Silva managed to maintain his composure as he walked back to his bedroom, but the moment he shut the door behind him, Silva collapsed to one knee as the growing discomfort he had felt swelled. With a forceful exhale and a clenched jaw, Silva muffled his cries of agony as his body began to burn.
But it wasn't a flame licking at Silva's skin that caused him pain; instead, the torturous sensation seared his body from the inside out, making his muscles seize up and spasm.
Before long, Silva's entire body was trembling visibly from the strain, and his veins swelled from the internal pressure. However, as Silva familiarized himself with the pain, he started to understand what was happening to him.
Without warning, Silva's spiritual roots had come alive, but instead of growing or moving about, they flooded Silva's physical body with what he could only describe as a thick, viscous sap, saturated with a potent vitality, as if life itself had been condensed. The sap didn't linger for long, however, as Silva's muscles readily absorbed the powerful natural treasure, saturating themselves with the powerful energy.
With the seemingly unlimited source of power, Silva's muscles experienced a surge of growth, swelling like water skins and writhing around like snakes under his skin. Silva could feel that his strength was undergoing a fundamental change. But the transformation was chaos incarnate, threatening to do far more harm than good if Silva didn't control it.
Despite the desperate situation and the immense flood of energy tearing his body apart, Silva's thoughts were calm and still like pond water as he forced himself to stand.
The simple action was enough to send a fresh wave of pain through Silva's legs as his explosive strength ripped his muscles apart. But with his body so full of raw vitality, hardly a breath passed before the damage was healed. In the process of healing Silva's injury, the surrounding muscles were drained of their excess vitality restoring the necessary balance.
A wave of confidence reinforced Silva's efforts as he continued to push through the pain, forcing his body to perform the first movement of the kata. Even if he wanted to, Silva doubted he could think of a better solution to his current predicament.
The kata was more than just a martial form; it was meant to train the body, targeting every muscle and its range of motion. Mastering it meant mastering movement and gaining complete control of the body.
And while Silva could barely be considered proficient even after passing the first stage of the Body Tempering Realm, he didn't need to execute the kata perfectly.
With slow and improper form, Silva forced his body through all fourteen movements, each one causing terrible pain as the engaged muscles were torn apart only to be healed back together. But with the cycle of growth and destruction, the potent vitality was channeled, becoming an immense boon as Silva's muscles were tempered and reforged.
When Silva completed the last movement, his body was drenched in sweat, but stronger than ever, made anew. Staring down at his hand, Silva clenched and unclenched his fist, feeling the raw power of his grasp.
However, the pure exhaustion that gripped Silva's mind and body robbed him of any possible excitement as he stumbled towards his bed and promptly collapsed, falling asleep before his head could even touch the mattress.
---
Silva opened his eyes to a sun lit room which felt strange as he had grown accustomed to waking up in complete darkness to being in training early in the morning. It was then that a flood of memories brought Silva up to the current moment and for a second he tensed, expecting his body to assault him with various aches and pains from the tribulations he had experienced yesterday. But there was no agony, in fact Silva had never felt better.
Despite this Silva's movement was hesitant as he slowly stood up, he could feel it, just beneath the surface of his skin, the explosive power demanding to be unleashed.
Curious just how strong he was, Silva settled into a basic martial stance and executed a simple punch. There was a whoosh as Silva's strike sent a wave of air crashing against the far wall of his bedroom where it collided with a solid thud.
Staring at his fist Silva couldn't suppress his shock, he had barely put any effort behind the strike yet the force behind it was undeniable. While breaking through the first stage of the Body Tempering Realm greatly increased a person's strength, Silva knew that whatever natural treasure his spiritual roots had tempered his body with was the true source of his newfound strength.
Silva then paused as a thought crossed his mind, 'Will my body be tempered with each breakthrough?'
Silva was paralyzed considering such a possibility, already his level of strength seemed extreme, but that was only to his past sensibilities, those of a simple human mortal. But now Silva was something far more, an enigma to even himself. However, Silva's path was one of growth, and to walk it, he needed to understand what would make him flourish and what would make him wither, and there was only one person who could possibly possess the knowledge Silva sought.
"I know why you did it."
Silva looked over from his window to the doorway of his bedroom and found his father standing there, his back straight and face set in a stoic mask, "Even if it was shortsighted, brash, and foolish…I understand why you did it."
Silva didn't respond, his father rarely had any reason to lecture him, but this time Silva's action had given him more than just cause.
Stepping into the room at Silva's silence, Buhara approached his son's bedside before crouching so they were at eye level. Meeting his father's gaze, Silva froze, seeing a rare glimmer of emotion. Suddenly the full brunt of what he had done hit Silva's heart and an overwhelming guilt squeezed his chest, "I'm sorry I worried you father, I-I…I just…I needed to try at least once, I couldn't take the pain of not knowing for certain."
"Even if it killed you," Buhara replied with a firm voice as he reached out and put his hand on Silva's shoulder, "Even if I wished you hadn't I can understand why you did, I'm just glad that the heavens decided you deserved a second chance."
Taking back his hand, Buhara flipped it over as a small, seeded pot appeared in his palm, "It will be some time before you're ready to resume your martial training with Fal, if you decide to. But in the meantime, I thought it would be good for you to have some activity to take up your time."
Silva looked down at the pot in his father's palm, from the dark soil a single plant rose, a small tree with a pale white trunk and vibrant green leaves, "What is this?"
"A bonsai tree, there are craftsmen who dedicate their whole lives to growing them." Buhara replied as he gestured for Silva to take the sapling.
"Does the Clan have one?" Silva asked as he held the pot in both hands and was surprised by how warm the clay felt, "Did you get this from them?"
"Yes and no," Buhara answered as a fond smile spread across his lips, "There are many who work on the Clan's greenery, but I did not get it from them. That tree was actually a gift."
"From whom?" Silva asked absently as he brushed his finger across the smooth trunk and felt a warmth seep through his skin.
Buhara hesitated for a second before answering, "It was from your mother."
Breaking free from the memory Silva exhaled grounding himself back in the present. He had always felt that the centerpiece of his garden was much more than a unique bonsai, but never could he have imagined the power it contained.
Which only led Silva to question how exactly his mother had come into possession of such a wonder and why she had left it in his father's care, and why he had gifted it to him.
When he was younger, Silva had often made it a point to ask his father about her, and though Buhara rarely indulged Silva's desires their interactions had revealed one key distinction.
Silva's mother was still alive, or at least she had been when Buhara had last seen her.
Even through his mortal years Silva's desire to find his mother had never vanished, and now with his rebirth that desire had grown exponentially. Only she knew the truth of his rebirth, the truth of his new origin; she was the key to understanding what had happened to him and what he was now.
But Silva had no doubt that there was a reason his father was so cautious, mentioning his mother, and if Buhara was hesitant, that could only mean the circumstances surrounding Silva's mother were enough to either threaten the Clan or Silva himself .
In either scenario, that meant Silva needed to be much stronger than he was now before he could begin looking into his mother's identity.
Fortunatel,y it seemed that he was already well on his way to fulfilling that requirement.