The next morning, Silak's eyes snapped open even before the first slivers of dawn touched the horizon, a thrill of anticipation coursing through him. Today, his cultivation journey officially began.
He moved with brisk efficiency, tidying his sleeping area and changing his clothes before hurrying downstairs to await his parents. He didn't have to wait long. The sound of their footsteps approaching drew him to his feet. Excitement bubbled within him, evident in the wide grin that stretched across his face. "Good morning, Father and Mother!" he chirped.
"Hahaha!" Rajah Bayani's booming laughter filled the air. "It seems your mother underestimated your eagerness this morning." He chuckled, directing an amused glance at his wife.
"We needed to start before sunrise," his father explained with a gentle smile, "to allow us ample time to discuss and plan your cultivation training. I will oversee your physical conditioning and hunting, while your mother will guide you through the fundamental principles of cultivation."
"We both recognize your exceptional intellect and potential, Silak," Rajah Bayani continued, his voice filled with pride. "Therefore, we want to invest our full effort in supporting your progress." He outlined their plans for his training.
"I understand and will follow your guidance, Father," Silak replied, his voice firm with determination.
"Excellent. From dawn until midday, we'll focus on physical training. Your mother will then dedicate a few hours to your cultivation lessons, starting at dusk." He turned and gestured towards the garden. "Come with me." Silak followed obediently at his father's side.
"Don't push yourself too hard, alright?" his mother reminded him, her eyes twinkling with affection as she walked in the opposite direction.
Silak wasn't surprised by his parents' direct involvement in his training. The Tala ng Gubat tribe was renowned for its warriors, where training was an ingrained part of life for both men and women, though the intensity and eventual roles might differ. The responsibility for a child's early education rested squarely on the parents' shoulders, a tradition upheld across the tribe, regardless of social standing.
As they walked, a thought suddenly struck Silak. 'I was called the youngest prince... does that mean I have older siblings?' A slight hesitation crept into his voice before he spoke. "Father, I was wondering... did you also teach my siblings when they were younger?" He phrased his question carefully, hoping to glean information without revealing any particular worry.
Rajah Bayani sighed, a hint of melancholy in his voice. "Yes, we personally trained your siblings as well. However," he paused, his gaze distant for a moment, "our tribe's current cultivation resources are rather limited. We could no longer adequately support their needs or facilitate their advancement." A shadow of sadness flickered across his face, the weight of leadership evident in his expression.
'That explains why I haven't seen them around since I was born', Silak realized. "Could they have... gone on adventures far away?" he asked tentatively.
"Not exactly. They have gone to the nearest Academy to continue their cultivation," his father clarified, then offered a reassuring smile. "We are simply grateful for the extra time we get to spend with you, given your early start." He stopped walking and turned to face his son.
"Don't worry, Father! I will train diligently and become strong, powerful enough to assist you and Mother in the tribe's affairs!" Silak declared with all the earnestness he could muster. 'It's rather difficult to appear dignified with these chubby cheeks', he thought, a flicker of helplessness crossing his face.
"Hahahaha!" His father's laughter echoed through the garden. "We can discuss that more when you're a little older, alright?" A glint of moisture appeared in the corner of his eye, though Silak couldn't discern if it was from amuselment or something deeper.
Stepping into the lush garden, Rajah Bayani halted. "Here we are. I trust your mother provided some explanation about what we'll be doing today?" he inquired.
"Hm. Mother mentioned that our tribe's cultivation currently focuses on the mortal realm, the preparation of the physical body before true cultivation begins," Silak recalled, piecing together their conversation from the previous evening in the library.
"That is correct. Today's session is to gauge your current limits. However, understand that these are not your absolute limits, as you are still young and developing. The purpose is to tailor your training to best suit your age and physical state."
"Alright, let's begin. I need you to follow this list, and I need you to record how much you are able to complete. I trust your mother has already taught you how to read and write?" He produced a piece of parchment and handed it to Silak.
Silak reached out with his small hands and looked at the list.
Running: 00
Sprint: 00
Breathing: 00
Meditate: 00
Push Up: 00
Tree Climbing: 00
'Wait... this is it? How will this make me strong?' Disappointment flickered across Silak's face, plain for his father to see.
Rajah Bayani suppressed a smile, observing his son's changing expression. "What are your thoughts?" he asked.
"I apologize, Father, but is there a chance you picked up the wrong paper?" Silak asked, a hint of a grimace on his lips.
"No, you are holding the correct list. The first lesson I need to impart to you is a crucial teaching from our ancestors. Do not ask me the reason, for it has always been this way. Even at my age, I confess I still don't fully grasp the reason behind it. Maybe my cultivation is simply not yet strong enough for me to comprehend their intentions."
"I went through the exact same experience, with the same questions and doubts. So, believe me, I understand how you are feeling right now," he said, his voice laced with empathy.
'I suppose it is what it is. I didn't realize our tribe was currently so... lacking in resources', Silak thought, a wave of disappointment washing over him.
"So, Father," Silak began, his curiosity piqued despite his initial disappointment, "what is the first lesson traditionally passed down from our ancestors?" There was no use dwelling on what he couldn't change. He would simply have to learn as much as he could. He would find his own way to progress if the tribe's resources proved insufficient. Now he understood why his siblings had sought cultivation elsewhere.
Rajah Bayani unrolled a small scroll he had brought with him and began to read, his voice taking on a solemn tone. "Lesson One: Limitations are the shackles that bind our tribe. You must learn to understand the intricacies of these bonds. They manifest differently for each individual. For some, they are loose, a consequence of lesser potential. For others, they are so tight they threaten to stifle immense talent. The origins of these limitations, and the reason behind them, remain a mystery, lost to the annals of time. Understand that these limitations are both a curse and a blessing. Every shackle you break, every limit you surpass, will grant you power exceeding that of other cultivators. This holds true for the average member of our tribe, and even more so for those who are exceptionally gifted."
Silak pondered the words in silence. 'Our tribe is more complex than it initially appears. As for the source of these 'shackles,' that is beyond my current abilities, perhaps even beyond that of our ancestors.'
"So, Father," Silak said, breaking the silence, "it essentially means that I need to understand my current limitations by performing the tasks on this list, and then strive to overcome them, breaking these so-called chains. Is that correct?"
His father's eyes held a hint of pride at Silak's insightful understanding. "Precisely. By diligently undertaking this initial assessment, we will be able to identify the appropriate ancient texts and scrolls that can guide us in breaking your specific chains. You will follow this routine for an entire week, after which we will proceed to the next stage of your training."
"Okay! I will begin now, Father. See you later!"
Silak started with the running, his small legs pumping with determination. I wonder how far a two-year-old can go when every step is measured in mere inches, he mused.