Editing The Plan For The Promise (section)

==The Returning Flood==

''Meanwhile, at the [[Plum Blossom Retreat]]...''

[[Nameless Ravine]] stepped into the candlelit room, brushing aside a few threads.  "Is this..." he whispered.

"Yes," [[Rivers Between Us]] was at his elbow, his goggles down as he checked for spies.  "This is the room where you, ah, sparred with Alabaster Sunset.  I've made certain preparations, as you can see."

In the four corners of the room, candelabras had been set to provide shadowless light.  They were in the cliff face behind the manse, in the one room which did not yet have a purpose.  A temporary lattice of wood had been secured to the ceiling, and from this lattice hung over a thousand individual silk threads, each so thin that they were nearly invisible, but as a whole they practically formed a grey mist.  They hung from the ceiling to ankle height.

"Now, I'm going to ask you to run through a few simple drills.  If you don't mind, I'll be taking some notes.  Don't mind me.  Pretend I'm not even here."

Nameless Ravine unsheathed his greatsword.  "How should I begin?"

"Stand there, in the northwest corner.  Take your stance and make a straight thrust.  And, ah, close your eyes please."

His circlemate took his position, but Rivers watched only the blade.  It flicked into a level position, poised at shoulder height, silk threads flowing over the bladed and around it like a frozen river.  In an instant it leapt forward, its eager edge parting the threads as it passed.  It stopped and hung for a moment, then returned to its master's side, leaving behind the sheared ends of the still hanging silk forming a perfect outline of the path of the sword.

Rivers took notes and sketched in his notebook, essence speeding his hands as they blurred over the paper.  "Excellent... excellent.  Err... thank you.  Now take two steps to your left and perform the same strike, please."

"The same one?  How many times are we doing this?"

"We'll only be taking the silk casts today, if that's what you're asking.  Tomorrow, it will be wax, then the day after ink, and then the next day it will be cement (for your stances), and finally plaster for your grip."  Rivers pulled the goggles over his eyes again and glanced about the room.

"Really, that's all then?"

"There are some sorcerers who would some demons for the purpose, fabricating skin-tight suits from their living flesh.  The motions could then be perfectly recorded, as well as certain other..."

Nameless Ravine shook his head quickly.  "All right.  Fine.  We'll just stick to these then."

Rivers head bent over the notebook.  "I'm sorry, these measures may seem a little slapdash.  I hope you won't be disappointed."

"No... No..."  He took two steps to his left.  "I'm ready."