Dojo

As we exit the dining room Porter asks, “Did Jacqueline explain to you about the restricted areas in the mansion?”

“She did not mention any restricted areas.”

“Well, they are not truly restricted. It’s more of a cautionary guideline. Some areas have been repaired and maintained by the Butler to make sure that we are not exposed to the void. Basically on the west wing, we have repaired it enough to be safe. On the east wing, there are parts of the manner that are dangerous.”

“Jacqueline mentioned the dangerous areas this morning, but she didn’t mention exactly where those areas are.”

“We’ll show you,” Porter says as we make our way into the vestibule. He points to one of the hallways and says, “Don’t go this way. Just don’t go to the right when you’re looking at the door, anywhere on the left is safe. If you notice anything that needs fixing, please let us know. Could you specifically let Landon and Frank know that a repair is needed? We all try and make sure that we fix problems before they come up.”

“I can do that.”

“So,” Gage says with a fake yawn. “Now that the boring introductions are done where do we want to start today?” He looks at Porter. Should we show her the dojo or go on a patrol?”

“Go on a patrol?” I ask.

“In reality, we just walk around and make sure everything’s okay.” Porter says, “It’s not that exciting, the group that we have here now hasn’t had any issues but years ago, we had several who will call them problem individuals who… well are no longer with us. We have kept a routine of doing patrols to make sure things don’t go wrong. I’m not being clear here. Usually, the problem has to do with creative people who let curiosity get the better of them and that curiosity leads them to, how do I say… find things they weren’t hoping for and do things they didn’t want.”

“What does that mean?” I ask.

“Basically,” Gage interrupts, “it means to stay away from the east wing, it just has problems. If you stay out of there, everything’s safe.”

“When you patrol,” I ask, “do you focus only on the west wing or do you patrol the east wing as well?”

“While you are with us,” Porter says, “we will stick to the west wing. Occasionally, we will patrol the east wing to make sure that the closer areas are safe and don’t need repairs.”

“That all makes sense,” I say, “You’re mostly concerned about seeing the void and having that mess with your head.”

“Yes,”

“What happens if both of you see the void when you’re on one of these patrols and you both go crazy?”

“I like the way you think,” Gage says.

Porter interrupts, “Did you notice the window in your room last night?

“Yes, I noticed it was boarded up.”

“Your window was boarded up last night? I thought that was only in the recovery room.”

“Well, it had wooden panels in front of it.”

“I see, yes, we do have wooden shudders to help block out the light as we sleep, but behind we have stained glass windows on the other side of them. You can look out into the void through the glass. The void only affects people who look directly at it with their bare eyes. If you have goggles, which we have a couple of pairs of here, the void doesn’t seem to affect you. The only problem with the goggles are that they distort our vision because they’re made with stained glass. The goggles are meant for emergencies only, because they’re difficult to make. Frank and London are the ones who use the goggles the most when they go to do repairs.”

“I’m getting bored,” Gage says. “Let’s at least start a patrol while we talk.”

Porter nods.

“How adventurous are you feeling Sam? I can call you Sam right?”

“You can call me Sam. I’m feeling rather adventurous I’d say.”

“Perfect, follow me then.”

The three of us start walking down the hall and I couldn’t help but notice that they have a calm walk. I was expecting something a bit more like in the movies. Sneaking from wall to wall, peeking around corners, and issuing little hand signals instead of talking. Instead, they walk without making a sound but still look normal. They don’t look tense at all and they point out different areas as we pass by them. It was rather boring if I’m going to be honest.

As we descend down the staircase the walls change from the warm wooden panels to cobblestone. With every step, the air gets warmer as it gets darker. I turn and see that there are no lights going down the stairs only the lights from the hall above and a single candle at the bottom of the staircase.

At the bottom of the stairs are a few oak barrels tucked under the stairs and a single oak door. Gage grabs the candle off of the wall and says, “Have you noticed anything weird about the fire here?”

“No, I haven’t paid any attention to it at all.”

“Well, watch this.” He takes the candle and holds the flame up to his white sleeve. My heart jumps as I expect his arm to catch on fire but it doesn’t. The sleeve doesn’t even char. As he pulls the flame away it is as if he had never even put it against his clothes. “Fire only produce light here.”

“What do you mean by that?” I ask.

Gage chuckles, “They aren’t hot and they don’t burn. Here,” He pushes the candle at me. “feel the flame, there is no heat.”

I slowly reach out my hand and it doesn’t burn. Even as my skin makes contact with the flickering flame it doesn’t hurt or feel warm.”

