“SWING!”
Thorne held his sabers up with trembling arms and swung! The boulder cracked and split under the heavy impact of Thorne’s saber, but it was not over. Shrapnel flung out, raining viciously down toward Thorne’s trembling figure. He lifted his other saber in an upward arc and then did the same with the other. Thorne swirled his blades, ignoring the pestering of his exhausted body to just lie down. A whirlwind of dust exploded as Thorne spun, hit, and dodged, desperately doing everything he could to survive.
A fist-sized rock emerged from the cloud of sandy dust.
‘Too fast!’
Thorne knew that he couldn’t duck or dodge. It was impossible. There was another option, though: momentum. Thorne used the momentum from his previous attacks on the flying debris. He pivoted on his heel and locked his arm, bringing his blade to strike the rock in a perfect horizontal line. Like butter, the rock split in half and fell pitifully to the sand surface.
Swiveling his head, Thorne scanned the area swiftly.
‘Nothing.’ Thorne sighed in relief.
He sat down cross-legged, allowing his fatigued body a moment of reprieve. When Master Khal said he would be training for three days, Thorne had expected many things, but not this. He had been training since Master Khal had talked to him. No sleep. No food. Thorne didn’t even know how long he had left. Initially, it had been all right; Master Khal had taught him the basic swings, techniques, and proper form. Yet after Thorne demonstrated a rudimentary understanding of the fundamentals, Master Khal stayed true to his spectrum. He pushed Thorne into a chaotic, nonstop training regime.
Tap, tap, tap.
Thorne got up and opened his eyes. What would it be this time?
‘More beasts, another student, maybe this time it would be Master Khal himself.’ Thorne thought to himself deliriously. When his baggy eyes gazed upon the source of the sound, one thought overpowered all the others.
‘Have I gone insane?’
Master Khal walked toward him heavily. Each step he took produced a crater in the sand due to his incredible mass.
Struggling, Thorne raised his two blades in a defensive stance, convinced it was an illusion. His eyelids flickered, wanting to close and finally achieve some rest, but Thorne forced them to remain open.
“Put the swords down.” Master Khal spoke plainly as he stopped a few meters from Thorne’s disheveled figure.
The swords remained up despite Thorne having barely enough strength to maintain the stance. His mouth stayed shut as he forced his eyes to focus on this imaginary Master Khal.
‘I only have enough strength for one attack.’ Thorne tensed his muscles, awaiting his opponents’ movements, ‘just one attack.’
The pretender remained still, however, and sighed slightly. Thorne didn’t notice, though; his peripheral vision was no more as his exhausted eyes tunneled and focused only on the body of the fake Master Khal.
‘Or maybe he’s real?’ Thorne pondered, praying to every god he knew that it was true. Thorne cursed his own brain, ‘No! I cannot think like that!
Attempting to expunge any of his supposed weakness, Thorne held his blades firm.
The imposter started sauntering towards Thorne, clearly unintimidated by his gesture of strength. Two meters. The imposter stopped two meters from Thorne and paused for a second.
BANG!
Thorne’s arms flew upward, and his swords left his previously iron grip. Sweat coating his hands Thorne raised them in an exhausted last-ditch defense, despite knowing it was futile.
‘If that thing can take my sword so easily, how can I beat it.’ Thorne thought furiously. His legs shook, and sweat and blood merged to create a stream of vile liquid that flowed down his crusty skin.
BAM!
Sand cascaded around Thorne as he was moved once again. This time for the kill, or so Thorne thought. A shiny grey hand grasped Thorne’s neck tightly as if it were an unyielding clamp. Thorne kicked and flailed, lashing out as hard as his body would allow. It was to no avail.
“I…am…Master…. Khal.” The being said, punctuating the words clearly right into Thorne’s exposed ear, “Stop…this…pathetic…Display.” The words were soft yet carried more authority than any shout could. Thorne did not listen despite his life hanging in the balance. His arms thrashed like a dying fish desperately clinging to life.
His hands hit the hard surface of his attacker’s skin, bruising them in the process as they continuously bashed the infinity-durable skin. As he was getting choked, his thoughts muddied, and his arms slowed.
‘I will not stop.’
