pekora

“False alarm everyone,” Mrs. B. announced. “Jim has pants on. I checked.” More hooting and whistling. The rest of that class is a blur, but I must have done okay. I got an A for that assignment…

Should he do it? Just forfeit the match? To admit before the crowd that their prince was too weak to fight back? After everything that had happened to him, he had no pride left, nothing to lose. Maybe it was better to accept his failure and resign himself to his shame. Lying on the ground, he raised his arm, about to surrender, but stopped, thinking back to a conversation he had with Tarnas. It was during the year of training, the two of them sitting around the campfire on an autumn night. Seraph was staring deep into the flames, into the light and warmth, but all he felt inside was cold darkness.

Eventually, he had to stop and rest, unable to complete his workout. The fact that it was so challenging meant that he was doing something right. He assumed the lotus position on the floor and began meditating to regain his strength. Now that he was no longer moving, the crushing force of the magical restraints eased, while still keeping his mana suppressed. Curious, he decided to practice his spiritual sense training. The Harajin had a method of invisibility known as Bakudan, in which they would slow the flow of their mana, near to the point of a complete halt, and that stillness would allow them to blend in with their environment, as if reality itself had overlooked them. It also helped hone one’s awareness of the ethereal.