Tother Hand, Chapter 4 part 2

The river ranged from a creek several metres across to wider sections a few metres deep. Despite the heat, the water was always cold and clear and the camels drank it in huge gulps. Water was not a problem, and dried provisions were possible from trade, but comfort and sustenance was to be found in yurts and huts along the road. As was the custom, visitors could enter any yurt unannounced and expect a cup of butter tea and perhaps some stale bread. The only repayment was the joy of company, a shared story or witticism, or sometimes, music.

9001 had been trained in the _ney_, a long wooden reed flute which she dutifully played while they rested and enjoyed the hospitality along the hard road. The flute was used by her father as the training instrument for learning the silent language. Therefore, she would tell a long story that sounded like this:

The spring sun would rise early and low in the sky. The announcement of the rising sun was shouted by the sand lark. The early birds ran around, scooping up insects to eat. The trees begin to wake up as their sap rises from the ground. The dew hung heavily on each blade of grass. A lone fox scampered home, dejected from the night’s long hunt. The five-toed jerboa peeked out of his hole and surveyed the scene. He held several pieces of plant roots in his hands and grated them ritually, finding the tastiest snacks. He sniffed the air occasionally.

An afghan flying squirrel woke up and darted from limb to limb. The tulips opened their petals toward the rising sun. Poppies splashed open their leaves to drink the light. A baby wailed and the mother hopped up and down slightly to soothe it in the sling on her back. She blew through a wooden tube to fan the embers as she cooks up a stew and prepares tea. The yak snorted and strained as the father tills the field outside. Tiny Bucherian voles shriek as their tunnels are destroyed by the farmer and his wooden instruments rip the soil.

A woodpecker tapped at the tree bark, searching out the larvae it knew are burrowing underneath. All of this life and bustle was overwhelmed, however, by vast stretches of snow and rock. Snow piled up during the winter began to thaw further and further up the mountain sides. It dripped, dripped, dripped. The drips swirled together to form rivulets. The rivulets fall, fall, fall, over the edge of a rock. The pools gather and cascade, bubbling downhill to join a river.

A leaf blows in the wind, tugged, tugged, tugged until it finally flies free. It floats one metre forwards, ten centimetres backwards, one metre forwards, and so on until it lands on the ground. A slug moved nearby crawled underneath seeking shelter. Two V-shaped groups of greylag geese travelled north, honk, honk, honking along. Above them, a steely-eyed peregrine falcon surveyed the scene banking in slow circles, trying to find a warm lift. It spiraled higher and higher until it spotted a mouse and then it dove straight down to catch its breakfast.

The leaf with a slug under it moved twice, then stopped. The baby in the sling cried until its mother shushed it and loosened the straps to turn the baby forward and suckle. The fox slunk into its hole and slept fitfully. The woodpecker feasted on a grub. The peregrine falcon pulled a long intestine string, stood upright to look in the far distance unblinking. The water droplets fell in a regular pattern.

When the song ended, the hosts would applaud and offer more tea. 9001 blushed at the attention, and her father tried to hide his tears by pretending to be interested in his bread or the pattern of a rug. She reached out to clap him on the shoulder as a sweet gesture and he was able to deflect it with _bong sao_, or the wing arm, even though he had not seen her move towards her. She was miffed and a tiny drop of acid dripped into the deep cavern she stored in her heart. Tiny drips and drops over time had accumulated into a well of resentment and anger.

Another purpose of the visits to the yurts was to perform any rites and rituals that the Healers could provide. After 9001 performed with the _ney_, the old woman motioned them over to one of the mats on the side of the yurt, behind a wooden screen. On it lay an old wrinkled man who coughed infrequently. The old woman nodded to the man and pointed as she pulled back the folding screen and leaned it against the _khana_. The old man was at least 60, and his features were deeply cragged. His hands the broken fissures of a ragged wall. He had white wispy hair and a scraggly beard.

