Tristan's Tale Pt. 06

I felt the weight of the wind as it spoke, and I was almost awed to silence. If not by its manner of speech, then by the fact that I completely agreed with what it was saying.

"You're right," I said, trying to be placating. "We don't see the bigger picture. I'm actually kind of trying to change that. I'm new, but-"

The Jhinn cut me off with a sharp gesture. "You do not feel the span of your life. You do not know that you are but a breath of the world. If you did, you would spend your time differently." Its arm whisked around within invisible confines like an angry cloud, ending in blurry fingers.

It flew away. Not high, but laterally toward the rest of the Jhinn. Many of them had been watching in stoic silence, though their bodies were moving restlessly the whole time. The Jhinn didn't seem to ever stay still.

I felt the rebuke. I felt it even more when all the Jhinn followed the one I'd spoken to. Every hue of blue or black or white left, leaving me alone for fifty feet on all sides of me.

I sighed. So much for meeting the other peoples. I couldn't imagine the Droll being any more animated or enthusiastic to meet me. I sat down, and watched the match. It was a new pair now. Both familiar to me, but I didn't have names for either. Like I said, I didn't spend much time with the Clay shapers. Only a couple classes. I could, however, make out the Talon pin on the guy. He was beating his opponent, who sported a Tower pin, so I silently cheered for him as I brooded, alone.

"Tristan?"

I nearly shot out of my skin. The voice had been a rustle of leaves.

A goddamn bush had just said my name.

I spun, and found a Jhinn behind me. This one was colored a faint pastel blue, swirling within the confines of a brighter, sky-blue sun hat. It floated forward, and its long blue tunic creased as it sat next to me. It was very close, and I could feel a faint and pleasant breeze from below the robes.

"I heard you say your name when you were speaking to the Eye." It bowed its head. "Call me Erë."

I felt vaguely at a loss, because for some reason the sound of wind blowing through the trees was coming across way more friendly than the sound of wind against your clothes. I just kind of looked at it dumbly for a moment.

"How are you making words out of that?" I asked. Then, I hurriedly said, "Sorry, I didn't mean to offend, I-"

"Not at all, friend," said Erë easily. "The commander has been storming since I knew him. Don't take it personally."

"Leaves," I said. "Literally rustling in my ear. That's what you sound like to me."

"You sound like a bird that's been hit in the head by a rock."

We both stared at each other for a moment before erupting into laughter. I managed not to be surprised when the sound of a Jhinn laughing turned out like someone shaking a tree branch. It was just like the inhale and exhale of a person. But, you know. Leaves.

"Jesus," I said, wiping a tear of from my eye. "Do we really?"

"And yet, we speak," it said, spreading its arms. I noticed this one was of exactly the same proportions as the first.

"True." I couldn't help but feel self-conscious, though, that this one was the only one that had come to speak with me. "Why'd you come over? I wouldn't want you getting in trouble with Mr. Stick-Up-His-Ass."

"What?" The winds swirled confusedly. "Why does the commander have a stick in his ass?"

"Oh, God," I mumbled, "this is going to be impossible."

"Was that a. . ." it struggled for a moment. "A saying?"

"A figure of speech? Yeah. It means that someone is being too serious."

"Okay." Erë seemed to mull this over for a moment. "Perhaps it is a good thing, having a stick in ones ass."

I tried not to laugh. I swear.

"What's so funny?" asked Erë.

"Nothing." I composed myself. "I'm enjoying these translation issues."

"It's a nice break from the usual understanding," agreed Erë.

"But seriously. Aren't you sacrificing political clout, or something? Won't you get in trouble for talking to me?"

He managed to give me a weird look by contorting the winds beneath his hat into a strange shape. It's hard to explain—you ever look at clouds and find the shapes they make? A bit like that, but instead of the cloud being the shape, imagine you can see the cloud in high definition. Super detailed, lots of contrasting light to bring out all the angles and shapes. Instead of finding the cloud as an animal, find the animal inside the cloud. In the details of it.

Erë could do it on purpose. I could only get the vaguest of impressions from it, though, and it was all guesswork. I said it had swirled confusedly, but that was just the impression I got from it. Maybe I was right, maybe I wasn't.

"What trouble would the commander get me in? Who cares what we think of each other? We are not such fickle winds."

