Almarine noticed early on that Arson wasn’t fitting in with children his age. Whenever the baby boy was not with her, he was normally found with teenagers and young adults. He also didn’t talk. His answers came in shy nods or slight shakes of his head mostly, and the few words he often offered by his second season cycle would make a pirate blush. She wanted the baby boy to be able to form strong connections with others, but wondered if the aspects of her more reserved nature was Arson’s primary source of learning how to be. Yes, the baby boy did spend more time with her than others, but there were many sides to her, and being closed off wasn’t an aspect she wanted Arson to adapt at any age. Young or old. “I knew it,” said Khalif. Almarine jumped internally at being snuck up on by the young man, and even though she didn’t show outward surprise, was shocked by how well Khalif was becoming at moving around unheard or seen. “You knew what, child?” asked Almarine, fully aware of what Khalif was talking about. “You are training him, never thought I would say this about a baby, but I think I’m jealous, and am not the only one,” said Khalif. Almarine took in the teen's appearance, and smiled down at him before she pat him on the head. “It's an obstacle course, it helps with brain development, it's not training,” said Almarine. Khalif frowned up at the woman and shook his head at her. “Oh yeah, then why aren’t there any other toddlers or babies in here, learning…. As you put it. Actually Momma Almarine, can you even tell me how many other baby orphans are being cared for currently, or even tell me another baby’s name,” asked Khalif. Almarine looked down at Khalif and knew the young man had caught her, she could not in fact answer either one of those questions. Not only did she not know the answer, she knew how much of a problem it was that she didn’t care. Not because the children weren’t special, or that she didn’t see them all as equal. More that when around Arson she felt an excitement that she’d assumed she’d lost the ability to feel. Even as she watched the baby boy complete the most basic of obstacle courses, she felt pride. The room they were in could construct entire perilous courses to train the body to a level of refinement that was no longer commonplace for their society. What Arson now climbed through was more playground than obstacle course, but that was for the boy to train his hand eye coordination as much as possible, rather than offer unnecessary difficulty during this stage of his life and learning. “What do you want, child? If you are so convinced I am training Arson, wouldn’t that mean you are interrupting me when I’m busy,” asked Almarine. She did her best not to be annoyed, but failed. The stress of expectations in her direction, more overwhelming with everyday that passed in the orphanage. “I want in, train me and I won’t tell anyone,” demanded Khalif. The threat clear in his words. “You know how many people have blackmailed me and survived,” asked Almarine. Khalif shook his head and took a step back when Almarine leaned down toward him. “None,” said Almarine in a whisper that visibly sent goosebumps down Khalif's arms. Yet before the young man was able to run away, his intent fully apparent to Almarine, she rolled her eyes and sighed. “If you tell anyone, I’ll handle them first, then make sure you never get another opportunity to try this again,” said Almarine. She turned back toward the dojo, and started to use the controls for the room through her own Overlay. Khalif seemed excited, at first. Then equipment begun to drop from the ceiling, lift from the floor and slide free of the walls. Arson’s tiny playground was surrounded by a real obstacle course in moments. Khalif looked around at some of the unfamiliar equipment in absolute fear, and Almarine could see his apprehension build with each new selection she made and added to the room. “Momma Almarine, did I—" Almarine cut him off with a sharp command that left no room for misunderstanding, or secondary options. “Move!” Khalif didn’t know where to start, but took off in a sprint toward the closest section and started to climb. While Arson climbed a wall no taller than Khalif, Khalif climbed a wall with the same height as a multi floored building. All while large gears spun maces attached to rotating disks, both above and below Khalif while he climbed. Khalif was forced to duck, and even jump higher up the wall slotted with small handholds to avoid being struck. “Umm,” yelled Khalif. He crawled through a tube that spun violently, and was also filled with water. The tunnel itself worked against his progress forward, as the interior he crawled through was frictionless. The only thing that moved him forward was his frantic kicks, but the consistent spin to the tunnel, made him feel he was both going nowhere and one move away from drowning. Arson had made it to the top of the small section he himself climbed, and clapped down at Almarine before he waved at her. He moved to climb through the next section, but stopped when he heard Khalif start to scream. Arson turned around to see Khalif’s upper body dangling from a large tube that spun, rotated, and gushed water all over the place. The concerned baby pointed, and looked back at Almarine, who simply shrugged. Almarine being Arson’s biggest role model so far in his short life, was enough for him to both mirror her actions