The Heart Fountain

 
Waiting
I’ve been training for almost a month.
And I haven’t seen a tournament.

Today she asks me to wait again.
“Two more months, Neebol.”

“Why, Master Vala?”
She glares at me.
(Just yesterday she asked me to stop calling her Master.)

“In the tournament,” she says, “the moving energies seem visible to physical eyes.”
“But the most amazing aspects are hidden.”

“In two months, you’ll be able to see the hidden energies.”
“The tournament will be a thousand times more beautiful.”

“I want your first tournament to be extraordinary, Neebol”
“You’ll always remember it, even after you become Gen.”

I’m quiet, and unhappy.
She frowns.

“I’ll reward you for your patience, Neebol.”

“The third-level class you’re taking will be your last group class.”
“And starting right now, our private sessions will be more intense.”

“I’ll show you the most amazing things.”
“Things I didn’t plan to teach you for another year.”

She takes my hands and smiles.

“I’ll wait for the tournament,” I say quietly.

 
Fortress
I walk by the round stadium with its high clear dome.
The stone walls, 200 feet high, glow and sparkle.

The stadium stands as a fortress now.
There are no doors in the high walls.

One hour before and after the tournaments, the walls open in a dozen places, with 20 foot archways.
During the tournaments, and the rest of the month, there is no way inside.

I run my hands over the smooth stone.
This stone always feels warm to the touch, whatever the weather.
And there’s a pleasant current of energy that runs through my hands.

The thin, green band of color on my right wrist thickens and glows brightly.

Enter the archways, or touch the walls without the entrance band, and you pass out.

The stadium stands apart from the rest of the city, surrounded by gardens and orchards.
And warning signs.

Few people touch the walls by accident.

It’s a wonderfully quiet, peaceful place.
Except during the tournaments.

This morning, and most mornings, just before dawn, I walk around the stadium.
Hoping its walls will open for a moment so I can at least see the inside.

It’s been three months, and three tournaments, since Vala gave me the entrance band.
I’ve missed all three tournaments.

 
Phantoms
Today, I meet with Vala early in the morning, after my walk.
I hope that she will give me permission to go the next tournament.

Instead, I’m disappointed, again.

“It’s not safe for you to enter the stadium,” she says.

My skills grow at amazing speed.
But there’s a catch.

“Right now, Neebol, you’re oversensitive to shape changing energy,” says Vala.
“Go to the tournaments, and you may lose your physical form.”
“And without it, you die.”

“How long, Vala?” I ask.
“Another six months.”

I aim for the wall in frustration.
And my hand passes through, as the world disappears.

Beginning students don’t melt their physical bodies into another shape or substance.
It’s difficult, and dangerous.

It’s hard to hold your awareness when you reshape your body to other forms.
And if you let go of all physical form, you die.

So beginners learn how to move the body, or part of it, out of phase with the rest of the world.

It becomes invisible.
Untouchable.

And blind to the ordinary physical world.
Our physical senses can’t overcome the phase difference.

So we learn how to sense the world from our energy bodies.

And we learn to build a shell.

We transform nearby energy or matter into a living or non-living physical form.
Then we attach our awareness to this shell, so we can control the shell.

I move my phantom hand away from the wall, and bring my body back into phase with the world.

 
Life
“Calm down, Neebol,” she says.
“When you get mad, you lose control.”

“Vala, why do you spend so much time with me?” I ask, angrily.

“You’re an incredible student, Neebol,” she answers, surprised.
“I love teaching you.”

“Is that all?”
She looks troubled.

“I like you Neebol.”
“More than as a student.”

“But you’re young.”
“And you haven’t lived yet.”

“You’re moving too fast toward becoming a Gen.”
“Lead a normal life first.”

“Find a girl, and have a family.”

“How can I think about girls,” I say, “when all I do is compare them to you.”

“We are not having this conversation!” she says.

“Then answer me this question, Vala!” I say angrily.
“Why do the Gen stay in this world?”

“Do you want us to leave?” she asks.

“No,” I answer.
“I’m just surprised that you stay here.”

“Most Gen stay.” she says, “because they can’t let go of their old lives.”
“With familiar places, family, and life.”

“They want the power of being Gen.”
“And they still want their old life.

“Some stay to feel like gods.”
“These are the most dangerous.”

“Some stay to teach the ways of melting.”
“And protect the people from arrogant Gen.”

“And some stay for the tournament.”

“Why do you stay, Vala?” I ask

“I’m waiting for something, Nibol.”
“When I find it, I’ll leave this world.”

 
Slow Ones
Vala pushes me hard in our sessions the next 6 months.
Sometimes I don’t recognize myself, when I see what I can do.

She tries to be cold with me, but sometimes she can’t help but smile.

I always thought that I wanted a family and a regular life.
I would give it all up for her.

I show the special ticket at the gate.
The guard gives me a strange look, but he lets me pass.

The stadium is huge and beautiful.
And I have incredible seats.

I sit in a section reserved for the Gen.

Some of the Gen like to take on physical bodies for a day, a week, or a month.
There’s about two dozen of the Gen, sitting in this special section, waiting for the tournament to begin.

“What are you doing here?” one of them asks, clearly unhappy.

He’s huge.
He looks like flesh and blood, but I can see beneath it, and know that he is Gen.

He could crush me with barely a thought.
And he would enjoy it.

“Vala is my teacher,” I answer.
“She asked me to sit here.”

