Chapter 53: 5-4 Scattered

Scattered 5.4

2000, October 19: Washington, DC, USA

I roused myself at the same time as always just as the first light of dawn peaked past the Potomac. It wasn't long before I graduated from the martial arts katas I'd started with. Over the course of months, I'd engraved every last movement into my mind and body until they became a part of my instinctive reaction. I could now confidently say that I was no longer a Shojin acolyte and though I wasn't much better, I at least wouldn't feel like an embarrassment if I were to demonstrate before them.

"Door, training ground," I said with a smile.

That was a new change. I wasn't firing off ki blasts like Goku or anything, but I was stronger and faster than any normal martial artist had any right to be. It had gotten to the point where I could no longer practice in my living room for fear of punching a hole through the couch or knocking over the TV. So, I made alternate arrangements.

A portal swirled in front of me, leading me to Cauldron's earth.

I swallowed down a gasp of wonder. The Salar de Uyuni took my breath away each time I saw it. It was the "flattest place on earth," and also the largest salt flat in the world at more than three thousand nine hundred square miles. A thin layer of water turned the whole place into the world's largest mirror.

On Earth-Aleph, the Bolivian government and UNESCO considered it a world heritage site and access meant going through all the hoops of tourism that implied. On Earth-Bet, it was rendered all but inaccessible thanks to the constant warring between cartels and the Bolivian government. Last I heard, some colors-based shaker kept transmuting salt to pure cocaine. Because they were both white… Powers were such bullshit…

Here? Here it was as pristine as mother nature left it.

I had to admit, it was the perfect place to practice some magic kenpo. Something about the wide, flat land and the seemingly infinite reflection of the cloudless skies above made me feel weightless. It captured the imagination and opened the heart in a way I couldn't quite explain. There were many such breathtaking vistas across Ionia, but I was glad to find that Earth wasn't devoid of them either.

"Thank you, Doormaker, Clairvoyant," I told them. I promised I'd do something nice for them sometime. Did they accept cupcakes?

I took a few deep breaths to center myself and got to work. I wore only a pair of pants and relished in the feel of the water beneath my feet and the wind caressing my back.

I called and the World Rune answered.

From deep within my soul, the well of power I'd become so familiar with began to bubble and rise like a mountain spring. Magic, real magic. There was a small part of me that relished in it even more than I relished in the many enchantments that were at my disposal. The enchantments and creations I made were infused with mana, yes, but they weren't me. As much as I treasured the creation process, there was something about being personally powerful that satisfied me on a primal level. Here was a power that couldn't be taken away or sabotaged; here was a power that was all mine.

I allowed the mana to flood my muscles and held it for a minute, luxuriating in the experience. Here in the Salar de Uyuni, I could forget about it all. Forget about Scion and his suicidal depression that threatened to consume countless earths. Forget about Cauldron and its thousand and one plans. Forget about all the lives that danced on a blade's edge, all waiting to be tipped one way or the other by the ripples of my actions. Forget even about my next project and the husk of Winter's Approach that sat in my workstation, waiting for the Tear of the Goddess to give it life.

Here and now, in this moment, I was completely free of responsibilities and burdens.

Then, with a slow exhale, I began to dance. It started slowly, each step barely disturbing the mirror beneath my feet. The goal wasn't a "perfect strike." There was no such thing outside of shitty xianxia novels and kung fu movies. If anything, the flowing, circular motions that sent gentle ripples throughout the salt pan would be detrimental in an actual fight. No, the goal was instead to "embrace the world within," as Hui Ning, the Eye of the Dragon, once put it.

I was enthralled by the motion of mana within me. It flowed like waves, a mirror within reflecting the motions of my body. Here, in this moment, my mind was perfectly clear. My world shrank to just me, the dance, and this natural wonder that was my stage.

It too was Inspiration, albeit in a whole new way.

My footsteps quickened. Several minutes later, the circles made by my hands and feet gradually tightened until gentle swirls turned into spiraling strikes. At the end of every strike, the mana within me burst forth in a small corona of blue.

Even as I sped up and turned the dance into a flurry of punches and kicks, the air around me cooled considerably. It wasn't long before my every breath misted the air. After all, I was an Iceborn now. Glacial Augment didn't make me Anivia, or even Ashe, but it did give me the possibility and one day, I swore I'd make that possibility into reality.

But right now, I'd probably have a hard time freezing a cup of water mid-combat.

X

I shrugged as I tossed a towel over my shoulders. Power would come with time. It was a mantra I'd been repeating to myself for months. If nothing else, I had my armor to look forward to, one that would greatly amplify my budding ice affinity.

