Chương 19: Four Months

Joe's life gradually settled into a routine. He woke before sunrise, ate whatever small amount was available at home and walked to the Talent Hall with Simon. They usually spent the first part of the journey together, although Simon did most of the talking. Some mornings he complained about the cold. Other mornings he discussed whoever had performed well in the dynamic group the previous day, usually with enough detail that Joe knew more about the argument than the actual training.

Once they entered the Hall, however, they separated. Simon went toward the dynamic training area. Joe joined the static group. During the first month, his training still looked exactly like what it was: beginner training. He remembered every correction Hall gave him, but remembering did not strengthen muscles that had never held those positions before. His legs shook, his breathing lost rhythm under fatigue and his hips drifted even when Joe knew perfectly well where they were supposed to be.

Sometimes the problem was not knowledge at all. He knew what the correct position should feel like and still could not force an exhausted muscle to maintain it. A month of training changed him, though not dramatically. His legs became stronger, his balance improved and maintaining the required breathing rhythm became less difficult. He could hold the stances longer before fatigue began pulling them apart, and the assistants no longer had to repeat every basic correction each day.

Mike's medicinal paste lasted through several of those early weeks. By the second month, it was gone. Training continued without it. The difference was noticeable. Difficult training days felt slightly heavier without medicinal support, and sometimes Joe needed considerably more food before his body felt completely recovered. By then, he could enter all six static positions without constantly checking another student for reference.

His movements were still deliberate rather than instinctive, and Hall continued correcting him, but those corrections had become less frequent and increasingly detailed. The harder problem remained blood energy. During the first month, Joe sensed nothing he trusted. There was heat in his legs, pressure in tired muscles and a stronger heartbeat after holding a stance, but all of those things existed in ordinary exercise. He had no intention of calling them blood energy simply because he wanted progress.

During the second month, however, something began changing. After his breathing settled and he maintained a position correctly for long enough, Joe occasionally noticed a faint warmth that seemed different from ordinary exertion. The sensation was inconsistent. Sometimes it appeared. Sometimes it did not. Joe refused to name it yet. By the third month, the sensation became easier to reproduce. It appeared most clearly when both posture and breathing were correct.

If his stance deteriorated badly, the feeling weakened or disappeared. At times it felt less like heat and more like a faint pressure or fullness beneath the skin. That was enough for Joe to finally ask one of the senior assistants. He described the sensation as carefully as he could instead of simply asking whether he had sensed blood energy. The older trainee listened.

"You're probably beginning to feel it." Joe looked at him.

"Probably?" The trainee smiled.

"When you really sense it clearly, you won't need me to tell you." That answer was irritatingly reasonable. Hall gave him almost the same response later.

"Don't rush to name every sensation. Clarity comes with practice." So Joe practiced. By the fourth month, the difference between his first week and his current ability was obvious. He could hold the stances longer, his breathing remained stable through a greater portion of the exercise and his posture deteriorated much later under fatigue. The senior assistants no longer stopped beside him every few minutes. None of that made him advanced. He had not reached minor success.

He was nowhere near being allowed into the dynamic foundation. Joe was simply a beginner who had progressed unusually well during his first four months. Only then did he begin making cautious comparisons. Simon had taken roughly three years to complete the static foundation. Most ordinary village students seemed to fall somewhere around the same range, while trainees with better resources often progressed faster. Joe heard of several who had completed the static stage in a little more than two years.

Exceptional children with strong family support had apparently done better than that, although the stories became less reliable the more impressive they sounded. Joe considered his own position. This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. He had entered the Hall physically prepared and spent the first several weeks with medicinal support Simon had never possessed during his own first year. His talents gave him advantages as well.

Two years for the static foundation seemed comfortably possible if nothing unusual happened. A year and a half might be achievable. Joe did not assume anything faster. Early improvements in posture did not guarantee equally fast progress in sensing blood energy, and the medicine that had supported his first several weeks was already gone. His rate of improvement might slow considerably later. Joe preferred useful estimates over flattering ones. Still, compared with Simon's first months, he was clearly ahead.

The Hall provided other useful comparisons as well. Among the older trainees, Alex stood out. He was fifteen and one of the village elder's grandsons, which also made him a younger relative of Theodere. His family was among the wealthiest in Green Hollow, and unlike Simon, Alex had received good food and medicinal support throughout most of his training. He had reached Late Skin Tempering. That placed him well above most trainees his age.

A girl from another village and a boy from another settlement had both reached Middle Skin Tempering, while four additional trainees were in the Initial stage. Seven body-tempering trainees in total. Those seven received noticeably more respect than everyone else. Even Simon became somewhat quieter around them. Not silent. Joe doubted anything short of unconsciousness would accomplish that. But quieter. Most of those seven also had better resources than the average village child.

Only two came from ordinary village households without significant family support, and both had entered Skin Tempering later than the wealthier trainees. The progression timeline explained why. An ordinary child entered at seven. Static foundation might take around three years. Dynamic foundation generally required another two to two and a half. That meant many village trainees did not begin Skin Tempering until around twelve.

Once an average trainee finally reached Skin Tempering, only around four years remained before the Hall stopped supporting them at sixteen. A student who progressed through the foundations faster gained years at the body-tempering stages. Sixteen was the ordinary deadline, but promising trainees did not necessarily wait that long before seeking opportunities in Blackwood. A strong student could apparently request an assessment from around fourteen onward. Alex was expected to test early.

