Chapter 20
‘I thought all we had to do was drink the damn potions,’ Ambarro complained. ‘Why do we have to sit through a lecture, of all things?’
‘You’d want to at least know what the potion you’re drinking will do to you, wouldn’t you?’ Harrow replied, exasperated.
‘It’ll make me stronger, of course,’ Ambarro retorted. ‘All the flasks will. What else do I need to know?’
He expected Harrow to immediately shoot back with a stinging remark, but to his surprise, the elf simply bit his lip and looked away, a dark scowl on his face. What was that about?
All thirteen kits of year 182 were gathered in a lecture hall. Master Torako looked over them, counting.
‘Shiyo, Kaori, Rinka, Tom, Diia, Nacadi, Io, Tenna, Cika, Urokko, Yuuzen, Ambarro, Harrow. All present. Well, then, let’s begin.’
Groaning inwardly, Ambarro pulled out a spare piece of parchment from his pocket and began to jot down words almost as fast as Torako could say them. He might not be able to remember even half of the lecture, but at least he’d have it all written down if there was a test.
‘As you are all no doubt aware, your thirteenth year marks the year that you first partake of Rendanshu potions. After this briefing, the Clear Flask awaits.’
Master Torako gazed at each of them in turn.
‘There is no risk at all, not at this level of Rendanshu. I will warn you, however, that the experience is… unpleasant. The immediate effects of the Clear Flask will last for over a month, and you will emerge forever changed.’
Torako drew in a deep breath and Ambarro braced himself.
‘In the first few days following your consumption of the Clear Flask, waste and toxins that have built up in your body over the years will be forced out to prevent their interaction with the potions that you will take in the future. After that, additional lobules will begin growing in your liver, cementing the detoxification effect and also giving you resistance to most poisons…’
After ten minutes of detailing the Clear Flask’s effects, Ambarro ran out of room and flipped over to the other side of the parchment, cursing under his breath as he missed several words.
‘…your blood vessels will become widened and strengthened, and an extra layer of alveoli will spread across your lungs, allowing for more efficient exchange of materials. Your heart muscles will become denser and capable of pumping with more force, increasing cardiac output while lowering average heartrate. This will allow you to exert yourself for longer periods of time…’
Ambarro’s eyes drooped, and he felt himself dozing off. He didn’t understand half of what Master Torako was saying, but his hand flew and he copied it all down without his brain getting in the way.
‘…and also the spleen and lymph nodes, bolstering your immune system to extreme heights. Additional chemical compounds will be added to the formula of your gastric acids, allowing digestion to take place in one tenths of the time. Absorption surface area in your intestines will be quadrupled…’
Just let us drink the stuff already, Ambarro shifted in his seat, impatient. His right hand began to tire and he switched to writing with his left. Shinobi training included ambidexterity exercises, though Ambarro always preferred his right. I write with my right hand, ha-ha. Oh, great, now I’ve lost track of the lecture. What about the bladder now? I’m going to piss less? Good to know, but what’s this got to do with being a shinobi?
‘…and you should report to the hospice immediately if you notice any symptoms beyond these. That concludes our briefing. Proceed into the adjacent room. I will administer the Clear Flask.’
Finally. Ambarro got up from his seat and joined the other kits in a line. Torako opened a sliding door on the left side of the lecture hall, then motioned for the kits to go through. As Harrow passed, however, the instructor laid a light hand on his shoulder. He felt a subtle surge of Magicka, and a small bubble of hush fell around them. ‘A moment of your time, Harrow.’
‘Master?’
‘You are already aware that Rendanshu potions are brewed for Po’ Tun, not a manmer such as yourself. I want you to know, however, that there is some historical precedent for the application of Rendanshu to non-Po’ Tun.’
‘I remember, Master. I’ve done some research on the matter. When the Khajiit of Elsweyr sent their young to Tsukikage for training in the early years of the Second Era, all of them were compatible to a large degree with Rendanshu. There have also been examples of outsiders being offered the Clear Flask as a gift, among which there have been both Nords and Altmer.’
‘And Jorra-jo calls me an obsessive scholar. I never spent half the time you do in the library when I was your age.’ Torako chuckled. ‘Then you know that you will be able to withstand the Clear Flask at least as well as your fellow kits. I can say the same for the White Flask with some certainty, but from the Pale Flask onwards… If only you had been born a Po’ Tun. You are one of my brightest students, Harrow, and the thought of you not being able to take even the Yellow Flask…’
Torako trailed off and sighed. ‘I could see what our healers and alchemists can do to modify the Rendanshu formula, but it would be safer for you if we were not to change anything at all. The Sages who devised Rendanshu are long dead, and their secrets lie with them in Akavir.’
