Oz often recalls with pangs of shame one of his first training exercises, at the age of 14. Sister Jai had taken him, blindfolded, on a multi-day hike through the mountains. His inability to see where he was going was made worse by his unfamiliar robes. They were loose, simple things, designed so that a monk much bigger than he could disrobe with little more than a shrug. They provided very little warmth at this altitude, which carried a thin layer of snow even in summer.
Neither Oz nor Sister Jai had eaten that previous day. Oz was used to getting by with meagre meals, but never at the orphanage had starvation been coupled with such rigorous exercise. When at last Sister Jai told him to remove his blindfold, Oz could feel his knees beginning to wobble. He recalls his eyes burning under the sudden light, before finally finding himself at the mouth of a great valley.
“Stand straight, brother.” Sister Jai was soft-spoken for a Heartlander, her low, hissing voice was a stark contrast to the booming declarations of her siblings, yet somehow it always carried through a room. Oz did his best to square shoulders hidden beneath ill-fitting wool as his instructor loomed over him. “Good. Stand strong and you will be strong. Now meet my eye.” Reluctantly, he did so. Sister Jai had wide, pale eyes which reminded Oz of an elderly, half-blind owl he had once spotted from a window in the orphanage yard. These eyes, however, were highly focused. They stared at him the same way a sculptor might stare at a block of marble, before reaching for a hammer.
“Excellent. Remember, brother. I may be your instructor, but within the house we are all equals. You will not treat anyone, not even Grandmaster Raj herself, as superior to yourself. You may follow our instructions, but you do so out of respect for our wisdom, not because you think us are greater than yourself. I am your sister and you are her brother. Do you understand?”
Oz meekly nodded, and the lightest crease appeared between Jai’s owlish eyes. Her version of a frown. “Speak, brother! No-one can do it for you.”
“I-I u-understand, Sister J-J-Jai.” Oz’s stuttering voice was high, and it cracked as he spoke, prompting Jai’s frown to become slightly more perceptible.
“You will learn to use that voice with pride, brother Oz. But first you will prove yourself to me.” Here, Jai gestured to the rows of thick trees, marching across the valley. “The Grandmaster is impressed by your tenacity. Many have made it to our monastery before, but very few do so carrying the bodies of their comrades. It shows a strong dedication to others that Raj values highly. It does now impress me, however. Raj understands the strength of loyalty, but I value the strength of ambition. You have proven you can act for others, but can you do the same for yourself?”
Her eyes were scanning Oz now, scrutinizing for any sign of doubt or fear. Oz did his best to keep her gaze.
“You are hungry, yes? And cold? Well you are lucky. Across this valley there is a cave, inside that cave there is food and warmth.” She directed his gaze towards the distant mountains. Shielding his eyes against the afternoon sun, Oz squinted at the far-off peaks. As he searched for the cave, Jai continued to speak. “These forests are hazardous, this time of year. Warmth makes the snow weak, and this weakness makes it lazy and soft. It is wet enough to slip on, but also heavy enough to weigh you down. This is a metaphor, and also a dangerous obstacle. If you are lucky, the river that cuts through this place will still be frozen, otherwise, you will be forced to swim some ways against the current”
Oz nodded, half-listening. He thought he could make out a dark crevice near the bottom of one mountain, some 25 miles off.
“If you wish for me to guide you back to Heartland House, you must arrive there before sundown.”
Oz nodded again, before his mind processed what Jai had just said. He turned, startled.
“Sundown, Sister Jai? But it’s already-” Oz froze mid sentence, staring at the place where his instructor had been moments before. In the silence, he could hear the rustle of nearby trees, dark and towering. His gaze slowly swivelled back towards the far-off cave as a hunger-pang shot through his gut. He glanced back the way they’d came as the blindfold rubbed against his neck, its purpose revealed. Without a moment’s more hesitation, he began to run for the tree-line.
***
The remainder of the day was spent slogging through thick tangles of trees. It wasn’t even below freezing in the valley, but as Jai had promised, this only made things worse. The snow was like mud after a heavy rain, somehow slick and sticky at the same time. It reached about halfway up Oz’s shins, and if he let his leather-wrapped feet drag through it for even a moment it would cling on in the form of large, dense snowballs.
All the while, he kept glancing up at the sun, glowing dully in the paled sky. Because of this he fell often, his arms, knees, and sides growing discoloured under the gentle ripening of fresh bruises, but he couldn’t help himself. His mind raced with memories of his unseen journey to the valley, of the chances of finding his way back.
At some point, his robes became tangled amongst the clawing branches of an elderly spruce, and after some moments of fruitless tugging, Oz was forced to abandon it. He carried on his journey clad in only his simple loincloth, something Grandmaster Raj had promised would someday be all he needed against the elements.
The sun had started to set by the time he came to the river, unfrozen and raging. The spring thaw had swelled its banks and strengthened its current, but as he lurched in Oz discovered it had done little to ease the frigid temperature.
The current was strong and the water went up to the boy’s waist. His every step a battle against nature’s force, and all he could hear was water’s roar. He was almost across when he slipped, and nature won out. Tumbled along in the freezing current, Oz was scraped against a bed of gravel, his back dashed against sharp stones. By the time he reached the far bank, he had completely lost his bearings.
Still, onwards he scrambled, daring not to waste even the few precious seconds to shake himself dry. This proved a vital blunder indeed, as a few minuets after leaving those flooded banks behind, the heat began to leach from his soaking skin.
As the sun dipped beneath the mountains, Oz felt the temperature drop with it. He clutched his shuddering body, knowing in the back of his mind that he had missed his deadline. Despite this, he carried on anyways, even as the night’s first snowflakes stung his back. He knew he would not be welcome in Heartland House, even if he could find the way back.
Still, that hardly seemed to matter anymore. Instead all that occupied the acolyte’s mind was the thought of the cave he’d spotted so many hours earlier. That tiny smudge in his memory glowed like a celestial beacon, now, its offer of shelter and warmth the only thing in the world that mattered.
The burning had started to wean to numbness, when Oz first heard Jizo’s voice. It was distant, but that sharp laugh was unmistakable.
“Jizo?” Oz slurred through blue lips, eyes blearily scanning the darkness, “I’m… I’m almost there, Jizo. Just… wait for me… please.” He could see Jizo now. Glimpse him between the trees, or in the reflection of moonlight on ice. He wanted so desperately to follow that voice, to scramble off into the brush and embrace his friend, but to do so would be to abandon the cave’s beacon. He was so close, now. He knew it deep in his empty, knotting guts. Once he had found it, he would go look for Jizo. Perhaps together they could find a way back…
Jai found Oz soon after, barely conscious in the snow, still crawling weakly in the direction he thought the cave was in. His fingertips were a reddish violet, his back was a network of cuts, his voice was a broken whisper.
He didn’t seem to notice, as Jai plucked him from the ground and wrapped him in her robe. The faintest smile of satisfaction played across her face as snowflakes sizzled against her broad, bare shoulders.
The first chip had been made.
Ramblings 