‘I will not stop…’
‘I wi…’
Thorne stopped. His eyes closed, and his body drooped in Master Khal’s grip. Shaking his head, Master Khal looked at Thorne in disappointment, then at the amber and red swords he carried in his free hand. They wept; the energy they possessed screamed and fluctuated wildly, presenting a mini-light show in despair over their owner’s defeat. Master Khal sighed and closed his eyes, picturing his past of despair. He remembered the feeling of hopelessness, the feeling of being defeated, and the feeling of losing everything he had. He didn’t want Thorne to end up like him.
Slowly, Master Khal released his grip on Thorne’s neck and let him drop to the ground. Thorne gasped for air, coughing, and spluttering, as he struggled to breathe.
“Get up,” Master Khal ordered, his voice stern.
Thorne slowly pulled himself to his feet, his body still weak and trembling from the intense training and the chokehold he had just endured.
“I’m sorry, Master Khal,” Thorne said, bowing his head in shame.
“You are young,” Master Khal replied, his voice softening almost imperceptibly. “You have shown great determination and strength, but you need to learn to control it. You cannot let your emotions control you.”
Thorne nodded, understanding the lesson. He knew he needed to learn how to channel his emotions and use them to his advantage rather than allowing them to overwhelm him.
“Never lose your blades again.” Master Khal stated his soft tone was now dead. He held out the two sabers towards Thorne, “If you do, I will kill you.”
Thorne, whose hands were once gliding smoothly towards his blades stopped. He looked up at the man, the Master, whose power was beyond his comprehension. Thorne attempted to dissect a possible hidden meaning. There was none. Master Khal’s unblinking red eyes lifelessly bore into Thorne’s own only showing stoic honesty.
‘Should I take them?’ Questioned Thorne internally. How good was a weapon when it could also be the wielder’s doom? Thorne’s hands faltered and simply floated a few centimeters away from the blades, before assertively grabbing them. His energy rejoiced, the blades rejoiced, and he rejoiced.
Thorne inclined his head towards the sky, embracing the feeling.
“Good.”
Master Khal began walking away towards the exit, prompting Thorne to follow, “I will transport you to the Great Wilderness now.”
“What?” Thorne gasped, shocked by this news. In his battle haze, he had wholly forgotten his inevitable trip to the supposedly deadly Great Wilderness.
“What is the method of transportation?” Thorne asked, quickly recovering from his surprise.
“You will be driven by a hovercar.” Master Khal responded, unwilling to provide any more information.
In response, Thorne nodded solemnly. His wounds were still fresh, and despite his spell of unconsciousness, the fatigue that plagued his body remained.
The pair walked out of the heat-ridden desert and into the majesty of the Academies halls. The students walking past the two projected disgusted looks at Thorne’s ghastly visage, but they dared not gawk for long as the monstrous Master Khal glared at them.
Trudging on for what seemed like hours, through halls, stairs, even intruding on in session classrooms, the master and student eventually reached a strange platform. Thorne glanced around bewildered, they stood on the precipice of the academy, in the open air. The only thing supporting them was an unsupported horizontal platform, with an amber forcefield protecting the residents of the platform from the harsh winds and cold. Master Khal walked over to a black pole erected in the middle of the platform and pressed the button that stood on it.
WHIRRRR!
A high-pitched vibrating sound reached the two of them, and eventually a sleek silver and bronze hovercar arrived just outside the amber domes field, right on the edge of the mid-air platform. The hovercar was much like a normal car; It was similar in design to an earthling limo. Long, rectangular body with bright orange headlights. At the bottom of the vehicle, Thorne could just notice four transparent circles that seemed to be the reason the car could float.
Without prompting, Master Khal walked authoritatively into the driver’s seat and ushered the previous human driver out. He was flustered yet did not question the imperious destruction cultivator. Thorne followed his lead and quietly stepped into the shotgun seat of the car.
The interior was sleek. Grey walls with teal light lining the walls, and dimly lighting the inside of the vehicle. Next to Master Khal on the door was a series of buttons. He pressed one of them, and the hovercar began moving with complete autonomy, Master Khal seemingly doing nothing to control it.
The trip was long and silent. Up close, Thorne noticed just how menacing Master Khal was. His chaotic runes, his constant look of tyrannical calmness. Bing only a weak novice, Thorne did not question, or nag the man, despite his ever-growing list of questions.
