The tumultuous series of events in the wake of this year’s metnaðr-raun left the city in a buzz. But like all things, it was washed away under the confines of everyday life. The men lost themselves to demanding labour, women busy running the household and children weathered the ups and downs intrinsic to growing up. As with aging foliage amid the fall, so was my newfound fame, short-lived. I no longer had to seclude myself indoors in fear of being mobbed by the general populace; their fervour reduced to smiles and waves for the few that even bothered to look my way.

Humanity’s decaying soul was a fickle mistress that quickly grew tired of the gifts we offered, craving for something grander than the last. It was an endless cycle many never recognised, much less broke free from. As for myself, I had one desire, one dedication; all else was nothing but a step leading me ever closer.

Winter had given way to spring, innocent buds laying claim to a land culled by frost’s icy sickle as the first rays of light pierced white-capped peaks. It’s been about a month since the heart-to-heart between trainer Galti and me, the price of my folly lingering to this day in a few tender places. I was at the communal training grounds, going through my usual routine of stretches and warm-ups, anticipation riding high. A few days ago, I received a letter stating nothing but a time and place. My first reaction was to assume this was a prank, as was Esja’s, but after some thought, I decided to play along with it. So, here I am, in a barren field, before the rooster crows, freezing my ass off, three days in a row.

I paused, ears picking up faint steps over the calm, bouncing off the flat mountain face and its ouroboric depiction. I scanned the yawning landscape with raised vigilance, barely making out distant shapes through a pre-dawn fog. Eventually, a figure emerged out of the muddiness, heading straight in my direction. My worries went unsubstantiated, the individual’s offset footfalls and unique gait allowing me to deduce their identity. He stopped a few steps away from me, silent, inspecting my figure.

“How’re you feelin’ Sǫlmundr,” he asked, eyes almost glowing in the dim light.

“I am in perfect health and awaiting instruction, trainer Galti,” I replied. As soon as the words left my mouth, a sting bit into my forehead, forcing me to yelp in surprise.

Thumbing a pebble, trainer Galti said, “Boy, don’t think your pitiful act fools me. I saw your strained movements from a mile away.” I lowered my head in embarrassment as he continued. “I will only request two things of you—dedication and honesty. If there ever comes a time when you lack either, we are through, do you understand?”

“Yes, trainer Galti,” I nodded.

With a grunt of approval, he swept the immediate area clean, sitting down with crossed legs, motioning for me to do the same. “We will start our sessions with a time of meditation, to centre body and mind, drawing ourselves from the earth. Now, close your eyes, still your thoughts and focus on the ground beneath us.” Holding back my questions for later, I followed his lead, sinking into a mellowed state. “Let the sensation overtake you and try to maintain that state for as long as you can.”

My chi gradually seeped out, dissolving into the earth around me. I touched the surface, fine dirt warming to the peeking sun, imagining what it would be like to scoop up a handful of this fresh earth and watch as the granules dripped between my fingers. A breeze blew, and I watched as it swept a bit of the earth, carrying it yonder. Returning my attention below, I strayed deeper, soon finding myself in a strange new world. I was no stranger to the many taken by the earth—sand, clay, granite, marble, quartz, and even processed versions like glass, but this was a wholly different experience.

Each and every grain, pebble and bead was unique, to the degree that those of the same ilk possessed their own defining features. I could roughly tell them apart in the same way one would be able to distinguish different individuals comprising a crowd. A wave of sadness hit me when I realised that I had never known the earth for what it really was—the amalgamation of the many to bring forth something greater. This was the truth of the world, and if it was all I gained from trainer Galti, he would have my eternal gratitude. I roved around, acquainting myself with everyone until I was gently rocked awake, depriving me of the out-of-body experience.

When I came to, the sun had already revealed itself, and when my eyes adjusted, I was greeted by an odd view. ‘Has someone been drawing in the sand?’ Faint bands and obscure markings were imprinted into the ground, the pattern encircling me on all sides. With a questioning frown, I sought an explanation, finding a wrinkling face staring intently at the engraving. “Trainer Galti, what is this?” I asked, hopping out of the artful ring.

He was silent, absorbed in deciphering the mysterious drawing that looked more like a child’s doodle than a coherent piece of work. He soon gave up, sweeping the area clean of traces, sighing, “I didn’t expect you to get so far on your first try, but this is both an excellent and worrying sign.”

“What is going on exactly?” I was bemused by his rambling and desperately wanted to know what he was so worked up about.

“In truth, you were never meant to get this far,” he said, almost discouraged by the idea I did. “The primary goal of meditation is to deepen your connection with the earth, which would better help your training but midway through the exercise, you managed to take it a step further.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” I asked, still not following.

“Of course it is. I always knew you were blessed up ‘ere,” he praised, baring a lob-sided smile that was missing a few yellowed teeth, tapping his temple. “I only worry that you will progress too quickly, losing the opportunity to build a sturdy foundation. The foundation is the core, be it for bending or life. A hut on firm ground is worth more than a mansion on faltering land.”