We ended up talking for the rest of the first round of Clay shaping. I learned a bit about the Jhinn, he learned a bit about humans. For instance, I discovered that the Jhinn didn't have genders, but they had something different. Something it was forbidden from explaining to me. I'd pushed a little, but didn't want to overstep my bounds. Erë remained tight-lipped (less windy? Gustless?) about the kinds of Jhinn.

I asked if it knew what "he" and "she" meant. It did, and it thought it was rather funny that we held two opposites at either end and didn't see the spectrum between. I wondered if that thought was inspired from Caer'Aton or from Jhinn culture.

I asked if it minded if I called it by he or she, and it said it didn't matter in the slightest. Did it have a preference? No, I was invited to "choose my lunacy as I saw fit". I don't know if you've ever listened to the wind brush through the trees and try to assign a gender to it, but let me tell you, it's twice as difficult as it sounds.

It probably didn't matter in the long run. But I just had such a hard time calling this thing an "it". "It's" weren't talking, conscious people. "It's" were rocks and dirt and chairs. Objects.

That's the short, strange story of how Erë became, to my mind, a boy. And how he became my friend.

For his part, Erë was fascinated by petty drama. He couldn't imagine why anyone would bother. It was hysterical to him that we had divided ourselves into Clans. We watched the rest of the Clay shaping contest. When Jade went up, he went quiet for a moment.

She'd changed her clothing. The simple gray and white was now an elaborate garment of rich, vibrant color. She'd made it herself, and knowing it wouldn't be worn in combat had given her the freedom to make it something truly beautiful. Everybody would know she had made it herself out of Clay, because we all had access to the same wardrobe. There was nothing in there like what Jade was wearing.

"This one's incredible," he finally said.

"Yeah," I said.

Something must have crept into my voice, because he let out a rustling laugh. "Don't tell me. You love her."

"What?" I asked, taken aback. The match began, and the table flooded with orange. The opponent's color was a blue not quite like mine. Jade gave ground, let the blue advance, and snuck around the edges until it was trapped within. I swallowed. Yeah, no metaphor there. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Listen, Tristan. The Jhinn know voice. And your voice sounds like you want to roll in the mud with last year's champion."

I blushed hotly. "That's not—no! What would you know about human voices, anyway? You only see us once a year."

"Not true. I've met humans before."

"So what do you mean, then? What makes you a voice expert? The wind doesn't have a voice."

He swirled in a way that I assumed signified amusement. "Of course not. This is why you hear leaves. Fluttering clothes. The cracks in mountain crags that let us whistle. The wind is silent, but when we dance with something else, we make our own music."

"And your own poetry too, seems like."

The wind gusted within the blue clothes. "Pah. Writing? No thank you. Spare me your insanities. Your rolling in the mud, your voices that betray what goes on inside."

I'd hoped he'd forgotten about that one. I looked down at the stage. Jade had defeated her opponent easily, and was walking off the stage.

"And your eyes, too," said Erë.

"Whatever," I said. Love. What a dumb word. I had absolutely no idea what it meant. I watched Jade from afar. She glanced up at me, and I gave her a thumbs-up. She waved, and we smiled at each other. It was almost inescapable. We were just sharing something that was so obvious and out in the open, but somehow it was so deeply personal that nobody else could touch it. Somehow, we were each other's secret, despite there being nothing to hide.

Was this love? How was I supposed to know?

I decided to change the subject. To hell with love. "Are you signed up for the Clay shaping?"

"No," he said. "We do not compete with Clay."

"Oh? Why don't they let you?"

"I misspeak," he said, and his voice seemed to be changing the leaves through which it was making sound. From leaves to needles, maybe? I tried to push the thought away. It was easier for me to make out the words when I wasn't paying too much attention to them. "Not that we aren't allowed. But there is no point for us. Clay is for children. For newcomers here." There was a pause. "We are not newcomers."

The way he said it, I knew there was more. It was a heavy wind that made those last words. "You can fly, right?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Why don't you," I gestured to the sky. "I don't know. Fly away?"

He looked up at the sky. "We think about it every day."

The first round wrapped up and left us with a few minutes of intermission before the next one. I didn't have anything better to do, so I asked Erë if he knew of anywhere we could train together. I needed the practice.

But more than that, I wanted to see what the Jhinn were like in combat.

