IABD 25: The Way of Stone

“The Way of Stone is all about force: creating force, channeling force, maximizing outgoing force, enduring and minimising incoming force. Sur Friya has trained you in the Way of Stone’s foundations—its stances, guards, strikes—but she doesn't know its higher forms. She does not know how it interacts with the energy of the body.” Beggahasta spun Tallis above her head, star metal blade gleaming in the morning sun. “Even before the giants married into the Stonebreaker bloodline, we were not small people and so we left the fancy pirouettes, ripostes, dodging and dances to other warriors. Our style focuses on our strengths: the power and toughness in our bodies, our strong wills and sharp minds. Now, you have a powerful energy burning within you.” 

Her blade whipped through the air with every flourish. “The true Way of Stone will teach you how to guide that energy in your body to survive impacts, to strike with power and redirect force. This lesson will also teach you…” 

She slashed Tallis down, the air roared with the force of her blow, then she pointed at his gauntlets with the tip of her sword. 

“…how to use those.” 

Matthias held up the gauntlets, flexing his fingers. “I’m more than ready, mother.” He grinned, an excitement bubbling in him that he hadn’t felt since he was a small boy. 

“You look ready.” She smiled. “You look just like Dagma did when I first started teaching her. Let’s see which one of you picks things up the quickest.”  

Mother and son faced each other on the banks of the Vein of the Mountain at the bottom of Blood’s Drop. After their earlier talk, they dropped Dagma off to train with Sur Friya, then Altaizar had transported them over the mountains to Blood’s Drop. 

The mage had returned to his tower, saying that he had an ‘urgent, unfinished task to attend to’, leaving Matthias and Beggahasta at the waterfall until evening came. 

His mother looked down at the gauntlets. “Have you had any practice channeling the energy in your body?” 

“Uh, Master Altaizar taught me life energy circulation and soul breathing,” he said. “That’s about it.” 

“Good, then you have a solid foundation. Life Energy circulation is a related art to channeling your energy. That will make this easier. Now, here’s my first question for you.” She planted her sword on the ground beside her, then pointed at it. “Matthias, can you tell me what is the difference between the magic in Tallis and those stone gauntlets?” 

He nodded. “Tallis’ magic lies in the sword itself: all part of the metal and dragon scales. It works, no matter who wields the blade or how they wield it, just like a knife would cut, no matter whose hand held the handle.” 

“Good, and how does that differ from your gauntlets?” Beggahasta asked. 

“The gauntlets have pathways for someone to pour their life force into.” Matthias flexed his gauntleted fingers. “While they have their own power—which makes them harder and stronger—using their real abilities requires one to channel their life force into the pathways to empower them.” 

“Good, very good.” She nodded. “What we will be doing today is teaching you how to channel your energy through your life force pathways and into those gauntlets. Learning that will also teach you how to move and concentrate your energy into different parts of your body, which is foundational for the Way of Stone. Sit down for me and focus your mind with your meditation techniques.” 

Matthias sat cross-legged in front of his mother, closing his eyes. He fell into meditative, slow breathing, allowing his mind to focus on his senses, his body and his surroundings. 

Soon all distractions passed away. 

His mind was at peace. “I’m ready.” 

“Almost.” Beggahasta circled him, watching him closely. “Could you do me a favour and bring out your tendril?” 

“Oh, sure,” he said, the tentacle emerging from his shadow. “Why?” 

“I’m going to guide your energy.” She knelt behind him. “And I need to do it carefully: the shadow-tendril is a part of you and I need to see how the energy flows through it.” 

“Wait, you’re going to guide my energy?” Matthias turned around. “Altaizar never did that.” 

She smirked. “Even the wise Master Altaizar doesn’t know everything in the world; only advanced Life Enforcement Practitioners can do such things.” Beggahasta pressed her hands to her son’s back. “When you’re ready to begin, try life energy circulation for me.” 

“Alright.” Matthia took a deep breath. 

He followed his tendril down to his soul, then forced it to beat, pumping the energy through his pathways. His mother stiffened a little. 

“What a strange feeling,” she murmured. “The way of circulating life energy works a little differently for Divine Breath users than it does for Life Enforcement users.” 

“Oh? Can you still help me?” he asked. 

She smiled. “Trust your mother. You might feel a little tingle.” 

Beggahasta took a deep breath, then Matthias felt his mother’s life energy pass through his gateways and into the life channels of his body. Its flow was tender, and its energy kind… 

…but was also unfathomably deep. 

