Divine Awakening

Ash’s confidence faltered. “You mean in a good way, right?”

Echo shook her head. “No, not in a good way.”

Ash’s Throat chakra heard the truth in her words, which he had a hard time accepting. How could she call his mastery hard to watch? Maybe she couldn’t see well in the moonlight.

Anger flared in Ash’s chest, ignited by his Solar Plexus chakra, which contained much of his self-confidence. He immediately smothered it, as emotions just got in the way. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop him from uttering the words he’d regret for the next two days.

“Maybe you can show me how it’s done then,” Ash said as evenly as he could.

Echo smiled, and the faint scent of cinnamon reached him. He noticed for the first time that her canine teeth were slightly longer and sharper than normal, but she already had the goth thing going, so maybe she’d just done that on purpose.

“Let’s spar,” Echo said.

They bowed to each other, and Ash attacked as soon as they were both set and ready. He used a Viper Step called Snatching Butterflies to feint to his right while executing a kick with his left foot.

Echo hardly moved, her every motion one of economy and precision.

Echo countered Snatching Butterflies with a Bamboo Step called Bridge to the Sun, completely ignoring the feigned right fist.

That combination had worked on everyone Ash had fought, other than his grandpa. He’d expected his Sisen to be an excellent Step practitioner, and she didn’t disappoint. Then he witnessed true mastery.

Echo rotated her hips the precise amount to avoid his kick, bending backward but never shifting her center of gravity.

As Ash’s kick missed its mark, Echo lazily extended her hand and touched his shoulder, which had rotated closer to add power to his kick.

The touch had happened too fast for Ash to react, despite its apparent almost lackadaisical execution. He fell backward as he lost his balance. Her attack had revealed a flaw in his stance where he’d allowed his center of gravity to shift too far to the right.

Ash turned the fall into a backflip and attempted to kick her in the chin, a move he could only accomplish because of his spectacular abilities and training. She easily dodged the attack and, in fact, used a hand to accelerate his feet.

Instead of landing on his feet, the additional speed she’d given Ash caused him to severely over-rotate. He placed a hand down to touch the ground so he could twist himself to safety, but she swiped his hand away with a casual sweep of her foot.

With all the extra momentum, Ash landed hard on his back, the wind exploding from his lungs in a rapid rush. He exerted pressure on his diaphragm to calm the spasms, which would allow him to quickly regain control of his lungs. Something he’d learned out of necessity as a five-year-old when his training began.

Only then did Ash realize that her initial finger strike had numbed a nerve cluster that serviced the pathway to his diaphragm, making it impossible to quickly recover.

As Ash lay on his back, gasping for air, the Grandmaster’s face loomed over him.

“What was your first mistake?” Echo asked.

“Underestimating your speed,” Ash got out between gasps.

Echo’s wicked smile returned, and the scent of cinnamon grew stronger. “Oh, child, if you only knew how painful it was to move that slow.”

Ash’s Throat chakra confirmed the truth of the matter-of-fact statement, despite his utter disbelief that a person could move faster than she’d already demonstrated.

Echo touched another nerve cluster above Ash’s third rib, and he regained control of his diaphragm.

Ash was proud of his abilities, and deservedly so. He had worked sixteen hours a day for most of his life, perfecting his body and techniques. He couldn’t remember a time he’d fallen so awkwardly, and pain radiated outward from his back. She had really sped up his rotation. His ego felt just as damaged.

When confronted with facts, Ash felt no anger or resentment from her words. He was proud but not arrogant and the emotion that finally surfaced was awe, followed quickly by immense humbleness, along with regret at his earlier assessment of his abilities.

Ash didn’t lay on the ground any longer than necessary and pushed himself to his feet. He rarely misjudged the skills of others, but even so, he never assumed that his training would be enough to survive. Now he knew that in this case, he’d vastly underestimated the difference between him and his Sisen.

Ash bowed. “This Sijun made many mistakes. First, I underestimated my opponent. This resulted in an attack that was far too aggressive without having fully, or at least partially, understood my opponent’s abilities. Second, I should’ve recognized that your identification of the feint meant you would be prepared for the kick, and I should’ve shifted from Snatching Butterflies to a more conservative strike, such as Four Elbows. Third, I allowed my center of balance to shift to the right, allowing my opponent to break my stance. Fourth, I was unprepared for the consequences of your attack and had no solution to counter them, leaving me vulnerable.”