The old woman said, may Ahura Mazda take him. His _mazda_ is gone, there is too much _druj_ in his _ahura_, his being. Ahriman takes him and he yells and shouts. You came by here last fall and he was already decaying.

She covered her eyes.

She begged, please send him to his guardian _mainyu_ and let me him battle against Them in the next life. He is not connected to this earth. Please help him.

2711 asked her, mother, who can take care of you when father is gone on to Ahura’s side?

The old woman beamed. She said, my two sons are grown. They have wives and children of their own. They each visit us in alternating seasons. They are fine young men who take care of their parents and venerate their ancestors.

She got onto her knees and bowed slowly, arms extended like child’s pose. Her voice was muffled by the dirt of the floor. She said, Ahura take him. Ahriman cannot have him here.

She let out a wail of grief. 2711 helped her up to her feet.

He said, mother, serve us another cup of butter tea and then fetch us some water from the stream.

She cleaned her face with her sleeve and set to the kettle, preparing two cups of butter tea. Then she bowed deeply, stepping backward, out of the yurt.

2711 sat cross legged in front of the mat, and sipped his tea. 9001 copied him as best as she could.

He said, we heal by joining the _mazda_ with the _mainyu_. The _mainyu_ is as water, flowing down from the icy mountains. It winds downhill and ends in a lake. That lake is like the afterlife. The water does not flow back uphill to the mountain and freeze again. Only the fierce fire spirits of the sun can stir the waters back into the air. The air is the mind, or _mazda_. This is not a metaphor. It is actually wind and water. Ahura created the earth and all the plants and animals from the four substances. It makes sense that the mind and the spirit are also formed from these substances.

2711 moved his hand over the old man’s features, but did not touch his face. The man’s whitened and cataract eyes opened briefly, then fluttered shut in fear. The old man began to whimper.

A twig snapped and a small axe made three chopping noises on a sapling trunk. The tree shook and leaves rustled. This was the silent language meaning, you have learnt the rituals and observed them. Now perform them. I will guide you.

9001 started from her contemplation of the tea. A lamb bleated. It asked, what about mother outside?

2711 turned to her and shook his head. An owl hooted, which meant that the old woman already knew. She was not fetching water from the stream.

9001 nodded and a sudden giddiness took over. She had always wanted to try her hand at a ritual of healing and hated merely watching and providing the implements. She walked outside to get the supplies and equipment from the camel’s pack. She saw the woman walking slowly, ambling on a stick toward the river. 9001 watched her for a long time, but the old woman never once turned back to look.

9001 gathered the equipment and moved back to the yurt. She looked one more time across the widest part of the valley for the old woman. 9001 finally spotted the top of her scarf-wrapped head, down in a depression along the stream. The old woman slowly raised her arms and stood up, then slowly lowered her arms and squatted. She was performing the supplication and offering to Ahura, who would be surely pleased, 9001 thought.

She brought the equipment inside and laid it out neatly in front of her, next to the old man’s head. Her father sat in meditation at the man’s feet.

9001 began, Ahura creates.

2711 agreed, Ahura creates.

9001 said, Ahriman destroys.

2711 said, Ahriman destroys.

9001 said, _druj_ is everywhere, unless we fight every day.

2711 spit to the side and said, _druj_ is everywhere.

9001 spit to the side because she had forgotten. She acted as if she had intended to spit later. She said, we will heal the body so that the guardian _mainyu_ will rejoin with the _mazda_.

She took a thin brass tube with a clinking cap on one end. The other end was pointy and hollow. In the other hand, she took out a wooden mallet. She blew on the pointy, sharp end of the tube and the clinking cap snapped shut and her cheeks puffed out. She sucked back in and the cap relented so that air flowed back into her mouth. Taking the tube and mallet, she scooted forward toward the man on her knees.

A dog barked, danger.

