Professor Song raised one finger in front of his face and closed his eyes to consider the question.
“Your path is your own,” he said. “It is not like your clan, or even your natural affinities for reading, writing, or arithmetic. One of the purposes of this class is to explore your individual path, and in that way find the proper trail for your feet to follow. When you are on the correct course, you will know it. Your core and the world will be in tune, and you will be at peace.”
While most of the students in the dojo seemed confused by Professor Song’s words, I understood what he meant. I’d learned the Borrowed Core technique of the Pauper’s Dagger path the year before, and that had given me the ability to forge links between my core and the core of smaller creatures. I’d mostly focused on rats, because there were so many of them in the School and it wouldn’t attract much attention if they acted a bit strangely. At first, I’d only been able to bond my core to a handful of rats. As I pushed my abilities to their limits, I’d expanded the number of rats I could control again and again.
And then, during my battle with the harbinger of the Locust Court, I’d pushed the Borrowed Core beyond even that limit, to unlock the Thief of Souls technique of my path. That had allowed me to rip the core out of the spirit we’d faced and forge the Eclipse core inside me.
That had granted me abilities I didn’t fully understand yet. My serpents could rip the aspects and jinsei out of anything they touched. It was an incredibly powerful ability, and it was the secret to my success in the Five Dragons Challenge. No foe could stand against me if the slightest touch from my serpents was enough to sap their strength or rob their techniques of the jinsei they needed to function.
That power had also caused the disaster in Singapore...
Before I could fall down that rabbit hole of angst, Professor Song’s lecture abruptly changed direction and demanded my attention.
“... like for you to do is pair up and practice your attacking and defending with a martial technique,” the wiry professor said. “Go slow, half strength only. The goal here is for you and your partner to explore your techniques and gain a deeper understanding of them. If you’re observant, and you push yourselves in the right ways, the next step along your path will reveal itself to you.”
“This would be a lot easier if he would just tell us what to learn next,” Clem grumped. “All this mushy-feely stuff isn’t really teaching if you ask me. Wanna partner up?”
“Of course,” I said gratefully. Clem was methodical and careful, which was why she was annoyed at Song’s intuitive approach to combat mastery. She’d much rather be given instructions to follow or books to study. That was also why she was a perfect partner for me. Clem wouldn’t push the limits; she’d do exactly as we’d been told.
No surprises meant no accidents.
“You may begin when you have a partner,” Professor Song said.
Pairs of students fanned out across the slightly springy dojo floor, giving all of us plenty of space to try out our techniques. I noticed Clem and I were given a wide berth, and I wondered whether that was because her mother was an adjudicator or because I’d just about murdered Kyle in front of all of them.
Probably a little of both.
“Do you mind if I go first?” Clem asked with a mischievous grin. “I’ve been working on an idea, and so far it hasn’t worked out. Maybe you can see where I’m messing up.”
“I’ll be happy to try,” I said, and dropped back into a defensive stance. I’d ditched all the beginner forms I’d relied on last year. The Gliding Shadow and Darting Minnow stances were useless against trained fighters, and the Tantrum Flail and Stunning Slap strikes weren’t powerful enough to do much more than sting. I’d adopted a variant of the street-fighting style somewhere between boxing and karate. Its basic defensive stance was the cross-armed guard. It provided excellent head defense against any lucky shots from Clem, and it was an awkward stance to launch a counterattack from, so I couldn’t inadvertently punch a hole through her chest.
Perfect.
“Look at Mr. Prizefighter over here,” Clem said. Her stance was loose and sloppy, one foot behind the other, hands dangling at her sides. I wasn’t sure if it was a ruse, because the Thunder’s Children were chaotic fighters who didn’t adhere to many traditional fighting styles. “Okay, this is supposed to be a defensive sweep. Something to push my opponent back and give me space to set up for a counterstrike.”
“Let’s see it,” I said, and braced myself for the attack.
Clem pivoted on her rear foot. She flung her lead leg up and out to its full extension. A flare of jinsei burst from her core and roiled down her leg like an avalanche. The sacred energy flowed into her heel well before the sole of her foot was pointed in my direction. The momentum of her sweeping horizontal kick fanned the jinsei away from her leg in a wide arc tinged with wind aspect.
My Eclipse nature instinctively understood the technique’s intent. The wind aspects would form a swathe of turbulence to push her opponent back or even knock them down if their core was significantly weaker than hers.
Fortunately, Clem and I both had initiate cores. Her attack was no real threat to me, and my Eclipse nature saw it more as a curiosity than a threat to be dealt with.
As Clem moved through her kick at low-speed, the scything curve of wind aspects rushed away from her. It reached me with enough force to push me back half a step. If I’d been unprepared or in the midst of an attack of my own, that might
