Ravindra
Fear has a taste.
Ravindra tasted it now, metal on his tongue, acid in his throat, cold spreading from stomach to fingertips though his body was sweating. He stood in the middle of a flat snowfield, wind slapping his face cruelly, and ten paces ahead, Auratigris sat in a ready-to-strike position.
No longer the gentle guardian teaching with patience.
Before him was pure predator, blue and gold eyes blazing with intensity that made every survival instinct scream to run.
"You're afraid." Not a question. Auratigris stated fact like stating the sky was blue or snow was white. "Good. Fear keeps you alive. The question is: what do you do with it?"
Ravindra didn't answer. He couldn't, jaw too tight, teeth grinding. His left hand, still bearing the Aether mark, gripped the training staff Auratigris had carved from mammoth bone found in deep caves. His first weapon. Longer than his own body, heavy, blunt-tipped but hard enough to break bone.
"Run," Auratigris whispered, but that voice carried thousands of miles across snow, "or attack. Choose."
Ravindra didn't move. Body frozen, not from cold but from something older than thought. The most primitive response. A brain screaming that he was not hunter but prey.
"Choose, Ravindra." Voice louder now, carrying the edge of command. "Or I choose for you."
Then Auratigris moved.
No warning. No countdown. One second the guardian sat still, the next that massive body shot across snow with impossible speed, forty feet of flesh and muscle and claws moving like lightning striking earth.
Instinct saved Ravindra.
He threw himself sideways, not graceful, not calculated, just pure panic reflex, and a claw the size of his head struck the snow where he had stood one second before with force that made the ground shake. Snow exploded. Ice shards hit his face like small knives.
Ravindra rolled, rose to his knees, staff raised in a defensive position Auratigris had taught but he never thought he'd use against the teacher herself.
"Better." Auratigris turned, moving in circles with elegance contrasting sharply with her size. "But you only reacted. Didn't think. Only moved because your body forced you. That's not enough."
The attack came again. This time from the side, wings opening slightly, casting a great shadow that blocked the sun, and another claw swept horizontal at chest height.
Ravindra fell backward, literally fell, feet stumbling, rear hitting snow hard. The claw passed inches above his nose. He could feel the air displacement, smell the iron scent of claws that could tear through steel.
"You will die." Auratigris stopped, staring down at the child sprawled in snow. No disappointment in her voice, only statement of fact. "On a real battlefield, you'd be dead five times over. Stand up."
Ravindra stood, hands shaking, legs unstable, breath emerging in white clouds too fast. Heart beating too rapidly, too hard, like it wanted to escape his chest.
"I can't..." His voice cracked. "I can't..."
"You can." Auratigris moved closer, slow this time, not attacking, but the movement still made Ravindra retreat one step. "But not until you master fear. Not until you understand what fear truly is."
The great guardian sat, lowering to a level where their eyes were almost even, though Auratigris's head was still twice the size of Ravindra's entire upper body.
"Listen. Your heart beats fast. Breath short. Muscles tense. That's not weakness, that's your body preparing. Blood flows faster, carrying oxygen. Muscles ready to move harder. Mind sharper, or should be, if you don't let panic take over."
Ravindra listened, but didn't understand. "How do I not panic? You... you're the size of a mountain. I'm..."
"I'm a guardian who could kill you with one swipe of my claw. Yes. That's fact." Auratigris tilted her head, blue and gold eyes narrowing. "But fear doesn't care about facts. Fear sees an ice wolf or guardian or human with a sword, and all look the same: threat. Death. The end."
A great claw touched snow, drawing a simple circle.
"Fear is a circle. You see threat. Body reacts. You panic. Panic makes you slow. Slow makes threat more dangerous. More dangerous threat makes more fear. Circle doesn't end until you die or threat leaves."
A second circle drawn, smaller, inside the first.
"But there's a second way. You see threat. Body reacts. You accept the reaction, don't fight it, don't deny it. Accept that you're afraid. Then," the claw made a line cutting through both circles, "you act despite fear. Don't wait until fear is gone. Act with fear."
Ravindra stared at the line cutting through circles. Simple. Too simple for something that felt impossible.
"How?" The question came out weaker than he wanted. "How do I act when my body says run?"
"You start with something small." Auratigris stood, retreated ten paces back to starting position. "You breathe. Five seconds in. Hold five. Five out. Repeat until heartbeat begins to slow, not gone, just controlled."
Ravindra tried. Deep breath, cold air burning lungs, hold, exhale slowly. Repeat. Five times. Ten times.
Heart still beating fast. But slightly slower. Slightly more controlled.
"Good. Now, you focus on one thing. Not the whole guardian. Not the whole threat. Just one point. Choose."
Ravindra's eyes scanned Auratigris, the massive body so overwhelmingly large. But then he remembered: choose one point. He stared at the left eye. The blue eye. Only that.
"Good. The blue eye is your target. You don't care about claws. Don't care about fangs. Only the eye. You must touch that eye with your staff. That's the only goal. Win or lose doesn't matter. Only touch the eye."
