Twinned Destinies Chapter 86. The Ice Tribe (III) (Patreon)

Ruyi thought as she chewed off another chunk of meat—a tough one, rough in her mouth, and stringy and turgid with blood; it didn’t go down easy. It was a part of the frost drake’s heart.

Did she like it here? Sure. She did—a lot… If she stayed here, what would it mean? Could this really be a new home? She blinked over the throng of laughing, chewing, back-slapping, chattering Demon Kings. They seemed so happy here. Could she really be one of them? And then… maybe come to love them, and be loved by them, and… grow old?

She couldn’t get the heart down. It was too swollen in her mouth, and it had the mouth-feel of plastic. She tried swallowing but she keeled over a little, choking on it. She had to spit it out onto the snow; it flopped there lifelessly, one mangled dark-red mess. She couldn’t do it, she couldn’t, it was too loud, the sounds felt like they were pressing on the insides of her head—Livia was watching her, so was Drusila. They were all so close to her, so close she could feel the heat of them washing over her, choking her. She couldn’t take it anymore. She tried to stand, but Drusila caught her by the arm and she flinched.

“Calm, girl,” said the woman. “Calm. You’re safe here. You’re among friends.”

Ruyi rattled in a breath, blinking fast. She hadn’t even realized how badly she’d been panicking. Feeling stupid, she sat herself back down, and swallowed.

Miserably she shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she croaked. “I can’t.”

She didn’t know what was wrong with her. She really wanted a drink.

“Don’t apologize,” said Drusila. “You’ve done nothing wrong. It is not wrong to reject an offer.”

She felt guilty anyways. “Will you kick me out now?”

“You’re our guest,” said Drusila. “Stay with us as long as you like. That is my promise to you.”

Ruyi stared at her feet.

She should want this, she knew she should want this, but just the thought of staying here made her feel so scared she felt she might burst. This place wasn’t right for her. She wasn’t sure what it was, and then she saw how kindly Livia was smiling at her, and she felt horrible. She had to get out of here—she didn’t know where.

“Why don’t you go with Sabina?” said Drusila. She gestured to the Warriors’ table; they were standing, finished with their meals. “I’m told you’re a fighter. Perhaps some fighting will soothe you. It always soothes me.”

Numbly, Ruyi nodded. She didn’t want to, really, but Drusila was so nice to her. She would’ve felt bad for saying no, even worse than she did now. So when Drusila called Sabina over, Ruyi went along.

***

“Ah,” sighed Sabina, smiling wildly as they trudged through the snow. “What a wonderful morning. Then—every morning is wonderful, in its way. Is it not?”

“Mhm,” said Ruyi.

Most of the warriors had gone on ahead. Sabina and Ruyi were at the very back—Sabina was here to babysit her. The rest were marching along, breaths frosting, smiling, playfully shoving each other while they stood apart. Ruyi stared at them. It made her feel worse, but she couldn’t seem to look away. They were so happy.

They got to the training grounds, this cleared-out stretch of field in the inner circle. Sabina marched Ruyi out to the front, despite Ruyi’s many feeble protests.

“This is Ruyi Yang!” Sabina announced. “She is a guest of the tribe. She is fierce. She is powerful. She has within her a Calamity. She does us the honor of joining our training today.”

Ruyi felt neither fierce nor powerful, but she smiled weakly anyways at the crowd of blue-streaked faces. She was shocked they cheered for her.

“Spread out!” called Sabina. “We begin with forms. First form, Solid.”

They shouted as one, then squatted low, making circles with their feet, arms pushing out, retracting. They made of their bodies slow-moving rivers. With the frost essence pouring off them Ruyi was reminded of the White River in winter, crusted up with ice, sloughing ponderously forward.

“Here,” said Sabina to Ruyi. “Follow me. Up through the Beta Node, circle the Gamma, down the Alpha.”

“I don’t know what those are,” said Ruyi. She was so useless—it was so clear she wasn’t one of them and she would never be. She just didn’t belong here. Maybe she’d belonged somewhere, once, but that Junius was right. That was before and she’d never get it back again. She was beating herself up again; she knew it, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. It felt bad, but also perversely good, or at least right.

“That’s okay,” said Sabina. “Up through the left leg then, up the knees, through the chest, down the other leg. Do you understand?”