Echo nodded. “Well, at least you aren’t hopeless, despite the terrible execution of your Steps. I mean no disrespect to Master Pine, but the isolation of this sect has done your techniques no favors.”

Once again, Ash didn’t allow his ego or any portion of his pride to react. The statement had been a fact, not an attempt to talk down or bully him.

Ash responded to her words with another bow and a heartfelt response. “I am thankful for your presence, Sisen, so these issues can be addressed.”

Echo acknowledged Ash’s bow with a nod and studied him. He remained silent, having fully embraced his role as Sijun.

“I can see your potential, Sijun, despite the disadvantages you face here. The sisters were correct in keeping you from the most recent Master’s trial, despite your qualifications to have participated. Give a prayer of thanks to whichever deity you worship, as that decision saved your life.”

After a moment of thought, Echo continued, “This might not be as terrible as I’d imagined. I’ll go over the first fifty mistakes, and we’ll determine your capacity for learning. Then I’ll adjust accordingly.”

“Fifty?” Ash blurted out. The number was so shocking that the words left his mouth before he could stop them.

This time Echo smiled with what Ash thought might be understanding. “Two weeks ago, you and I were the same, not exactly, but the degree doesn’t matter. A true Master of the Bamboo Viper Steps was kind enough to expose my flaws, and it opened my eyes to the truth.”

Echo paused for five seconds before locking eyes with Ash. “Do you know what that truth was, Sijun?”

“I’ll be honest, Sisen. I’ve not put much thought into such things.”

“I understand. Let me save you a few hundred years by telling you the answer, and perhaps that will help you find the path that leads to that answer.”

Ash waited in silence, surprised by the sudden philosophical turn.

“Nothing is more important than this fact—this truth. It’s the underlying foundation of everything. Embrace it. Clutch it desperately to yourself. It’s the key to not only the Steps but to whatever destiny fate has given you.”

Echo paused for another few seconds and then spoke. “The only truth is balance.”

Ash stared at her a little dumbly. “Balance?”

Echo closed her eyes for a few moments before responding. “I know you don’t grasp this truth yet. If you’re lucky—if you work hard—if you’re perceptive enough—then you’ll understand. My own comprehension is hardly a week old, and I remain shaken to my core by the revelation.”

Ash didn’t know how to respond, so he remained quiet.

“Good,” she said. “Now keep your mind open and vigilant for the secrets our Steps contain. There are many layers, and you have yet to discover the surface.”

That reminded Ash of the seemingly impossible number of mistakes that she’d detected with his forms. She’d demonstrated her mastery in such an overwhelming and complete fashion, though, he had no choice but to accept the truth of her words, so he focused intently on everything she said and did.

“Begin again,” Echo said, “and I’ll provide feedback until you’re overwhelmed.”

Ash nodded and prepared to begin the Bamboo Steps.

“Why do you begin with Bamboo and not Viper?”

The question surprised Ash, as he’d never considered why. “This is the way we’ve always started. It’s the way I was taught.”

Echo didn’t respond to Ash’s answer, but the simple question caused his mind to swirl. Why did they start with the Bamboo and not the Viper?

Ash hated this type of internal dialogue that questioned everything and demanded answers before any decisions could be made. It pushed him out of his comfort level, as he’d come to rely on his gut, on his instincts, on his chakras, which made most of his decisions quick. Forcing him to think about why he’d done something his whole life and casting that decision in a light that demanded a much better answer than “this is the way I was taught,” made him uncomfortable.

Ash settled into the initial Bamboo stance and readied himself to begin.

“Stop,” Echo said, stepping closer. “Where is your center of gravity?”

Ash let the confusion show on his face, as he felt perfectly centered.

Before Ash could respond, she placed her index finger just above Ash’s left hip bone, about sixty degrees left of center, and pushed gently.

To Ash’s astonishment, instead of easily withstanding the pressure, he shifted slightly backward, and his left foot no longer firmly connected to the ground.