with a shrug of his own, and go back to what he was doing, completely unaffected by his friend's screams. “Maybe I’m the problem here,” mumbled Almarine to herself. The morning sessions continued like this, and both Arson and Khalif showed rapid improvements. Baby Arson was able to swing across various types of monkey bars, stationary, moving, and even a slightly advanced set of hanging rings that detached and allowed him to fall into a pit of foam blocks if he hung from them too long. Not wanting to be outdone by a toddler, Khalif pushed himself harder than he ever had before. Both his and Arson’s obstacle courses were never the same, but Khalif noted that the advancement of difficulty was at a much higher pace for Arson than himself. He even thought to ask about it, and was rewarded by an obstacle course that resulted in him in the infirmary for 3 days. Khalif hadn’t thought much of the break, until he returned and saw Arson complete a course so quickly that Almarine had to change the hurdles she used to challenge Arson, not once, but twice that day. Almarine told the two that they were training their physicality and dexterity at the same time, but Khalif hadn’t believed it until he performed a no hand cartwheel through the air in a thin passageway. The space only opened enough to let an individual through sideways, before the walls of the space slammed together. Yet Khalif hadn’t slowed, or hesitated, merely moved through the obstacle instinctually. “Woohoo!” Khalif screamed, the completion of his first ever wall run a big feat in his eyes. He’d been trying to figure out the best way for himself to learn the technique, and had finally managed it, once… “Woohoo!” repeated Arson. His small figure ran and jumped off a small platform, skipped the first few rings that dangled above him, and caught himself halfway through the next section. His speed on the courses improving, as fast or faster than Khalif’s own progress and rate of technique advancement. “You think you can outdo me, little buddy, well I will show you,” roared Khalif as he attempted the same thing on a much more advanced version of the same obstacle Arson had just completed, only to miss the much more widely spaced ring he’d aimed for, and plummet down into water almost three stories below himself. The smack against the water below was brutal, and Arson turned and clapped when he saw Khalif swim to the top of the pool he’d fell into. “Yeah you see me, I’m the best, not even gravity can take me out,” said Khalif as he spluttered and spat up water, hiding his embarrassment with feigned bravado. “Hahaha, AGAIN!” The command from Almarine was enough to make Arson turn back toward what he was doing instantly, and made Khalif scramble out of the water and start over. Khalif felt embarrassed by what Arson seemed capable of. Almarine could tell by how he watched Arson move, not knowing that it was Khalif’s own actions that made the toddler grow so quickly. While Arson’s growth was impressive, Khalif’s own while being pressured by her, and how he felt about Arson's growth, was remarkable. “It is easy to learn a lot when you don’t know as much, Khalif, but this display makes me wonder what other talents may be hidden within this orphanage,” said Almarine to herself. She thought over how she’d decided to never train another student, and paused… You can only take this so far Mari, thought Almarine. Arson learned by seeing, and testing. His ability to digest the world visibly alarmed her, at first. Then she found a focus for him, and that was Khalif. Arson watched his friend move, each platform the baby boy reached, another opportunity to pause and witness. How to jump, correctly spacing each step and transition between each motion. How to manage momentum, and keep balance when moving, or being forced to stop in a blink. Even how to maintain even breathing, while dashing and climbing. Arson did all of these things after watching Khalif, until the actions blended and synchronized with his own body. With each completed mini course Arson finished, another chance was given to his instructor to test him. She made smaller, less dangerous versions of things Khalif had just managed to work his way through in front of Arson into his next physical puzzle; and to her astonishment, it never took Arson more than a handful of times to finish smoothly as if he’d long practiced his actions. Dangerous… very dangerous. Days passed like blinks for Almarine, and the two boys grew both in size and mental dexterity. “You know there is a rumor about this going around, Miss Mari,” said Xani while she strode into the dojo, unbothered. Both Khalif and Arson froze at the worst times. Khalif during the middle of charging through a looped ramp, and Arson during his rush across a balance beam that was divided into sections that spun individually. Both fell. One into water, and the other onto his neck. While Khalif rubbed his neck in pain on the ground, Arson swam to the side of the tank he’d fallen into, and gave Xani a small wave during his momentary struggle to free himself from the water. Must be getting old… didn’t even check to see if the child could swim before I added that obstacle, thought Almarine. Then she responded to Xani as if the girl hadn’t said a word. “Ahh yes, Arson it seems you are late to your build with Xani, dry yourself off and run along now,” said Almarine. Her stern gaze fell on the girl at