‘Master Torako,’ Harrow said flatly. ‘I am prepared. Forgive my tone, but what are you trying to say?’
‘With a normal Po’ Tun, risk of death only arises with the last two Flasks, Red and Black, and it is almost non-existent for the former. Most kits will drink all the way up to the Green or Blue Flask. But with your Nord and Altmer blood, Harrow, you risk permanent disability even with the Pale Flask, and almost certain death from the Green Flask onwards.’
‘I see,’ Harrow said, trying to keep a bitter smile from spreading across his face. ‘So the point here is – I will never become as strong, as fast, or as resilient as any of my fellows. Especially Ambarro.’
Torako spared a glance at the rest of the kits, who were waiting on the other side of the door. Ambarro craned his head over to look at the two of them, frowning.
‘He’s always the last in class, isn’t he? Always the slowest to learn. Always the clown. Always the dunce. And yet, simply because he was born to the right parents…’ Harrow had to fight to keep his face from contorting. Then he straightened his back and his tone was flat again. ‘Apologies, Master. That was weak of me. I won’t complain again.’
Torako gazed at the despondent elf, a memory from about three years ago leaping to the front of his head. It had been a very similar conversation with a very similar young man.
‘Another fail, Ambarro?’
The black-furred kit rested his cheek on one hand, his usual cheery demeanour gone. ‘I don’t know what I did wrong. I’ve gone through this chapter at least a dozen times. I even remember it from start to finish. “The art of stealth lies in the concealment of presence. Masking sight, muffling sound, eliminating scent, avoiding touch. This can be done by using the sight, sound, scent and touch of the environment. Be as a lone petal in a sea of cherry blossoms…”’
Torako found his signature line of ‘perhaps you should have worked harder’ crawling back down his throat as Ambarro perfectly recited the fifth chapter of Essential Shinobi Techniques, Volume Three.
Unsure what to say as silence fell once again, he leant in slightly and inspected the kit. There were deep bags under his eyes where he’d stayed up all night to revise, and his index and middle fingers were stained with ink. There were calluses over his calluses on the backs of his knuckles, thanks to his constant hand-to-hand practice on his rough wooden dummies. The same was true for the inside of his palms, where the hilt of his kunai had chafed. He was favouring his left leg, Harrow having dislocated his right ankle in practice just two days ago. There was a fresh burn on his forehead where he’d charred himself with his own fireball. This was most certainly not the appearance of someone not working hard enough.
So instead of reprimanding him, Torako pulled up a chair next to the kit and gently tugged the failed test from his tight grip.
‘You cannot force your way through everything, Ambarro,’ he said softly. ‘Hard work is important, yes, but so is finesse and strategy. You remember everything in Chapter Five, but do you understand what it means?’
‘Shinobi need to… not be seen?’
‘Or heard, or smelt, or touched. The tactics detailed in the chapter will save your life one day, but only if you allow yourself to learn.’
‘I’m trying to! It doesn’t help that everything in the book is so blasted complicated!’
‘It shouldn’t be difficult to understand-’
‘Well it is! All this… “meta-for” and “alleh-gory” and whatever else you call it. Yes, yes, the Akaviri were not a straightforward people, but we’re not exactly Akaviri any more, are we? Why can’t we find easier ways to write and talk?’
Torako had barely opened his mouth to answer when Ambarro cut in again.
‘I know what you’re going to say. Everybody else is understanding it fine, right? All the other kits, they passed, right? And Harrow, he made full marks, right? So it’s definitely my problem, right? I spent one whole week rereading the chapter to memorise it, he did it in one hour. One hour!’
He snatched the test back and stuffed it in his pocket.
‘He always has to be smarter than everybody else in the room. Always the first to come up with a solution, always at the top, always better than me!’
Ambarro hissed venomously after spitting out the last four syllables of his outburst, and for a while both instructor and student were silent. Mokko would have given the boy a thrashing for disrespecting his elders, Unaka would have laughed it off like she did everything, and Jorra… what would Jorra-jo have done?
Torako decided to wait. After a few minutes, Ambarro’s angry shell crumbled away.
‘I hate him,’ he said dejectedly. ‘I hate losing to him. I hate being dumber than everyone. I hate it when I try twice as hard and fail twice as much.’
Torako said nothing for another fifteen minutes. Then, as Ambarro headed for the door, he raised his voice lightly and asked, ‘When do you usually sleep?’
