Weight of Worlds

Ranvir was surprised by the end of physical class. With how segmented his time was at the school, he felt like he’d been there longer than he really had.

With the beginning of his fourth week—not even a full month into the academy—he still wasn’t performing towards the top of physical in their group, in fact, he was still performing towards the bottom. It was just that the bottom wasn’t as exhausting anymore.

He no longer felt the need to puke his guts out after class. He was still shaky, and had some need for support when walking, but that was leagues better than how he’d been doing his first week.

“Master Vigo.” The teacher paused, as Ranvir spoke up. “Which way is Teacher Sigurd’s class?”

“You don’t know?” He sounded puzzled.

“Well, the first week was space and we were each directed towards our teacher. Second week was warp and Esmund takes that class. Last week was light-“

“And Student Grevor is in that class, yes. Pashar really did a good job of setting you up in the right classes.” He paused scanning the leaving students. “See that tall boy? Follow him, he’s also in Master Sigurd’s class.”

Ranvir followed the teacher’s finger towards the massive frame of a boy heading towards one of the groups that were gathering. Even from a distance Ranvir recognized his form.

A flash of orange irritation buzzed through him. He tried not to let it show, but knew he’d failed from Vigo’s expression.

“Don’t give me that look. Dovar’s a fine kid, if a little prone to anger. Something you should be all to familiar with.”

What the fuck does that mean? Is he referring to him breaking my nose?

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Ranvir replied, walking in the same direction Dovar was.

He would just have to keep his distance and not engage him.

Following Dovar was easy amongst the first year crowd, all of which he dwarfed. Dovar could’ve stood out amongst a line up of fully grown soldiers, while Ranvir would’ve disappeared underneath their shoulders, and Esmund would be remarkable for the distinct lack of size.

The wave of the bell, shook Ranvir’s chest as smoke class began. There were plenty of students in this class, closer to light than warp in terms of numbers. Most were standing and talking amongst themselves, with a few eying him.

Ranvir did his best to ignore the murmured words, he was getting all too familiar with, as he waited for Teacher Sigurd to show up. This was the first time he’d ever experienced a Teacher being late.

Despite his best attempts, Ranvir would occasionally glance towards Dovar and his small group of followers. It was smaller in this class than in weapons, though, he was ignoring them completely.

They were all talking and hanging around him, but no one was actually talking to him, despite their closeness. It was clear that the rest of the class didn’t care for them, as there was a clear space between the group and the rest of the class.

Dovar was pointedly ignoring them, arms crossed and eyes closed. Ranvir almost got the sense that the person who cared the least for these hangers on, was Dovar himself.

His breathing was slow and regular, though Ranvir spotted wet marks on his back and sweat pearling on his brow. He took pleasure in knowing that Dovar might be great, but physical still got to him. It was still a workout, even for him.

“Alright, students!” A man entered the field, his black uniform touched with the simple marks of a Master. Under one arm he held a stack of sitting pads, that was way too small for all the students in the class. In his other hand he carried a large bucket of that was stacked high with clay cups. The cups appeared to have been made to stack on top of each other, rather than into each other.

He threw the pads he’d been carrying in one hand on the ground in front of him. “You know the drill.” He put down the bucket a little more carefully, pulling out a rough canvas bag Ranvir hadn’t seen on first glance. “Grab a pad or grab a stone.”

Ranvir approached slowly. Many students rushed the bucket, a few headed directly for the field and finally a few students grabbed a pad.

He watched a boy retreat from the mass of students. He was holding a stone from the bag and a small clay cup from the bucket. The student rushed towards the field with the dummies, where he put down the cup, alongside a few of the students who’d opted not pick up a cup.

The ones avoiding the crowds were already generating smoke from their hands. The student with the cup and stone, however, dropped the stone into the clay container.

Ranvir couldn’t hear the plop of water over the distance and chatter of students, but after a few seconds greenish smoke rose into the air. The sight caused a flutter of bright yellow curiosity to rush through him.

Ranvir waited until all the students had made their choice. Twenty-five out of forty students had decided to fling smoke. From the looks on the faces of a few of them, they too wanted to join but couldn’t quite yet. The rest seemed happy to simply sit and meditate, Dovar among them.

Master Sigurd was squinting at Ranvir as he approached the teacher. Ranvir recognized the him as the Master that had gotten Svenar for him and Esmund, when they’d been testing ‘Degrees of Sharpness’.

His lean frame and long but sparse hair cut a unique frame.

“Teacher.” Ranvir greeted. “I’m the new student for this week, Ranvir.”

“That time already? On the fourth week? Times flies by.” He sounded older than Ranvir expected, not that he was any good judge of age.

His mother had physically aged a lot since the accident. Despite regaining much of the vigor from before, it had still taken a physical toll on her appearance that she’d probably never get back.