her side even as she spoke to Arson with enough unexpressed severity to cause Xani to gulp. She made the gesture for sealed lips; a fake lock being turned at the side of her mouth before she threw away the key, and Xani nodded in agreement. “Hurry up Arson I don’t have all day,” said Xani. Her wide eyed gaze locked on Almarine as the woman stared her down. “Can we keep going Momma Almarine,” asked Khalif finally on his feet. “No child, too many distractions about, we will start again in the morning.” The children left and Almarine cleared the room of all the summoned equipment with a single wave of her hand. Most of the day passed without her moving from the room, and she wondered if she needed to make a change in her life. The satisfaction she gained from teaching was and always had been unmatched in her experiences, but she’d stopped for multiple reasons. One being that the cultivator she’d once chosen to receive her own legacy, had died before she could pass on the skills she felt would have been enough to keep the girl alive. While the second was the restrictions and laws against teaching. Her first reason, she felt only occurred because of her second reason. The law stated that the teaching of mana based skills was far too dangerous for any to do. Parents, guardians, anyone in a position to offer instruction were limited to teach anything outside the world of cultivation freely for the first ten season cycles of a child’s life. Training was also permitted, as long as none of the exercises involved mana in any way, shape or form. After that point, what an individual learned, cultivator, or mortal alike, was limited to what they could pay for. Almarine remembered days when the public library was a place of inspiration and expression. A free place to learn the ways of worlds and realms. Now though, a library was a vault filled with information that could change lives, but only to those who could pay. Days of library cards, and borrowed books had been replaced with library credit systems, controlled through digital access points. Knowledge was power, and Almarine's intellectual property was seen as priceless. The orphan mother's situation was unique in that she wasn’t even graced with the ability to teach her adopted children, anything, at any point. Cultivator families, of course, broke rules and taught both mana skills to their children long before they had cores. While it was a widely unkept secret that the more credits available to a family, the more they tended to teach their offspring well past the age of 10. The system was supposed to be a personal experience for a cultivator to learn and interact with the universe. Learn things lost to time, if and when an occasion called for a very specific need that could only be fixed by something across time and space from an individual, this connection made that possible. Though this had long been tainted by the fear men and women carried for their children. An ancient contract broken countless times, for the mere feeling of safety that came with giving what is already known, rather than experiencing something new. Some cultivators followed these rules, and Almarine was one who had. She would not force her magic or understanding of creation on Arson, or any other child. What she would do instead was push his body during its most volatile state to its absolute peak; his mind beyond the understanding of limits. Give Arson’s soul the unfathomable energy of a supernova or more to build upon. The problem lay in how orphanages worked within the land. If Arson were to be adopted, the new parents deserved to be able to teach their children any and everything they wanted. With how reduced the general flow of information had become, the society of Maelstrom like many other cultures based on wealth and power saw an opportunity. So to ensure that there was a growing number of individuals without cores, or the ability to ingest mana, the laws targeted those without protection. Mortals. No core came with a life of what was seen as the mundane. Of course, individuals with the ability to fly, teleport, and move faster than the eye could see naturally would feel that paperwork, and data entry were tasks beneath themselves. While on the other side, the mortals knew the truths unseen by those born into power. The term it takes a city, came from Almarine's own days as a mortal. In a time where community was used to build the marvel that was Maelstrom originally. Not the monster it was now. The wicked black hole that had killed her daughter, and left her soul lost. So when the city officials had come to stop Almarine, she’d at first fought back. Not in might or majesty, but with her own knowledge of the law itself. Though time passed, and the laws changed. Less information was legal to spread with each day that passed. Until eventually, Almarine’s own schoolhouse was torn down lawfully, its very existence a slap in the face of what was now seen as justifiable restrictions set in place for the safety of the people. That was 500 season cycles ago, and since then, the death of her daughter left her will to fight at an all-time low. No sorrow was greater, she’d lost her husband and known it to be his time, but her daughter… She found herself moved from the dojo. Standing in a doorway. Watching a baby boy sleep. With one thought on her mind. “Spark the rules…”
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