After my shower, I sat in the living room, legs crossed in meditation. Two variants of meditation seemed a little excessive at first glance, but it was necessary. The first was to train my body to accept the flow of mana and to enhance my ice affinity. This stationary meditation was so I could dump as much mana as possible into the Tear of the Goddess hanging from my neck.

At the rate I was going, the Tear would be as full as I could make it by the end of the month. I couldn't wait. Winter's Approach just wasn't complete without it.

An hour later, I heard my mom step into the living room. "Good morning, son."

"Morning, mother," I said from my seat on the floor.

I saw her kneel and wrap her arms around me. "Happy birthday."

"Yeah, I'm taking the day off like you asked."

"No lab?"

"No lab."

"Good. You could use a break. What do you want for breakfast?"

I shrugged. "Some Spam and eggs?"

"Haha, are you afraid people will say you're not Namjoon's son?"

"What? There's nothing wrong with Spam for breakfast."

"Fine, fine. What do you want to do today?"

"You know… I don't know, mom. I was just going to laze around."

"Do you want to go to a museum with me? We've been here for months but we haven't done much sightseeing."

"Don't you have work?"

"It's my son's birthday. I took the day off," she said with a smile. "There is also a play at the Kennedy Center that's free tonight. Or maybe visit the National Cathedral? I know you go to church occasionally."

I realized then that she'd planned this. What did it say about me as a son that my mom needed to write up an itinerary just to spend time with her son?

"That sounds great, mom. I haven't been to the Museum of Natural History so let's go there," I said.

"Didn't you say you needed dinosaur bones to make something? I thought you've visited already."

"Fossilized lizard eggs of any variation to make my Ymelo. Metalmaru just had someone get it for me though so I've never been."

"Alright, then we'll go today."

After breakfast, I summoned a Biscuit and handed it to mom before heading to my room to prepare for the day. There, a second Biscuit materialized in my hand. It promptly flew out the window, only for a portal to appear in midair and intercept it. I felt a chiding smack on the back of my head.

Turning around, I found a post-it note on my desk and a pine box leaning against the side that I had not noticed before. The box was completely unadorned and less than three feet long, completely unobtrusive. She probably left it there while I was in my training ground.

I sighed when I saw what was inside. Somewhere out there was a very panicked priest. The note read:

Happy birthday, Andy.

You mentioned how the "spiritual weight" of something could affect its worth as a crafting ingredient. I don't understand, but I'm sure my gift will be of some worth. I had the Path look for the most conveniently acquired Korean relic. Use it to make something. Or not, I suppose it doesn't matter. I'm not going to bother Pathing this further.

-C

PS: Stop trying to waste food.

I recognized the "sword." How could I not? My father was a student of Korean history and this one was particularly famous. The Seven-Branched Sword was a ceremonial sword sent by the king of the Korean kingdom of Baekje to a Japanese "king of Wa" as a sign of peace and cooperation. It was made entirely of iron and engraved in script that was inlaid in gold. Six prongs sprouted from the spine of the sword and together with the tip of the blade, they formed the "seven branches."

It was… completely useless as a weapon. There were some ancient weapons with branches and hooks built in to catch and break an opponent's swords, but this one was clearly not meant to see combat. The blade was only slightly longer than two feet, with the tang of the sword extending another three or four inches. The tang wasn't even attached to a hilt to hold it with.

Historically, the sword was tangible proof of Japan's semi-mythical Empress Jingū, not that I knew much else beyond that. The inscriptions on the sword didn't say much. One side was the king of Baekje bragging about how the sword was made with wrought iron that was "folded a hundred times," which wasn't actually good for steel, but whatever. The other was a letter denoting how the king of Baekje presented this sword as a sign of peace and best wishes to the king of Wa, probably some minor kingdom or territory during Empress Jingū's time.

In other words, the sword wasn't significant because a great general wielded it or because some god blessed it. The sword was significant because it was a sign of peace and cooperation between two ancient kingdoms. It was a sword of peace and kingship, of goodwill rather than promised bloodshed.

It was proof that, at one point in time, Japan and Korea didn't hate each other.

And Contessa stole it for me on a whim…

"Fucking Contessa," I groaned. She was like a cat that brought home a dead pigeon. Even when she did something nice, she was a headache.

I stuffed the pine box in the back of my closet and decided I'd worry about it another time. I could return it to whichever shrine Japan kept it in, but a part of me wanted to make something out of it. Or maybe I enjoyed the idea of having a priceless relic. No ideas immediately sprang to mind, but I could surely use a "sword of peace" or a "sword of kings" for something.

It'd be insensitive to just return it… right?