Teacher Sigurd looked to be fifty, going on eighty. His hair was going gray, or already there, but the stubble on his chin was coal black. He had some wrinkles, when his face was neutral, but once he started smiling his face crunched together into a mess of lined skin.

“Yes, sir.”

“Well. Please don’t hesitate to ask me any questions.”

Ranvir hesitated. He was beginning to suspect that he didn’t know enough to even begin asking the right question. Maybe with a single exception.

“What do you think is the greatest advantage you’ve used to advance your power?”

Sigurd blinked, his forehead wrinkling into a knotted mass of crevices. He let out a long slow sigh, seeming to deflate a little. “I don’t know that there’s much to it. You work hard with the talent you got. Some people will be rushing forwards.” He nodded in the direction of Dovar. “Some of us just have to keep working at it, slowly achieving our power.”

“How long have you been a teacher?” Ranvir asked, assuming it would be around the same time he’d achieved the title of Master.

“Since my mid-forties, when I achieved Heart of Smoke, so fifteen years.”

The third stage of the Body Discipline. Ranvir thought.

“Thank you for your honesty, sir.” Ranvir bowed to the man. He thought over the previous advice he’d gotten and decided to start with meditation.

He picked up a pad and sat down towards the back of the class. Pressing a finger against his chest, the rings pushing against his skin as tether-space opened for him. He paused for a moment, then released the pressure and searched for the space on his own.

For a second the thought he had it, but then he couldn’t find it again. He pressed once more revealing the opening, then stopped and searched for it again. His breath caught, when his senses hitched against something.

With a light press against his chest, he found himself sensing the upward curving rope of power. Three threads, each of which slowly rotated around itself, giving the feeling that the entire tether was spinning, while maintaining its upward curve.

I did it! He realized with surprise. He’d entered tether-space without help, well mostly without assistance. He’d done the hard part!

Ranvir didn’t bother waiting long, he knew he could stare at the tether for more than fifteen minutes. He’d heard Teacher Vigo say something interesting earlier in physical that day.

‘If you can remain in the plank for more than three minutes, then you will add an exercise into it’.

Ranvir couldn’t after the running and sprinting, but Grev and Sansir could and they’d had to spin around on one arm, while Esmund and he suffered on all fours.

The same might be said for training the tether. If I can stare at it for more than fifteen minutes, I could spend that time better… I think.

He, of course, was not an expert but with all the questions he’d asked the teachers, he was beginning to suspect that no one was. So he would just have to figure it out for himself.

And his recent practice had given him a new idea. Instead of stretching the tether out, which was surprisingly strenuous, he would spin it faster. He remembered the tether rotating when he’d shrunken space, the slightly quicker speed of stretching space, and the insane rotations of freezing space.

He would go for something slower than shrinking space, but still faster than the current leisurely tempo, he decided.

Speeding up was already easier than stretching it, and felt nowhere near as straining. Just imagining it speeding up and enforcing the image, caused the threads to spin faster. In fact, it was so easy by the time he reached ‘space-shrinking’ speeds, he wasn’t feeling all that different than just staying in the space.

There must be an additional burden when using the ability… Ranvir paused, certain that his body was blushing. Like actually manipulating space.

He refocused, spinning the tether up faster, blasting right past ‘stretch-space’ speed and closing fast on ‘freezing-space’. As he approached those speeds, the entire area started to destabilize, first apparent as the tether started wavering.

Immediately, he slowed it down a bit and the strain lessened notably.

Speed increases strain much more the faster it’s already going. He realized. Just tapping the speed up another notch and the strain he was feeling became much more apparent. Beyond that and it went into the stretching range, if not harder. I’ll keep it here for the time being, and then see how I feel in five minutes.

Ranvir bent his attention to the tether, focusing on keeping it just the right speed. He quickly lost sense of time, as his focus intensified. The harder he focused on the tether, the more he thought he saw shapes beyond it, in tether-space. Though when he took his focus off it, the space was just gray nothingness.

Ranvir blinked as he left tether-space, his bones were exhausted. At some point he’d slumped over completely, his spine no longer supporting him. He stretched upwards, looking at the other students. They were all talking amongst each other, except for Dovar who was sitting quietly, still meditating.

How long was I away? He wondered. Teacher Sigurd was sitting with his eyes closed, snoring quietly. Most of the other students were barely working, with a rare few still either working their ability or meditating.

“How long’s left of class?” Ranvir asked the closest student. He’d struggled into a sitting position, straining to just sit still.

“Like half an hour-ish.”

Ranvir nodded in thanks. He let himself relax a little. He fell onto his back, as it absolutely refused to take anything less than a full effort.

Over shot those five minutes by quite a bit, there…