Luctor et emergo
Astra inclinant, sed non obligantI struggle and emerge
Fingers drum incessantly. Tapping to their own tune. The fidgeting escalates, culminating, a fist encased within a hand. Crack! Irritation sparks, thousands of glares directed her way.
“Sorry!” squeaks Seulgi. She stares at her feet, cradling her knuckles, waiting for the moment to pass. Attention shifts from her, not before grumbles emerge from her fellow trainees.
Meditation had never been her forte. Her limbs seem to have a mind of their own and she can’t stay still. Her rear refuses to stick to the ground. It’s déjà vu, back to the first night in front of the Shamans. Frustration, nervousness had invaded her senses albeit the commands to calm down. Half an hour to activate her avatar, Seulgi groans at the thought. Without a doubt, she was the slowest, resulting in her placement in Vesalius.
Peeking at Irene, Seulgi is in awe, the girl being the complete opposite of her. Motionless, transfixed to her spot with legs perfectly crossed.
“Let the energy flow through your veins,” says Soma softly. Here and there, avatars are emitted, glowing projections swathing their owners. Shutting her eyes tight, Seulgi strives for the familiar pulse, the warmth that cocoons her being. She can do it. Concentrating with all her might, the switch flicks on and warmth dances on her skin. Grinning in triumph, she can feel success, arms reaching, grasping.
“What are you doing Seulgi?” Irene whispers. Struck back down to reality. Seulgi opens her eyes to her arms stretched out, blindly groping the air, no avatar in sight. If attention wasn’t on her previously, it surely is now. She shoves her arms to her sides. Her ears turn red and she wishes she could disappear. Hide in a hole and become a hermit. Forget her groping show. Mutters float around, loud enough for her to hear everything.
“That dunce doesn’t have an avatar.”
“Runs in the family, I heard they’re a bunch of slugs.”
“She’s weak, I always saw her getting beat up.”
“Actual slugs. Slug avatars. She’ll be the first to die in the Arena.”
“Settle down, we’re meditating to adjust ourselves to this process. Avatar projection isn’t an easy task,” voices Soma over the trainees. Like sheep, they follow, and silence resumes. Seulgi is used to all sorts of mockery, rearing its ugly head everyday. She lets the insults wash over. Nothing good comes from caring about it. She releases her pent-up breath, preparing for a second attempt. Only for a knee to dig into her thigh and there she is, Irene, sitting beside her in full glory, avatar shining.
“You’re a coyote,” she mumbles dumbly. The projection flickers out, leaving no traces.
“Mmm, are you disappointed?” hums Irene. Seulgi shakes her head. She can’t compare when hers wouldn’t even show up. The one time it did was a fluke.
“No, I have no right to be. I can’t activate my avatar like you. I don’t understand why.” Irene comforts her, patting her shoulder gently.
“You can do it, try again. What do the Shamans always tell us?”
“Become one with our animal? Fuse into nature? Give monthly offerings to the Earth Mother at five in the morning?”
“The first one, Seulgi.”
“Oh.”
“Maybe you should imagine yourself as your animal.” At Irene’s words, Seulgi closes her eyes and begins to chant rapidly.
“I’m a bear. I’m a bear. I’m a bear.” Seulgi is special alright, drawing scowls for the third time. Reaching to tap her friend, Irene backs away in surprise. Seulgi’s outline is suddenly radiating, a brown glow morphing, taking shape.
“I’m a bear, I’m a damn bear, that’s right.”
The shape flattens and it starts to resemble a certain slimy creature. Growing oblong, looking like a big ripe banana. Seulgi sweats buckets, desperately praying it’s not what she thinks it is. She’ll even wake up on time to give offerings at 5 am. It can’t be, no not the—
Four stocky limbs extend from the banana and paws with razor sharp claws pop out. A snout comes after, round ears top her head. Fur sprouts from every place imaginable. Her eyes flash open, raking over her peers’ gaping faces, and the bear surges to her feet. Shocked is an understatement, a mighty grizzly towers over
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