Ambarro blinked, then answered, ‘Eleven.’
‘Excellent. Starting tonight, extend that by an hour every time we have a lecture or a test and come to my office. Bring the study material of the day and a great deal of parchment. Don’t worry, I will personally make sure to edit out all the “meta-for” and “alleh-gory” in those sessions.’
For a brief moment he was terrified that Ambarro would actually hug him. ‘Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you,’ the kit said thickly. Please for the love of my ancestors don’t cry. ‘I’ll come. I’ll definitely come.’
And come he did, for every night following that afternoon, even on days when there weren’t lectures. He always stayed well over one hour, always brought all his books and tests, and always refused to leave until everything was explained to him as clearly as possible. He kept his habit of writing down every one of Torako’s words when they studied, so the instructor took extra care to only use the simplest language possible. And he always left with a huge, satisfied grin on his face.
Little by little, session by session, month by month, Ambarro’s performance crawled up. He did not fail a single test the following year.
Even though there was no fur on his face and his features were spread out further, Harrow’s expression reminded Torako so much of Ambarro’s that he had to rub his eyes.
‘Last in class, slow learner, clown, dunce,’ he said, in the same soft voice he had used back then. ‘Ambarro is all of those things, Harrow, and he is more. I think you know that too. Perhaps even better than I do.’
‘I do know,’ Harrow murmured, silver eyes clouding over. ‘He saved me not once but twice during our first mission alone, and more times than I can count in our later assignments. It annoys me how I owe him. It irritates me how he always succeeds in spite of himself. It drives me insane how he laughs and jests at anything and anyone, no matter what chaos is unfolding around him. Everything about him… rankles me.’
Torako studied him for a few seconds longer, then stepped to the side and let him through. As the door closed behind him, he shook his head and smiled. Those two will either end up the best of friends or the worst of enemies. Or perhaps both.
Ambarro stared at Harrow as he rejoined the other kits. Master Torako had to have cast some kind of spell when the conversation started, because he couldn’t hear a single word of it.
‘What were you talking about?’
‘Mind your own business, dunce.’
‘Fine, forget I asked,’ Ambarro huffed, then looked around the room. It was made of cold stone and lit by a couple of lanterns. There was a line of closed cubicles running down one side of the wall.
‘Come now, Harrow-to,’ Diia coaxed. ‘I’m curious too.’
Harrow sighed. ‘Master Torako simply wished me to know that even though I am not a Po’ Tun, the Clear Flask will not present a risk or have diminished effect.’
‘And that took you almost five minutes?’ Ambarro said, sceptical. ‘Right.’
‘Believe what you want.’
The door to the room opened again, and a couple of Po’ Tun with healer’s sashes strode inside. One of them had a tray laden with thirteen glass flasks. The kits stopped chatting and turned to bow at their seniors. Diia had to give Ambarro a little push to remind him. The two healers returned the bow.
‘Kits of Year 182,’ the healer with the tray said. ‘Please line up and take one Clear Flask each.’
‘Huh,’ Io remarked. ‘It actually is in a clear flask.’
The other healer grinned. ‘If you must know, the potion is brewed in a pot, distilled through a hollow channel in the lid, and collected in a bowl. We could give it to you in the bowl if you wanted, but the Rendanshu Sages probably thought that “The Clear Bowl” didn’t have much of a ring to it.’
Ambarro gave his flask a couple of shakes as he took it from the tray, sending a tangle of bubbles spiralling lazily upwards. It was shaped like a normal glass bottle, small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. There was a slight bulge around the middle and a cork stopper at the top.
‘Does everyone have a flask? Good. You may drink now.’
There was a collection of pops as the kits uncorked their Clear Flasks. Ambarro hesitated briefly, then drank his potion in one gulp.
It was literally the dullest thing he had ever tasted. He had expected the sharp bite of alcohol or the bitter tang of herbal medicine, but the Clear Flask tasted of absolutely nothing. Not even the undertones of rock and salt in normal water.
‘Wow,’ he said aloud. ‘That was surprisingly boring.’ From the looks of the other kits, they agreed.
The two healers exchanged inscrutable glances. ‘Everyone has drunk, correct? Good.’
The healer with the tray raised her hand and opened the door. ‘Kaori-rei, Rinka-rei, Diia-rei, Nacadi-rei, Tenna-rei and Cika-rei, please follow me.’ Forming a line, all the girls followed her out of the room.
‘Why’d you separate us?’ Yuuzen asked, confused. ‘Are we going to strip?’