As his mother’s power touched him, Matthias couldn’t help but quake: it felt like he’d brushed against a depthless ocean, quietly thrumming with untold power, ready to unleash its wrath in a tidal wave. 

Yet, for all of that promised power, its touch remained gentle, like a warm blanket, and it guided his power through his life pathways, directing the energy through his bones, blood vessels, nerves and musculature. 

It would pool in a different part of his body before moving on, thrumming with power. 

Beggahasta spoke in a soft voice. “Feel the energy concentrating in different parts of your body?” she asked. 

“Yes, I do,” he whispered. 

Where his energy concentrated it felt warmer, stronger, more solid. When the life energy pooled around his heart, its beat became slow, yet thunderous. When it pooled in his arms, his muscles tightened, swelling with strength while his bones hardened to warm stone. When it pooled in his shadow-tendril, the tentacle thickened and it pulsed with power. 

“It feels like…” he whispered. "...like the energy is reinforcing different parts of my body.” 

“Yes, that’s indeed what it’s doing,” she whispered. “Remember, you cannot keep your energy pooled in one place for too long: to do so would eventually bring great imbalances to your life force, just as if you were to train only one side of your body for your entire life.” 

“I’ve heard of someone who actually did that.” Matthias shuddered. “Sur Friya told me a story about an old warrior who did that for an experiment. Actually, the story wasn’t about the warrior, he was just helping the person the story was really about. Something about a ‘Lady in the Ocean’? Or ‘A Woman in Water?’ I can’t really remember the details. All I know is that the lesson was that: training only one side of your body was bad.” 

“Exactly, so just like you would only draw your sword when necessary, only channel your energy to specific parts of your body when you need it to be there. Direct your energy where you’d direct your force in a fight: strengthen your arms to empower a blow, harden your flesh and bone to endure a strike, empower your muscles and tendons to redirect the force of an incoming hit. Then, let it flow back into the rest of your body,” she continued. 

“Right, and if I keep my energy in one place, it’ll weaken the rest of my body, right? Which would make me vulnerable,” he said. 

She paused at that. “You’re clever, my son. That’s exactly right. An advanced technique in the Way of Stone is to learn how to harden the entire body at once while channeling extra energy to a specific part of it on top of that—leaving no weaknesses—but that will take years for you to learn. Today, we just need you to get used to guiding your energy and concentrating it in different parts of your body. Here, do you feel how the energy moves? Slowly take over from me. Let your life force flow like lava. Let it pool and harden like stone. Let it melt and flow again. You can lead the energy, Matt. It’s yours.” 

Matthias concentrated on his energy.  

In many ways, it was much easier than soul energy circulation: with the former, he had to make his soul beat like a heart to pass the energy through all of his pathways. This did not require passing his energy between body and soul for a full circulation: he could simply move the energy in his body around as needed. 

He took to his mother’s teaching much quicker than he would have without Altaizar’s training, continuing to move the energy from place to place in his body.  

“Good job,” Beggahasta complimented him. 

“Yeah, I’m getting the hang of it,” he said. “I think I’ll be able to do it myself soon.” 

His mother gave him a surprised look, then let out a river of warm laughter. “My son…you’ve been doing it yourself for the last few minutes.” 

“Wait, what?” He startled, paying more attention to the flow of energy in his body. 

She was right.  

Her power was still moving alongside his…but it wasn’t guiding his energies anymore. He was doing it all on his own. 

“I’m doing it!” he cried. “I’m actually doing it!” 

“Yes, you are,” she said. “Now, do you feel those little channels in your gauntlets?” 

“I…do,” he said, feeling small gateways for his life force throughout the magical gauntlets. 

“Good,” she said. “Now push your energy into those gateways, just like pooling your power in different parts of your body.” 

Matthias concentrated, guiding his power through the waiting channels in his gauntlets. 

The gauntlets thrummed with power, vibrating around his hands. 

They shimmered, a warmth spreading through them; Matthias felt the last of Haakon’s energies being expelled, washed away by the powerful tide of his own Divinely-empowered life force. 

The gauntlets flared, metal shifting and expanding. 

They swelled, becoming immense, obsidian fists with spikes emerging from their surface. A dark, smoky substance rose from the shiny, black surface, reminding him of his shadow-tendril. 

He felt the power of the gauntlets—their mass, their strength, their sturdiness—surrounding his hands. Yet, that power came with a trade-off. Flexing his fingers was slower and more difficult; the gauntlets’ thick material and spikes interfered with his dexterity, making it harder to grip things or make fine movements. 

