Chapter 10: Plans

Sukanu didn’t relish the upcoming meeting. The Jiyo patriarch was a harsh taskmaster, and demanded results and not excuses for failures. When he was young, Jhin—for that was the patriarch’s given name—knew how to temper his demands with caution and words of wisdom from his many advisors. As he grew older and more settled in his power, Sukanu felt that Jhin increasingly turned reckless, and blind to the many enemies that Jiyo had cultivated during their long period of ascendancy in the Empire.

She noted his almost bald head first, and how old he looked sitting there in his visiting room. Had it been that long since they started working together? She had her own gray hairs to attest to that, she supposed.

“So, is it done?” he asked, curtly, not even bothering with a greeting.

“No, patriach.” she said softly, and he looked up.

“I think it’s time to re-evaluate our plans regarding the boy.” she said stolidly. “He could be an asset instead of a hurdle as we thought.”

The glass tumbler flew out of his hands and barely missed Sukanu’s head. It crashed behind her and broke. Sukanu didn’t flinch.

“I am surrounded by inept idiots who can’t even do the simplest thing. The boy is a muradi, and you cannot even eliminate him!” he shouted.

In between that tirade, Sukanu had sent the guards away with a carefully placed hand signal. They didn’t need to witness the upcoming confrontation.

“Jhin!” she said loudly, interrupting his monologue and finally managing to shock him. There had been a time—before duty and custom had to be honored—when Sukanu thought the world revolved around this tired old man. She had pampered him more than enough.

“We’ve been together for over 30 years. If you think me inept and an idiot, I will of course resign. But not before I’ve had my say. You ... are not thinking clearly. Listen to what I have to say before you spout off. I tried to eliminate this boy, this muradi as you describe him, but he took down five of our operatives without a scratch. I’ve read his record just as you have, and it’s true—he does have a strong disability—but his control over the prann and the way he reads scenarios is unprecedented. I have never seen the like.”

What remained unstated was that Sukanu was one of the foremost prann sensitives in the entire kingdom. It was what had brought a young fisherman’s daughter to Jhin’s attention oh so long ago.

“Now, it is true Uncha did a terrible thing giving that boy our Blessing. But not two months ago, I remember you making an equally horrifying mistake.”

Even in the midst of his face turning purple, she could see Jhin wince.

“Perhaps these two wrongs can make a right,” she continued. “I have a plan, and if you want me to be in your service, you will listen.”

There is something about pining for lost love that is cruelly appealing. You want to crawl out of despair and do something, anything. You want to bash your head on the door, feel her lips again, change your words, your decisions, and then, in the next moment, you don’t.

There was one obvious thing to distract me in those days, and that was training. The Vihaya King still called but sporadically, and so I had a lot of time to finesse the katas. There were a hundred and eight in total: from the simple first ones to the last, which took an hour and a half if done to exactness. The prann fighting katas demanded perfectness of the body, but that could only be achieved with a calm mind. And so, day after day, even with rigorious exercise and multiple repetitions, I failed miserably.