 |
|
Sign Up to Submit Fictions and Earn Credibility! |
 |
|
 |
 |
 |
|
|
Author: nameless
605 Views
0 Comments
|
IV – Training for better or for worse?
And so I trained. I trained hard. Most of the day he would have me work around town doing odd jobs, and I never knew why. He said it was to learn how to keep busy, that always having a goal would always keep my mind out of the gutter. I just smiled and nodded, waiting for the day I would learn the big secret to power.
I waited and waited, but the secret never came. Day after day of working and coming home exhausted just to hear him go on and on about the God’s and our duties was having my toll on me. “When will we start training?” I asked him one day.
He put down the book he was reading to me and looked at me smiling. “We have been training.” He said simply smiling. “We’ve been training for years.”
I shook my head. “I’ve been studying and working for years. I haven’t fought once yet.”
“Training is not all fighting.”
“But you said that Monks perfect their bodies into finely tuned weapons?”
He nodded. “They do. And they do this with the sheer power of their mind. We must train your mind before we can train your body.”
“And all the work?”
He got up walking to the counter and picking up a piece of bread. “The work is for food. You like to eat don’t you?” He took a bite smiling. “You have to work to get ahead in this life; you can’t just go around trying to steal everything you need. If anything else that is what I’m trying to teach you the most.”
I looked at him with a smirk. “Mugging people is work.”
He shook his finger at me. “Not the work to be doing if you want to be great! You want to be known don’t you?” He said staring at me. “You don’t want to be nameless and unknown forever do you?”
I shook my head. “No.” Was all I could silently muster as he looked away getting me a piece of bread.
“I can get you you’re name. But you must trust me.”
I had never trusted anyone in my life and he knew this. But living with him for years had softened me up a bit, and so I agreed that day to trust him, agreed to do as he instructed without question. But still I was harboring thoughts of my own. In Freeport being good and nice only got you killed or worse.
It was soon after my fourteenth birthday that he had taken me out in back of the store that he had bought and told me that it was time.
“Time for what?” I asked wiping my hands. The store was a bakery; one of my many jobs was to learn to cook, so I wouldn’t have to steal. Again a lesson I never really understood…but one I put up with to get stronger.
“Time to fight me.”
I looked at him to see if he was serious, a little surprised. “What?”
He smiled. “You heard me.” He looked at me. “Prepare yourself!” His voice denoted his seriousness as I held up my hands just in time to block a punch. It pushed me back against a nearby wall and the suddenness of the pain shook me.
I hadn’t fought in so long I had almost forgotten about the pain, and after feeling it the memories came flooding back, and with them the urge. I pushed off the wall jumping at him with a barrage of punches that he never saw coming. He was able to block a few but surprising to even me I was able to get most of them few.
He came back at me of course, but I was too quick for him, easily able to avoid his bigger body and retaliate hitting him in the side or back as he shot past me. It was almost too easy as I took a step back and held up my hand. “You’re playing with me.” I said.
He wiped some running blood from his nose. “Why do you say that?”
“You tell me how powerful monks are, how powerful you are…and then I fight for the first time in three years and am able to win against you?” I shook my head with a frown. “I don’t buy it.”
“I am trying to test you, not kill you.” He said simply, neatly rubbing the dirt and wrinkles out of his vest.
“No!” I screamed, my eyes tearing. I was hit with a flood of emotions that I had no explanation over, and it was his fault. “You lied! You said we were going to fight, and by holding back you are lying! And you wanted me to trust you…” I trailed off at the realization that I did actually trust him, I did actually care…and this is what was causing all these feelings.
“And do you trust me?” He asked, still completely calm as if these feelings were his intention.
I shook my head blinking away the tears. “I don’t think I will anymore.”
“Well we can’t have that.” He said cracking his knuckles. “You truly want me to fight you fully?” I looked at him again to make sure he was honest, and then solemnly nodded raising my fists. He nodded and sighed. “To keep your trust.” I nodded again. “Ok.”
He nodded slowly and raised his fists again, but this time he didn’t come at me, but stayed there still. I remember rushing him with a smile, the feelings of power and the rush of excitement pumping through me, then so quickly fading away as he completely dodged out of the way of my punch. I remember it so much probably since it was the last thing I remember before I blacked out.
|
|
|
|
 |
|
 |