“How many candles have you seen here?” Porter asks as Gage puts the candle back on the wall.

“I don’t know… a lot.’

“There are hundreds and hundreds of candles here, and yet not a single one produces heat. None of them can burn down our home.”

Gage smiles, “None except this one.” he says as he opens the door.

Gage walks in first and Porter motions for me to enter before him. As I walk in I get smacked in the face by a wave of heat that makes my eyes burn forcing them shut. I walk in a few more steps before my eyes start to adjust and I can open them.

There are no candles in this room. The only source of light is the blazing purple fire on the right side of the room. It flickers and moves casting moving shadows on the other side of the room. In the room, I can see what looks to be a blacksmith area. I see an anvil, with a hammer on top and other various tools that I cannot begin to describe what they are.

Gage turns to look at me, raises his hands, and says, “Welcome to the forge!” He motions over to the purple flame. “This fire is the only fire that can burn in the whole mansion.” Gage grabs a wooden log from the other side of the room and throws it into the fire and the ignites and a wave of light and heat crashes into me. The force is so strong that it pushes me back a step and I almost fall to the floor.

“Please be careful Gage,” Porter says, then he looks at me and puts a hand on my shoulder. “You be careful too. This is probably the most dangerous thing inside the mansion. This fire never burns out and is always burning hot. It has taken a life before so please be careful.”

“What do you mean it has taken a life before? You make it sound like it is alive.”

“A fire that never goes out in a magical manner might just be alive. In one of my first weeks here, someone was working down here and thought the fire was too hot. He tried to put some of it out and I watched as the flames jumped out at him and consumed him before he could get a sound out.”

“How long ago was that?” I ask as my eyes move from him to the fire.

“I’ve been here for eight years so far, and there hasn’t been another incident since. People use this fire for whatever they need but its main use is for blacksmithing,” He says as he motions over to the tools. “We just have to respect it and never try to put it out.”

Gage picks up another log and holds it out to me. “Your turn.” He says.

“I’m not sure I want to do that,” I say.

“You scared?” He asks waving the log in my face.

“Yeah, I don’t want to die.”

“Good,” Gage says as he tosses the log back on the pile of wood. “Remember that,” He says as he walks back to the stairs.

Porter places a hand on my shoulder and whispers, “Let’s go.”

I look back at the purple flame one more time before I step out of the room and Porter closes the door behind me.

The halls feel cold after being down there with that fire. We walk in silence for the first few minutes. The idea of losing someone like that and seeing it hurt me. I barely know anyone here yet, but I would be heartbroken if any of them died. It reminds me of what Landon said this morning when he said that it gets better here the more people show up.

As we walk I recognize where we are. We’re by the rooms and I hear someone walking around as we pass a door.

“Are everyone’s rooms here?” I ask.

“Yes,” Porter says. “We have room for more than double what we have right now, but not all the rooms have locks added onto them yet and need a couple of things fixed or cleaned.”

We walk the halls for what feels like ages. I swear that we are just walking around in circles. We end up stopping at a set of double doors.

“Our next stop,” Porter says as he nods at the doors. Gage walks in leaving the door open for me to follow. The room matched all the other ones except this one is a mess. There are tables all over the place with piles of junk covering them. The floor is scratched up and stained with grease and it smells like metal and fresh cut wood. In the room are Frank and Landon. Frank seems busy working on a table of scraps and Landon is sitting in a chair kicked back with his feet on a desk. He has in his hands a small chunk of wood and a knife.

Landon looks up and throws his hands into the air saying, “Ahh, visitors. I was wondering when you would come to your senses and join us in the most thrilling room in all the mansion!” He sets his piece of wood on the desk. “In reality, it’s nice to see you,” he looks at Gage, “Well most of you.”

Gage walks up to Landon and wraps his arm around him. “I know that you aren’t talking about the new girl and it sure as hell isn’t me, after all, I am your favorite person here.” Gage gives Landon a noogie.

Landon pushes off Gage and says, “Right.”

“So what brings you by?” Frank calls out from his desk. “Or are you just here to mess with Landon?”

Porter says, “We’re just giving Samantha a tour as we go on patrol. We started with the forge and I figured this would be a fun place to visit next.”

“Fun…” Landon whispers.

“Yes, Fun!” Gage says slamming the palm of his hand into Landon’s back three times.

“We are also here to check on our commission,” Porter says.

“Oh yes!” Landon says taking a step away from Gage. “What was it that you commissioned?” He heads over to a book on one of the desks and picks it up.

