OMG I did something very bad last chapter! o.o
Ivan: -.-+ Made it suck?
Well…yeah…that too…but worse than that! I forgot to reply to my awesome reviewers!
Elliott: Reviewer.
Whatever. Reviewers are half the reason I'm writing this story! I need to acknowledge them!
Elliott: What's the other half?
…Getting out of housework by letting mom think I'm working on my novel and original-idea-stories. Like the one about you! …Or the plan, for NaNo… heheh...
Elliott: -slaps forehead-
Review Responses:
Zashlight: Thank you! Sorry I forgot to reply! It was 2 am(here. That's 9 pm EST. I'm on GMT.) and I wasn't thinking clearly. (Elliott faints in background. Wonder why.) I was planning on more Ivan…but he'll have his moment in the parts during the actual game events, I suppose. So…
MORE HAMA! There aren't really many fics about her, are there? It is fun to explore her character and motives. And she's more fun to write than Ivan at this point, too! o Possibly because she's older and I can give her an attitude. Hard to do with a four-year-old. And it is challenging to get her to the point where she is in the games, show how she got to be in that position and everything she's done and learned. I like challenges.
Both Siblings: (in monotone) Yay.
BE ENTHUSIASTIC!!
Both Siblings: YAYYIPPEEHOWWONDERFUL!!
Better.
Ivan: Can we get on with this? Now that the A/N are practically longer then the chapter?
Yes. Back to the Wonderful Adventures of a Displaced Adolescent Jupiter Adept™
Ivan/Hama/Elliott: ¬.¬;
Hama yawned. The day had been long. Tiring also. She did not mind, though. This school was a good one. She learned a lot from Feh. He was a good teacher. He…
Hama caught her own train of thought. Jupiter! She was beginning to think like those people! Did she ever speak in that odd way without noticing it? …Probably. She got up off the padded mattress the Xianese called a bed. Wincing slightly at the (perpetual) ache in her muscles, she made herself a cup of tea. Tea was this town's greatest asset, she sometimes thought.
A knock sounded at her door. Hama looked at it, curious, but still wary. The other week, a travelling mercenary had thought she'd appreciate some male company. And, unfortunately, the ones who offered such company were also the ones she didn't want near her. …Because they offered such company. Disgusting, pretentious sons of rats and jackals, the lot of them. She focused her mind and sought out the knocker's name.
She relaxed. Feh. She got up and opened the door. "Feh!" she greeted him, feigning surprise. "Come in! I mean, feel free any time, it's your father's house…" Feh chuckled and shook his head.
"You need not jump at every thing, Hama. You seem always nervous." His words were kind, as were his eyes. Feh was the Master Goran's best, most attentive pupil. Some of the other students, like Hama, learned from him; officially in the school, he was one of the teachers. He still took lessons from Goran, though. He enjoyed pushing himself, Hama thought. A native of Xian, he had a lean, almost stringy body (surprisingly strong), deep-set, dark eyes and the distinctive Xianese accent. He was older than Hama, with a daughter about four years old; the same age as Ivan. He seemed to enjoy Hama's company, though. "You should meditate with me. It is very relaxing." Hama shook her head.
"I prefer to do it in the mornings, Feh. It gets me ready for the day," she said. He nodded, sitting down on the floor.
"You use it to focus. I meditate to relax. Teaching and learning is hard work, hard on the body. Hard on the mind." Hama nodded. "How do you relax?"
She picked up a scroll from a shelf over her 'bed' and showed it to him. "To prepare for the day, I empty my mind of anything but my lessons. To relax, I fill it with other things once more." Feh looked the scroll over. On it was an ancient Xianese poem, an epic dating back to (Hama believed) the Golden Age. She was eager to know if it mentioned her home, Atteka, and Jupiter Lighthouse. If it mentioned the Anemos. She was extremely curious about the Anemos, wanted to know about the wonders they performed. Feh took it from her and he began to scan the contents.
"Ah, from long, long ago. When Xian was protected by the gods, still."
"What gods?" Hama asked, curious.
"The gods of Earth and Water. They protected us and lived in each man and woman." He looked through it. "This is a strange scroll to pick, Hama. The one with the Ki warrior, the warrior of the sky."
"Of the sky?" Her interest was growing by the second. Was this warrior…
Feh nodded, looking through it, beyond the part she'd read to. "Yes…but much is missing. I do not remember the story. You will have to read it yourself, I am afraid," he said with a knowing smile. Hama took it back and only just managed to restrain herself from reading it at the expense of hospitality.
"So…" she scrambled for another topic, one that would prove engaging enough to distract her from the wonderful scroll, "what is a 'warrior of Ki?'"
