how late they began to chase me.

I position myself for the next turn, picking out the few rules I remember about the defenders. Lost in thought, the receiver started to run before I knew it. Not being discouraged, I try to anticipate the opponent’s path. I spread my legs, ready to intercept, arms out. I wait for the ball to be caught by the teammate with the closest Mahag stick from where it will land. Sadly, by the time we can run to tag the opposing member, he is already at the end of the circle. He hit the ball perfectly at the beginning of the turn. It was far too long for our team to catch it. This gave him enough time to complete his run securely.

I return to the side, chest heaving, as the next receiver from our team goes. In the blink of an eye, he is eliminated. Someone from the opposing team manages to grab his ball right out of the air. He has no chance. Another defense turn passes, and I am still useless, struggling to remember the rules.

Then it is Gudo’s turn. He swings the bat, and the ball leaps from his hands with a force I can almost feel in my chest. He darts past the defenders, weaving smoothly between the Mahag sticks. I watch, wide-eyed, cheering silently. Every step seems calculated, effortless, and I feel a surge of pride watching my teammate dominate.

When it is my turn again to hit the ball, I focus my gaze on Gudo’s hand and wait for his toss. This turn, he is the launcher. The ball arrives quickly toward me. I manage to hit it, but not by far. My first turn had definitely been lucky. As I start to run, I can see in the corner of my eyes that the ball did not go far enough for me to be safe. I swing hard nonetheless, forcing my body to follow through.

I push off, legs pumping sand beneath me. My arms twist to maintain balance as I overtake the second Mahag stick. I hear the shuffle of feet behind me, the thud of a defender closing in. That means they have already caught my throw. My heart hammers in my chest. I dart left, then right, trying to anticipate his movements. My legs feel heavier than usual, my breath short, but I refuse to slow.

The third Mahag stick is so close. I can see it, the sand flattened from countless runs. I stretch for it, lunging forward, but, at the last second, the defender’s hand shoots out and taps my shoulder. A jolt of frustration shoots through me. It does not last, as I remember, I am only halfway around the circle. Still, I realize how far I have to go to match the reflexes and awareness of the others.

I stand there for a moment, catching my breath, eyes following the defenders as my teammates shift positions, ready for the next receiver from the opposing team. The game moves around me, relentless, and I feel both exhausted and exhilarated. I want to try again immediately, to prove I can do better, but for now, I let the defeat settle, letting its sensations teach me.

From the side, I watch Gudo dominate as a defender, his timing impeccable. He blocks receivers effortlessly, moving like a shadow, eyes sharp and alert. I study him closely. The ease of his movements makes me wonder something. Since when is he so swift with his body? He was far from being like this during the few times we trained together with weapons. How is that possible? Truly, he can be quite mysterious.

I remind myself that the game continues and watch Gudo being tagged by a member of the other team. He is almost at the end of the circle, but the other man is faster and touches him. Accepting his defeat, he joins me on the side.

Soon, the end of the match begins. Only one member of each team remains. When it happens, the receiver must shoot the ball with their own hands. Doing so prevents them from throwing the ball too far away. Otherwise, it would be impossible for a solo defender to catch the ball and tag the runner in the same turn.

I watch closely as the final round starts. The receiver crouches slightly, gripping the ball, eyes locked on the defender. With a sharp motion, the ball is launched straight into the air, rising just enough to keep it within reach. The defender reacts instantly, leaping forward with precise timing. Fingers brush the ball midair, snatching it cleanly before it hits the sand.

The receiver, caught off guard, darts around the circle, legs pumping as the defender angles toward them. Every step is calculated, trying to fake one direction before switching, while attempting to keep the defender off balance. The defender pivots just as sharply, anticipating every twist. My heart hammers as the receiver stretches toward home base, barely a few paces away. The defender lunges, arm outstretched, and taps the runner’s shoulder just in time. The receiver stumbles, sand flying, and slows to a halt. Both men pant heavily, glaring at each other with a mix of exhaustion and disbelief.

“Damn, seriously! You do not play the same since you trained with that guy you met in the Blades while I was on my expedition with the Hands! What is that?” the losing receiver shouts.

The defender rolls his eyes, smirking. “Oh, come on. You make no sense. I am just doing what works while trying not to repeat the same moves.”

“You think that is fair? Since you started training with him, you move like a shadow, not like a man!” The first man stamps the sand, frustration written all over his face. “We have always practiced together and had a similar level, and now you are suddenly much better than me? How is that fair?”

The defender frowns, clenching his fists. “Don’t be ridiculous. I did what I needed to do to improve. You think I can stay the same and still compete? It is not about you, it is about the game.”

“You always make it about the game!” He kicks at the sand in frustration.

I blink, wide-eyed, trying to process what I am hearing. The argument between them seems utter nonsense. Two grown men, shouting over a ball game as if it were a battle for the kingdom itself. I glance at Gudo, expecting him to laugh. He does, but in his usual teasing, calm way.

“Funny you say that,” he chuckles. “It is like your quarrel with Tariro, but with more sand. You were the receiver, and she was the defender. At least that’s what I would say from what you told me.”

The words strike me like a wave. My chest tightens. Am I really like that? Have I behaved as childishly with Tariro as the receiver is behaving right now? If Gudo is joking, it still forces me to pause. Does this mean I have been in the wrong? Could Tariro really have been innocent all along? No, that cannot be…

I shake my head quickly, trying to dismiss the thoughts gnawing at me.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I mutter under my breath, more to myself than to him, trying to regain my composure.

However, the strange feeling inside lingers and stays attached to my heart. I continue to question myself. What if Gudo had a point? Perhaps I am overthinking everything, perhaps I am not. I cannot shake the echo of doubt that I am the sole and unique source of the distance between Tariro and me.