Breathe it in, let it expand you. Feel the breath.
Let it fill you.
The breath of life is within you. Feel the breath.
Let it rise. Let it overflow.
The breath of life is without. Feel the breath.
Feel it within you expanding out.
It is in all things. A grain of sand. The rock beneath you. The tree trunk at your back. The flower petal nearby. The hum of the bee. The song of the bird. Feel the breath within you, without.
Let it fill you. Let it rise. Notice all things. Let it connect you to all that is. The breath animates all. Feel the breath.
Let your eyes close. What can you perceive? What do your ears hear? Buzzing insects? Crunching leaves? Whispering wind? Whirring motors? Children playing? Stretch beyond. The breath animates all.
How far can you reach? What’s the furthest thing you can hear? Do you perceive all? The breath animates all. Feel the breath.
- Within and Without: A Tindin Journey With Erotica
I stopped in my tracks. I'd just entered dojo 6, and Denten wasn’t in there, but a stack of books was.
And on the top of the stack was The Art and Practice of Tindin Erotica. A bit of horror rippled through me. What? Stars! Was this some weird Tindin initiation?
Get to Level 9, and we indoctrinate you with our sex rituals? Was this a sex cult? Had I missed the orgies?
Denten entered and began greeting the sun, so I joined him.
I could feel him next to me moving through the flow. He was his usual self. Breath, movement, solid, undaunted. No weird vibes. I lost myself in the morning flow. I am the breath. The breath moves me.
Lunge. Strike. Bend. Reach. Twist. Stretch.
I was supposedly a Level 9—a Niner—and I wanted to find out what that meant. Could I take Denten? Had I really become proficient enough to spar him at full strength?
He couldn’t have made me a Niner if I wasn’t good enough to spar him when he wasn't holding back, so I had to find out. I had to know what I was doing in that dojo, and if I’d really earned those beads.
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The flow came to an end. We bowed, and I struck.
I did not hold back. I did not stop. I was the breath. I was form. I was movement.
He responded. He moved. He was fast. I was faster. He was stronger, bigger, heavier. I was lighter, quicker, more limber.
It was movement. It was fury. It was dance, and we were graceful. I could feel him having fun. He wanted the challenge. and wanted to push me harder.
He said aloud, “Let go, Ryst. Drop the curtain,” and I could feel what he meant.
He didn’t want me to hold back my Talent. He wanted to see what I could do. He wanted to dance with it. Could I do that? Could I concentrate on form and movement and defense and attack with all my senses open?
I let go.
There was movement. Denten was there. He was excited, wanting to see me do it.
I could sense his movements. I knew what he was doing before he did it. I evaded easily. He couldn’t get a hold on me. I anticipated and moved in, nearly collapsing his left knee, but pulled back before I hurt him.
He took the moment to roll. I attacked. He defended. I knew what he was doing before he did it, and his breaths came quicker. Denten loved the challenge.
She is the wind. I cannot touch the wind. She is the wind, he thought, delighted.
He thought about the books on the other side of the room.
I pushed out a feeling of confusion.
The Erotica, is this the time?
It bothers you? Why does this bother you? Intimacy is part of life. I felt him more than heard him. It wasn't words, but it felt like words. I just knew what he was thinking, inside me.
But I don’t want to be thinking about that when I’m sparring. What kind of weird rituals does Tindin have? I sent back.
I felt his humor. He wanted me to know about the Erotica. I had asked about the Durstahngnat, hadn’t I? What was the reason to avoid it?
I pushed back. Why would I discuss this? It's a personal, private thing. Not something I want to go around talking to people about. Is this what Shurwinn do?
Dodge. Strike. Shift. Lunge.
We are open about sex. Ask any question. There is nothing to be ashamed about; it's part of life. It is part of the breath. The breath moves us and creates us. We breathe it in and give it shape. I am a man. I am a father. There is no shame in it.
He dodged my kick, but kept up the lecture internally.
Are you not an obgyneca? Do you not deliver babies? How can you help patients if you do not see them naked? Do you not discuss sexual matters with them? Are you not objective as a medica? Do you not have experience separating intimate, personal matters from objective conversation? I am not ashamed to be a man and a father. I am not ashamed to have done The Art and Practice of Tindin Erotica.
And the interesting thing was, I heard— felt—his mind fully. But I wasn’t seeing actual sexual things he had done or felt. I wasn’t seeing him with his wife making babies.
I wasn’t feeling anything from him other than a nonchalant, matter-of-fact teacher talking to a student about a book. A book he knew and had no shame in discussing.
This gave me freedom, and I wasn’t afraid or embarrassed. I didn’t feel like I was invading his mind or getting private information. I wasn’t doing anything bad.
He was right. I was an obgyneca. I touched naked people all the time, and it wasn't sexual; it was clinical. There was a difference between intimacy with a lover and physical examinations.
And I suddenly didn’t care anymore.
I didn’t care if he knew I read the book. I didn’t care that I could hear his thoughts. Because it didn’t matter. He was comfortable with me and trusted me, and I trusted him.
Denten didn’t want to hurt me. He saw me as a granddaughter who might have questions, and he was willing to answer if I wanted to ask. That was all. It was simple. He was just making himself available.
So we danced. And danced. And danced. We slowed, both panting.
My arms were getting heavy. How long could I keep going? I was faster than him, but I couldn’t keep it up much longer. It was getting dangerous.
We were grappling when we both paused, and I felt him relax the same moment I did.
“Yield,” we both said at the same time.
“Clothes maketh man, as do memories a lived man. Memories are the companions of man's soul; as such, together they begin, grow and flourish. And later, together, they fall.”
What to expect from GoSW, a fantasy based on reality:
- Reluctant hero
- Slow-burn with in-depth character building
- Simple power system with infinite possibilities
- Multiple POVs
- Action, with a side of strategy
- Slice-of-life, school life and romance elements
- Dialogue-driven narrative