Ghost Monkey, стр. 55

Taro Taro laughed. "Big talk a minute ago. The moment you're under something solid, you're a little girl? That's too bad. If you don't have the stones for this, just let me know and I'll release you."

"Did you just make a joke?" he grumbled. "Are you going to make a lot of those?"

"We have you for 21 days. I am making a lot of jokes."

For seven days, Sugriva was buried in rock to his neck. When the sun rose, he heard the spirits pray. He closed his eyes and joined in, wishing he had taken the lotus form before the earth hardened around him. Then Taro Taro would say something along the lines of, "Are you still rock hard for this abuse?" She laughed deep and obnoxious with every pun. Sugriva could hear the other two Ashtadash sigh. Then Wazi would give him some water to drink. This happened again as the sun was setting.

On the final day, the rock turned to dirt and Sugriva scrambled out of the cauldron. A small feast of berries, vegetables, and fruits waited for him. Ishva said, "You can eat as soon as you get the dirt out of the cauldron."

"But—" He scowled, then screamed, "It's been seven days! Taro can remove it with a gesture. You can't be serious."

Taro handed him a stone shovel. "Get digging."

The sun rose when Sugriva started, and it was at its zenith by the time he finished. Then he feasted the rest of the day.

"Tomorrow morning we start the water ceremony. Until then, rest. I doubt you slept much." Ishva gave a small smile to Sugriva, as he devoured food. It was the look of a proud teacher.

The following day he sat lotus style in the cauldron, hands on his knees, fingers touching. He closed his eyes and prayed along with the spirits. Water sloshed up and over the cauldron, filling it until Sugriva's neck was barely above water level. "The next seven days you will sit in water until it seeps into you and opens you up to Paanee's blessing."

Wazi was no Taro. She did not make puns. She no longer gave water; Sugriva was expected to drink out of the cauldron. Golden hairs floated and glistening ebbs swirled where his grease interacted with the water. Even bits of charcoal, stripped from the corrupted parts of his body, stewed in his drink. The seven days went significantly faster. The ability to fidget and move was a great boon. Seven days passed, and on the final day Wazi said, "Sugriva, you must empty the cauldron. Then you can feast."

A bucket was tossed over the side of the cauldron, and Sugriva filled it and tossed it out, while drinking as he felt the need. By noon he was finished, and he joined the three spirits to eat. Ishva said, "Tomorrow you will have off. We will pray from sun up to sun down. This is to honor the air which could not be with us. Perhaps in your travels you will find a spirit who can open you up to the wisdom the air holds."

So the next day they meditated and prayed all day and feasted that night. Ishva grinned when they were going to sleep. "Tomorrow you are mine, and I will open you up to the passion found within fire. Then you will complete the ritual and you can learn the elements in earnest."

It was like something struck Sugriva. "Wait, I’ll be an elementalist, open to all the magic except air?"

Ishva laughed. "Your eyes are filled with wonder. You didn't know what we were doing? Magic takes years to obtain, and most die on the path. You need the will to survive."

"Corruption would have twisted me long ago if I didn't have the will." He scratched at a sore caused by chaos. They were becoming easier to ignore, but when brought up, they itched as if crying out for attention.

The following morning, before the sun was up, Ishva woke him. "Get in the cauldron. The sun will be up soon, and if you are not in the cauldron before the sun rises, all is for nothing and we will have to start the ritual over."

He bounded into the cauldron, and as he landed in it, thinking back to how he was opened to earth and water, his heart sped up. "Wait," he said, and, as if in response, a lid slammed over the top. He tried pushing against it, tried opening it, but he couldn't. It was too heavy, and he didn't have his staff. Monkey cursed, then said, "Ishva, what happens—" and then, as if to answer, the lid turned, a hole was revealed, and the sun was let in. It shot straight into Sugriva's eyes, blinding him temporarily and giving everything a shadow.

He sat down, rubbing his eyes furiously. "Is it just the sun? That's what opens me up?"

"No," Ishva said, and she said no more. Within a few minutes, the cauldron was hot enough that Sugriva was uncomfortable. Combined with the humidity of the jungle, he was a sticky mess. He remained in his janaav form, though it was immensely uncomfortable with the fur. However, he feared as a man he would succumb to the heat and die.

As evening approached, he prayed for relief from the suffering but found no comfort. The sun heated the cauldron, and the jungle was hot enough that the heat retained through the night. Sugriva could not sleep. He endured and the corruption grew and waned. By the third day, Sugriva begged, "I am not strong enough for fire. Ishva, give me mercy."

"We made an agreement, Sugriva. Death or awakening. You are halfway to being awakened, or just a short moment from death. Make your decision, but know there is an entire world which will rely on your desire to live."

He suffered the next several days, sweating in a ball at the bottom of the cauldron, moaning every now