“We commissioned…” Porter starts to say.

“Ah Ah Ah…” Landon interrupts as he runs his finger down the page. “It says here that you ordered a couple of sticks.”

“Jo staffs.” Porter Corrects.

“Potato Tomato,” Landon says as he moves his hand across the page. “It says that we just finished your order this morning and it’s on workstation 11.” He slams the book shut and says, “Let me get that for you.”

Landon wanders over to a table and picks up a couple of sticks that are maybe one foot long and tosses them over to Gage. “Will those work?”

“Ha Ha,” Gage says. “You know this isn’t what we ordered. Are they done or not?”

Frank moves from his desk and says, “Yes they are done.” He walks to a shelf on the wall and grabs two cloth bags that aren’t very wide but are roughly four feet long. He walks them over to Porter and hands him the bags. “I asked Lila to make you a case for them like the ones from the book you gave us. It should have enough space to hold the training swords that you requested a few weeks ago as well.”

Porter takes the bags and throws the strap over his shoulder. “Thank you, Frank.”

Frank turns around and starts looking at the tables. “Don’t thank me, woodworking is Landon’s specialty. He made them.” He picks up a book from the table and hands it to Porter.

“So we know who to blame when they break,” Gage says eyeing Landon.

“Or who to thank when you realize the craftsmanship of my work.” Landon snaps back.

“Sure,” Gage says.

“Thank you,” Porter smiles with a slight bow. “Despite the teasing, you are both welcome to join us. Our next stop is the dojo.”

“Thanks,” Frank replied, “But no thanks. You know I don’t like fighting.”

Landon wanders back to his desk sits in his chair propping his feet up and says, “Gee I would but I’m super busy here.” He leans his head back and closes his eyes.”

“Well,” Porter says, “The offer is still open. See you later.” He turns to leave and holds the door open for me and Gage.

“The dojo is right around the corner,” Porter says. “How are your legs doing?”

I hadn’t thought of them but they are starting to feel weak. My whole body feels sore. I smile at Porter, “I’m fine.”

There is no door to the dojo. As you walk in you have to walk down three steps into a sunken room that looks like it’s from The Karate Kid. There’s wooden paneling across all of the walls and white cloth with Japanese words in black ink in between the wooden panels.

In the center of the room, there are mats, similar to what we would set up in gym class. Across the room, there are two benches in the shape of an L.

“This is the dojo,” Porter says.

“This place looks awesome,” I say as I reach out and brush my hand along the cloth walls. It is smooth and flexes with my touch.

“Let’s stretch out,” Porter says. “But first, take off your socks and shoes and you may want to put some pants on under that dress or change altogether.”

“What would you recommend?”

“Change,” Gage says. “We have spare Gi’s here for anyone who wants to join us.”

Porter walks over to a wall and slides it open revealing a closet with several white uniforms in it. He grabs one and hands it over to me. “There’s a changing room over here.” He slides another panel over and it reveals another door.

I get changed and meet them back on the mats. We spend the next ten minutes or so stretching. It wouldn’t have taken so long but I haven’t stretched much and they were being patient with me as they walked me through them step by step.

“Let’s test these bad boys out!” Gage says pulling out two staffs from one of the bags. Looking them over he says, “Eh, I guess they will do.” Then he tosses one over to Porter.

Porter looks it over and says, “This seems perfect.” He walks over to me and hands me the staff. “Would you like to try?”

“Uhh, Sure…” I take the staff. “Are we going to fight with these?”

“Not yet,” Gage says. “Porter and I will but you clearly have never fought with anything like this before so we are going to teach you how to use it first.”

Porter grabs the book and a Jo staff from the other bag. He starts flipping through the pages and props it open on one of the benches. He stands in the front of the room and says, “You two face each other.”

Gage and I stand roughly five feet apart and face each other.

“Start by taking the Jo in your right hand and bow to your opponent.”

“I thought you said we wouldn’t be fighting,” I say.

“You won’t,” Porter says. “This is what is known as a kata. It’s a bunch of forms that flow from one into the other that help teach how to use the Jo.”

“Okay,” I say and bow to Gage as he bows to me.

The kata is weird. We do a bunch of motions of stepping forward and back while stabbing and smacking the Jo staffs against an invisible target. It is very tiring and I work up quite a sweat. After about thirty minutes of doing the same five motions or so I’m out of breath.

“Take a break,” Gage says. When you feel up to it you can take a shower. It should be lunchtime soon.”

“Sure,” I say breathlessly. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“We can walk you there,” Porter says.

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