The shift in Ash’s body was slight, but she wasn’t done and continued to poke him lightly three more times in rapid succession. The last finger to the bottom of his neck shifted his balance enough that he fell backward onto his butt.

“Reset,” Echo said, “and tell me what’s wrong.”

Despite knowing exactly where the imbalance had come from, Ash couldn’t detect the misalignment in his body. He replayed the sequence in his mind over and over but couldn’t figure out how his center of gravity was out of alignment.

“I apologize, Sisen,” Ash said. “My ignorance is embarrassing.”

Ash’s response contained only sincerity, as she’d demonstrated a problem he couldn’t detect. The last vestiges of his pride disappeared.

“There is hope for you, Sijun. This attitude will serve you well. The reason you sense nothing wrong is because you are centered correctly, or near enough anyway. The issue lies with your foundation. The best-built wall will crumble if the foundation is incorrect.”

Echo stepped closer, and once again Ash smelled cinnamon. “Are your feet in the proper position?”

Ash studied his feet and drew an imaginary line down from his shoulders, something he hadn’t done in a decade.

“They’re aligned with my shoulders,” Ash said simply.

“Just so,” she replied. “You must stop thinking of your body as a collection of parts and see it for what it is. A single thing.”

Sisen strode toward the clearing’s edge, and she waved for Ash to follow. She knelt, placed a finger against a yellow dandelion, and pushed on the stalk until it bent. She released the pressure and then gently pinched the yellow halo of the flower’s top, pulling in the other direction. Once again, the entire dandelion moved.

“This flower has leaves, a stem, and petals, and yet it moves as a whole, regardless of where I applied pressure. You see yourself as an assortment of pieces. Your feet under your shoulders, your back is straight, your hips are lowered, and your core is tight. Your visualization has created a weakness. It’s as if ropes connected each section of your body, and each one contributes to the instability. Try again, but view yourself as one whole.”

They returned to the center of the clearing, and Echo sat cross-legged, closing her eyes in meditation.

Ash did as instructed, and despite imagining himself like a giant dandelion, nothing looked wrong, and worse, nothing felt wrong.

An hour passed.

Echo opened her eyes and gracefully rose to her feet. “Well?”

Ash’s cheeks grew hot. “I apologize, Sisen, but I can’t locate the issue.”

Echo smiled. “I didn’t expect you to, but I wanted to be sure before I took us down the other path.”

A knot formed in Ash’s stomach.

“You and I are very similar in one respect, Sijun. Neither one of us enjoys thinking or spending any longer in our heads than necessary. We are intuitive learners, and most of our breakthroughs will only occur by action. While this proves detrimental on your path to understanding the secret of balance, it makes you a quick learner if the appropriate pressure is applied.”

Then Echo attacked, her Viper strikes coming so fast that Ash had to rely completely on his Bamboo Steps to defend himself. Her offense was so overwhelming, he never glimpsed an opening to strike back.

Echo predicted Ash’s every response, giving her an advantage against his Bamboo defense. Worse, his Bamboo Steps were weaker than his Viper, placing even more pressure on him.

Over and over again, Ash would reset, and she would attack. In minutes, every part of his body felt like someone had beaten him with a baseball bat.

Despite the pain and the humbling defeats, Ash persisted, neither complaining nor giving less than his all, until eventually, he felt an imbalance.

The revelation happened so suddenly it shocked Ash, and he failed to defend against her incoming strike. She pulled her punch at the last moment, though, displaying an extreme level of bodily control.

Echo stepped back and placed her hands behind her back. “What did you sense?”

Ash reached up and touched his chin. “It’s too low,” he whispered. “Just a fraction, but I can feel the tension it places on my neck, which pulls my shoulders forward by just a hair. To compensate, I’ve shifted my center of gravity backward that fraction, creating tension in my hamstrings. So while my body is aligned, my chin has transferred the imbalance all the way to my ankles.”

“Excellent, Sijun. That only took you seventy-five minutes.”

The comment held no sarcasm, only an honest expression of praise.

“While that’s excellent progress, I don’t believe your body could take the other forty-nine lessons related to your opening stance. Instead, we’ll work on only the most terrible error in each sequence. Hopefully, you’ll survive the next two days and gather enough insight to improve on your own until I come again.”

And so began the most painful two days of Ash’s life.