CHAPTER 19: FOUR MONTHS

Joe's life gradually settled into a routine.

He woke before sunrise, ate whatever small amount was available at home and walked to the Talent Hall with Simon. They usually spent the first part of the journey together, although Simon did most of the talking.

Some mornings he complained about the cold. Other mornings he discussed whoever had performed well in the dynamic group the previous day, usually with enough detail that Joe knew more about the argument than the actual training.

Once they entered the Hall, however, they separated.

Simon went toward the dynamic training area.

Joe joined the static group.

The two groups remained apart for most of the day. Senior trainees occasionally crossed into the beginner section when Hall needed extra help correcting stances, but Joe rarely saw the actual dynamic methods.

That separation was deliberate.

Beginners were expected to concentrate on what they were ready to learn instead of staring at advanced movements and convincing themselves that imitation was understanding.

Joe did not mind.

He had enough difficulty with six stationary stances.

During the first month, his training still looked exactly like what it was: beginner training.

He remembered every correction Hall gave him, but remembering did not strengthen muscles that had never held those positions before. His legs shook, his breathing lost rhythm under fatigue and his hips drifted even when Joe knew perfectly well where they were supposed to be.

Sometimes the problem was not knowledge at all.

He knew what the correct position should feel like and still could not force an exhausted muscle to maintain it.

No Regression preserved genuine improvement once he earned it.

It did not remove the work required to make that improvement.

A month of training changed him, though not dramatically. His legs became stronger, his balance improved and maintaining the required breathing rhythm became less difficult. He could hold the stances longer before fatigue began pulling them apart, and the assistants no longer had to repeat every basic correction each day.

Mike's medicinal paste helped during those early weeks as well.

Joe had no reliable way to separate the effects of training, Perfect Health, Perfect Body, Hall meals and the medicine, so he refused to credit every improvement to his own ability.

Medicine was simply another advantage.

By the second month, it was gone.

Training continued without it.

That gave Joe a better comparison.

His recovery remained unusually good because of Perfect Health and Perfect Body, but the medicinal support had clearly contributed something. Without it, difficult training days felt slightly heavier. His appetite became more noticeable, and sometimes he needed considerably more food before his body felt completely recovered.

The difference was not enormous.

It was real.

That experience made the complaints of older students about resources much easier to understand.

By the second month, Joe could enter all six static positions without constantly checking another student for reference. His movements were still deliberate rather than instinctive, and Hall continued correcting him, but those corrections had become less frequent and increasingly detailed.

The harder problem remained blood energy.

During the first month, Joe sensed nothing he trusted.

There was heat in his legs, pressure in tired muscles and a stronger heartbeat after holding a stance, but all of those things existed in ordinary exercise.

He had no intention of calling them blood energy simply because he wanted progress.

During the second month, however, something began changing.

After his breathing settled and he maintained a position correctly for long enough, Joe occasionally noticed a faint warmth that seemed different from ordinary exertion.

The sensation was inconsistent.

Sometimes it appeared.

Sometimes it did not.

Joe refused to name it yet.

By the third month, the sensation became easier to reproduce.

It appeared most clearly when both posture and breathing were correct. If his stance deteriorated badly, the feeling weakened or disappeared.

At times it felt less like heat and more like a faint pressure or fullness beneath the skin.

That was enough for Joe to finally ask one of the senior assistants.

He described the sensation as carefully as he could instead of simply asking whether he had sensed blood energy.

The older trainee listened.

"You're probably beginning to feel it."

Joe looked at him.

"Probably?"

The trainee smiled.

"When you really sense it clearly, you won't need me to tell you."

That answer was irritatingly reasonable.

Hall gave him almost the same response later.

"Don't rush to name every sensation. Clarity comes with practice."

So Joe practiced.

By the fourth month, the difference between his first week and his current ability was obvious.

He could hold the stances longer, his breathing remained stable through a greater portion of the exercise and his posture deteriorated much later under fatigue. The senior assistants no longer stopped beside him every few minutes.

None of that made him advanced.

He had not reached minor success.

He was nowhere near being allowed into the dynamic foundation.

Joe was simply a beginner who had progressed unusually well during his first four months.

Only then did he begin making cautious comparisons.

Simon had taken roughly three years to complete the static foundation.

Most ordinary village students seemed to fall somewhere around the same range, while trainees with better resources often progressed faster.

Joe heard of several who had completed the static stage in a little more than two years. Exceptional children with strong family support had apparently done better than that, although the stories became less reliable the more impressive they sounded.

Joe considered his own position.

He had entered the Hall already physically prepared.

Perfect Body improved coordination.

Perfect Health improved recovery.

No Regression meant that genuine corrections, once learned, did not gradually slip backward.

For the first several weeks, he had also received medicinal support that Simon had never possessed during his own first year.

Even Joe's adult mind mattered, though not because it somehow made him naturally talented at martial arts. It helped him listen carefully, tolerate repetition and avoid wasting effort chasing every exciting sensation.

Taken together, those advantages were substantial.

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Two years for the static foundation seemed comfortably possible if nothing unusual happened.

A year and a half might be achievable.

Joe did not assume anything faster.