“Mhm,” said Ruyi.

Then came the most grueling half hour of her life. She tried to get it through her foot, but the stars scattered whenever she grabbed for them. Frustrated, she grabbed harder, managed to wrench a little up her leg, but she could never make a full circle; they fled like water from her grasp. Everyone else moved onto the second form, Melting Flow. Their movements grew wilder, flowed faster, and thin sheets of ice sloughed off them as they moved. But Ruyi couldn’t even get through the first.

“Patience,” said Sabina. “You try too hard.”

“I can’t,” wailed Ruyi. She plopped herself on the snow and buried her face in her hands.

“Ru-yi?” Sabina’s mystified voice. “Is there a problem with your stomach? Was the food bad?”

“I can’t,” said Ruyi again in a tiny voice. “I can’t.”

A dreadful silence. Then—“Hmm,” said Sabina. “That’s alright! Very few can on their first day. You will get it.”

A shadow fell across Ruyi’s face. It was Sabina’s hand, held out to her. Sabina was smiling. “If you like, I can train you after, privately. It would be my pleasure.”   “Why are you being so nice to me?” sniffled Ruyi, blinking up at her.

Sabina seemed confused. “You are a guest of the tribe,” she said, like that explained it. At Ruyi’s blank expression— “It is our duty to treat guests as we would our own. If one of us needs help, any tribesman, the others lift them up. Is this not how humans do?”

“No,” said Ruyi softly.

“Why are your eyes red? Have you been stung in the face of late?”

“I’m okay,” she said as she took Sabina’s hand and got up. “Um. Thank you. I’ll be okay.”

“Good girl,” said Sabina, and she ruffled Ruyi’s head. Her smile was so warm, so full of good cheer, Ruyi felt it warm in her heart. For a second she thought maybe things really would be okay.

“Forms finish!” called Sabina. “Make the circle.”

The warriors bellowed as one, then spread out as she commanded, making a loose circle about thirty strides across.

“Who wishes to go first?” said Sabina.

“I shall!” A man burst out into the circle’s center. He was squat but big; he had forearms thicker than Ruyi’s torso.

“Rufus! And who shall you challenge?”

Ruyi knew before he even looked at her—somehow she had this sinking feeling it’d be her, and sure enough, the man looked straight at her and smiled at her. Not an unkind smile—she could’ve said it was playful. “It shall fight the little Calamity, if she would do me the honor.”

Sabina looked to Ruyi. “Do you—”

“I’ll fight him.”

“Then I shall be your second,” said Sabina.

Rufus walked over, his second lingering behind. He thumped his chest. “Well met, Ruyi.”

She frowned at him. She didn’t want to fight him. She didn’t think challenging her like this was very kind. She wouldn’t thump her chest with him. Then she saw how everyone else was looking at her.

“If you do not wish to fight,” said the man uncertainly. “We need not.”

“Ah—Ru-yi, it is tradition to begin each match touching hearts,” said Sabina. “In battle we are hateful, but in life we are loving. When we spar, we begin and end with love. This is sacred. You go to war with enemies hateful. But with friends you must start with love, or we do not spar at all.”

Ruyi wasn’t sure what she meant, but everyone was still staring at her, expecting, and in the end she raised her fist and limply tapped her heart.

This man Rufus raised his fists at her. He seemed to want her to tap them. She did. Then they split off to their separate sides. He was limbering up, drawing circles with his arms, his brilliant blue essence washing through him in loops, hazing his skin where it went, brimming with life. She stood there staring. She shouldn’t have said yes. It was her dumb pride that did it. Now he was going to beat her up in front of everyone.

What was he doing? He clasped his hands together, eyes closed, breathed out a lungful of shimmering blue essence. “It is tradition to pray to a hell-devil before a battle, that they may grant you victory,” intoned Sabina.

Ruyi didn’t. She didn’t know any devils other than that Nyx. And she didn’t need anyone but herself. She would win or lose on her own—that was how it always was.

Rufus finished up; his hands unclasped.

“Tribesman Rufus, ‘Fist of the Setting Sun!’ Are you ready?” called Sabina.  Rufus gave a shout.

“Ruyi Yang! Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” mumbled Ruyi.

“Begin!”