Chapter 155: Motivation, path, and pain of Sarey 2/2

The tension in Allan's body drastically lessened in the incoming minutes. His mind soon drifted to the unknown. He fell asleep, same as usual.

“Same as ever,” Sarey mumbled. The last piece of the needle went straight into the section around Allan's spine after 10 minutes of work. Sarey was fast, and this can allow her new motivation to start.

“I have around an hour and a half before they need to be put out. That is plenty of time for my little training.” Sarey said as she, this time, did not lie down by Allan's side.

She pushed her robe away from her shoulders, revealing a robe uniform underneath. Her eyes gleamed with resolute eyes as if she was deciding on something she had no choice over. Taking a last glance at Allan's face, she couldn't help but pinch his cheeks, seeing if he was asleep. And oh he was.

“Sleepy boy… I will do what you take, give, and feel. You motivate me as if I can do this. No for you, but myself. Pa” she mumbled, looking back to the room to see a large closed window.

Getting up from Allan, she went to the window and opened up. A gust of wind flickered her golden, still-wet hair. Her eyes were still resolute, filled with a decision she wanted. No! She needed it. The window faced a backyard, while the night was in full bloom. It wasn't so windy outside, nor it was too dark thanks to the moonlight.

Jumping out to the backyard Allan's room faced, Sarey walked to the familiar tree which looked the same as far as she could remember. Old looking with the possible decades or hundreds of years of growing history, this tree represented memories so old, she couldn't even fathom them.

She jumped to the pole that was neatly secured within the branches and began the source of her hope.

Pulling herself up and down, she was grasping the pole as if her life depended on it. 10, 13, 46, 80. 100 pull-ups were done in a matter of 4 minutes, turning her face ashen, unkept, and a bit fuzzy.

Letting go of the pole, her expression was that of conviction, yet sweat appeared around her cheeks. “Speed is not optimal for me. I am different than Allan, to begin with. Only courage, hard work, and stubbornness can be of use to me. Right…” Sarey mumbled, glancing at the unmoving strands of grass as she rested beneath the pole for a minute or so. As she did so, she also pulled a piece of paper as well as ink with a pen from underneath her uniform. It had surprisingly hidden pockets. In the paper was a half-finished diagram of her own body.

Only half, so she began working on it while maintaining vigor and hope. One has to have a good understanding of the body to pull it off, so Sarey used her newly acquired knowledge from 36, her experience with Allan, and mainly, her perception of her own body.

Stopping only within the first few dozen strokes, she resumed the pull-ups with the same intensity as before, but at no better speed.

She went further up at a greater speed while getting down in a slower motion. This had some importance within her new project, which she wanted to use on herself.

It was a part of the book she 36 gave her. Copies and texts of the general way of acupoints caused her quite a few surprises, allowing her to understand a lot about them. Enough so, that she wanted to experiment with some of her own diagrams.

Another 100 pull-ups later, in the same amount of time, Sarey began to work on the diagram once again. It was a serene night while the light of the moons illuminated her paper with enough light.

She did not talk afterward. Her thoughts were fine to stay within her mind, as this was a decision that she made herself. Exercising in this matter – at night when everyone was sleeping – may not be optimal, but she wasn't as physically gifted, nor she was pushing herself as hard in the day as Allan. She always had plenty of stamina left from the day, while she spent a lot of her time by herself at night. It had always been like that. Even before she met Allan, albeit with different motives, the content of her night, and so on.

Apart from the following pull-ups, she also did push-ups and other exercises. After these hours, she will go to sleep and do another few series before having breakfast. Hence, her sleep wasn't the longest, but it was enough for her. At night, she could push her limits further, since it was quite a comforting time of the day for her. Even through these exhaustive exercises, after sleeping she would be left in a sensible, yet not entirely exhausted body.

“I can take much more than this!” She thought to herself, straining her arms that felt like thousands of bricks. In the end, she pushed beyond the 1000th pull-up, but this has been her limit of doing them for 1 hour.

Checking her arms, shoulders, and back with her palms. She was feeling the muscle fibers, veins, and her unhinged trembles with her fingers. Such touch provided the necessary information about the stress that she was causing herself. Gritting her teeth, she was tired. So tired.

Though, this has been her decision, so she did what she could to live according to them. Pulling the paper once again, she wanted to perform a self-implicated acupoint treatment on the parts of her back she could reach, as well as her arms that should be easier to manage.