‘What are the swords?’
‘Why are they so important?’
‘Why am I the only one going to the Great Wilderness early.’
Thorne was desperately bottling up his inquiry. A seemingly kind and outgoing soul such as Graald Thorne would be constantly pestering, but Master Khal just with his body language dissuaded that course of action.
The trip, unceasing in its duration, allowed Thorne to sightsee the magnificent Zupu world. After a while, the city, while once seemingly endless, gave way to the wilderness. Out the window, Thorne saw forests, grasslands, and swamps. Yet one feature reigned supreme. Any conception of a mountain was broken by this behemoth. It was certainly a mountain; it towered in height, piercing the clouds and continuing for who knows how long. Thorne was confused about how he couldn’t see it from the city; it was indeed that enormous. It had a broad base, Thorne estimated that the base alone stretched for miles. Crackling lightning tore through the higher portions of the mountains while walls of earth, miles high, moved like the ocean at the bottom. They rose, and they swam, colliding with anything in their path. If Thorne didn’t know better, he would have thought that someone was controlling them, but that certainly couldn’t be possible.
Eventually, Master Khal settled the hovercar and landed on the edge of a grassland, with an expansive forest just to the side of it. From Thorne’s sightseeing, he knew that they were just on the edge of the Great Wilderness, while the monstrous mountain likely lay near the center, far, far away.
Master Khal ushered Thorne out of the vehicle with a wave. Stepping out, Thorne felt a distant warm breeze brush his face, a fond memory of the beautiful nature of Earth.
WHIRRR
His reminiscent moment was soon interrupted, as Thorne stared dumbfounded at the fleeing hover car as it sped away from the lonesome figure of Thorne.
Thorne’s mouth lay agape.
“That son of a bitch.” Muttered Thorne while shaking his head.
No food, no water, no knowledge, he had nothing.
“Nothing except me and myself.” Thorne smiled wistfully, the setting sun illuminating his tired eyes.
“Time to get to work.”
Master Khal was annoyed. He went so far as to personally build multi-spectrum destructor blades, the first of their kind, and then help the student by accelerating his training schedule, only to be yelled at by the headmaster and his dog.
As soon as Khal stole ‘borrowed’ a random hovercar, this meeting would happen.
“You cannot just take a new student into the Great Wilds after only three days of training!” The diminutive, wrinkly headmaster Ahron almost screamed at the stoic Khal, “Especially a one-hundred dual spectrum talent!” The headmaster growled, almost spitting in anger, betraying the warm grandfatherly veneer he had displayed at the inauguration.
Master Graald stood respectfully behind the tiny headmaster, glaring at Khal. For his part, Master Khal did not falter and simply stood there enduring the abuse.
“You cannot coddle talented students.” Master Khal stated firmly, an edge to his words.
“You did not receive permission!” Headmaster Ahron shouted, “I should punish you heavily for this act.”
Master Khal crossed his heavy metallic arms and looked down at the headmaster, “Then do so.”
Graald snarled, fed up with Khal’s constant noncompliance, and nearly stepped forward in anger, ready to confront this red-spectrum fiend who had continually disrespected his master.
Headmaster Ahron noticed and held his elderly hand up, stopping Graald. “You will be revoked payment for a month and will be required to teach two additional classes for the rest of the semester.” He stated, gritting his teeth, attempting to restrain his fury, “You will also retrieve that dual spectrum student immediately.”
“No.” The word permeated the air as Master Khal received looks full of turbulent rage from the pair.
“What do you mean, no?” Ahron seethed, enunciating the words slowly and firmly.
“I will not retrieve the student.” Master Khal’s deadpan look remained as he looked down on the headmaster, whose red face and twitching legs made it seem that he was about to explode.
He remained calm and, knowing Master Khal’s unwavering disposition, did not question more.
“Payment will be revoked until the student returns to the academy.” Headmaster Ahron snarled as he turned away, walking back to the academy.
Graald glared at Khal and gave him one last nasty look before obediently following Headmaster Ahron.
Master Khal remained standing, still stoic in expression and demeanor. He took out a round purple fruit from his spatial storage. He took a hearty bite out of it, his red dagger-like teeth easily piercing the soft exterior of the food.
“Delicious.” He said to himself, his voice and face expressionless.
