The bell rang three times. Short gaps. Work paused. Training started.
Status: Vitality low–stable. Hip wound closed, ache on twist. Ribs tender.Qi: trace steady; flow length +1 finger from dawn drill.Goal: learn sect forms; apply Pattern quietly; avoid show.
Outer Disciples formed rows on the hard dirt between the hall and the south fence. The ground had been tamped flat over years. Cracks in the dirt made a faint star under the dust if you looked too long.
Wardens set racks out: wooden cudgels, short staves, two old spears blunted with leather. Hara scar on chin stood in front with another warden, a broad woman with a broken nose. She carried a long switch.
Hara spoke. "Body Refinement has three ladders here. First ladder: Muscle Step. You break and rebuild. Stance, strike, guard. Second ladder: Tendon Step. You link joints, stop wasting motion. Third ladder: Organ Step. You toughen what you can't see—breath and blood. We don't have pills. We don't have stones. You get breath and pain."
Broken-nose warden cracked the switch in the air. "Eyes on. Feet right."
Elder Kase stood in the shade of the porch, staff planted, watching without talking.
Jorin Vale stepped into the front row with field guards, hair neat, robe clean, spear across his shoulders like a banner. He didn't look at AION. His lackeys did.
Pell slid beside AION, cudgel tight under his arm. "If you fall, fall away from the switch," he muttered.
"Confirmed," AION said.
Hara drew a square in the dirt with his heel. "Root sits here. Left foot points at the enemy. Right foot sixty degrees. Weight sixty–forty. Knees unlocked. Hips heavy."
He walked the line. "Hands. Not fists yet. Open. See your fingers."
AION copied. He made micro-adjustments until weight spread even without wobble. Hip tilt −2°. Shoulders down 1 cm. Jaw loose. Tongue set.
Note: stance efficiency +7% by balance test.Cost: calf ache +2. Hip tolerable.
Broken-nose stepped behind Mira and jabbed the switch at her knee. "Bend. Don't lock. Locked knees snap."
She moved. The warden lifted Pell's elbow with the stick. "Close your ribs. You're a door, not a sail."
She stopped behind AION. She didn't touch him. She stood one breath, then moved on.
Pell whispered, "Show-off."
AION didn't answer.
Hara raised a hand. "Breath sets the body. We use Thistle Breath—simple. Four in, four hold, six out. If you can't count, copy the drum." A boy with a frame drum stepped forward.
Boom.....boom...boom....boom. Hold. Boom....boom....boom.....boom....boom....boom. Repeat.
AION matched, then shaved a hair off the hold every third cycle.
Method: micro-desync to keep Circle habits hidden.Result: Qi trace pools below navel without pressure spike.
Riven stirred. You don't need to be clever every breath.
"Habits save effort," AION said in his head.
Hara watched chests rise and fall. "If you breathe in your shoulders, I make you carry buckets until your arms fall off. In the fields you breathe like this. In a fight you breathe shorter. Later."
Broken-nose took the center. "We teach five strikes and three guards. Don't invent your own until you can do these in sleep."
She demonstrated. "One: straight palm. Two: low cut. Three: hook. Four: elbow. Five: knee. Guards A, B, C. A blocks high, B mid, C low. Don't meet force with force. Change angle."
Pairs formed. AION faced Pell.
"Slow," Pell said.
"Slow," AION agreed.
They worked drill 1–2–3. Pell's straight palm left his shoulder behind. AION touched the shoulder with two fingers. "Move this first."
Pell tried again. Better. AION let him hit: chest touch, then shoulder tap. No ego, just count.
Across the line, Jorin worked with his lackey at full speed. He liked mixing strike three (hook) into knee five. Clean and heavy. He wanted eyes on him. He got them.
Broken-nose walked, switch ready. She popped wrists when they flared, shoulders when they rose, ribs when they opened too wide. She stopped by AION and Pell again and watched three exchanges.
She looked at AION. "You teach with two fingers?"
"He corrects me faster than shouting," Pell said before AION spoke.
"Hn," she said, non-committal, and moved on.
Observation: correction by touch anchors motion for Pell.Action: repeat cue with number "three" to lock memory.
AION tapped Pell's wrist twice, then ribs once. "Three."
Pell smiled. "Three."