9001 froze, mentally examining the ritual steps. She looked down at her hands, then realised the problem. She swapped the tube to her right hand and the mallet to her left. The mallet felt very heavy and unwieldy in the left hand, but that was the proper hand taught to all the Healers since the beginning of time. She paused to make sure there were no further instructions, then continued.

She placed the pointed end of the tube at the man’s throat in target 1. Moving quickly with two heavy taps, she drove the tube home. The man gurgled and a little blood dribbled around the wound. She reached behind her and took a piece of cloth to wipe up the blood. No matter how much blood she wiped up, more seemed to accumulate after a short while.

2711 said, leave the blood. It will fill the voids if there are any left behind. Move quicker.

She nodded, wiped her forehead with the wraps around her neck. It was suddenly hot and close in the yurt. She was sweating and shaking. The old man continued to make sucking noises that seemed to get louder. His legs were starting to move about.

She took a longer tube from the equipment behind her, then shuffled down to the old man’s knees. This tube had a shiny first third, then a dull middle third and a grimy upper third. It was very tiny and sharp at the beginning, then tapered out to the width of a thumb at the end. Moving as quickly and as adeptly as she could, she aimed the pointy shape at the inside of the old man’s inside thigh, about one hand above the knee. The old man was shaking by now and his leg jerked.

2711 said, use the frozen time, it is almost too late.

9001 closed her eyes, then forced them open as she pushed herself into the area between the light and dark.

She could see her father sitting in meditation, eyelids drooping. She didn’t see any bands of light and dark and, in fact, she noticed it was quite bright. This meant she had performed a nearly flawless synchronisation with the hills and valleys created by the balance of spirits in the light of the yurt. She moved the hand with the mallet, but did it too quickly and met resistance. The lights flickered darker then brighter. She concentrated more and moved her arm slowly but smoothly through and arc.

The mallet struck twice and she could observe the tube move up the first third of the man’s thigh. The second strike drove the point home and there was a satisfying rebound of metal on bone from the tube inside the man’s thigh. She knew was was going to happen, so she moved the mallet back around her side and waited for a long agonising amount of time for a spout of blood to pour out.

A pair of cranes saluted the heavens with the loud honking. This meant, you forgot to place the bowl.

She looked over at her father who had spoken in the silent language and his eyes were now open. There was an amused look in his face. Ignoring his scorn, she moved the mallet as smoothly and quickly as she could to the ground and then, in one motion, scooped up the large basin to catch the blood. She could see the old man’s rigid body was beginning to collapse down, it was as if he were a rag thrown on the floor, just before it collapses onto the ground. She placed the basin and dragged the tube down to pour into it.

Deep purple, almost black, blood appeared at the end of the tube and drove downward in spreading rivulets. They moved as slowly as ants in the winter morning. Her eyelids were closing by now, so she gently fell out of rhythm with the light and landed back in the yurt.

She heard the metallic click of the spout in the man’s neck, heard a small hiss, and then splashing water in the basin. The old man yelped something that sound like not or night, it was probably the second letter 4: death. The bubbling and splashing sound of the blood continued for a few seconds, but the man was already dead. The hissing in the spout by his neck was gone. The basin was filling up with thick congealed ichor.

2711 said, _noit_.

9001 agreed, but too late, death.

Gathering her wits, she quickly recovered.

She said addressing the old man, may your spirit find no rest until your guardian guides you to _mainyo_, far away beyond the lakes and the mountains. Your body is spent and wasted, _druj_ is already setting in. Ahriman will take the body and you must not be around to meet Them. They will meet you instead with your guardian at the battlefield where Ahura and all the other _mainyu asha_ are fighting. Go away, far away, or else mother will come back and be tempted to visit you. She is not ready to join Ahura and her guardian yet. You must leave and never come back. I curse your horrid body forever.

Her father clapped three times. 9001 clapped three times, arms akimbo, hands straight up and facing each other in prayer position. The old man convulsed once. 9001 looked over at her father fearfully. He shook his head. The old man was gone.

Tother Hand, Chapter 3-4 part 5-1

He said, I am proud. But you used the wrong side. You led with the right.