They were also stiff, supporting his wrists, but preventing them from moving. 

“Huh.” Matthias looked down at the gauntlets. “I can see why Haakon didn’t transform them until near the end of the fight. I don’t think I can wield weapons very well when they’re transformed like this.” He slammed his fists together; a heavy crack echoed through the mountains. “But they’re great for punching! Right, mother?” 

Beggahasta, meanwhile, was staring at the gauntlets as though they were snakes coiled around her son’s hands. 

“What? What’s happened to them?” she asked. “What did you do?” 

“Me?” He looked down at the gauntlets. “Do you mean because they’re a different colour than when Haakon wore them? It makes sense that they’d react to my life energy differently than his, doesn’t it?” 

She shook her head. “They shouldn’t work that way. No matter whose life energy is poured into them, it should have the same effects…maybe they changed because you use Divine Breath. I know little about that art.” 

He examined the gauntlets closely. “I think they’re a bit bigger than when Haakon used them, too. The spikes look longer…and sharper. Wait, the power stone of one of my Towers said: Know well that all you take up will also be closer to its purpose. Maybe that’s the reason the gauntlets work a bit differently for me than they did for Haakon. One With Truth and Nature is bringing out more of their power.”  

“That could be true,” she said.  

“I want to try shooting the spikes!” Matthias turned toward a tree. 

“Wait a moment!” Beggahasta reached out. 

But he was already pouring his energy into life-energy gates beneath the gauntlets’ spikes. The stone gloves greedily drank in his power, their spikes shuddering, then shooting away with echoing cracks. 

They raced through the air, trailing darkness as they flew, and struck the tree trunk, burrowing deep into the wood with enough force to shake pine cones from the lower branches. 

Matthias stared at the spikes buried in the tree. 

“Mother, look!” He pointed eagerly. “I…” he took a deep breath, slightly winded. 

“Are you alright?” She reached up, taking him by the chin and looking into his eyes.  

“Yeah, why?” 

“Oh, thank the Ascended,” she sighed. “Those gauntlets shoot stone spikes, Matthias, but the obsidian spikes can’t come from nothing. To grow and fire the spikes, they'll need your energy to fuel themselves.” 

“Oh…oooooh…” Realisation struck him. “No wonder I feel a bit winded. No wonder Haakon didn't use them until the end of the fight! What I did just now was uh, a bit dangerous, wasn’t it?” 

“Yes, and you tend not to shy away from danger. Bravery’s a good trait, but so is caution, Matt,” she chided him gently. 

“Got it,” he said. 

“Still.” She looked at the spikes in the tree trunk. “That was impressive: the gauntlets launched the spikes with more power than when Haakon was using them.” 

“Yeah, that’s probably my Tower’s abilities making that happen,” Matthias guessed, suddenly very glad that Haakon didn’t have the same abilities he did. In the fighting-pit, the stone spikes had pierced his chainmail and punctured his reinforced flesh, it had taken a few days of healing with Altaizar’s bandages for him to recover. Looking at the force of the shadowy, obsidian versions of the spikes…he doubted he would have gotten away with minor wounds from them. 

Feeling his energy recover after a short time, he turned, levelling a single gauntlet toward a boulder—farther away than the tree—and fired another spike. 

He missed. 

It buried itself in a mound of gravel, flinging pebbles in the air. Matthias blushed, glanced at his mother, adjusted his aim, and fired again. Another spike soared through the air, crashing through the brush behind the rock.  

He cleared his throat. 

“Don’t be embarrassed. An archer trains for years to master their bow, and even a crossbow takes most soldiers a month or two of practice to hit a target at far distances,” she said. “This will be your first lesson on the differences between fighting a warrior and a beast.” 

Matthias looked at her expectantly. “And that is?” 

“Range. Do you know why we Stonebreakers—and others who practise Life Enforcement—tend to favour melee combat?” She raised Tallis. “Because it is the simplest and most reliable way to use our physical power. An unempowered archer’s longbow is no deadlier in my hands than in the hands of any mortal warrior. For me to be an archer, performing to my greatest potential, I would need an incredibly strong bow made of very sturdy materials, crafted carefully and maintained vigorously. The one I have was made especially for me. But, to kill in melee?”    

