Chapter Seventy-One
"Why would you want to learn that, Syaoran?"
His face emptied of emotion as he answered. "My clone is getting more powerful with each feather he finds. If I don't find a better way to defend myself against his attacks, physical and mental, I won't be able to fight him."
"And it's urgent now because . . . ?"
Because if I don't fight back now, I might not be able to fight back later. He blinked slowly, trying to form a reply that wouldn't require him to admit his hallucinations. "In Infinity, you said you'd teach me what I needed to survive. In Avantine, you asked me what I wanted to learn, and you taught me. I know I have no right to ask for this without an explanation, but I need to be able to protect my mind."
Seishirou studied his face, unsmiling. After several seconds, he nodded. "There are two types of mental shields: one to keep your thoughts hidden from those who might see them, and one to defend against psychic assaults such as possession, compulsion, and hypnosis. Both types are similar in execution, but have slightly different effects. Sit down."
Syaoran retreated to one of the chairs at the table, never taking his eyes off his teacher. Seishirou sat across from him, leaning forward with his elbows on the table as he explained.
"The first type is less physically exhausting than the second, but it only protects you from threats outside your mind. Since you're asking about this right now, I'm assuming you need a more powerful spell than that."
Syaoran considered his reply, not sure how much his teacher would discern of his problems if he answered truthfully. There's no sense in wasting time with a lower level spell if the Other is already in my head. "That's true."
Seishirou smirked at his careful agreement. "Right. So you'll need the second spell. That requires more base magic power, and greater focus, especially given that you'll be under attack when you use it. The first step is to expel the unwanted presence from your mind. Now, you can imagine this as a sort of mental explosion. Gather up whatever energy you can spare and concentrate it into one point inside your mind. That will be the epicenter of the explosion."
Syaoran nodded. Concentrating energy into one point was one of the most basic principles of magic. Without such concentration, the effect would be so stretched out as to make casting a spell impossible.
"From that point, you push outward in every direction, sweeping your body and the surrounding area for hostile presences. That ninja you were traveling with—"
Syaoran looked up sharply, shocked Seishirou would bring up Kurogane-san at all.
"—taught you how to sense the aura of living things with your eyes closed, yes?"
"Kurogane-san taught me a lot of things," he said, watching for his teacher's reaction to the name. With his sharpened sight, he noticed a tightening in the other man's shoulders.
"Of course," Seishirou said swiftly. "But for this exercise, sensing enemies is the most vital step."
"Right."
"So you push the wave of energy out, sensing for enemies and banishing them from your mind wherever you find them. This will temporarily expel them from your thoughts and leave you clearheaded enough for the second step." Seishirou paused. "Which is similar to the simple thought-shielding spell I mentioned earlier."
Syaoran nodded.
"How to explain . . . Hmm." Seishirou stood, staring at the sky. He sighed. "Think of a brick wall, wrapped around your thoughts."
Syaoran called the appropriate image to his mind, closing his eyes for a moment.
"Now add magic to the wall, to make it tangible."
He imagined a thin film of magic running over the brick, solidifying it in a way a plain structure couldn't.
"You've got it?"
"I think so."
There was a pause. Syaoran felt a ripple at the edge of his shield. The wall stiffened, turning almost solid. At another point in the shield, he felt a flutter of movement. Another mind? he wondered, the muscles in his back going rigid.
Seishirou chuckled softly. He opened his eyes to see the dark-haired man grinning. "You truly are a remarkable student, Little Wolf."
He bristled at the nickname. Last time Seishirou had called him that, he'd just finished beheading someone.
"Oh, there it goes. Spoke too soon, I guess." Seishirou smiled knowingly. "Your shield is only effective for however long you can focus."
Only that long? Syaoran thought, body stiffening with the realization. Does that mean I'll be vulnerable whenever I'm not thinking about it?