She gasped and wrenched her arm back, rubbing her deltoid.

He asked, what did you do differently that time?

She said, I used the chant for 8999 as I said.

He said, but 9003 is the correct count. It is always two more than your name. That is the law of nature and Healers.

She said, there are too many threes in 9003.

She held up her fingers. 9 is three threes. Three imbalanced threes.  Or a trinity of _mazdas_.

He said, Ahura Mazda is sacred. Except, it seems undeniable.

She continued, and there is an extra 3. Four threes or imbalance and death. It is incorrect.

Her father stared at her.

She said, so I use 8999.

Her father used the word for “impossible” which also sounds like a curse.

She cried, I almost got you with it!

He said, I agree. But you didn’t get me. A friendly brush on the cheek is not going to do any damage to an enemy who will gladly kill you. You must strike quickly and without hesitation. You do not strike to wound or play with an enemy. If you are going to hit, make sure you kill.

She said, I understand. Like you tried to kill me.

He snapped, I should have. You do not take your training seriously.

He sat down on his mat, and patted the space next to him.

He said, now we meditate to train the mind in stillness.

Chapter Four

Several days later, they began the process of breaking down the yurt to make way towards the edge of the city where 2711’s brother lived. They made the long trek across the long edges of the sloping valley. The main road was an hour’s walk from the edge of the forest near the base of the higher end of the valley they lived in. It sloped westwards down towards the lowest ridges of the chain behind them. They followed the surprisingly well-developed road for a long way with their two camels carrying everything they owned.

The river valley narrowed and widened over the course of several days’ travel. At times, the mountains on either side seemed to meet a few metres apart. At other times, they would pass into wide valleys, kilometres wide. The summer heat ranged from bearable to stifling. Swathes of green grass and farmlands hugged the river as it snaked between the straddle of the brown mountains. Outside of the bands of green, everything was brown dust and rock. Behind them, as they moved mostly downhill following the river, the mountains seemed to climb higher and higher, like pigs climbing over each other to react their mothers’ teats. The white caps at the tops of the highest peaks continued the analogy.

They stopped every day well before noon, and camped for a nap under a tree or high rocks. Sometimes they draped a part of the yurt covering over a camel and slept beneath it for the afternoon. Then they began again after the heat of the day had settled and they could walk. Water and game were plentiful along the way, including supplies that could be bartered from traders headed north and east.

Where are they going, she had asked.

They were going towards the Silk Road from Kabul, he had taught her. The silk road was north about a month’s walk. It crossed at a major trading post called Kashgar. Kashgar was the last place of habitable earth and it lay at the western edge of the largest desert in the world. The only way to cross it wss with skilled tradesmen and their camels following the Silk Road east to the Middle Kingdom. Farther past the Middle Kingdom was the ocean, an impassable desert itself. As an example of scale, he had described that Kabul was almost a week’s travel away. Kashgar was a month. From Kashgar to the Middle Kingdom, it would take at least a year.

The river ranged from a creek several metres across to wider sections a few metres deep. Despite the heat, the water was always cold and clear and the camels drank it in huge gulps.

Tother Hand, Chapter 3 part 4

A tree limb creaked and a lamb bleated. It meant, I am calm now. I am focused.

A bird cawed. It asked, are you sure?

By now he had moved across her whole field of vision and swapped sides from right to left. The light sputtered and she dropped out into real time. Her father held out his fingertips. There were black smudges on them from the fire pit.

He said, you have black marks on your face and neck where you would have been struck dead. Again.

She brushed her cheeks and her hands came away with black smudges on them.

He said, you must be faster, smoother, more focused, and calmer. Rhythm and timing are more important than raw speed or force. When you walk or run, you fall into a natural pace. Trying to walk faster may work for a few steps, but you will misstep. Pushing yourself to run faster will only make you slow down to find your gait. You may even trip and fall. When horses run, they have three gaits: the walk, trot, canter, and gallop. The beats for each are 4, 2, 3, and 4 again. These beats are not compatible and each rhythm has a specific application and use. The Mongolians to the northeast have mastered each one.

