Chapter 16: First Training Grounds
Morning fog clung to everything. Tharia walked through it anyway, passing two outer disciples who made a point of not looking at her; word traveled fast in sects, apparently.
She fell into the shuffle of outer disciples trudging up toward the training terrace. The air tasted like dew and incense from dawn rites, which sounded spiritual until you realized it just smelled like wet stone and someone's failed attempt at making breakfast smell holy.
Half the recruits looked alert. Tharia was not in that half, her body hadn't figured out the sleep situation yet. Give it time.
The path opened onto a broad training terrace of pale stone with circular patterns carved into the surface, sigils that shimmered faintly as they channeled ambient qi upward. The formations pulsed with a steady hum that made the air vibrate in a way that felt like standing too close to a very judgmental tuning fork.
The outer disciples slowed, instinctively cautious.
A senior disciple raised one hand and the chatter died instantly.
"These are the outer training grounds. The array gathers ambient qi and cycles it upward. Those of you who've opened your first vein will feel your circulation strengthen immediately."
Tharia felt static, like a faint buzz of brushing a hand over a low-grade illusion array. The terrace was built for real cultivators with their real opened meridians and their real understanding of how qi circulation worked.
Not for someone whose qi flow could charitably be described as "enthusiastic guessing".
'They won't find out right?'
She narrowed her eyes at the formations. Wondered if she could trick them into thinking she was legitimate.'That sounded fun.'
Then Kaela stepped forward.
The atmosphere changed so fast Tharia half-expected the temperature to drop.
The recruits stiffened. One boy swallowed so hard his throat clicked. Another adjusted his grip on a practice staff like it was suddenly a life preserver. A third tried to look confident and instead achieved "constipated."
Silence spread across the terrace like someone had cast a muting spell.
Kaela wore standard training robes that somehow looked ceremonial anyway, her long white ears catching the breeze as she moved. Tharia's brain noted this with more interest than was probably useful.
Every step landed like it had decided to. Every movement had weight. The kind of weight that makes nearby people suddenly interested in their own feet.
'Wait is that the rabbit-kin from the entry sect? Very pretty,' some unhelpful part of Tharia's brain contributed. 'And deeply intimidating. Both at once, somehow.'
Her tail swished.
"Warm-ups begin with basic stances." Kaela's voice was level but somehow made several recruits swallow nervously anyway. "Precision is the foundation of cultivation. Without proper root and breath, no technique can be sustained."
'
'Bold of you to assume I have proper anything,' Tharia thought.
Kaela shifted into the first stance — slow, controlled — her silhouette cutting clean lines through the mist like a living diagram drawn to make everyone else feel inadequate.
The outer disciples scrambled to follow. Tharia followed too, with significantly less grace and significantly more chaos.
The formations hummed for everyone else. For Tharia they just buzzed, indifferent.
She looked around at the recruits, all focused, all cycling qi she couldn't access. Then she looked down at her illusion robe, perfectly opaque, perfectly stable.
For now.
'What would they do if they looked over right now... and realized I was wearing next to nothing under this... Kyaaa~'
Her face went warm, tail swishing. She shook the thought away before it could cause problems.
Then she stretched with theatrical flourish. When Kaela planted her feet in the ground-shaking stance of someone who Understood Cultivation, Tharia exaggerated the posture until her tail curved behind her like a banner made of pure audacity.
The two recruits beside her made strangled noises trying not to laugh.
'This is fine. This is completely normal behavior. No one is looking at me.'
Kaela's head turned.
Silence descended like someone had dropped a mountain on the terrace.
The disciples around Tharia achieved perfect stillness with the speed of prey animals realizing a predator was looking at them. Tharia blinked up at Kaela with wide, innocent violet eyes that absolutely were not laughing internally.
Kaela's red eyes narrowed. She said nothing and moved to the next stance.
'She's going to make me do stances until my legs stop working. Still worth it.'
Warm-ups continued without major incident until one recruit tried shifting into a back-weighted guard too quickly. His foot slipped. He lurched forward and collided with another disciple, who toppled into a third like the world's worst domino chain.
Three recruits sprawled on the stone in a tangle of limbs. One of them said something that would have gotten him dismissed from a polite sect.