She found some usable diagrams, the similar kinds she used on Allan. Some of them were half done within the 36's book or the pages which had more completed ones, filled with descriptions.

Those were enough for her to get a gist of a possibility. Using her own body as an experimental tool, she could do exactly that. It wasn't in her conscience to experiment on Allan, so it was her only choice.

Mortals could have their own ways to achieve something that they desired. Yet the ones who did succeed were in very few numbers. Most would stop within the limits of their possibilities, as the road and the world was as harsh as how incredibly vast it is. Knowledge of what lies beyond was not known to many.

When someone is given a chance of looking at the enormous universe they live in, certain desires will slowly, or quickly resurface within their minds. It could be questionable if it was a good thing or not, but no one could question human desires. Each individual had their own life. Ego, heavy desires, dreams, and things to pursue, or protect.

Sarey couldn't go past the thousand pull-ups. Her stiff shoulders were a hurdle that made it impossible. The achiness and numbness made it unable for her to continue with pull-ups, or follow the following exercises. She overworked herself, unfortunately. She could not pull her weight with her arms alone, nor it would be possible the support the back which was intimately connected to the shoulders.

She clutched her pen, glancing at the paper that was her project for who knows how many days. Huffing and groaning, she felt her arms turning numb.

“You can continue Sarey. You can continue with this.” She mumbled twice to cheer herself. It didn't work. Though, it was quite worse. She couldn't press her hands calmly enough to write. Her fingers were even shaking, making her grab her two palms and clutch her chest. She was that close to weeping, yet she didn't start. She didn't want to.

Shaking her hands, and palms against each other, she managed to turn the diagram on the paper to her face.

“It's just a diagram… nothing that could change my fate, but I refuse to stop in trying. It would be a betrayal,” she said. “A betrayal of my own self.”

Without being completely sure, Sarey grabbed the 2 sets of acupoint needless she bought when she visited the Griontesse smithies with Allan. This one was something she didn't intend for Allan, but for herself. The needles were finely made, and there were no indistinct differences from the others.

One was for her, while the second was one in a similar style as the one she brought way back. One could not use different needles within sets. They could have different lengths, widths, tips, and flexibility. Using a simpleness to accomplish greatness was thus, quite a nice saying.

Sarey grabbed a needle with her right hand and revealed her shoulders underneath her robe-like uniform.

Just as she wanted to insert the needle into a spot she knew about, Sarey stopped herself, shaking her head. “No…No… This is not the way.” She punched the ground with her right hand, which was still shaking. With frustration and a mixture of disappointment, she couldn't do what she desired.

“How many days it has even been… I am already past the thousandth within an hour and a half. Should I not be satisfied with such a feat?” She questioned herself in a try to calm her spirit.

She didn't find an answer for that tonight.

Forcing herself up, she massaged her shoulders in a way Allan taught her instead of doing something that she would regret. It was better this way, and right she was. Sarey had an immense issue. Her own progress would never give her any positivity for herself. No ego boost, to say the least. Since she was prone to the problem of comparing others to herself, this bound her will, and mind, causing her to have an inner demon, by immortal standards.

It would take more than some self-reflection on her path and even a long period will be spent before she would find herself within her frustrations.

Picking her stuff from the ground, and pulling her robe back across her exposed shoulders, Sarey went back to Allan's room from the open window. She didn't smile, not felt good. She was tired, but tomorrow, she would be fine.

In all this time, Sarey was completely obvious to a figure who lay beyond the window, casually laying on the roof. Resting his back against the chimney, it was Zigmund, who was glancing at the starry night, while still tossing the emblem with unknown thoughts across the night sky. It was not clear if he even glanced at the stars, or was aware of Sarey's presence which was very close to his field of vision. Perhaps he did, but his reason for coming here was not her, or anything else. He was in no mood within the warmth of the bed he was so used to in the past years.

“Allan is stubborn, but a good kid. Sarey is stubborn yet is my daughter.” Zigmund mumbled. The gust of wind carried his dull voice far away, making them unheard by anyone. He talked for a good while, yet Sarey never heard him, nor noticed him.

“While they are that. Kids, that are yet to see the world, I am stubborn as well, and old. Old… Stubborn that and this. Perhaps even a world is one since it never wanted to care, or give me a break.” Zigmund mumbled as he kept playing with the three-lion-headed emblem with various thoughts.