Lunaria: Genesis

9- Training

I arrive home to find Lady Vino, in her office as I pass by to go to the attic. She looks up at me with a worn scowl, and gestures for me to come. As I walk into the room I take a look around. The room is painted a dull grayish red, and two seats are in front of the thick black desk where she sits. Incense burns in small silver trays, smelling of oils, fragrant grapes, and jasmine. I stand in front of her and bow, waiting to hear what it is she has to say.

"Where do you think you are going? Your training starts as of now, go change into more fitting clothes. When you are done, we are going to the next building." She instructs, and I leave to go do as she says. In the attic closet I notice a new set of clothes. Black cotton pants and a red tank top with red shoes. All of it looks like new strong material, and the back of the shirt is branded with the Vino family crest. I quickly change into the new clothes and move outside into the training building. Lady Vino awaits me, with a large hanging rack of over a dozen punching bags linked up along the long building. Even more are stacked up in a large pile in the corner. Lady Vino waits on one end, beside the first bag.

"I have been studying the students in this year's academy, and most can punch strong enough to break a sand filled punching bag after a few hits. Come here and punch this one." She demands, and I walk over obediently. Standing in front of the bag, it was lifted up so the bottom hung at the level of my shins, and it was as tall as me. I steady my stance and punch the bag, sending it swinging backwards wildly. As it rocked back towards me I punched with my other hand, placing more of my weight and energy into it and making a solid thump sound as the bag flew back again. As it swung towards me again I punched it, this time, shifting my weight and placing my force into my fist and extending my arm fully. The bag made a loud ripping sound, sand exploded out from the back and fell to a pile on the floor. I punched a hole straight through the bag in both sides, I could see though the large tear in the bag and see Lady Vino watching from the corner of my eye. She just stands with her arms folded across her chest, looking unamused. She presses down on a pedal on the ground, and the whole rack begins to shift, moving the next bag in front of me.

"Break the bag with one punch." She says. I turn to the bag, taking a deep breath I steady myself and throw a solid punch, throwing my arm with my force. The bag also explodes, tearing so much that it ripped in two, collapsing on the floor in a heap of torn fabric and sand. Lady Vino did not look impressed. She just pressed the pedal and moved the next bag towards me.

"This one is filled with casting sand. Each one after is heavier and heavier. It goes from sand, to gravel, to pebbles, to stones, rocks, and finally the bags at the very end are filled with boulders. You will have to punch and break all of them. Only when you are done may you come inside. You aren't allowed food until then." She says, and then turns and leaves. I turn back to the punching bag, with nothing left to do I punch the bag filled with casting sand. It is heavier, but after warming up with the previous bag I break this one in almost two hits. I have to press the pedal for the next bag myself, and I begin again. I work so it's a routine, no bag takes over ten punches to break, I pound away busting bag after bag.

Now there is a pile of gravel and sand mixed together at my feet, my arms begin to feel the force I am putting into the punching. My core is tight, the muscles there beginning to burn along with my arms and shoulders. I can feel the sting of forced and slow healing along with the strain, but I only focus on hitting the bags. I am now at bags that are completely filled with riverbed pebbles. The bags are harder to push, my knuckles crack against the rock as the bag breaks open. I don't hesitate to bring the next bag, not wasting time to stop. I can feel myself having to channel more and more power just to be able to even move the bags. This is a rarely found strain on me, and I am unused to forcing my body like this.

Now, I am punching the bags filled with fist sized rocks. The bag shakes and trembles making a rumbling sound as my arms pump harder and harder against it. I strike it quickly, my breaths matching my fast pace. The bag explodes, the rocks shattering and flying to crash into the wall far behind it. I begin pushing my strength much past what is required to break the bag, the bags of stones begin to fly in every direction when they break. My fist strike out with lightning speed, and soon I get to the final bag. The heavy boulders strain against the fabric, and the rack bends with the weight. My body is solid and strong, my veins are filled with fire, rushing through me and fueling my muscles. I bring my arm back, and with a single punch the boulders shatters into dust, every strand of fabric tearing into pieces. I stand in the rubble of all of the bags of rocks, still burning on the inside. My breaths are labored and heavy, and oddly I feel that my face is covered in a sheen of sweat. Looking down at my hands, I see that they are covered in blood, my knuckles are split open, blood and dirt caking my fingers . My shoulders ache horribly, making my arms hang limply at my sides. I take a step backwards out of the sand and rocks at my feet, and feel weakness in my knees. My legs quiver with energy as I make my way out the training building. Outside, the sun is barely setting, not even touching the horizon yet.

I look at the house, it seems so far away. I am forced to stop, my legs are shaking badly, threatening to give out from under me. My chest heaves and burns, I can't seem to get enough air in me. This is a very unsettling and familiar feeling, I remember feeling this way after being in intensive fights, and after struggling for my life. I straighten up and take one step, then another, and the house begins to shift out of focus and grow blurry. The world spins around me and I crash in the grass.

When I awaken, I am staring up at the midnight sky, feeling the cool refreshing air on my skin and looking at the large white moon. I feel much better, looking at my hands I flex them. My knuckles are completely healed, although they are still dirty with blood. I slowly stand back up, taking a deep breath of the cool air. I stretch my arms, and I don't feel any soreness, my legs feel fine as well. Once again, I am graced with the healing the moonlight gives me. I walk back to the house, stopping to drink water which I can only swallow in small careful sips. I begin to walk up to the attic, when I pass by Lady Vino's office.  She is writing over clusters of papers, and doesn’t look up from what she is doing. Her light is on, and she beckons for me to come in. I enter, bowing to her and listening.

"No one told you to take a nap. Next time, you will not be taking time off for stargazing. Come here." She says. I walk up closer, around the desk so I am beside her.

"Hold out your arms." She says plainly. I present my arms to her, still very covered in dried blood with my wrist facing upwards. She picks up a stick of incense, bamboo coated in fragrance and hot oil, and burning on one end. She takes it and lashes it across my arms, swiping it so that it burned my skin in bright red rows of swelling wounds. The burning oil stings as it seeps under my opened skin, and the bring red tip gets pressed against my veins like a knife. I wince, but I don't do much else, holding perfectly still despite the pressing pain. After striking my arm so many times that blood began dripping on the floor, she put the incense down and continued her work. I turn to leave back out her office and upstairs to my attic room for the night, laying awake in my bed and thinking on everything that happened today.