One tried to laugh it off. Another rubbed his knee with a grimace that suggested his entire leg had personally betrayed him. The third muttered apologies to the universe. A ripple of muffled snickers spread through the group until Kaela's flat stare murdered the joy.
The terrace regained order instantly.
"Reset."
Drills moved into controlled strikes and footwork sequences. The formations beneath the stone hummed louder, responding to anyone trying to circulate qi. Those who'd opened their first vein felt sudden clarity buzzing through their limbs. Those who hadn't felt mild discomfort and a growing sense that they were cosmically behind on homework.
Tharia was firmly in the second category.
Kaela moved among them with practiced ease, adjusting stances and correcting grips. She didn't raise her voice, but disciples straightened like someone had yanked invisible strings attached to their spines whenever her gaze landed on them.
A few recruits stopped practicing entirely. Just watched Kaela move.
Her form was the kind that made you realize your own body had been making bad decisions for years.
Tharia saw it too, and instead of being humbled, decided to make it entertainment.
She slipped into Kaela's shadow. Mimicked the older girl's precision with obvious theatrical exaggeration. Arms swayed too far. Steps were too wide. Her tail flicked back and forth in rhythm, drawing muffled laughter from those nearby.
The disciples closest to her tried desperately not to laugh.
Kaela pivoted.
Tharia froze mid-step, tail crooked at an unnatural angle. The disciples scattered before Kaela's eyes could land on them.
Kaela regarded Tharia with cool patience, said nothing — again — and continued her inspection.
If she felt irritation, she hid it behind steady composure.
Two hours of drills left most of them drenched in sweat. Even the ones who'd started the morning with energy struggled to maintain their stances. The terrace was littered with groans and stiff limbs by the time Kaela dismissed them.
"Return tomorrow at dawn. Those who cannot hold their stance for more than thirty breaths will repeat the basic sequence until they can. Dismissed."
They limped away in small groups. Some compared bruises. Others staggered off silently, desperate for rest.
Tharia waved casually at those she passed.
She looked entirely too energetic for someone who'd spent two hours pretending to train.
She waited until the last cluster disappeared behind the terrace steps.
Then doubled back.
The terrace was empty by late afternoon. Tharia walked back to the center and stood still while the formations pulsed with faint light, the sun dipping behind the mountains.
Her playful posture slipped away; tail lowered, ears swiveling forward, and she inhaled slow.
She inhaled slow.
The diagrams from Opening the Foundation Veins spun in her mind, frustratingly complex, each sequence requiring internal awareness she barely had. Meridians that were supposed to "open naturally with focused breathing." Qi that was supposed to "flow like water finding its path."
'My qi flows like a drunk squirrel. Chaotic. Uncooperative. Probably mocking me.'
She planted her feet anyway, lowered her center, and adjusted her stance until her legs trembled slightly from the effort.
The hum of the formations deepened around her as the System overlay flickered into view.
System
[SYSTEM NOTICE: Foundational manual recognized—Opening the Foundation Veins]
Training program active.
Step 1: Root stance—duration 30 breaths.
Step 2: Controlled inhale/exhale—ratio 1:2
Step 3: Qi focus—fingertip resonance.
Progression target: Vein resonance threshold 100%
Current status: You are cosmically behind.
[collapse]
Tharia's eye twitched. "Thank you for that."
[You're welcome.]
[Begin when ready.]
[Note: Cultivation progress recommended. The squirrel situation remains unresolved.]
"You're the worst."
[I'm you. Draw your own conclusions.]
She exhaled slowly and began trying to cycle her internal qi.
A thin flicker of pink light gathered at her fingertips. It trembled. Wavered. Looked like it might scatter at any moment out of pure spite. Sweat beaded at her temple. The energy refused to settle.
She pressed harder, jaw tight. 'Come on. Behave.'
Her vision brightened with new overlays.
System
[SYSTEM NOTICE: Qi Flow—Erratic (understatement)]
Vein resonance threshold: Unopened (shocking)
Stability Index: 23% (generous estimate)]
[collapse]
"I hate you so much."
[Focus or the number gets worse.]
Tharia grimaced, clenched her jaw a second time, and pressed forward anyway.
Her breath came uneven. Her stance wobbled. She corrected it with a grunt and tried again. The System overlays dimmed slightly when she steadied her breathing. She sank deeper into the stance. Her muscles burned. Her legs shook like leaves in a storm. Her qi flickered, dimmed, surged with surprising intensity for half a breath, then sputtered out like a candle in wind.