Something shifted. Not large, Ravindra was still afraid, heart still beating fast, but something moved. Purpose. Focus. No longer "survive against guardian." Just "touch blue eye."
Smaller. Clearer. More possible.
"Good. Now, you move. Slowly. No need to rush. One step at a time. Toward your target."
Ravindra took the first step. Legs trembling but moving. Second step. Third. Each step bringing him closer to the guardian who could kill him in an instant, but focus on the blue eye made it not feel too large.
Five steps. Auratigris didn't move.
Seven steps. The guardian remained still, eyes staring without expression.
Eight steps. Ravindra was now close enough to see details, the way that blue eye moved like water currents, patterns constantly shifting within the iris.
He raised the staff, slow, no sudden movements, tip pointing at the blue eye.
Then, fast, faster than he thought he could, he thrust.
Auratigris moved.
Head tilted slightly, just inches, and the staff passed the target, hitting empty air. But then something surprising happened: the guardian's claw didn't counter-attack. Didn't strike Ravindra who was now open, defenseless.
The guardian only retreated one step, blue and gold eyes staring with something that might be approval.
"You attacked." Simple statement. "Despite fear. Despite knowing you would miss. You attacked."
Ravindra still stood in post-thrust position, staff raised, body trembling with leftover excitement. "I... I didn't touch the target."
"Doesn't matter." Auratigris sat, and suddenly no longer looked like a threat, just a weary mentor. "Today isn't about winning. Today is about acting despite fear. You did that. That's enough."
Something loosened in Ravindra's chest, not excessive joy, not great pride, just relief. He didn't die. He acted. He...
"But tomorrow," Auratigris continued, voice returning to the teacher's tone giving no slack, "you'll be faster. And the day after, faster still. And every day after until you actually touch the target. Until 'touch eye' becomes 'wound eye.' Until 'wound' becomes 'kill.'"
The last word hung in cold air like a sword.
"You're teaching me to kill guardians?" Ravindra wasn't sure if that was question or statement. The idea felt impossible. Absurd.
"No." Auratigris stood, turning toward the cave with decisive movement. "I'm teaching you to kill anything that stands in your way. Guardian, human, monster, there's no difference. If something tries to stop you from your goal, you must be able to destroy it."
They walked back in silence, Ravindra several steps behind, staff dragging in snow, leaving a long line like a wound on white surface.
A question emerged, unbidden: "Were you ever afraid?"
Auratigris stopped. Didn't turn back, but her head tilted slightly, sign she heard.
"Every day." The answer came softly, barely audible above wind. "I'm afraid I'll train you too well so you become a monster. Afraid I'll fail to train you and you'll die. Afraid one day you'll look at me and only see a tool, not anything more."
Vulnerability rarely appeared in the guardian's voice, so rare that Ravindra needed several seconds to recognize it.
"You're not a tool." Words came out before he thought. "You're the only family I have."
Long silence. Then, very softly, Auratigris continued walking. But there was something in her posture, the way wings folded slightly more relaxed, the way her head lifted slightly higher, that said those words were heard.
And accepted.
Inside the cave, warmth welcomed like an embrace. Ravindra placed the staff in the designated corner, the weapons training area always kept, then sat on the warm stone already as familiar as his own heartbeat.
Body ached, muscles he didn't know he had now screaming protest. Bruises would appear tomorrow where he fell. But there was something else too: satisfaction. Small, but real.
He acted despite fear.
He attacked a guardian.
He didn't die.
"Tomorrow," Auratigris said from the cave corner where small fire began to burn, lit with Aether-carrying breath, no need for wood or flint, "training will be harder. I won't be slow. Won't give slack."
"Good." Ravindra pulled the worn but still warm bear fur over his body beginning to shiver from combined exhaustion and fading excitement. "I don't need slack."
A small lie, he desperately needed slack. But there was something in saying it, in acting stronger than he felt, that made the words become slightly more true.
Fake it until you make it, perhaps. He didn't know that phrase. He only knew that sometimes, pretending you're not afraid is the first step to actually not being afraid.
Night came quickly as always. Ravindra lay with eyes staring at the cave ceiling, black stone he had memorized every crack and contour. The Aether mark on his hand pulsed softly, not painful, just present. A reminder that he was not an ordinary child.
He was a marked child.
A child trained by a guardian.
A child who today acted despite fear, and tomorrow would do it again, better, faster, more deadly.
"Auratigris?" His voice sleepy, one step from dreams.
"Hm?"
"Thank you. For not killing me today."
The sound from the cave corner might have been laughter, or as close as a guardian could laugh. Deep, rumbling sound like a distant, benign earthquake.
"I won't kill you, child. I'll only shape you until the world cannot."
And with those words as mantra, Ravindra fell asleep, not dreaming of fear, but of the day when he would stand on a real battlefield, facing real enemies.
And that time, he wouldn't miss.