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Chapter 14

  Corvin stood with the rising sun at his back.

  The field of flowers swayed in a silent breeze, lightly brushing against his pants and feet.

  His shirt lay over the southeastern rock to keep it dry and safe from the sweat pouring off his body.

  He supported a hundred-pound stone over his head, while his lower half remained in a deep stance.

  His arms trembled with the effort it took just to keep it there. His toes curled around the edge of his sandals as a form of resistance, and to resist the urge to straighten his legs.

  His every breath could be heard from each corner of the field.

  The muscles in his jaw flexed and his eyes stayed forcefully shut.

  He could not let go.

  He would not let go.

  Corin stood facing the rising sun.

  She balanced atop a tall stone arch with forty-pound stones in each hand.

  Sweat dripped from every strand of her hair and pooled at her feet.

  Her bare feet clung to the narrow arch like a lifeline despite the water.

  The eight-foot fall wouldn’t kill her. But she knew how much it hurt.

  She glanced down at the flowers swaying beneath the arch: scarlet-colored, round heads, and lined with sharp thorns.

  They weren’t a cushion she’d ever choose to sit on.

  Vrakhu stood atop the northern stone with his eyes shifting back and forth between each twin.

  His arms locked behind his back. His body still as the stone he stood on.

  Vrakhu looked more statue than man.

  Corin’s left arm began to sag.

  Vrakhu’s eyes instantly darted to her and focused on her arm.

  She fought to straighten her arm, but the stone was gaining ground.

  It wanted to return to the ground. And it would, even if it had to drag her down with it.

  Corin’s neck muscles flexed and her face reddened.

  A low growl crawled through gritted teeth.

  Corin’s eyes fixed onto the stone in her left hand and she pushed back.

  She wouldn’t lose here.

  She refused.

  Slowly, impossibly, her left arm straightened until it mirrored her right.

  She exhaled; her face slowly returned to its proper color. Though the effort had taken its toll on her.

  Her shoulders burned like they’d been lit aflame.

  Her ankles ached like they’d broken.

  Her jaw tingled how hard she’d grit her teeth.

  Her eyes slid from the rock and sought out Corvin.

  She couldn’t see his face with the sun right behind him. But she didn’t need to.

  He was grinning at her struggle.

  She knew it.

  Corvin’s will was stable, but his legs were ready to give up.

  The stance was, in a word, torture.

  He felt like a fire had been lit under him and every second his thighs burned.

  If he loosened the grip on his sandals, he would fall.

  If he loosened his abdominal muscles, he would fall.

  If he lost focus for even a single moment, he would fall.

  Vrakhu’s eyes found him the moment his legs began to straighten.

  Corvin stopped breathing and put every ounce of focus into his stance… Thus, his arms began to weaken.

  His elbows bent, the stone inched closer to his head — Vrakhu stepped around him.

  He placed a single hand beneath the stone and waited.

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  Corvin suddenly, explosively exhaled.

  His entire body went limp, even as his mind fought to regain control.

  He dropped straight down like a puppet without its strings.

  His arms released the stone, and it plummeted towards the ground, on a collision arc with his head... For all of two inches before Vrakhu’s palm interrupted its path.

  The stone wanted to crash.

  Everything in its being craved returning to the ground.

  But Vrakhu’s hand was as immovable as the mountain.

  He held the stone with a straight arm, while watching Corvin struggle to breathe.

  His eyes passed over Corvin’s trembling legs, his unresponsive arms, and his chest which struggled to rise.

  “Start running.”

  Corvin stayed on his back for a few precious moments before crawling to his feet.

  Saliva pooled at the back of his throat despite his lips being dry and pale.

  His vision shrunk at the edges leaving him with only a warped tunnel to see the world.

  As he started to run, he fought to get his breathing under control.

  A glance at Corin had him mentally kicking himself.

  She was still atop the arch, still going strong.

  While the old man had determined his body was already finished.

  Running was something neither of them wanted to do.

  It wasn’t the next step in training.

  It wasn't even a punishment.

  You ran while you waited for the other to finish.

  Which could only mean one thing…

  He’d lost.

  Again.

  He glanced at her one last time before dropping his eyes to the ground and running with all his might.

  Corin’s eyes were screwed shut.

  She couldn’t hear anything beyond the blood rushing through her veins and the creaking of her bones.

  She felt sick to the stomach.

  Her lungs worked, but it was as if no breath was good enough.

  Her arms burned over invisible flames.

  Her ankles screamed in agony.

  If she opened her eyes, she was done.

  If she opened her eyes, she would lose.

  That single thought was the only thing keeping her upright.

  But, as the seconds crawled by with torturous certainty. She found herself wanting to check on Corvin’s progress.

  Or at the very least, she wanted to show him she wasn’t done yet.

  Blood dripped from the corner of her mouth. Her gums were bleeding from the pressure of gritting her teeth.

  One peek wouldn’t hurt, right?

  She could handle a couple of seconds… right?

  She relaxed her face just enough to crack open her eyes.

  She exhaled; all the breath in her lungs fleeing in a single moment.

  Corin lost consciousness without realizing it.

  The stones won their push towards the ground, and pulled her down with them.

  She swayed first, then fell with her head leading the way.

  Vrakhu stepped into the ring of thorns the instant she began to sway.

  The flowers brushed against his pants, but the thorns turned soft against his skin.

  The flowers welcomed him in the same way the forest did.

  He ignored them, and they refused him harm.

  Vrakhu lightly pushed against Corin’s head with one hand, and her legs with the other.

  He flipped her around, then spun her away from the patch of thorns.

  She landed on her back with a dull — Thud! — a few feet outside the ring, still wholly unconscious.

  Vrakhu glanced at her arms and legs, then checked her breathing.

  He briefly checked on Corvin, who was circling the far end of the field.

  He knelt by her side and reached into his pocket to retrieve a dark brown pouch that was no larger than the end of a finger.

  He uncoiled the string keeping it tightly closed and waved it under her nose.

  “Huuuuu!” Corin sucked in a huge breath and rolled away from the pouch.

  "Cough! Cough! Ahh!"

  Vrakhu resealed the pouch and tucked it away while Corin coughed until her lungs burned.

  Powdered Asphodel roots were a rich source of Yin energy but shouldn’t be eaten due to its toxicity.

  It was also fantastic for waking both the living and the dead.

  “Corin!” Corvin’s voice reached them only a few moments before he did. “Are- Are you alright?”

  His chest was heaving, his lips were cracking, yet his entire focus was on his sister.

  “Hold it together. Just hold it together. He doesn’t need to see you break.” Corin’s head moved slightly to the side.

  It was a physical rejection of the idea.

  She refused to allow him, or anyone else, to see her weakness.

  Her movements were imperceptible to Corvin, but not their Master.

  Corin pushed herself onto her knees and smirked up at him.

  “Don’t I look alright?” She used both arms and motioned to herself.

  He looked her over once, twice, thrice before he was satisfied.

  “Of course she’s alright. She wouldn’t give up like I did…” He sighed and shook his head. “Actually, you look like a half-dead mouse.”

  He grinned and held out a hand to help her up.

  Which she took without much protest.

  He pulled her to her feet and helped her walk back to the triangle stones they always sat on.

  Vrakhu followed the two without a word.

  Neither child understood their progress.

  Which was expected.

  He could reach out and pluck a cloud from the sky for each of them. But that wouldn’t help them understand rain.

  They needed to experience the world for themselves or they would never understand.

  He listened to both their inner and outer voices and knew the time for isolation had reached its inevitable end.

  Perhaps it was time for the three of them to visit the city.

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