Statera: The Balance of Yin and Yang

Dying embers of the sunset

The two men faced each other off in the cage, the harsh bright light reflecting off the layer of sweat that covered their skin. One man's hair plastered to his forehead, while the other bald man's scalp shone greasily. Both breathed heavily, their knees bent and upper body crouched as their eyes tracked the movement of the other as though they were predators stalking their prey, waiting for weakness.

Momentarily, the bald man straightened from the tense posture, and the other man shot for a double leg, lifting his opponent clean off his feet and slamming them onto their shoulder.

I rubbed my shoulder distractedly. That must have hurt. We had been studying wrestling and grappling techniques after finishing the weeks of traditional martial art forms, and I knew first-hand how painful a massive tackle like that was.

The arena exploded into cheers and hoots as the pinned fighter's head bounced against the padded ring by a relentless rain of punches to his head. The punches were so rapid that I could barely see the attacker's individual fists from where I was seated, the cyclic movement of his punches blurring with speed.

The man on top drew his right fist back one last time, and I felt energy gathering around it. The feverish pitch of the stadium rose even higher as some of the Congregants sensed the signs of energy manipulation. My heart lodged in my throat. The man would die if that punch landed. As it was, he was defenceless to it. My fists clawed into my thighs as I leaned forward, watching the deadly punch aimed straight at the vulnerable man's head.

At the very last moment, the referee blew his whistle, drawing up a thin shield of Yang energy to deflect the attack, while throwing his armoured body between the two men. The shield shattered almost instantly, but the vest on the back of the man absorbed the remnants of the offense, and the superficial layer of the protective gear smouldered with black smoke.

The pulse in my throat throbbed and I swallowed drily. This was the first time I watched a formal Sento match – it was a form of entertainment and bets were taken as well. They sometimes travelled to Minato to stage smaller fights, but ma and pa had always disapproved of the violence. Now that I'd learnt some Sento, it was quite interesting, though still too bloody for my liking. I didn't think I'd be in a hurry to watch another one soon.

I caught Elora's eye, and my mouth drew down in frightened apprehension which she returned.

"Scary," she muttered. It was a sentiment I shared.

The intense match marked the end of the first week of the break. Elora had marked out several attractions in Chuong which were just a short train ride away from the Congregate and I had simply tagged along. But today was the last day I would be gallivanting about with her. There was a great deal of revision that I simply had to get into.

~

Reluctantly, I stayed in our rooms while Elora continued adventuring into the next week, trying to get ready for our final exams. I settled for the random trinkets and snacks she brought back from her explorations. She had her own way of studying through the night that I could not replicate. Sometimes, I could swear the girl was inhuman.

The Gold-day before term recommenced, when my head was saturated to the edges of my skull with information, and my brain felt fit to burst, I decided I needed a breather. Elora's absence throughout the week was really taking its toll on me. She was out visiting some milo factory, Xue had disappeared since term break started, and was nowhere to be found, and Enki was avoiding us, as he had done for several weeks now. There was no one to bother or talk to.

I walked to the lake where I had found Kai those weeks ago. Sitting down against a rock, I scribbled into my journal the happenings of the past few months. And tardily replied my parents' letters.