The next day.
For the first time ever, I was somewhat excited to train.
While everyone else appeared on the verge of death... I felt as though I could see clearly.
Despite that, flickers of doubt still remained.
The last thing I wanted was to prove Pandora wrong.
But then I remembered.
As she had said, if I wanted to be strong, I needed to believe that I could be.
I was ready for Hengeist this time.
Most of our training was for hand-to-hand combat. Only the highest ranking martial artists were allowed to advance to weaponry.
And as it stood, I was one of the lowest in the camp.
Not so low as to be recognised.
But to fade into the background, with only the occasional disgruntled glare in my direction as acknowledgement.
I preferred it that way.
I walked up to the wooden pillar.
Designed to practice power, speed, and technique when it came to striking.
The goal of the exercise? Break it. As though it were a human.
But until that day, I had not managed to deal any significant damage to it.
After all, it was thick, heavy and tough, designed to be as difficult as possible to shatter.
But today was different.
For once I was not thinking of my losses. My weaknesses. My enemies. My doubts. My fears.
I was not thinking about every time I had ever failed.
I was not thinking about how I could get stronger.
I was thinking of how I could prove to myself that I already was.
I remembered Pandora's words.
*'You are the strongest to ever set foot in that city...*'
...
*I will be.*
THWACK. My fist tore a hole through the surface of the wood. More power than I had ever released before.
I marvelled at the sight. But only for a moment.
*A strong person wouldn't get so excited at being strong, right?*
I calmed down. Steeling myself. And struck again.
THWACK! I was digging a tunnel through the wood now.
The vibration of my punches echoed a short radius around me. I hoped no one took notice.
I just wanted to fight alone.
THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!
I got more loose. Practicing combos. Throwing in kicks, elbows, knees. I felt faster, stronger. More focused. My mind more agile, my body more adapted.
It was not as if I was now a master, far from it.
But by the time we were finished at the pillars. Mine looked as if a shark had gnawed it and spit it out.
I still refused to celebrate.
To a strong person, this would be an average Tuesday.
They would only focus on how they can get stronger, without turning back to look at the past.
And yet, that was all Hengeist had instructed me to do.
To stay fixated on the past. To live in it. To die for it. To name myself after it.
To relive it again and again and again.
I refused to live in the past anymore.
Next, it was time to spar.
The part I used to despise.
Before now, I would lose over half my fights.
Most of the fights I'd manage to win would be against smaller or newer fighters.
But I was determined to change that today.
To prove myself wrong.
Not for Hengeist. Not for the instructors.
But for myself.
My opponent was someone who had once narrowly beat me before.
Slightly taller, slightly longer reach.
But just as devastated and terrified as I was before.
Only now, his gaze had not changed, while mine had.
I could see everything.
The match began.
We circled around each other. I tested the waters with my jab-- measuring distance.
He held his hands up high, not throwing anything.
I kicked his oblique. The sound slapping his skin, echoing.
He still did not attack, only avoiding me.
The image of fear plastered onto his face.
Not of me.
Of whatever past he was looking at.
As though he were looking through me, into his worst nightmares.
I kept mixing up my attack. Staying fluid and agile.
Dancing as he lay dormant.
The instructors had enough.
"KILL HIM! KILL THE HUMAN! REMEMBER WHAT HE DID TO YOU!"
He wasn't even looking at my opponent. He was just throwing words at both of us. Hoping we would internalise it for ourselves.
Flashes of the raid came back, and I swallowed them back down.
*I don't need that anymore.*
But my opponent took a different approach.
Upon hearing the instructor, he began to charge in violently.
Hands down, swinging wildly, lunging at me. Crying out.
"FIX YOUR FORM! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?"
I kept my hands up, somehow dodging and darting from every strike.
Like we were moving in slow motion.
*Clarity.*
Part of me felt badly for him. I didn't want to fight back at such a dark moment.
But it was either him or me.
No time to second guess.
And so I started to retaliate.
Connecting when he would drop his hands.
Sinking shots into his ribs, his jaw.
It was as though every actual technique the instructors had taught me was buried somewhere under all their other garbage.
And now it was returning to the surface.
He swung, right overhand, I saw it coming from a mile away.
Weaving his punch, I countered with my left.
Crunching straight into his chin.
And before I knew it, he was out.
And I had won.
The instructors simply scoffed and stared down at his limp body.
Of course, they did not care that I had won. Only that he had lost.
As if he had wasted their time.
I stood over him.
Not triumphant. Just awake.
I knew, now.
Everything they had ever taught me was a lie.
All except the technique itself.
*From now on, I'll filter through all the deceit...*
*And see how strong I can become.*