"One who uses Ki to fight." Infuriating bastard.
"What is Ki, then?" Feh smirked. He'd known that was her real question the first time, she knew it.
"Ki is spiritual energy." Hama frowned.
"I thought that was Chi."
"No. Chi is energy of the body, focused in the hand. Ki is energy of the mind, released onto an object." He paused. "I believe. No-one in Xian has Ki. Master Nyumpa of Fuchin Temple has Ki. He is very wise, I hear."
"Where is Fuchin Temple?"
"Across Mogall Prairie. Beside the waterfall. Will you go there?"
"I believe I might." Feh thought for a moment.
"Do you wish to learn Ki?"
"No. I wish to learn about Ki." He smiled again.
"You only wish to learn, I think." Hama nodded. All in all, he was right. But she had never met another Adept since she'd lost her mother. She was eager to meet another, see what others thought of Psynergy. Few, even in Contigo, had known what it was.
Feh shook his head. "The energy of youth amazes me. When will you go?'
"Next week, I think," Hama replied, thinking. That was when the merchants arrived. She didn't know if Hammet remembered her, and she didn't want to find out.
Feh nodded and looked outside. "It is late. I will go home. …It is strange."
"What is?"
"Whenever the merchants come, you are not there to see him." Feh smiled. "As I said. It is strange. Good night, Hama."
"Good night, Feh. I'll see you at the school." …He was very observant. Either that or she wasn't the only mind-reader in Xian.
Hama reached Fuchin Temple three days after she'd left Xian, which had been the morning she'd seen Hammet coming. Feh had commented on it again, wondering if he wasn't too old for her. Feh had only narrowly, by virtue of their friendship, avoided going through the day with his arm in a sling.
There was, indeed, a waterfall. Hama wondered if the monks meditated underneath it. It would be excellent training; Master Goran often regretted that Xian did not have any decent kind of waterfall.
The instant she entered, it became obvious that Fuchin Temple was overcrowded. Orange-robed monks sat, meditating, elbow to elbow. The temple grounds were as noisy as a marketplace. This was where people came to gain wisdom and peace? Hama felt sorry for these monks. Where else could they go?
She asked one who wasn't trying to meditate where Nyumpa was, and he told her, pointing her up a hill to the largest building in the temple grounds. She climbed the hill and entered.
"Hello, Hama," said an old man, thin and bald with a long white beard. "I have been waiting." Hama stared at him. He glowed briefly. "Ah…it is about Ki that you come. Or, as you think, Psynergy? You want to know if they are one?" Hama nodded. Jupiter. Definitely an Adept, and definitely Jupiter. The old man–Nyumpa–nodded.
"It matters not what you call something, Hama. It matters only what it is. Ki, Psynergy, Spiritual Power, all are names. The name is irrelevant to the nature of the object."
"But necessary for identification, necessary for speech and communication." Nyumpa smiled.
"Well said. You are smart, for your years. Perhaps wise, also." The old man looked her directly in the eye. "Your brother will be much like you. He will favor you more than he will your parents."
Hama's mouth fell open. She felt quite unable to close it. "My…"
"Yes. Ivan. The boy in Kalay. …He will come here, one day, and I will tell him and his friends much of what I am telling you. Of wisdom, and of cunning." Hama decided to ignore the improbability of his knowledge.
"Why are you telling me this?" she asked him. "Why do you want to teach me of…of wisdom? And cunning?"
"You are curious. A fine quality, one I hope you will keep close to you as you grow older. As to my reasons… They should be obvious." Hama shook her head. "I know the fate of you and your brother, Hama. To help you both is to play my part, however small, in the salvation of world. I would be very upset if it were destroyed, Hama. Where would I live?" He smiled. So did Hama.
"…You know much, Master Nyumpa."
"A benefit of living to be my age. Tell me, Hama. If you wished someone to do something for you, how would you go about getting them to do it?" The old monk was suddenly very serious.
"Ask, I suppose. Politely, but directly."
"Ah, but…"
The rest of the afternoon passed like this. Nyumpa would ask her how she would do something, get something, accomplish some goal. Hama would answer as best as she could, and the old man would guide her along until she reached the answer he could have given her. Hama realised, half-way through, that that, too, was one of the lessons she was expected to take away. From there on in, she understood his true intent, and was a better pupil.
She felt that Nyumpa was pleased with her. She did not, however, try to read his thoughts. She did not want to ruin that good impression. Nyumpa seemed to sense this, and grew more jovial and friendly as the day wore on, although it wouldn't have been right to say he relaxed. Eventually, it was time for her to return to bed.
Nyumpa invited her to spend a few days at the temple, to relax. She accepted, although she wondered how relaxing the temple could possibly be. As she turned to leave the building, she stopped and asked a question that had been bothering her.