While I didn’t fully buy into his reasoning, it was still sound advice that I heeded. “I understand, trainer Galti. I will take things slower next time.”

He patted my back, and I winced, recalling the soreness that had been temporarily abated. “Don’t worry, boy. As long as you follow my guidance, there’s no reason to worry… at least when it concerns meditation.”

“At least when it concerns meditation?” I didn’t like the sound of that.

“Aye, at least when it concerns meditation,” he said, eyeing me with a grin that said he knew exactly what I was thinking. “The training regime I put together may seem impossible to complete, but that is merely an illusion. Your will to remain steadfast and persevere will determine if you sink or swim, and make no mistake, I am more than willin’ to watch you drown.”

I bowed, casting away any feelings of doubt or hesitation, saying, “Please instruct me, trainer Galti.”

“Let’s see if you still feel the same way after a few more sessions. Now, as I stated before, the key to everything is built upon a solid foundation, and yours is shabbier than a leaky outhouse durin’ a storm. I will not hold you to the standards expected of a child but that of an adult, are we clear?” I nodded, undecided on whether to be thrilled or daunted. “We will start from the beginning, gradually layering on more advanced lessons as progress is made. Firstly, what are the three core facets integral to bending?”

I knew the answer; all bender kids were taught this during general training. “The mind, body and movement, all working in unison, allows us to bend.”

“Correct. We have already begun your mental training, but with your body recovering, we will postpone physical training and move on to movement. Movement is the,” he stepped hard, sending a chunk of stone into the air, “bridge between body and mind.” Seamlessly punching forward, the rock was sent flying, throwing up a cloud of dust as it crashed in the distance.

“What I just did might be both familiar and unfamiliar to you. To the untrained eye, it may look like two separate actions, but it is, in actual fact, one movement in the basic martial form. Bjǫlr, that blundering piglet, decided it was better to teach you youngins a dissected, disjointed version focused on singular actions rather than the complete form.” Annoyance was plainly visible on trainer Galti’s face as he continued. “Unlike that short-sighted fool, I will teach you the form, and we will only move on once you have learnt it in its entirety to an acceptable standard.”

I tried my best to keep a straight face, but my perceptive instructor caught hold of the slight change of expression, chuckling, “What did you expect? That I was going to teach you advanced weapon forms or some secret technique that trumps all else? Childish fantasies won’t help you achieve your dream! It is by way of blood, sweat and tears! Through years of dedication and hardship!” He clapped, the sound echoing to empty surroundings, declaring, “Let’s begin! Observe my ways and commit them to memory; I don’t take joy in repeating myself.”

The battle-worn man found some room, carving a vertical ‘H’ into the ground, standing in the middle of the bottom line. “Don’t just focus on my upper body but the footwork as well; this outline is here to help with it.” I kept my eyes open, unwilling to miss even the most minute details, as trainer Galti began. Each movement was separate, carrying power and abruptness, stubbornness and purpose. It was a masterful display that cemented that I had made the right decision to seek him out at the cost of injury. He proceeded back and forth along one side, heading up the centre line and repeating the movements in reverse, one foot at a time, in a horse stance.

To say I was overwhelmed would be an understatement when he finished and asked me to replicate the feat. ‘How in the hel was I meant to remember all that?’ Standing in the starting position, I carefully moved to the best of my ability, fraught with indecision. ‘Was it left leg step or right-hand swipe?’ “Left-hand block, and keep your arms straight; I don’t want to see anymore tilting,” he said, dispelling my thoughts. Like that, I was introduced to the first earthbending form with timely directions by trainer Galti, who pointed out all my flaws and poor memory after the fact. By the time I had completed the tenth rep, it was nearing noon, our time at an end.

“We have a lot of work ahead of us, Sǫlmundr; this is only the beginning. Remember, even the greatest of monuments started off as nothing more than mere stone,” he said over the commotion inherent to these grounds, newcomers going through their daily exercises.

“Again, thank you for agreeing to train me, trainer Galti. I won’t let you down, I promise.” I bowed, showing the etiquette and honour owed to someone of his stature. Plus, if I wanted our relationship to deepen, it had to start small, with little things like this.

“Humm—Same time tomorrow, don’t be late. Now scram, boy, I have a class to teach shortly,” trainer Galti shooed, waving me off. Saying my goodbyes, we parted as I returned to the Illugi mansion. After all, if I wanted a strong body, it needed an appropriate amount of fuel; no longer could I afford to skip meals. I couldn’t remain stuck by past mistakes, the future was uncertain, so I had to give my all in the now to thrive tomorrow.

Like that, days bled into weeks, then months, all while I grew in stature and strength, and before I knew it, harvest time arrived.

Look up Hung Ga Taming The Tiger to see what the martial form looks like.