Hara clapped. "String them. One–A. Two–B. Three–C. Slow first. Then half speed."
AION and Pell moved. Strike one guard A. Strike two guard B. Strike three guard C. Repeat.
AION shaved waste. No big swings. Elbows close. Feet drift less than a palm between changes. Breath set the beat, not speed.
Efficiency: wasted motion −18% after five cycles.Cost: mild forearm burn; hip steady.
Pell blew out air. "You cut corners."
"I cut waste," AION said.
"Feels easier."
"Correct."
Hara called, "Pair swap!"
AION turned to find Mira facing him now, staff level. "Don't break me," she said.
"Noted."
Staff vs. cudgel changed lines. AION shortened steps, closed fast on every second beat to deny reach, then slid off line instead of backpedal.
Mira laughed once. "You're annoying."
"You're tall," AION said.
She hooked low with the staff. He checked with C-guard, felt the lever, and didn't fight it. He stepped with it and turned. Her staff slid past. He had a line to ribs. He didn't take it. Drill, not win.
She nodded, appreciative. "You see corners other people don't."
"Pattern," AION said.
"Right," she said. "Your weird word."
An hour burned. Sweat dampened robes. The ground's dust turned to paste under feet.
Broken-nose snapped the switch. "Water. Sit. Stretch hips or you curse me later."
Pell collapsed beside AION. "I hate her," he said, then added, "In a respectful, deeply grateful way."
AION stretched hip flexors slow. Don't tear the healing. Breath even.
Jorin sauntered past with his spear and stopped just inside earshot. "Anomaly."
AION looked up. "Vale."
Jorin rolled the spear in his hands, easy. "You made faces in the Den yesterday."
"I cut a fish," AION said.
"You splashed," Jorin said. He smiled for the bystanders. "Remember that when the ground is dry."
He moved off without waiting for an answer. His lackeys stood a beat too long, then followed.
Pell muttered, "He's going to push you in front of everyone."
"Later," AION said.
Hara raised his hand. "Circle tests only breath. Today I test form. Four at a time. Others watch and learn." He pointed. "You, you, you, and you."
Two boys, a girl, and Reed stepped into the box he drew with his heel.
"Stance," Hara said.
They set. He checked feet with a stick. He walked around them once. "Strike one." Palms shot out. "Guard B." Arms crossed. "Strike two." Low cuts. "Guard C." Hips dropped.
Reed's knee wobbled. Hara tapped it. "Don't collapse. You break yourself before the enemy touches you."
He rotated through groups. "Next four." Finally, "You and you," pointing at AION and Pell. "Plus you two," pointing at Mira and Jorin.
Pell went pale. Mira's mouth pulled sideways. Jorin's grin got small and sharp. The yard's noise shifted to that quiet that isn't silence.
They stepped into the square.
"Stance," Hara said.
They set.
"Strike one."
AION and Pell moved clean. Mira, crisp. Jorin, sharp.
"Guard A."
Arms rose.
"Strike two."
Low cuts.
"Guard C."
Hips down.
"Strike three."
Hook.
Jorin's hook would have cracked a jaw if it were not drill. He put weight through the ground. Good. He wanted everyone to see it.
"Pair across," Hara said. "Exchange three beats. Stop on my hand."
Jorin looked at AION across the square and his smile changed from public to personal.
"Begin," Hara said.
Jorin came in fast, not full respecting the line but quick enough to blur. He mixed hook into knee like he liked. AION stepped into the angle, deflected forearm with forearm, let the knee pass by hip instead of meeting it.
Second beat. Jorin cut low. AION let the blade of the cudgel meet the line at 45°, not 90°, rolling force. Third beat. Jorin jerked his elbow toward AION's nose, sharp and mean. AION lifted guard A, elbow covering eyebrow, forearm catching elbow on bone. It stung.
"Stop," Hara said.
They froze.
Hara's eyes flicked. He had seen the jerk.
"Again," Hara said. "Half speed. Clean."
Jorin did half speed. Clean. His face said the first set didn't count.
"Switch," Hara said. "You two," he pointed at AION and Mira. "Three beats."
Mira advanced with the staff. AION closed the first distance in half and killed reach. She laughed, then used knee instead of staff on beat three. AION checked and slid away.