Rumors around the Hall went further. Some students believed he might be taken directly as a squire under Blackwood's Guard Captain rather than entering as an ordinary guard. Theodere was supposedly friendly with the captain. Joe treated that part cautiously.

"Friendly" in village gossip could mean anything from childhood friendship to having shared a drink twice over ten years. The town guard offered much more than wages. A position in Blackwood meant access to the town itself, further martial instruction, food, resources, status and connections that ordinary farming children could never develop while remaining in Green Hollow. For a village trainee, selection could change the entire course of adulthood.

During those same months, Joe also learned the truth about the squat building Simon had once called equipment storage. Simon had not exactly been wrong. Equipment was stored in the front. The rear portion was mostly a library. Access was restricted. The books inside covered martial theory, anatomy, medicinal herbs and written inheritance extending through Muscle Tempering. Joe learned that from one of the older students after seeing Hall unlock the inner room.

"Can anyone use it?" Joe asked. The trainee laughed.

"Not you."

"I assumed that."

"Then why ask?"

"To learn when." The older boy considered him for a moment.

"Usually after minor success in both foundations. Hall has to approve it." Joe added the library to his future plans. There was no reason to obsess over it yet. For now, his entire martial world consisted of six static stances, their six breathing patterns and a faint sensation he was not yet willing to call fully controlled blood energy. That was enough. His daily schedule remained simple. Training began early. Breakfast came around ten.

Then more training until lunch at roughly two, followed by additional practice until sometime after three. Simon joined him during meals whenever their schedules aligned. On Saturdays, Simon received one meal from the medicinal canteen because of his literacy work. For the first few weeks, Joe heard about every one.

"The meat today was actually soft," Simon said one Saturday while they walked home.

"Not like the free canteen where you have to chew long enough to reconsider whether you're hungry. The broth was better too. You can feel the warmth all the way down after you drink it."

"You said that last week."

"It was a different broth."

"Was it?" Simon hesitated.

"The meat was definitely different." By the fourth week, even Simon began running out of new descriptions. Joe was grateful. Weeks became months, and training gradually stopped feeling unusual. So did exhaustion. Joe finally understood why Simon had become less useful in the fields after entering the Hall. By the time they returned home after three in the afternoon, both boys were tired enough that ordinary chores felt considerably less attractive than they had in the morning. Simon usually rested first.

Joe continued checking his fish traps whenever time and weather allowed. Fishing had started years earlier as entertainment, curiosity and a way to bring something extra home. Now the nutritional value was even more important. The Hall provided two meals each day, but training increased both boys' appetites dramatically. Their household produced enough grain and vegetables, while beans were common enough. Eggs, fish and meat were harder to provide consistently. A few additional fish were useful.

Lily never complained when Joe came home carrying them. She complained about the mud. She complained about the smell. She complained if he returned later than expected. The fish themselves were welcome. One evening Joe came home with three small but usable fish and found Simon sitting near the hearth with his legs stretched out. Lily took the fish from Joe and examined them.

"You're cleaning these."

"I know."

"And outside."

"I know."

"Last time you left scales near the water jar."

"That was Simon." Simon looked over.

"It was not." Joe stared at him. Simon stared back. Lily interrupted before the argument could develop.

"I don't care who did it. If I find scales there again, both of you clean the whole floor." Simon immediately returned to resting. Joe took the fish outside. Mike came around the side of the house while Joe was cleaning the second one.

"You caught those today?"

"Yes." Mike crouched briefly and looked at them.

"Good." He glanced toward the house, where Simon could be heard complaining to Mary about something.

"Catch more if you can. That boy eats like the pig now." From inside came Simon's voice.

"I heard that!" Mike grinned. Joe did too. That sounded more like his father than some carefully worded observation about nutrition. Mike understood that both sons were hungry all the time and fish were free if Joe caught them. That was enough. Over those four months, Joe's understanding of Talent Hall gradually changed. Before entering, martial training had been something mysterious that Simon disappeared every morning. Now the broad structure made sense.

Joe understood where money was necessary, why the age limit and how few students reached body tempering before their time at the Hall ended. He understood why access to the library was restricted and why Blackwood occupied so much of the older trainees' attention. There were still enormous gaps. Joe knew almost nothing about true martial artists. He did not know what came after Internal Organ Tempering.

He had no idea whether Theodere's comments about longer life and immortality were truth, exaggeration or some mixture of both. Spiritual calligraphy remained almost entirely mysterious. The inheritance contract was even worse. Knowing more had mostly shown Joe how much remained unknown. That was still progress. Deepwinter gradually settled over Green Hollow. Cold winds moved through the valley, frost remained on shaded ground well into the morning and the river became less pleasant to visit.

One evening, after returning from the Hall, Joe went behind the house and found the tree he had used for years to keep track of time. Joseph had eventually stopped complaining about the marks. Possibly because he had forgotten the original argument. Joe counted them. Then counted again. His eighth birthday should arrive sometime during the following week. He remained beside the tree for a while. Four months had passed since he entered the Talent Hall. His martial progress was good, but he remained at the beginning.

There were too many directions he might eventually take, and trying to plan all of them now seemed premature. Only a week remained until his birthday. Joe had no idea whether anything would happen. For now, he would continue training. Then he would turn eight. After that, he could decide what came next.