The iron metal ring of Bel Sar’s staff struck the granite flat stone slab on Breath Eleven with the dull, underground boom of a quarry drop-hammer. Because Bel’s Distributing Weight Bronze focus was designed to travel through solid matter rather than scatter into the air, the granite slab didn’t crack under his staff butt. It became a six-foot stone anvil transmitting a focused, upward percussion wave straight through the soles of Seyun’s boots before his heel could leave the stone.
The blast wave bypassed the flexible willow rim of the bowl fully by hammering upward through Seyun’s calcaneus, shinbones, knees, and spine. Had Seyun kept his knees locked in a standard high walking stance, the upright jolt would have launched the light powdery ash two inches straight up out of the shallow dish.
Only eleven years of foundation horse-stance conditioning saved the bowl on Breath Twelve. Seyun felt the granite hum beneath his sole. Then, he unlocked both ankles and hips. He dropped his balance point six inches toward the floor while spreading a thin, flat cushion of Flame breath beneath the woven reed bottom of the dish. His calves and thighs took the full upward hammer-blow like living carriage springs while his hands sank smoothly to match the fall of the ash.