‘That’s entirely up to you,’ the other healer shrugged. ‘Now please get in a cubicle. And do remember to bolt the door.’
The boys each picked a cubicle and sidled in, looking slightly confused. Ambarro was the last to go in. ‘Uh,’ he asked the healer as he stopped by the sliding door, brow furrowed. ‘Why are we locking ourselves in here again? There’s a pretty big hole in the middle and it kind of stinks.’
The healer raised an eyebrow at him. ‘Didn’t you listen at the briefing earlier? You know what the Clear Flask does first, right?’
‘“Forces out waste and toxins”, yeah, but-’
‘The potion in the Clear Flask cleanses your body of impurities and other substances that could interfere with Rendanshu. They are first broken down, and then forcibly ejected,’ the healer explained, checking his timepiece. ‘Now hurry up and get in, it will begin at any moment. I hope the soundproofing magic holds this time.’
‘“Ejected”?’ Ambarro demanded as the healer herded him into the cubicle and slid the door shut. ‘What do you mean “ejected”? Ejected how?’
‘AAARGH SWEET SECUNDA,’ Ambarro screamed. ‘I CAN’T FEEL MY RECTUM ANY MORE-’
‘AMBARRO-DO,’ Shiyo screamed back. ‘I’M SURE IT’S NOT THAT BAD- AACK MY INTESTINES-’
‘HOW DO YOU KNOW? FOR ALL I KNOW MY SPHINCTER MUSCLES HAVE ALREADY TORN OFF! I’M PROBABLY BLEEDING TO DEATH RIGHT NOW! I CAN’T DIE LIKE THIS, BURIED IN A PILE OF MY OWN-’
‘DUNCE,’ Harrow screamed. ‘SHUT UP BEFORE I SHOVE YOUR FACE DOWN THE PIT IN YOUR CUBICLE- WAIT WHAT IS THAT? WHAT ON NIRN IS THAT? WHEN DID I EVEN EAT SOMETHING LIKE THAT? WHY AM I STILL LOOKING AT IT?’
‘I’M NEVER GOING TO BE ABLE TO SIT DOWN AGAIN,’ Yuuzen screamed. ‘I’LL BE LUCKY IF MY BUTTOCKS EVER STICK BACK TOGETHER-’
‘FORGET YOUR BUTTOCKS,’ Tom screamed. ‘I’D BE HAPPY IF I LIVE THROUGH THIS WITH ALL MY ORGANS STILL INSIDE-’
‘WILL YOU LOT PLEASE STOP SCREAMING?’ Io screamed. ‘I ALREADY HAVE ENOUGH TO SHUT OUT WITH THESE MAELSTROMS EXPLODING OUT FROM BETWEEN MY-’
‘OH HOW THE WIND BLOWS O’ER THE EMERALD FIELDS,’ Urokko screamed in Eastern Akaviri. ‘AND HOW THE BLADES OF METAL AND GRASS DANCE-’
‘STOP!’ Ambarro screamed. ‘WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?’
‘AT LEAST I’M TRYING TO TAKE MY MIND OFF THE FACT THAT MY CHRYSANTHEMUM IS BEING BLOWN OPEN PIECE BY PIECE-’
‘THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR PLANTING THAT IMAGE IN MY HEAD YOU SICK BASTARD,’ Yuuzen screamed.
There was the sound of a door opening and closing, and the healer’s voice rang out again. He was holding his nose.
‘Is it my imagination,’ he gagged. ‘Or do they get more putrid every year?’
‘HEALER?’ Shiyo screamed. ‘IS THAT THE HEALER?’
‘HEALER-JO,’ Tom screamed. ‘HOW MUCH LONGER?’
‘My name is Hideyo,’ the healer coughed. ‘And you’ll be in there for at least another day.’
‘ANOTHER DAY?’ Yuuzen screamed. ‘HIDEYO-JO, YOU MEAN WE’VE BEEN SQUATTING HERE FOR AN ENTIRE DAY ALREADY? HOW ARE WE NOT DEAD YET?’
‘Don’t worry, the potion isolates water and nutrients from the substances that it’s purging. You won’t starve,’ Hideyo staggered back to the doorway. ‘I’ll come check on you again in the evening – hopefully before dinner. Stay strong, young ones.’
And with that, he fled, leaving the seven kits inside the stone room. Runes on the door flared red as he slammed it shut, muffling their screams.
Comments
Also, I love how you are continuing with Harrow/Ambarro rivalry. Very nice.
Also, I love how you are continuing with Harrow/Ambarro rivalry. Very nice.