You must learn to follow the same beats to stay in synchronisation with the flow of time. The number of the beats is two more than your name. 9003, the name of your twin sister whose beats you will fill to move time.

She shook her head. I have practiced 9003 many times and it doesn’t work. It is too difficult. I use 8999 instead.

He stared at her dumbfounded. He repeated it slowly: _spenta nava nava nava_. Bountiful triple pain. He repeated another homophone for the letter 8: father.

She nodded. Here, I’ll show you.

With that, she counted the syllables of the magical name that was two less than her name. She took special delight in the natural downbeat of the 1/3 rhythm she had practiced to herself during long nights and boring days of training. She was already in the frozen time between light and dark. Her eyelids were opening already and the bands of orange and darkness on the yurt _khana_ were gone. The whole yurt was bathed in a wonderful glow of candle light and reflected white light from the smoke hole above. She could move her hands and feet smoothly and effortlessly. She was not moving quickly, but everything seemed aligned and balanced as she thought briefly that the time magick had failed.

She saw her friend, the spider, hanging by an invisible thread at an improbable angle, swayed by some unseen breeze. But he did not move, nor did he fall or sway upward. The spider simply hung there floating but solid: not floating, butfixed in one spot.

She looked at her father and was shocked to see him standing dumbly, his eyes half closed. The orange and black bars flickered and she regained her focus quickly so that the lines and shades merged into one bright picture. She continued to move in even, smooth circles: elbow, wrist, waist, knee, ankle, and so on, in the same rhythm. She had moved closer to her father such that the _man sao_ would be able to seek the bridge if she reached out. Instead, she brushed his cheek leading from the right, switched _wu sao_ to _pak sao_ and bumped his shoulder.

She was moving so quickly she could see the shape of the indentation of her motions still moving like ripples in water. She shifted twice more through the box of doom in front of her father and used _pak sao_, slapping hand, on his right elbow and switched hands and twister her wrist to hit his shoulder. She noticed too late that his shoulder had somehow moved and his eyes were open. He blocked her arm with _tan sao_, the receiving hand. Her bridge collapsed as he deflected her attack and as he shifted, his _wu sao_ lifted her elbow and he shifted, moving in for the rib.

She instinctively rotated the elbow around the contact with the _tan sao_, knowing full well the excruciating pain of a rib blow from countless practices. She allowed punch to extend a bit more, waiting for the moment of commitment. Commitment was the exact moment when the muscles, angles, and space of the attack had become firm. In that moment, the attack cannot be recalled or changed: the rock was flying in the air. When she saw the commitment form along the top of his arm, she quickly turned her arm to water to circle the elbow forward, guiding the punching fist helplessly behind her.

While she kept the contact with the bridge forming behind her, his other hand was already forming a _huen sao_, circling back to either a _fook_ or _pak sao_, good for either subduing or slapping. She was already prepared, having turned her waist in anticipation, calmly moving her feet propped up on the balls and moving smoothly in circles along the dirt floor. The _wu sao_ in her left side came forward from the shoulder, was propelled by the waist, which was locked in strength and a straight line coming directly up from the earth. The hand moved forward only as the elbow moved ahead of the shoulder. Her fist formed as a packed line and she straightened her elbow only at the last moment. This propelled the fist forward so fast it became a blur, even in the frozen time magick.

Her hand struck something solid and satisfying and she dropped out of the spell ready to gloat about her victory. However, pain shot backward from her fist to her wrist, elbow, shoulder and even her back. Her father had caught the punch and twisted her wrist a quarter turn outwards so the thumb moved out from the centre of her body. By turning the wrist outwards on a straightened arm, the radius follows and twists the elbow open. It locked quickly and disabled the entire arm, and thus, side.

He said, I am proud. But you used the wrong side. You led with the right.