She stayed there anyway. Refusing to move. Refusing to let the instability win.
'I am not going to be beaten by my own body. I am a princess. I can open one stupid vein.'
[More like a naked princess.]
'Shut up and help me.'
[Fine. Adjust your breathing. You're forcing it. Let it flow.]
She tried. It helped. Marginally.
A breeze swept across the terrace, cool and smelling faintly of pine.
Tharia didn't notice she was being watched.
*
[POV: Kaela]
Kaela had come back to check the formations.
She'd expected an empty terrace.
The foxgirl was at the center, alone, her posture strained in the way of someone who had no idea what they were doing and was doing it anyway. Her qi flickered against the carved sigils — erratic, undisciplined, completely wrong in technique.
And she kept going.
Kaela watched without announcing herself. The girl staggered when her qi backfired, shook her arms out, reset her stance. Every small improvement was visible. Every improvement was fought for.
'This morning she'd mocked my drills in front of everyone. This afternoon she was here.'
Kaela said nothing. When Tharia finally collapsed onto the stone and grinned at the sky, Kaela turned and left before she could be noticed. The breeze caught her robes.
She didn't have a conclusion she was willing to draw yet. But it wasn't annoyance anymore.
*
Tharia eventually pushed herself upright after what felt like three hours but was probably closer to one.
Her entire body ached in new and creative ways. But under the exhaustion, a spark of stubborn determination refused to die. She stretched her legs with a wince, wiped her forehead, and showed a small satisfied smile to absolutely no one.
"Again tomorrow. And the day after. And the day after that until my veins open out of sheer annoyance."
The terrace hummed beneath her feet as she left. She walked slowly back toward the caves, mind already racing with adjustments. Maybe if she angled her breathing differently. Maybe if she focused on her core instead of her fingertips first. Maybe if she bribed the formations with compliments.
'Actually, that last one might work. Arrays liked attention, right?'
If she wanted to avoid punishment for her antics and survive Duskwind's brutal demands, she'd need to work twice as hard in secret. Three times as hard. Possibly four times, depending on how angry Kaela got about the tail thing.
The System flickered at the edge of her vision.
System
[SYSTEM NOTICE: Training session logged]
Progress: Root stance—27 breaths sustained
Qi focus: Unstable (but improving marginally)
Vein resonance threshold: 1%
Stability Index: 12%
Hint: Repeat sequence until Stability Index exceeds 50% to advance resonance
Additional note: You didn't die. Progress.
[collapse]
Tharia snorted, her tail flicking. "One percent. Glorious. At this rate I'll open my first vein by the time I'm eighty."
[Projection: plausible.]
"You're terrible."
She rolled her eyes. Looked at the numbers again anyway.
Lanterns glowed faintly along the lodging cliff as she descended, voices carrying from the stone caves: one outer disciple groaning about sore legs, another laughing over the three-person collision, a pair whispering envious praise about Kaela's movements.
The caves felt alive with fatigue and ambition in equal measure.
Tharia slipped past them all with a grin that betrayed none of her exhaustion. She waved at a few familiar faces. Ignored the weird looks from others who'd probably heard about this morning's wardrobe incident.
Inside her quarters, she collapsed onto the bedding with a long exhale.
Her body ached. Her mind refused to rest, the scroll's diagrams replayed behind her eyes, each line of instruction threaded with the System's snarky programming.
She stretched her tail across the blanket and stared at the ceiling she'd decorated with illusory stars.
"Tomorrow. Thirty breaths. Two percent."
The stars held steady above her.
She was asleep before the third one flickered.
System Status:
Host: Tharia | Age: 18
Status: Healthy
[TECHNIQUE ANALYSIS]
Illusion Proficiency: 33%
Chaos Stability: Fragile (Holding).
Qi Circulation: Vein resonance threshold - 1%.
Achievement: 'Style Over Substance'
Traits: 'The Reluctant Royal' (Passive).
Passive Techniques: 'Shame-Guard' (Passive)
Module: 'Path of the Unseen'
Active Techniques: Illusory Raiment (Rank: E)
Chaos Essence: 45.
Status: Duskwind Sect.
Active Quests: None.
[collapse]