I show him the ticket.
“You stole it, probably,” he says with contempt, and turns my ticket into fire.

Vala comes then.
“Leave him alone, Dikan.”
“He’s my guest.”

Vala takes my hand, and we sit down.
But Dikan is not finished

“Is he your pet, Vala?”
“He’s just a dirty, slow one.”

I’m insulted and angry.

Many Gen are proud and arrogant, and delight in calling us slow ones.

Gen use this name for we who are still trapped in our physical bodies.
Weighed down by our frozen shapes.

Compared to Gen, our actions, thoughts and feelings barely move.
Even when Gen tie their spirits to physical form, they still think and move a hundred times faster.

He moves to hit me at extraordinary speed.
And I move aside, just in time.

With my training, my energy body has changed slightly.
And my physical body can borrow power from the energy body.

This brings mental and physical speed, along with other possibilities.

“How?” Dikan asks.
“He’s at twelfth level,” she says.
“Maybe past it.”

“He’s a baby,” Dikan shouts.
“How can he get to twelfth level so fast?”

“Didn’t you hear the rumors, Dikan, about the one who sees the towers?”
“This is him.”

Dikan’s face grows even darker, now full of hate and envy.

“For all his tricks, he’s nothing until the birthing!”
“And he can’t go through the birthing if he’s dead!”

This time he comes at me with all of his strength and speed.
I can’t get out of the way, but I can phase out.
And I put up a shell of steel.

He breaks his hand, and screams in pain.
He reshapes the healthy body in a moment.

A massive burst of energy comes at me, in phase with my phantom body.
But it never reaches me.

And Dikan is gone.

“Where did he go?” I ask Vala.
“Did you kill him?”

“He would have killed you,” she says, clearly upset.
“I had to protect you.”

“Gen are nearly indestructible,” she says.
“But I sent him to a dark and bitter place.”

“He lives, but there is no coming back to this world, from where he’s gone.”

 
Waiting for Love
“I’ve broken Gen law!” she says.

She’s breathing heavily. clearly upset.

“You’re so upset because you exiled Dikan?” I ask.
She turns to me.

“No, Neebol.”
“Because you almost died.”

“I’m sorry,” she says.
“But it’s not safe for you among the Gen right now.”

“Come with me,” she says, and takes my hand.

We walk out of the stadium, and sit in the orchards.
I watch the walls.
When the tournament starts, the archways disappear.

She still holds my hand.
“When the tournament ends,” she says, “they will come to judge me.”

We sit there quietly holding hands.
We speak little.

The hour passes, the walls open, and the stadium empties.
Then the walls close again.
The area is quiet.

A few seconds later, the world darkens for a moment.

Vala and I are back in the stadium.
Sitting in the same area as before.

And seven Gen are arranged in a semi-circle in front of us.

Other Gen come and tell what they saw.
Then the judges ask each of us questions.

They seem to look at me for a long time.
“Are you ready for justice, Vala?” they ask.

She nods.

They are quiet for a while.
“They have connected their thoughts together to pass judgment,” she whispers.

A few minutes later, they speak.
“You are the oldest of all of us on this world, Vala.”
“You could have stoped Dikan without exiling him.”

“And this one, Neebol, though he has done nothing wrong, is too powerful to remain flesh.”
“Gen do not like it when the slow ones become too strong.”

“Therefore, hear our judgment, Vala.”
“Neebol will go through birthing without you.”

“But he has barely lived!” says Vala.

The judge ignores her and continues.
“And for twenty cycles you will not speak with him.”

Vala cries.

“No,” I say.
“I will not go through birthing with anyone but her.”

“Then you will probably die,” says one of the judges.

“If you come to the tournament, you will be in danger.”
“And even if you stay away, Gen may pursue you.”

“I have an alternative,” says Vala.
“I’ll tie myself to flesh for 20 cycles, and protect him.”

“Explain,” I say.

She turns to me.
“I’ll tie my energies to this physical body for 20 cycles,” she says.
“And I’ll watch over you.”

“Will you bond with me, Neebol?” she asks.
“It’s the only way that I can watch over you day and night.”

“You’re doing this just to protect me?” I ask.
“I can’t bond with you like that.”

“No, Neebol.”
“I want to be with you.”
“Not just protect you.”

“This is the closest you can get to a normal life now,” she says.
“Everything but children.”

“I can’t have children.”

“What about the training?” I ask.

“We’ll continue the training.”
“Then, in 20 cycles, I’ll lead you through the birthing.”

I take both her hands, and kiss them.
“Yes,” I say without hesitating.

Vala turns to the judges.
“Is this acceptable?” she asks them.

After a few minutes they answer.
“We don’t like relationships between Gen and the slow ones,” they say.
“But he will be Gen soon enough.”

“Take him, and do as you say.”

We find ourselves in the middle of the city, far from the stadium.

The green entrance band on my wrist has turned black.
“What does this mean, Vala?” I ask, showing her the black band.

“It will keep you out of the stadium.”
“Touch the stadium walls, or try to enter, and you’ll die,” she says.

I think of the stadium for a moment, and I feel sad.

“I’ve made you wait again, Neebol,” she says.
“This time, twenty cycles!”

“I don’t care about the tournament,” I say, and smile.
“I’d give up the tournament forever, to be with you.”

“Then come, Neebol,” she says.
“There’s a lot to do.”

“Training?”

She laughs, and takes my hand.
“First we plan our bonding ceremony,” she says.

“Then we train.”