She gasped and wrenched her arm back. She rubbed her deltoid and cried, I almost got you.

Tother Hand, Chapter 3 part 3

You can see that a tree exists by looking at the shadow. The object itself gives rise to the shadow. This is the same with the intent of the weapon. The enemy’s movements and attacks are only a shadow that emanates from the intent in their mind. The tree shapes the shadow, and you can deduce backward from the shadow what the shape of the tree is. There are several ways to hide the intent of your mind’s weapon. In increasing order of importance, they are: moving and scrambling your arms and legs quickly to distract the enemy; feinting and misleading in one direction while going in the other instead; and finally, keeping still and moving so quickly that the enemy cannot see the shadow until the tree has fallen on them.

He asked, how quickly do you think a reaction to some action is?

She knew the answer: one blink.

He nodded and asked, how quickly can you launch an attack at close range?

She knew the answer again: half of a blink.

He nodded and said, as I have said many times, a single object or event does not exist without a pair. A blink consists of a closing lid and opening lid. Or, the opposite, a closing movement to an opening movement. If you start your attack from the beginning of the closing movement, your attack will be in full force and motion by the time the eyelid closes and your opponent cannot perceive your attack. You will have the rest of the blink to perform the attack and finish the motion. In other words, if you remember the story of the tree and the shadow, your opponent will not see the tree move until the shadow has already reached them.

The other forms that I explained briefly do not work for the following reasons. Wasted motions and darting hands or feet will not distract a skilful opponent. They will simply wait for some moment of imbalance or pause in the distraction and strike you down with one blow. Feinting will also be impractical or not succeed because most feints are too obvious to even unskilled opponents. Throwing a fist or a kick that is not real looks different and is easily spotted. It also upsets the balance of your true line of attack. Once a rock is thrown in the air, it will not change direction.  And even if you succeed in fooling your opponent and then regain your balance to land the blow you truly seek, it will be weakened by wasted energy and motion setting up the feint.

So once again, the attack that you seek should be as a tree that stands straight and true without the faintest movement. The shadow of your intent will be expressed the same way, as complete stillness and calm. An attack can come from anywhere, at any time, from any direction. When the tree shakes, the shadow will move across the opponent’s closed eyes and they will be struck down without having any understanding that something has even happened. If you have performed the attack and follow-ups, then the opponent will be greeted by their guardian spirit upon opening their eyes. The only sound in their ears will be a recitation of the curse that binds their _mainyu_ to the guardian _mainyu_ and prevents the _ahura_ essence from coming back to the body.

He said, everything I have shared so far is not unusual, and in fact, Soldiers and Monks have studied these techniques for so long that no one remembers who created them. Anyone who has the inclination can learn these teachings and it must be the case that they were created from careful observation and practice, which can be done by anyone with enough interest and devotion to study. However, the next teachings I have already shared with you are known only to a select few and cannot be learnt by mere observation or teaching.

The action of slowing time for the moment of striking cannot be performed without the overabundance of _ashra_ present in the left-handed children of twins. This is the reason that the Elders must separate the children and then raise them as Healers. This technique is only useful for lethal purposes, and can only be executed by those who both have the excess _ashra_ and the training and focus required. I have said it takes at least 20 years to master the mind and you have not even lived twenty yet. That is given a mastery of the body for 20 years, which you have not accomplished yet either. Even if you started training the mind diligently at the age of ten, you would not even be halfway to mastery of the mind yet.

However, you have shown promise at using the time slowing magick which is more than I could have hoped. However, you do not have a full mastery of it because you struggle to wield it and you are sloppy and dangerous in application. That is why we train with real weapons and real blades. You cannot learn these disciplines properly with props or fake weapons. The wound in your neck will serve a reminder to you that your practice is real and has real consequences. You cannot make a mistake like that facing an enemy, even an unskilled one. You must study the magick carefully and use your focus in a most serious and intentional manner.