"Master…you said that, by helping my brother and me, you were playing your part in Weyard's salvation."
"Yes."
"…Don't you…don't you wish you could do more? Contribute more to it?"
Nyumpa nodded, as if he had been expecting the question. "You are young, eager to go out and do. Sometimes, the best thing you can do is wait. You will realise that in time."
"But–"
"Hama. Of course I wish to give more. But I have little more to give. This I have accepted. You should do the same."
"But, I can't just…just watch while gods-know-what happens to my brother–"
"You will have to." He sighed. "Hama, many, many people have a part to play in the salvation of the world. Whether the unremarkable, like the innkeeper who gives the young warriors a room, or the larger, such as the ruler who will provide them with a ship, or the monk who offers them advice for the next part of their journey. The greatest role, and the most dangerous, the most unpleasant at times, will fall to those young warriors. When they are done, they will be grateful to those who aided them. They will receive little in return for their efforts, except for another task to expend those efforts on. Is that the role you desire?"
"It would be worth it, if I could…" Her voice trailed off, but Nyumpa seemed to understand. His voice softened.
"I see. You do not want to worry about him, do not want to spend the coming years wondering. Yet…that is the price you pay.
"You will be safe, as he will not; he will be able to defend himself, as you will not." Nyumpa was silent for a moment. "The fate of the world and everything in it will rest on their shoulders. We must give what help we can." He met and held Hama's eyes. She sighed, bid him goodnight, and went off to the guest quarters. They were not half as crowded as the rest of the temple, and Hama found herself with time and space to think… and a lot to think about.
Unable to defend herself…The greatest role…will fall to them…
Hama was very tired…
What help…we can…Courage…to let him…
She fell asleep on her bed like that, still dressed, mind still full of questions and worries.
Hama returned to Xian after a week of the temple. It was nice to get back and have air to breathe again. Feh visited the second night she was back to ask what she'd found.
"Master Nyumpa is… very knowledgeable," she'd told him, not eager to tell him everything. Feh nodded, and asked a question, one which, from the look on his face, had been bothering him for a while.
"Hama, when I told you of Ki, you mistook it for Chi, or mistook Chi for it. Both, perhaps."
"Yes. I understand the difference now."
"…A year ago, I offered to teach you Chi. I showed you it. You said you already had it. You showed me it. I had thought there was something odd about it. I said nothing because I did not know–"
"Oh!" Hama remembered. "Feh, I'm sorry. I misunderstood you. I thought Chi was your name for Psy…Ki, and that you had a type I did not. I was mistaken. I do not have Chi. I have Ki."
Feh nodded. "This I thought. We misunderstood each other. …Since it turns out you do not have Chi, after all, I will ask again. Would you like to learn it?"
Hama was in at the word 'learn.' Feh knew this. He found it quite amusing.
Hama knew this and did not find it at all amusing. The prospect of learning something, however, drowned out everything else.
Hama worked for weeks and then for months at learning Chi. Feh was puzzled as to how it was taking her so long. Eventually they decided that it was (probably) because she was too used to focusing her mind and not used enough to focusing her body.
They kept working. Two and a half months after they began, Hama managed to use Chi. She memorised the feeling, the sensation of the technique, and from there on in, it was easier., and much quicker. It had taken Feh only a fortnight to learn to use chi, and a further three years to master it. It took Hama half that time. Eventually, Feh decided he couldn't teach her Chi anymore, that she was as good as him.
At that point, she was nearly twenty. She continued to learn the fighting arts from Feh, but she began to help him teach his students as well. She worked, in between, at perfecting her Chi, with Feh as a rival instead of a teacher, and she worked in solitude at honing her Psynergy. She did not spend much time on calling wind or lightning; she worked at her powers of perception, at Reveal, at prophecy. She mastered those and went on to practise more. She could close her eyes and be, that instant, in Imil, seeing the snows cover the land in high summer, or in Lalivero, seeing the waves break against the ancient ruins, or…
She spent a lot of time and Psynergy watching Kalay.
Feh didn't stick his nose into her 'meditation' until autumn that year. Hama noticed the instant he stuck his head in the door. She asked what he wanted.
"Party," he said. Feh at his most infuriating.
Hama blinked. She hadn't even known the word 'party' was in Feh's vocabulary. "A party for what?" she asked.
"For you. You are of age."
"For the last four years, yes… Do you mean that you come of age at twenty here?" Feh nodded.
"You have lived here three-and-a-half years now. Yet you do not know that." Hama shook her head.
"It never seemed important," she told him, following him outside. He led her to the school as they chatted.