Early improvements in posture did not guarantee equally fast progress in sensing blood energy, and the medicine that had supported his first several weeks was already gone.

His rate of improvement might slow considerably later.

Joe preferred useful estimates over flattering ones.

Still, compared with Simon's first months, he was clearly ahead.

That was not surprising.

Simon entered the Hall at seven as an ordinary child with no preparation beyond village life.

Joe had entered with decades of memory, years of deliberate physical preparation, temporary medicinal support and three talents affecting his learning, health and body.

Treating those starting points as equal would make no sense.

The Hall provided other useful comparisons as well.

Among the older trainees, Alex stood out.

He was fifteen and one of the village elder's grandsons, which also made him a younger relative of Theodere. His family was among the wealthiest in Green Hollow, and unlike Simon, Alex had received good food and medicinal support throughout most of his training.

He had reached late Skin Tempering.

That placed him well above most trainees his age.

A girl from another village and a boy from another settlement had both reached middle Skin Tempering, while four additional trainees were in the initial stage.

Seven body-tempering trainees in total.

Those seven received noticeably more respect than everyone else.

Even Simon became somewhat quieter around them.

Not silent.

Joe doubted anything short of unconsciousness would accomplish that.

But quieter.

The reason was obvious enough.

Strength was easy to recognize.

The backgrounds of those seven trainees also confirmed something Joe had already suspected.

Most had resources.

Only two came from ordinary village households without significant family support, and both had entered Skin Tempering later than the wealthier trainees.

The difference became clearer when Joe looked at the full progression timeline.

An ordinary child entered at seven.

Static foundation might take around three years.

Dynamic foundation generally requires another two to two and a half.

That meant many village trainees did not begin Skin Tempering until around twelve.

Poorer children faced an additional disadvantage if they entered the Hall unable to read. During their first years, two hours of each morning disappeared into literacy instruction while students like Joe could use more of that time for physical training and practice.

Once an average trainee finally reached Skin Tempering, only around four years remained before the Hall stopped supporting them at sixteen.

A well-funded student could alter that schedule considerably.

If better nutrition, medicinal meals and consistent recovery reduced the static foundation to a little over two years and the dynamic foundation to perhaps a year and a half, that child could begin body tempering years ahead of an ordinary trainee.

Those extra years mattered.

The advantage did not remain fixed.

It accumulated.

Better food supported better recovery. Better recovery allowed more consistent training. Earlier progress gave the trainee more time at the next stage, and more time at higher stages opened access to more knowledge, stronger employment prospects and better resources.

Joe recognized the pattern from his previous life easily enough.

Money did not purchase martial ability directly.

It purchased chances.

Within a system where Hall support ended at sixteen, those chances became extremely valuable.

Sixteen was the ordinary deadline, but promising trainees did not necessarily wait that long before seeking opportunities in Blackwood.

A strong student could apparently request an assessment from around fourteen onward.

That gave the best trainees more than one chance if the first attempt failed.

Alex was expected to test early.

Rumors around the Hall went further.

Some students believed he might be taken directly as a squire under Blackwood's Guard Captain rather than entering as an ordinary guard.

Theodere was supposedly friendly with the captain.

Joe treated that part cautiously.

"Friendly" in village gossip could mean anything from childhood friendship to having shared a drink twice over ten years.

The practical result mattered more.

The town guard offered much more than wages.

A position in Blackwood meant access to the town itself, further martial instruction, food, resources, status and connections that ordinary farming children could never develop while remaining in Green Hollow.

For a village trainee, selection could change the entire course of adulthood.

Joe understood why families were willing to sacrifice animals, silver and even land for martial training.

He also understood Theodere's ten-year salary arrangement better than he had before entering the Hall.

Theodere was not merely teaching children a collection of exercises.

He was providing the inheritance and connections through which a few of them could leave village life behind.

During those same months, Joe also learned the truth about the squat building Simon had once called equipment storage.

Simon had not exactly been wrong.

Equipment was stored in the front.

The rear portion was mostly a library.

Access was restricted.

The books inside covered martial theory, anatomy, medicinal herbs and written inheritance extending through Muscle Tempering.

Joe learned that from one of the older students after seeing Hall unlock the inner room.

"Can anyone use it?" Joe asked.

The trainee laughed.

"Not you."

"I assumed that."

"Then why ask?"

"To learn when."

The older boy considered him for a moment.

"Usually after minor success in both foundations. Hall has to approve it."

That requirement made sense.

A trainee who could not yet deliberately move blood energy gained little from detailed instructions about Skin or Muscle Tempering. At best, the material would be useless.

At worst, an ambitious child might attempt something far beyond his preparation and injure himself.

Joe added the library to his future plans.

There was no reason to obsess over it yet.

For now, his entire martial world consisted of six static stances, their six breathing patterns and a faint sensation he was not yet willing to call fully controlled blood energy.

That was enough.

His daily schedule remained simple.

Training began early.

Breakfast came around ten.

Then more training until lunch at roughly two, followed by additional practice until sometime after three.

Simon joined him during meals whenever their schedules aligned.

On Saturdays, Simon received one meal from the medicinal canteen because of his literacy work.