"That's what it means," Seishirou said. Startled by the suddenness of the answer, Syaoran brought his shield back up. It hummed with energy, more powerful than before.
"You can read minds?" he asked, instead of accusing Seishirou of invading his thoughts.
"With some effort. Magic is a wonderful tool, if you know how to control it."
Syaoran looked down at his feet. "I would appreciate it if you didn't do that again."
His teacher arched one black eyebrow. "As you wish. But you're never going to get any practice if you don't feel threatened."
"All the same, my thoughts are my own." Most of them. He bit his lip, wondering how much influence the Other had over him. I'm going to have to keep my mind guarded as often as I can. The more I let him in, the more likely he is to take control and make me do something drastic.
"Keep practicing that. The more you work on it, the easier it will be to maintain."
"Okay."
"Anything else you want to work on before we switch dimensions?"
Switch dimensions? Right now? He blinked. Well of course we should do that. The sooner we leave, the sooner I can get back to Sakura. "No," he said quickly. "That's all I wanted to know."
Seishirou smiled. "Great. I'll go get Fuuma, and then we'll be on our way."
Gradually, Sakura began to notice an improvement in her sword practice.
At first, the minuscule improvements went unnoticed. The pain that sprung up in her leg after hours of daily practice pushed out most other thoughts, and by the time she was done, she seldom had the energy to reflect on her training.
Her routine was rigid, just as Syaoran's had been. She woke up in the morning, sat down for a breakfast—usually something protein-filled, like eggs, that would get her through the day. After that, she headed out to wherever they were training. Kurogane would teach her for about an hour, then give her a task to develop some facet of her skills. If it was intense or physically threatening, he stayed to make sure she didn't hurt herself. If it wasn't, he told her to work on it until she'd mastered it, or until the sun went down.
Most of the time, she worked until nightfall.
When she was done, she returned to the apartment, ate a hearty dinner, then passed out wherever she came to rest. Either Fai or Kurogane brought her to her bed whenever she fell asleep elsewhere. Then she woke up at daybreak to repeat the cycle.
It was almost a month after she'd seen Syaoran in Cirrus that Sakura realized she didn't have to think about her stances anymore when she moved.
The revelation came almost out of nowhere. Kurogane had left her to her drills hours ago, and she'd been working on them ever since. The deep ache in her leg hadn't numbed, merely drifted to the back of her mind. The pain wasn't relevant to her training, and once she'd accepted that the pain would go on, she stopped dwelling on it. The shift in her attention prompted her to notice other things about her situation.
My feet are parallel, she thought, looking down at her toes with more fascination than ever before. It's the perfect front stance.
Her lips stretched into a smile, and she moved to the next part of the drill. Her legs moved automatically into a back stance as she pretended to strike her enemy's heart. Even before she looked down, she knew she was in the correct stance.
Syaoran would be so happy for me, she thought. As she realized what had just passed through her mind, she flinched. Both Syaorans were lost to her now, wandering through other dimensions while she practiced here. There was no reason to think about them right now.
But he would have been happy for me, she thought, wavering. Before he left, he said he wanted me to learn how to defend myself. This is what that is, isn't it? Her eyes flashed down to the sword she'd bought in Infinity. It was a cheap little thing, meant for tournaments, not long-term fighting, but it still reflected her face. A slight sunburn bridged her cheeks, and her hair hung down about half an inch further than it had in Clow, but it was her eyes that seemed the most changed. Where they had once been glazed over or gentle, they'd turned steely. They were the eyes of someone who had known pain—eyes now shared by all members of her group except Mokona. This journey has changed me, too. I thought having my memories restored would turn me back into the girl I was in Clow, but I've grown in so many other ways. I am not the sheltered princess I used to be.
She sheathed her sword. Dusk had begun to creep in while she'd been thinking, and she had a while to walk to get back to the apartment. She started walking, wincing at the little sparks of pain that shot up her leg whenever her foot hit the ground.
I've changed. But for better or worse?