"Stop," Hara said. He pointed at Pell and Jorin. "Three beats."
Pell swallowed and lifted his cudgel. Jorin smiled for the crowd again. First beat he moved slow enough for Pell to see. Second beat he was faster. Third beat he feinted low and tapped Pell's cheek with two fingers instead of the cudgel. "Careful," he said, tone sweet.
"Enough," Hara said, flat.
They stepped out.
Log: Jorin uses feints to mark status without violating order.Risk: public escalation soon.Action: deny theatre; accept drills; save counters for when witnesses matter most.
Break again. Clouds pulled thin. Heat left shadows.
AION crouched and brushed dust at the edge of the yard with the back of his hand. The cracked star he'd seen earlier wasn't random. It was five lines meeting, one chipped. Same cadence as the Den wall. Same as the latrine slab.
He didn't trace it. He looked and then covered it again.
Riven's sigh moved slow. You find patterns like a dog finds bones.
"Bones feed dogs," AION said.
"Boy," Elder Kase's voice came from the shade.
AION stood and faced him. "Elder."
Kase's good eye flicked to the ground and back. He didn't ask what AION had seen. "After drills," he said, "you and Pell take the north spring path with Varn. Learn the land without getting clever. 'Clever' makes graves in the Frontier."
"Understood," AION said.
Kase tapped his staff. "And if Vale tries a show, do not give him his stage."
"Understood."
Kase moved away, staff ticking stone, the aide trailing.
Broken-nose barked, "Ten lines. Down and back. Then planks. Then wall sits. If you fall, you start again."
Groans. Movement.
AION ran easy, small steps, minimal bounce. Hip warmed, not hot. Ribs pulled on inhale. He kept 3–3–5 cadence for run. Qi trace didn't like jolts. It tolerated them if the count held.
Pell labored. AION ran next to him and matched pace. "Shorter steps," he said. "Land under your center."
Pell adjusted. "Better," he gasped.
Wall sits: back to the hall wall, knees at right angles, hands on thighs, not pushing.
Broken-nose walked the line. "Breathe low, not in your neck. You shake, you keep the shape."
AION set the shape and rode the burn. He didn't hunt pain. He logged it and left it alone.
Planks: elbows down, body straight. Mira swore under breath and held. Reed shook and grinned anyway. Jorin didn't shake. His face said the ground should thank him.
Hara said, "Enough. Stretch. No one wants to carry you to latrines."
After training, Varn the Inner Disciple led AION and Pell north under the ridge shadow. The path cut through scrub into a fold where water seeped from rock into a shallow pool lined with iron stain.
Varn crouched. "Spring runs slow in dry months. Don't trample the lip. We pull from here only when the south river is mud."
Pell stared into the pool. "Tastes like nails."
"Better nails than thirst," Varn said. He pointed at the rock face above the spring. "See these?" Shallow divots spaced like finger cups. "Climb holds. Not natural. Carved before my grandfather."
AION measured the spacing. Human hand reach for a taller person. The line led upward to a shelf hidden by brush.
"Up," Varn said. "Careful."
They climbed. The shelf held a flat square of stone blackened by old fires. Someone had once used it for ritual or cooking. Hard to tell. What mattered to AION was the border: a groove cut all around. Cross, triangle, short line. Chipped on one corner.
Pell ran a fingertip over the groove and snatched it back. "Stings."
"Don't touch," Varn snapped. "I said careful."
AION stepped back and breathed. He did not pull Pattern. He watched how the spring's damp air moved along the groove, how dust collected not at random but at edges where the groove turned.
Observation: faint environmental flow respects the cut line.Hypothesis: old array bound micro-flow; degraded but present.Action: memorize; do not engage.
Varn pulled them away. "Enough history. Your Elder lets me show you because you passed without dying. Don't make him regret it."
"Understood," AION said.
They climbed down. On the way back, Varn asked, "You fought Vale?"
"In drills," AION said.
"Don't try and win in the yard," Varn said. "Win where he doesn't pick the audience. He eats applause."
"Confirmed," AION said.
Varn threw him a look. "You talk strange."
"Yes," AION said.
Back in the yard, Hara dismissed most crews. "You four," he said, AION, Pell, Mira, Reed "stay. Ten minutes on guard C. Hips burn now, hips won't betray you later."