X

Today was quite nice, all things considered. Truthfully, I'd rather have spent it in my lab, but I could admit that I enjoyed this bout of normalcy in my life.

And it truly was a normal day. Because I'd spent so little time out of the house, no one here knew me as "that poor blind kid." My glass eyes could easily be hidden with a pair of shades and so long as I didn't tap my way around with a stick, no one could tell otherwise.

It was a novel experience.

Following a tour of the Museum of Natural History, mom and I had lunch at Old Ebbitt Grill, a DC landmark that claimed to be Washington's oldest saloon. Apparently, it was founded in 1856 and used to be a boarding house that housed several presidents, congressmen, and other important figures. The old boarding house burned down or something and the restaurant changed locales a few times throughout the century and a half, but it was still an institution.

The food… was alright. Mom, still used to a Korean palette, thought their crab cake was a bit too over-seasoned. My burger was good, though I personally felt we were paying more for the ambiance than the food.

After mom's foray into American cuisine, the two of us headed home, where I regaled her with all the things I could now make. All, that is, save the Elixir of Life. I didn't want to explain to her that yes, I could regrow my eyes but no, I didn't want to.

My mom snapped her fingers. "I forgot! We didn't pick up a cake!"

I laughed. "Mom, I can bake better."

"You shouldn't have to cook on your birthday."

"Even if I like to cook?"

"When did my son grow up so much?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty great," I sniffed, shooting her a smug grin. I ducked a dope-slap with a laugh. "Do we have baking supplies?"

"No, I don't think so. Let's go shopping for groceries while we're at it."

"Alright, yeah, that sounds cool."

The deal with groceries in the Kim household was that shopping was a whole process. There were several nearby supermarkets including Giant, Safeway, and Costco, but mom almost exclusively shopped at H-Mart. In Annandale. Nowhere else could she get her supply of kimchi, Pacific mackerel, raw pork belly, or other uncommon ingredients. If it wasn't for my job in DC, she would have insisted we move closer to the Korean community there.

All told, it took twenty-five minutes to drive to Annandale. There, we stopped by at a place called Breeze Bakery and Café for a small cup of green tea and sweet red bean bingsu, a type of Korean shaved ice modernized with condensed milk, diced fruit, and jellies. By the time we returned home, it was nearing five in the afternoon.

The two of us ended up making a matcha cheesecake with whipped dark chocolate cream, honey, and unsweetened cocoa powder for a hint of bitterness. Having my mom as an assistant while I baked was unexpectedly enjoyable, as was watching her polish off three slices with relish. We'd get around to dinner… probably... Or not…

"This is perfect, Yusung," she said as she licked the fork.

"Glad you liked it, mom. I wanted to try making something that wasn't too sweet."

"Hehe, you're going to make a girl very happy in a few years."

'Yeah, maybe when I'm done fading a god,' I thought with a snort. "Maybe in like ten years."

"You're not going to date until you're nineteen?"

"Nah, I'm too different. I worry about tinkertech, being a hero, and making potions for disaster relief, mom. If I have to listen to some girl prattle on about how she forgot to do her math homework, I think I'd break up with her right then and there, no matter how cute she is."

"That's a pity. You know, that Alice girl was very pretty," she said with a teasing grin.

"Who, the girl you were giving violin lessons to?"

"Yes, I still feel bad for the way we disappeared."

"We couldn't help it."

"I know. I thought she had a lot of potential."

"Really? You only taught her for one lesson. And I was there. Were we hearing the same girl?"

Mom flicked my ear in irritation. "Don't laugh, Yusung, she wasn't that bad. Everyone starts out knowing nothing. It's your willingness to learn that determines how far you go."

"Fine, fine. But yeah, I'm sure we could have been friends if we stuck around in Phoenix."

"What about you? Are you enjoying your music lessons?"

"Yes, mother," I drawled and resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Of course we'd get onto the subject of my education; as if we weren't Asian enough already.

"Really? Which do you like better? Piano or saxophone?"

"They both have their place, I think. Sax for the sound, but piano for the versatility. I like the improvisation that you can do with a sax but I think the piano fits in with any style of music."

"Good. I'm glad. Sometimes, it feels like I have nothing to teach you."

"Nah, I'm still garbage at music," I joked.

I could change that if I built myself an etwahl. After all, every invention crafted by my hands came with Inspiration-backed knowledge of its operation. I could become a great musician overnight, but… the look of joy on my mother's face as she talked about different music styles and how she learned to incorporate one instrument or another into her repertoire made me decide against it. My lessons in Korean and music were some of the few ways we could bond.

I smiled. Sometimes, perfect wasn't needed.