The party was entertaining enough, although it was a surprise to Hama to see half the population of Xian there. They were all enthusiastic in wishing her luck, happiness, prosperity, long life and all those such things people wished each other on birthdays. A few of her closer friends presented her with…well…presents. Goran's was a set of the robes worn by teachers at the school and a promise to teach her with Feh. Feh's was a scroll of ancient Xianese legends; he refused to give it to her until after everyone had left so she wouldn't start reading it there and then and forget there was a party on. (She did not find that funny.) Several others gave her a necklace, a lucky dragon figurine, a painting they'd done. All in all, it was very touching.
She did not remember drinking. From the size of her headache the next morning, she supposed she had. There was no–bloody–way she was going to practise her Psynergy or Chi that day. No–bloody–way she was even getting up. Not in a million–
Someone knocked on the door. Hama ignored it.
Someone knocked on the door. Hama ignored it.
Someone knocked on the door. Hama stuffed her head under her pillow.
Someone knocked on the door. Hama ignored it.
Someone knocked on the door. Hama cursed them.
Someone knocked on the door.
Cursing them again, whoever they were, Hama got up and answered the door.
Monks. Great. She'd just cursed monks. If that didn't earn her eternal damnation, she wasn't sure what would. …She wasn't quite sure of anything just then, actually.
"Good morning," she said, hoping they wouldn't be able to tell she was lying-in her humble opinion, it was a very bad morning-and hung over.
They stared at her.
She stared back.
They stared at her some more. Hama got sick of the staring.
"Why…To what do I owe the …pleasure, of this meeting?" It wasn't really much of a pleasure, but maybe extra politeness would get her back into the gods' good books.
"We have just opened a temple. It is called Lama Temple. It is to the west of Xian," one told her.
"Fuchin Temple is too crowded. We needed another temple."
"Now we need a master for the Temple."
Hama eventually saw what they were getting at. They'd even half-named it after her. Either that or they worshipped llamas. She doubted that.
"And you want me to be that master." Best to be sure, that's it, cling to the possibility that this is a pleasure visit…
Nods. Both monks wore hopeful expressions on their faces. Shoot.
"…I'm a little young."
Blinks. Apparently, they didn't care.
"…I'm not really monk material. Aren't all monks men?"
"There is no rule which forbids women from joining."
"They simply don't."
"They do not like our uniforms." Wonder why, Hama thought. Most of the women she knew just loved walking around with bare chests.
"But the master of the temple can wear whatever they like."
They were certainly eager to please. Damnit, she was too tired to deal with this.
"Why me?"
"You are a master of Chi."
"You are very talented."
"Master Nyumpa recommended you."
Damn him. Oh, wait, no, uh…What a kind old man, she meant. Thinking of her. Unfortunately, he was either misguided or senile. Not in a derogatory sense though. In a charming, affectionate sort of way. (She hoped the gods were listening to all this nonsen-uh…truthful and sincere sentiment.) Now how did she get these people to go away?
"…I'm not a monk."
Like they cared. How about saying she was a cannibal and would kill them all in their sleep to feast on their blood. Would that work? …Probably not. Gods, it was like kicking puppies.
Nothing was said for a while. Hama began to feel like throwing up. She suppressed the feeling.
Eventually she just had to say it.
"Look, I know you want me to be the master of this temple. I'm flattered. But I don't think I'd be a very good master." It was true; at that moment, she didn't think she'd be a very good anything.
They stared at her for another second.
"That meant thank you for the kind offer, but no."
They bowed, offered their apologies and left.
Hama went back to sleep. Crazy monks, disturbing people's sleep. Gods forbid she should ever become a crazy, creepy, monk.
Heheh. I think that one's better than the last one. Longer, definitely.
Ivan: It sucked. It was too long.
You're only saying that 'cause you're not in it.
Elliott: It would be better if you were less crazy.
If I were less crazy, you wouldn't exist. XP
Elliott: o.O
Hama:…I'm surrounded…read and review…
Yeah, I need reviews! They're as essential to this story as Fig Rolls!
Ivan: Fig Newtons, to you American-people. Which she does not own, incidentally. …Here, Jacob's does.
Jacob's RUL3Z0R5! And so do Fig Rolls!That was a disclaimer, BTW. Ivan disclaimed Fig Rolls for me. Isn't he helpful?
Ivan: Heh.
…sometimes…
Ivan: TT
I'll have the next chapter of Guilt up in the next few days, by the way. I'm almost done it. …Yeah. I don't even believe myself. TT… It will be up, though. And then I'll work on the next chapter of this. So, Slán go foill, a chara! (Bye for now, friend. Irish.)
Word count: 3,333. Not counting A/N. I find that interesting for some reason.