"Also," I added, "a bathroom would be lovely."

He shuddered. "Ech. Yes, there are places for your leakage. I don't know where they are. Ask someone else. Afterward, meet me in one of the adjoining rooms between our sections. There are mats there." Without seeming like he was turning, he began to drift away. Then he stopped. "But only after you've cleaned yourself thoroughly."

I smiled as we split. The Jhinn were a peculiar bunch.

I found the bathrooms without a hitch. Part of me was a little scared to explore around on my own, though I couldn't exactly place why.

And the damndest thing happened. I was coming out of the bathroom when I saw it.

I didn't get a good look, but it was small and furry and colored the kind of deep purple the night would be if it had a little more aesthetic. It was a color that you had to double-take at.

And when I did, turning my head back at the space where it had been, all I saw was a slip of vanishing tail around a corner. When I followed it, curious, I found nothing.

I had half a thought about whether or not this was the creature responsible for André's death, but it didn't seem that important, so I hurried off to find Erë before the next round of shaping started.

~

He was waiting for me patiently in a secluded room much like the mats in Moleh. It was like one quadrant had been given its own room. He greeted me with a gusting sound.

"That was a greeting, wasn't it?" I asked, wanting to be sure.

"Yes," he said. "It's habit. I'm surprised you noticed. Usually there isn't much point doing anything of the sort with humans."

"Really? It seemed kind of obvious." I took a few steps into the room, and shifted into the fighting mindset.

It really is something you have to consciously do. Or, at least I did. I'm sure it happened automatically for Jet and Rinzai was probably always ready for a fight. But for me, fighting was still a different domain. I was suddenly anticipating danger. I wasn't in a fight for my life or anything, but you try getting punched half a million times by Derrik. See if you don't come out of it with a healthy respect for being hit.

So I settled into a fighting stance. I didn't whip my hands around, shouting "Crane Style!" I wasn't Jackie Chan, and this wasn't a movie.

It was me about to fight the wind. I didn't know what to expect, but I still had to get into the right frame of mind. I calmed myself. I bent my knees. I felt the ground beneath my feet, endless and rich and deep. I could almost hear its murmurs.

Erë made a long, sighing sound. "I see."

And then I brought out my Chi.

It was like the sharpness of a sudden breath of fresh air. It was like a snap of my fingers. It was my Chi—the tangible form of my Art. My mind control manifested into a sword sharp enough to cut a second into two equal halves.

Thank god I could take it out when I wanted.

It didn't used to be that way. I'd worked hard for this capability. To be honest, the sword was kind of ridiculous. I had to let it pick its own aesthetic, and it went with a freaking greatsword straight out of a video game.

The blade was huge, and it was made of soapy water. I know. Terrifying, isn't it?

It swirled within its razor edges, the water blue-green with a faint iridescent sheen that gave it its strange, soapy look. It looked impossible to hold with one hand—and even two hands would have a hard time swinging that thing with any kind of accuracy—but it was as light as a feather. Fighting with it was like swordplay with a blade of grass.

But, you know, a scary one.

I joke, but I could tell Erë was nervous by the sudden stillness in the swirls beneath his pale blue robes. I gave it a few experimental swings. It felt good in my hands. Right. Like the black-cloth grip had been made for me.

The only part I couldn't help but roll my eyes at was the pommel. An ember-orange gem circumscribed in an iron circle.

Yeah. Apparently even my Chi had a crush on Jade. Which made sense, since we were one and the same, but man, do I not want to go down that rabbit hole again.

Thankfully, I was spared from further thoughts by Erë's advance.

"Where's your Chi?" I asked.

The minute I closed my mouth, he took it out.

And I felt it happen. When you've got your Chi out, you're highly perceptive to all things. On top of that, you're very sensitive to all things related to the Art. Your mind is more calm, your thoughts more focused, your intent more readily accessible. I had no idea how it worked, and doubted I ever would.

But I felt it when he took out his quarterstaff. The mental discipline given to me by my Chi stopped me from being dumbfounded: it was made of pure air. It was invisible.

"How the hell?" I began to say.

But he was already coming at me. I couldn't see his weapon. I only had the feeling of it.

And on top of that, he was flying. By the way his wind was whirling I got the sense that he was highly amused.

