He raises a brow and before I can blink, he’s behind me. A khanjar blade that I hadn’t seen him unsheathe digs into my back. ‘I’ll have you know I was the clan’s most promising martial artist before I abdicated. Besides, the senior monks are great warriors.’
‘Dunya says the senior monks are senile and old,’ I say quietly.
‘Have you no respect for your elders?’ he gasps.
‘N-no, I mean, yes! I respect all elders,’ I protest before I feel his body shake against me in silent laughter.
‘Try to fight back.’ He prods the dagger harder until my back aches. Instinctively, my hand raises, and I fall into the well of pain resonating from my back, going deeper until I find the hurt, the grief – the fear of losing another place to belong. My hand shudders before a wisp of nur materialises at my fingertips. The silver light hardly flickers.
Older Brother chuckles. ‘At least summon the affinity. You cannot even threaten me properly.’ He releases his blade.
‘Even if you know the martial arts, you aren’t an Eajiz. What do you know of affinities?’ I retort.
‘Well, I hadn’t anticipated our first lesson starting so soon. By God, you’re greedy.’
‘First lesson?’
He crosses the room and takes an agarwood incense stick from the burning fumer. Before I can react, he shoves the incense close to my mouth and I choke, ashy smoke clogging my throat, puffing out of my nostrils in a seething burn. Just as quickly, he retracts it.
‘Lift your hand,’ he orders calmly. ‘Breathe the incense inwardly and say any prayer.’
My throat and eyes sting through the smoke. ‘Mad monk, I-I thinkyouneed the prayer.’ I cough and sputter.
‘The prayer is not necessary, but for a novice Eajiz like yourself, prayer will focus your attention. Any prayer to the Heavens will suffice; it could be spoken or said silently in your heart. It could be stories, poetry, odes about holy warriors, the Divine’s seventy-seven names or any remembrance of faith.’ He shrugs.
‘I cannot say a prayer; I can hardly think through this smoke,’ I wheeze out. Instead, I reach desperately into the pain – the fear quickly rising – and my nur sputters from my fingers.
‘No.’ Older Brother seems to read through my efforts. ‘You are reaching instinctually into pain,again. That’s an unreliable method to summon your affinity, it corrupts the soul. Think of the Heavenly Crane. To summon, you must nurture your relationship with the Heavens through humility and prayer. Repeat this simple prayer in your head:Most Abundant, Most Merciful, strengthen my affinity’s bonds with the Heavens.’
He waits. Reluctantly, my eyes shut. Through the cloud of incense, I obey him.
A pinch in my finger forces my gaze to reopen, revealing a small burst of white Heavenly light: nur.
I gawk. Then, unexpectedly, a gold line rises out of my finger into a thin shimmering rod. The gold line lifts upwards like a stem, plunging into the apothecary’s ceiling and disappearing, as if immaterial. It seems separate from the nur.
Everything vanishes – the pain pressing against my throat, the fear, the tightness in my chest, the loudness of my thoughts. It loosens. A strange quietness engulfs my senses like I am beneath water. My hand jerks but the gold line remains above my finger.
‘How do you feel?’ Older Brother asks, almost in wonder at the nur.
‘Like... like my soul is no longer in pain,’ I gasp out, my nerves thrumming as if the Heavens were plucking at the strings of my heart.
‘With prayer, your attention is honed and your emotions at peace, strengthening your Heavenly bonds. That’s how you summon your Eajiz affinity,’ he says. ‘Think of a seed planted in the dirt, it sprouts roots upon roots. Roots carry nutrients to the stem. For every Eajiz, your roots are your bonds with Heaven. The bond carries energy from the Heavens to your soul to summon the affinity. Without bonds, you are not an Eajiz. This is your Heavenly Contract.’
Sweat breaks against my neck from maintaining the nur. ‘I’m confused. Why did you shove incense down my throat?’
Older Brother gives a secretive smile. ‘You doubted my ability to teach you. Incense and meditation are other forms of prayer to help a novice expand their Heavenly bonds. And I wanted an excuse to poke you with a stick.’
‘Mad monk,’ I mutter.
‘Your affinity is nur: cosmic light,’ he continues. ‘Every Eajiz has their own affinity, different from each other, depending on how Heaven chooses to bless them. There are seventy-seven total affinities.Every affinity comes from the feathers of the Heavenly Birds, creatures connected to the Heavens. And thus, as an Eajiz, you are bonded to the Heavens and the blessed birds, and therefore to nature.’ He glances at my hand and then away. ‘I wish I could see your Heavenly bonds. I’ve only read ancient codexes, accounting the earliest affinities of Eajiz monks.’
I reach out to graze the thin gold line, but my fingers pass through the incorporeal bond. Older Brother watches the light on my palm, and a glint – of awe, maybe envy – flashes in his gaze.
‘You cannot see this gold line above my hand?’ I ask.
‘Which line?’ A frown pulls at his lips and his next words come out quickly. ‘Is it your Heavenly bond?’
I close my fist and the white nur disappears. ‘Nothing.’ I cough out more incense through a glare. He could see my nur but he cannot see the bond above my hand. Perhaps only other Eajiz can see them.
