o shut loudly.
Name. What should my name be?
A month passed.
My name is still undecided. I don want to rush it. My name is my identity. My being. I have decided my birthday though. I decided it will be on the 34th month on the 8th day. This world seems to be an awkward parralel to Earth. It has 36 months and an average of 12 days in a month. I don even understand how the astrolodgy works out.
Unfortunately, I doubt my guardian is the type to heave gifts on ones birthday.
My training has advanced slightly. I can form the ball in 7.4 seconds and my Lotus Step has become more refined. Id argue I could beat a beginner by now in terms of strength.
Ive begun going on long strolls. There is little to no life in the smog lands.
I went on a particularly long walk today, taking in a large amount of the strong odour of smoke.
I found a ravine of sorts, I was sitting by a silver tree when I saw a snake-necked bird fly over the ravine.
Curious, I watched as it flapped wildly and cruelly.
I watched in boredom as it flew over my head, yet watched in paralysis at what happened after.
An invisible force, grabbed the bird by the neck. Dragging it down the ravine, I dared not look over.
Sweat streamed down my body as my knees trembled uncontrolabbly.
I hid in the grass for hours. Inhaling the now deathly odour of smoke.Even prompting a questionable look from my mentor when I returned later that day.
Over the following weeks I took more and more strolls, observing this ominous force of nature. No major training advancments were out yet I concluded something much worse than a stagnation in my training.
This was no force of nature.
This was a monster. A creature. Alive.
I begun experiments and tests the following week.
I begun by throwing down a stick. Then another. Then two at once. And so on.
Next I threw a rock. Then another. Then two at once. And so on.
Later, I found a small scaly lizard by my sole.
I picked it up and crossed the smog lands.
I threw it into the air above the cranky ravine.
Like time stopped the frog flew through the air, towards the other side.
Then time resumed. Nature, even.
The frog was clenched in an invisible hand. And dragged to the depths of the ravine.
There was something down in this ravine. And it was hungry. I dared not think of the consequences of going down myself. Who in their right mind would do such a thing.
I decided to stay away from the ravine. I trained as I had done for months again and and again. Pushing the ravine to the back of my mind and stomping out any sparks of curiosity that rose.
I swore to myself that I would never go near that ravine again.
Not if I was feeling less than suicidal.
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