Oh, sands, my mind was BLOWN! I mean, she was Ryst Nova, and she was standing there in this unbelievable—well. Just watch it. Endless caricature fodder.

  - Sibsil Creed, Stories of Shurwinn, (2768)

  Mmm. Fresh mangoes right off the tree! For six weeks, I’d been working in the Media Monastery gardens or doing odd jobs around the campus, and one of the rewards was amazing fruits for lunch.

  My days were pretty similar to what they had been in the casita, but instead of Jendo by myself, I started the morning with Tindin flow in the dojo with the others. I’d gone from stumbling new girl to proficient, but still had a lot of work to do on the balances before I’d be an adept.

  After practicing and chores, I’d spend the afternoons in the library, and I’d gotten so good at Shurwinn that I could read advanced literature, but my conversational skills still needed work.

  And that was where I kept getting tripped up. Every time I tried to talk to people, I sensed their moods or intentions, and I didn’t know how to stop it. I didn’t like how creepy that felt, so I ate outside like today under a coconut palm by myself.

  I heard soft footsteps approaching and looked up to see a tall, lithe man heading my way.

  “You don’t like soup?” he asked, taking shelter in the shade of my tree.

  He moved with grace as he sat next to me—definitely a Tindin adept. I recognized him from the dining hall, but we'd never spoken before. Did he need something? Usually, no one came up to me when I was eating outside.

  I smiled at him and answered, “Actually, I do like soup, but I need to eat certain things for my health, so that’s why I’m not eating what everyone else is having,” I told him.

  I felt his manner relax a little, and I sensed that he'd been concerned there was a problem with their food that made me avoid it.

  I tried pulling my curtain around my mind and feelings, but it was hard. I couldn’t block out the information. It was like breathing; it just seemed to be a part of me.

  He asked again, “And fruit is better for you?”

  “That’s right. And uncooked vegetables and nuts too.”

  “Why only those foods?” he asked, genuinely perplexed.

  “May I speak in Universal? It’s too complex for me to answer in Shurwinn.”

  “Of course,” he said in Universal, putting his hands on the ground behind him and relaxing.

  “The truest answer to your question is that I just know that it’s right for me right now,” I said.

  He cocked his head a little and looked at me with probing eyes, “And the less true answer?”

  Excellent, a companion who was good at verbal sparring. My awareness expanded out, around, and reached towards him, so I turned my head away to look at the garden and leaned back against the tree, trying to get my senses under control.

  “It’s not untrue, exactly,” I said. “But it’s the logical answer.”

  I felt my voice soften. I hadn’t spoken much since arriving in Shurwinn, and I hadn’t told anyone about my past. I certainly hadn’t talked about Darwin.

  I decided to try. I could talk to this man since it didn’t feel like he had an ulterior motive, and he didn’t give me a romantic vibe or anything weird.

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  He looked like a grandfather. Probably around sixty. So I started to talk about myself for the first time in months.

  “I was badly injured,” I started softly. "By medica standards, I had healed completely, but I kept having symptoms. And the wounds were—beyond physical. My mind and emotions were wounded, too. So I came to Shurwinn, not really knowing why, but needing a change."

  I sat up a little straighter, feeling emboldened now that I’d started talking. "I felt a little better once I got here and liked the vegetarian food. The curries are so good!"

  He chuckled, and I continued my story, telling him about the things I’d been eating and why. I could sense he was genuinely curious, and was happy to tell him the end result: “It’s working; I can honestly say that I feel better than I ever have.”

  His lips curved, “I’m glad to hear it. You're from Starlend, right?”

  I nodded. He must’ve had access to my recon information. I didn’t know how public those files were on Shurwinn since I wasn’t a citizen, but usually, the information wasn’t hard to find if you knew how to look.

  Either this man knew how to look, or he had an official reason at the monastery to know about the off sphere in residence.

  He surprised me, saying, “I once danced with a Level 9 Jendo.”

  My eyebrows flew up, and I couldn’t help the excitement that wanted to burst out. Leaning towards him, I asked, “And would you like to again?”

  He smirked, “Is that a formal request?”

  “Formal request?”

  He adjusted his posture, sitting up straight, “In Tindin, we say to a friend we want to spar with, ‘Are we dancing?’ But formally we ask, ‘Would you like to dance?’ if the person is new to us.”

  I asked, “And ‘dance’ is ‘spar?’ Can you say it in Shurwinn?”

  He nodded and said in Shurwinn, “Would you like to dance, Ryst Nova?”

  My face lit up with a huge grin. “When and where?”

  “We greet the sun tomorrow in dojo six,” he said, and stood up and walked away.

  It all started with a song.

  He sang it, of course.

  And I finally understood what you both saw that no one else could see.

  How big it was. And it was up to me.

  The unseen was seen.

  - Sibsil Creed, Stories of Shurwinn, (2772)

  There were nine small, private dojo rooms off the large central dojo, and I found my dance partner opening the door to dojo 6 as I arrived. Wordlessly, we entered the room and began greeting the sun in the typical morning flow.

  I was excited. I hadn’t sparred since the injury, and I was going to dance with a probable Level 9 in Tindin. How often did off spheres get to spar with Shurwinn masters?

  The scenario was ludicrous. I wasn't even Level 1 in Tindin.

  Sparring was a completely different scenario from moving through the forms. The forms trained my body to move in certain ways, and repeating them over and over across years made them instinctual.

  Facing an opponent, however, meant that I‘d need to utilize them creatively to defend or assert.

  “Dance” was a good word for sparring because it was creative. To face a Level 9 opponent without ever sparring at lower levels was futile.

  So, I planned to spar as a Level 9 Jendo, and I would see how weeks of Tindin training had influenced my skills. Then I'd find out if it was possible to keep a curtain around my mind when I was touching another person.

  We progressed through the morning flow, moving mostly in tandem, him the graceful adept, me the competent student. As the flow came to an end, we turned to face each other, and I let him take the lead.

  He was the master; I was the child.

  He struck. He was tall and lean and made of muscle, but I was smaller, faster, younger, and more flexible.

  It was very different parrying someone who was using Tindin forms instead of Jendo. I really did have to be creative, and he did too. I poured all of my concentration into my movements, and my body felt good. It was like I was remembering something that I hadn’t done before, but was familiar all the same.

  I started to sense that he was having fun and really enjoying the match. I was too, and I tried dialing back my awareness, turning my attention to only my movements.

  But you can’t face an opponent without being aware of him.

  Distracted, I lost my focus, and he pinned me. I tapped the floor and yielded. It hadn’t really been much of a fight, but I'd held my own long enough to give him a good session.

  We bowed to one another.

  “You dance well, Dr. Nova. Would you like to be a Tindin acolyte here at Media?”

  Shocked, I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right. “Thank you, Master. It’s Ryst, please, and are you asking me to be your student?” I couldn’t keep my eyebrows from climbing my forehead.

  “Not ‘Master,' only ‘Denten,'” he corrected softly. "And yes, will you train as my acolyte?”

  “Thank you, Denten, of course. I’d love to!”

  He nodded to me. “We greet the sun here in dojo 6 tomorrow and every day you're present." Then he was gone.

  Dream Journal

  I walked through a crowded starliner. There were people everywhere. I was so tired, and everything was fog. I couldn’t tell where I was supposed to be going. I needed to find something, but I was just so tired. If I could only lie down.

  There was a bench, so I sat. I rested my head on someone’s shoulder next to me and closed my eyes, feeling so good to rest. I felt a hand on my cheek, and I wasn’t alone.