For the first few weeks, Joe heard about every one.

"The meat today was actually soft," Simon said one Saturday while they walked home. "Not like the free canteen where you have to chew long enough to reconsider whether you're hungry. The broth was better too. You can feel the warmth all the way down after you drink it."

"You said that last week."

"It was a different broth."

"Was it?"

Simon hesitated.

"The meat was definitely different."

By the fourth week, even Simon began running out of new descriptions.

Joe was grateful.

The medicinal meal probably did help him.

Joe now understood enough about recovery to believe that.

One meal per week, however, was not an important advantage.

Consistency was.

Wealthier students receive medicinal food every day.

A single good meal helped.

Hundreds of good meals changed the conditions under which someone trained.

Weeks became months, and training gradually stopped feeling unusual.

So did exhaustion.

Joe finally understood why Simon had become less useful in the fields after entering the Hall.

By the time they returned home after three in the afternoon, both boys were tired enough that ordinary chores felt considerably less attractive than they had in the morning.

Simon usually rested first.

Joe continued checking his fish traps whenever time and weather allowed.

Fishing had started years earlier as entertainment, curiosity and a way to bring something extra home.

Now the nutritional value mattered more.

The Hall provided two meals each day, but training increased both boys' appetites dramatically. Their household produced enough grain and vegetables, while beans were common enough.

Eggs, fish and meat were harder to provide consistently.

Joe could tolerate that better than Simon.

Perfect Health and Perfect Body seemed to protect Joe from lingering minor strain and helped him recover unusually well.

Simon had no such advantage.

Joe did not know whether extra protein or better nutrition could prevent the hidden injuries Hall had warned about.

He was careful not to assume that.

Still, better food obviously supported recovery.

A few additional fish were useful.

Lily never complained when Joe came home carrying them.

She complained about the mud.

She complained about the smell.

She complained if he returned later than expected.

The fish themselves were welcome.

One evening Joe came home with three small but usable fish and found Simon sitting near the hearth with his legs stretched out.

Lily took the fish from Joe and examined them.

"You're cleaning these."

"I know."

"And outside."

"I know."

"Last time you left scales near the water jar."

"That was Simon."

Simon looked over.

"It was not."

Joe stared at him.

Simon stared back.

Lily interrupted before the argument could develop.

"I don't care who did it. If I find scales there again, both of you clean the whole floor."

Simon immediately returned to resting.

Joe took the fish outside.

Mike came around the side of the house while Joe was cleaning the second one.

"You caught those today?"

"Yes."

Mike crouched briefly and looked at them.

"Good."

He glanced toward the house, where Simon could be heard complaining to Mary about something.

"Catch more if you can. That boy eats like the pig now."

From inside came Simon's voice.

"I heard that!"

Mike grinned.

Joe did too.

That sounded more like his father than some carefully worded observation about Joe planning nutrition.

Mike did not understand proteins, recovery or long-term training loads.

He understood that both sons were hungry all the time and fish were free if Joe caught them.

That was enough.

Over those four months, Joe's understanding of Talent Hall gradually changed.

Before entering, martial training had been something mysterious that Simon disappeared every morning.

Now the broad structure has made sense.

Joe understood where money mattered, why the age limit mattered and how few students reached body tempering before their time at the Hall ended.

He understood why access to the library was restricted and why Blackwood occupied so much of the older trainees' attention.

There were still enormous gaps.

Joe knew almost nothing about true martial artists.

He did not know what came after Internal Organ Tempering.

He had no idea whether Theodere's comments about longer life and immortality were truth, exaggeration or some mixture of both.

Spiritual calligraphy remained almost entirely mysterious.

The inheritance contract was even worse.

Knowing more had mostly shown Joe how much remained unknown.

That was still progress.

Deepwinter gradually settled over Green Hollow.

Cold winds moved through the valley; frost remained on shaded ground well into the morning and the river became less pleasant to visit.

One evening, after returning from the Hall, Joe went behind the house and found the tree he had used for years to keep track of time.

Joseph had eventually stopped complaining about the marks.

Possibly because he had forgotten the original argument.

Joe counted them.

Then counted again.

His eighth birthday should arrive sometime during the following week.

He remained beside the tree for a while.

Four months had passed since he entered the Talent Hall.

His martial progress was good, but he remained at the beginning.

His plans were equally incomplete.

Eventually, he would need resources.

He wanted access to the Hall library.

He wanted to complete the static foundation faster than average without damaging himself.

Sean's lesson had made him curious about calligraphy.

Blackwood remained the farthest place he could currently imagine reaching with any realistic plan, and even that town represented only a tiny part of a world he barely understood.

There were too many directions he might eventually take.

Trying to plan all of them now seemed premature.

His birthdays had already changed his life more than once.

At one, Past Life Memory had returned everything he used to be.

At two, Perfect Health and Perfect Body appeared.

At four, No Regression had fundamentally changed the value of every skill he learned afterward.

Five, six and seven had brought nothing.

Joe had no idea whether eight would be different.

Only a week remained.

There was little reason to design elaborate plans before he knew.

For now, he will continue training.

Then he would turn eight.

After that, he could decide what came next.