He got up and went outside to lower the canvas onto the khana lattices that allowed the cooling breezes into the ger. He came back inside and lit a candle even though the full sun shone through the smoke hole at the top of the ger. 9001 prepared herself for the practice she knew was coming. They both sat up straight on their mats and folded their legs and placed their arms loosely at their sides.

He said, we use the candle because the flickering of the wick helps beginners. Remember that a single energy does not exist without a balancing pair. The fire spirits are drawn to the water spirit of the yak butter in the wick. They join together and create light and warmth. If you hold your hand over the candle, you know it will burn you. Even a small candle can burn your skin beyond repair. This is the release of the fire spirits and their aggression. But they are not alone when they are released, you can also see the smoke which is the air spirits fighting to escape.  The air spirits are harmless compared to the fire spirits, but it is the pairs separating that create the opportunity for the light to move outward.

The flickering is caused by the battle between these spirits. If you blow on the candle, the air spirits prevail and the flame sputters. If you place a bowl over the candle, the fire spirits vanquish themselves and cannot continue without replenishing the air spirits. As I say, this flickering is the key to finding the opportunity to stretch time. It is at the precise time that the candle begins to flutter, or if you prefer, when the fluttering stops, that you may will yourself into the space between the two opposing spirits and you can then move freely in between the light and the darkness of the flickering candle.

He said, now concentrate on the flame and will yourself into the gap between the lightness and the darkness. You must also time it when your own breath is going either in or out, and your eyes are blinking open or closed. You cannot force your eyes open and you cannot hold your breath. It must all work together in pairs: opening and closing, in breath and out breath, air spirits and fire spirits. They must all be timed together. Do it.

She paced her breathing and blinking and stared at the flame calmly. When the top of her breath was reached, she felt herself opening her eyes, and she could see the flame at the base of the wick holding steady. Everything seemed as still and serene as a starry sky on a moonless night. She could see the bottom of the still flame wobble slightly, and so she projected herself into the space between the still flame and the darkness of the flutter.

She then found herself in the space between the light and the darkness where time was frozen. Her eyes were begging to open and her breath was relaxing. She had timed it perfectly and it was always a thrill to get it correct. The ger khana were covered in a dappled pattern, reminiscent the light through a brazier mesh. The orange and dark bands were the flickers from the candle flame as it alternated between dancing and stillness. But even above the khana, the smoke hole was half-filled with light and half-filled with darkness. Even the sun’s own light was balanced in dances and waves which were only visible during time magick.

She lifted her arms as if underwater, slowly but without effort. If she used too much effort to move, the spell would be broken. If she used too little effort, she would move at the normal rate of speed without magick. In between those two extremes, she could move at a rate that followed each band of orange and black of the dancing dappled light. She had to use the same measured rhythm of moving her eyes to see the other side of the ger.

Her father, having already anticipated her moves, was standing already, his back knee was off his mat and the front foot was already moving toward her. Her arms had made it up in the starting position with the _man sao_ and _wu sao_. She will her arms and legs to move without exertion, allowing the bands of the light to move slowly and effortlessly against her and through her. Her father was very close now, and he appeared to be moving as fast as the bands of light, rather than at her speed lagging behind the bands. He seemed to be travelling so fast that he rode one band of orange and dark lines, almost as if he were split in half by the pattern.

She panicked slightly and tried to move her _man sao_ in place faster. The bands of light fluttered faster and slower. She moved from complete darkness to blinding brilliance, out of sync with the flame. She willed herself to slow down to the correct rhythm and snapped back into stillness. She could see the orange glow, darkness in between them, and the smoke hole as well.

Her father stood in full stance seeking the bridge in front of her. The silent language is the only one that can be used during time magick, that is why Healers use it. He made noises like the fluttering of bird wings, and the winds whipping through dry grass. It meant, you are still losing focus and I would have beaten you in a duel.

A tree limb creaked and a lamb bleated. It meant, I am calm now. I am focused.