They worked until quads shook. Pell growled with his teeth closed. Mira breathed out curses in a steady stream. Reed laughed like breathing hurt less when it sounded like joy.
Hara stopped them with a hand. "Good enough," he said. He looked at AION last. "You don't hide pain like a hero. Good. Heroes die fast here. You hide just enough."
"Understood," AION said.
"Don't make me regret saying that," Hara said, and left.
The yard was almost empty. Shadows stretched. Jorin stepped onto the hard dirt with a short staff and tapped one end twice.
"AION," he said. Clear, not loud. The way men speak when the ground is their stage whether anyone watches or not.
Pell moved to stand with AION. Jorin's lackeys spread a little to the side, not close enough to be accused of crowding, close enough to move if it turned.
AION kept his cudgel low. "Training day is done."
"Then no rules," Jorin said, voice pleasant.
Elder Kase's staff hit stone once from the porch. "Rules don't sleep," he said without raising his voice. His good eye watched, amused and ready.
Jorin's smile didn't change. "A friendly measure then." He pointed the staff at AION's hip. "You're injured. I'll aim high."
"Generous," AION said.
They squared ten paces apart. Not a duel. Not sanctioned. A yard test: first clean touch to the chest or head.
"Begin," Jorin said, not waiting for Hara.
He advanced at half speed, reading. AION gave him something to read: guard A too high by a finger. Jorin aimed under it. AION dropped the guard that finger and let the staff slide on wood to dead space.
Second beat, Jorin feinted low. AION didn't bite. He stepped with the feint, not against it, and cut the line.
Third beat, Jorin snapped a real shot to the temple. AION raised C into A fast, elbow covering brow. The hit jarred bone. He didn't chase the counter. He let the angle die.
Four beats. Five. Jorin increased speed. AION did not match speed. He cut movement size. He kept each block a finger inside the last. Breath 3–3–5. Hip pain present, unremarked.
Jorin frowned a fraction. The crowd that wasn't a crowd leaned invisible inches closer.
He changed tactic. He tossed a bit of dirt with his toe at AION's eyes, fast and petty. AION blinked on purpose half a beat early, not on the dirt, but on the step before, giving Jorin the wrong cue. Jorin's strike came for the blink space. AION wasn't there. He tapped Jorin's breastbone with the cudgel butt, light, undeniable.
"Touch," AION said.
Silence. Then Reed whooped once and smothered it. Pell bit his lip to keep sound in. Mira's eyebrows climbed.
Jorin's smile went thin. Not rage. Decision.
He lifted his staff, then lowered it. "Good," he said. He turned away. "Tomorrow."
"Later," AION said.
Elder Kase's staff ticked once in the shade, like punctuation.
Log: status push deflected without spectacle; no gloat; rival escalates timing "tomorrow."
Supper: thin stew and a crust, swallowed too fast. The yard emptied into sheds. The moon cut a pale line over the ridge. The shrine stone on the heights pulsed once like a thought.
AION sat on straw with the cudgel across his thighs. He reviewed the day: stance, breath, guards, old grooves, spring shelf, Jorin's measure. He ran the breath until the Qi trace slid to the same points as the latrine slab cut, then stopped.
Progress: stance efficiency +7; guard C stability +10 (test hold 45s → 60s).Qi: flow stable at two palm widths; blockages unchanged.Pattern: recognition rising; active use avoided.
Riven's voice was quiet. When I first trained, I copied whoever looked biggest. You copy the ground.
"The ground doesn't lie," AION said.
"Sometimes it drops," Riven said. "Don't forget."
Pell's whisper drifted from the next pallet. "You beat him."
"I touched him," AION said.
"Same thing," Pell said, drifting into sleep.
AION lay back and watched the dark. He set the next steps:
Map more old lines under the yard without touching.
Ask Varn for more "history" by not asking about it.
Keep Jorin hungry and public without giving him meat.
Find work that pays flow—water, spring, stone.
Test Thistle Breath under load; see if the Pattern cadence carries into strike speed without glow.
He closed his eye and counted until the numbers turned into the sound of the bell he would use in his head tomorrow.
Outside the fence, night insects changed their song twice. On the south ridge, the thumbnail seam opened the width of a fingernail and stayed there a long time before deciding to close.