She raised her hands. “I just need my fists, and any melee weapon only makes my hands that more deadly. That is why—though all Evalmerans train in melee combat—the armies of High Evalmera reserve knighthood for those who can practise Life Enforcement or The Gift. Those with our abilities are expected to wade into the most dangerous parts of combat, crushing swaths of foes and smashing the deadliest of enemy champions. The rest of the army—ideally—would be using bows, crossbows, javelins and long spears to strike at enemies from range or reach.” 

 “That makes sense.” He nodded, remembering the lessons from Sur Friya. “But…with a beast…a powerful beast…even mortals who practise Life Enforcement will want to keep as far away as they can, using ranged weapons when they can.” 

“Exactly.” Beggahasta pointed at his gauntlets. “Unlike a mortal warrior, most beasts have no ability to fight back from long ranges. That is why we shoot moose and bear and don’t chase them down to strangle them: we can bring them down with no risk at a distance.” 

“And you think that might be what I need to do with Bregindoure?” Matthias asked. 

“Yes. Take advantage of starting the engagement at range. Make him come to you and keep away from him as long as you can. Make him tire. Let him make mistakes. Lure him into traps. That is the way our ancestors overcame the beasts of the Wolfwood, despite not having the physical abilities to match them directly. Rely on your physical prowess only when you have the advantage, or when you have to.”  

“Got it.” Matthias lifted his gauntlets. “So that means I’ll be practising with these while I’m learning to move my energy in the Way of Stone, right?” 

“Yes, and you had better only go to Bregindoure at night to see what he’s dreaming of. Do not fight him yet,” she said. “Use most of your time at night to practise and train in these new arts. After a few nights of this, we’ll be ready to go on our tiger hunt. That’s when you’ll apply what I’ve taught you.” 

“Got it.” Matthias clenched his fists. “Meanwhile, I’ll try to think of a way to reach Bregindoure. I wish I could talk to him properly when we’re awake, but I can’t, not with Eklund’s guards there swarming around like cockroaches. But I’m sure I’ll think of something. In the meantime, we’ll bring down that demonic beast.” 

### 

A cavern yawned open in the mountains. 

For most of its life, the cavern was never significant; from time to time, it would serve as a den for dire bears, tigers or cave lions, then spend the rest of its existence empty. 

Presently though, something far more sinister than those simple creatures lived inside it.  

Outside of the cavern mouth, a herd of gnoles crouched. Fearsome inhabitants of the Wolfwood and forests outside the Godshield, their furry bodies were apelike in appearance—long arms, and long fingers tipped with long claws—with shorter, bowed legs; elongated snouts filled with jagged teeth and elk-like antlers rising from their skulls. 

Irritable, hungry and unburdened by bright minds, they could not truly be called sapient.  

Tools eluded them. 

Higher emotions eluded them. 

Their world was one of hunger, lust, thirst and other base instincts. 

One of those instincts was fear. 

It was fear that bound the herd to this cave, and to their new master. A master that was not one of their kind; yet, any one of these creatures would gladly betray their own for his favour. 

Gnoles were creatures too simple to know ‘respect’, but the closest they came to it was a fear and a deference to strength. 

And their master was strong. 

It was for this strong master that they dragged a screaming sacrifice to the cavern’s mouth. Two gnoles gripped the shoulders of an elderly farmer who had been left alone for much too long while his family worked the fields. The pair were dragging the begging man to the cave mouth. 

With growls and screeches, they shoved him to the stones in front of the cavern. 

He cowered—curling his bruised body in expectation of more blows—and waited for their cruel treatment...but it never came. 

Instead, he saw them fleeing the cave mouth as quickly as they could lope away. 

The old farmer fell silent, peering into the darkness of the cavern. 

A pair of eyes—like green, burning emeralds—opened. 

The man screamed. 

A massive paw—black, banded with orange stripes—reached from the dark, hooked into the man’s jerkin and pulled him into the darkness. 

He screamed. 

He begged. 

He struggled. 

None of it mattered. 

All cries stopped with a wet crunch. 

The gnoles shuddered. 

A low growl escaped the cavern mouth, sending the antlered creatures scurrying into the mountains, looking for food to bring to their master. 

They knew well what that growl meant. 

There was no need for language to convey their master’s one, simple desire: 

More. 

###

Author's Note

You thought you'd escaped from my shitty references, didn't you? Hehehehhee, not so much.

Also we got a bit of worldbuilding here on how army-on-army combat in a more medieval setting might change when you bring cultivators or other augmented soldiers into the mix.

Of course, that's just my vision of it!

Cya Wednesday!