I had to take a wild guess where the quarterstaff would strike. Safe bet that it would be from above, given his flight path. I lifted my sword in a defensive pose, and then the freaking air impacted suddenly against it as I blocked the blow with the flat of my sword.

Erë used the contact point as a fulcrum. It wouldn't have been possible if he'd, you know, weighed anything.

But he was made of the wind itself. He spun around me with a sound like the waving of a field of long, golden grass, and struck again.

He was fast. But so was I. I spun with him and deflected his attack.

I knew it wasn't the most ideal path for fighting, but I wanted to talk to him. "Your Chi is amazing," I said.

"And yours," he replied.

"Thanks." I took a quick step forward for a diagonal cut, but he wasn't there anymore. We took a few steps back, and circled each other. "How the hell am I supposed to know how you're going to strike if I can't see your weapon?" I asked, more amazed than frustrated.

Erë blinked.

No, no. Of course he didn't. But I don't know how else to describe what it looks like for a Jhinn to express a moment of surprise. "You weren't shown? Everyone else is."

"Are you kidding me?" I said. I don't know why I was surprised, but for some reason I still had it in me to be outraged at the information that had been kept from me since I got here.

"No," he said. "Why?"

I gave him a flat look. "Don't get me started on this one," I muttered.

"Tell, tell!" he exclaimed, swirling toward me, the fight forgotten.

Except of course it wasn't. I almost didn't think to catch the blow coming until it was too late, but I barely managed a pivot and swiped at the air. My Chi connected with something solid, and I deflected it away.

I mentally told myself to thank Sailor and Rodrigo for trying such cheap tricks on me when we'd trained. I should have seen it coming. Damn, but I was tired. Had I really fallen this much?

I finished the thought as I simultaneously finished parrying a series of quick jabs. Erë looked impressed. Then, I realized that I'd done it all unconsciously, and I mirrored his feelings.

Not fallen, I told myself. Just not used to fighting wind creatures that fought with air weapons. You can't blame me for not being quite on top of my game.

And why the hell hadn't anybody told me about the Jhinn weapons?

"Well," I said, "Things are different for me. I don't know why, but they don't tell me anything. I don't get the intro talks or the intro classes. None of my classes were explained to me. My purpose here is about as vague as it gets."

"Strange," he remarked tersely as he tried to focus on avoiding my sudden advance. I whipped my sword around, trying to find an opening, but it'd hard to find an opening in something when you can't see the walls it's supposed to be in.

"How do I find it?" I said, frustrated this time.

"Feel for it," he said.

"That's it?" I replied. "Use my feelings?"

He shifted uncertainly. "It's second nature for me. I'm not sure what to call it."

I thought back to the lockers earlier. To the first time I'd been in front of the wall of Clay. To the opening up I'd had to do in order to actually hold somebody's being in my mind—that had been ages ago.

But I still had the feel for it. I kept fighting, and tried to keep open, casting out my awareness like a net to try and snag on his Chi.

It was pretty much the opposite thing from fighting. Both required calm, but feeling out for a vibration or a feeling in the air in front of you is very different from contemplating the different ways to go about beating somebody into a nice, squishy pulp.

So as I struggled, I got smacked. Erë didn't seem to take any particular joy in it. I'd been used to people being excited at getting a hit in on me back in Moleh when I was training with Lotus. They were mostly trying to learn things from me (not that it didn't go both ways), and creeping past my guard had more or less been equivalent to winning.

But Erë didn't seem to care all that much. I was grateful. He let me keep my attention on trying to figure out where his quarterstaff was going to be next.

I was just starting to get the picture when the bell rang.

"Did you hear that?" asked Erë.

"Yeah." The bells didn't come from anywhere. They sounded within the rooms.

"Next round starting soon," he said.

We vanished our weapons. The room felt a little less bright. The air was a little less crisp, the foggy details of Erë's body were harder to discern. The longer I used my Chi, the more being without it felt like the fuzziness that comes after a few drinks. I chuckled at the thought of being a Chi-aholic.

We split and headed back for the stands. I didn't imagine I'd get a very good reception if I walked with Erë through the Jhinn section of the Arena, and we doubted he would get anything good either.

As I opened the door, something brushed past me into the room, quick as a fox. I yelped in surprise, and stumbled out the door awkwardly, only to find a thoroughly unimpressed Derrik looking down on me.