Light of Darkness Page 10

  My breath is taken away as I am yanked from my spot in her mind and dragged into the darkness. All that she is and all that I felt vanishes as I awake lying on the ground. The sun sits high in the sky, a little past midday, somehow no longer night. “Did you enjoy your trip?” Shadow asks, appearing over me.

  I sit up slowly, my back stiff. “What was all of that? Was I possessing my friend?”

  “You shouldn’t worry about it. All that matters is that you and your friends survived.” Shadow offers his claw to me. “Now come, it is time to start the second part of the strengthening.”

  I slap his claw away. “You know what, Shadow, Kross…whoever you are.” I roll over onto my side and struggle a bit to get to my feet, then turn to face him, looking him straight in his sapphire eyes. “I’m getting sick of you dodging questions. Why won’t you just tell me what I want to know?”

  Shadow’s eyes flare; the smoke that makes up his body swells, and he grabs me by the neck, lifting me off the ground. “Listen here, boy. It is not my place to tell you anything you ask of me.” He tosses me onto the ground. “I am here only to assure our unity. Do you understand me?”

  “Yeah, I understand,” I say, rubbing my neck.

  He offers me his claw again. “Good.”

  I take it, and he helps me up. “Well, can you at least tell me what that guy was and what he wanted with the girls?”

  Shadow crosses his arms. “I can’t. I wasn’t there; you were.”

  “You have a point.”

  He puts his claw on my shoulder. “Kyle, in continuing this, you will run into things like that boy or worse. They will aim for your life, and those of your family and friends. You don’t have to, but if called upon, are you willing and ready to take up arms against them?”

  “Of course,” I say without the slightest hesitation, even though the idea that there are other things in the world scarier than Ben has me trembling.

  Shadow stares at me for a second, his blue eyes focusing on mine. “I knew you would say that. Come, let us begin.”

  “So, what’s next?”

  He walks into a more open area, away from the petrified tree that held my mind captive. “There is only one way to strengthen a body, and that is to train it. But I’m not going to put you through a normal workout.”

  “What then?”

  “I’m going to teach you the fighting style of Kross’s ancestors.”

  “Nigi, right?”

  “Yes.” Shadow turns toward me, gets into a stance, and vanishes. I do a full turn looking for him…nothing. A shockwave of pain surges through my body. I look to Shadow as he stands in front of me, his fist deep within my stomach, and buckle over onto my knees unable, to breathe. How did he get in front of me? “You have just witnessed a more advanced technique of the Nigi style. Are you ready to learn it?”

  My body shakes uncontrollably as I’m finally able to take a breath. “No.”

  “Good, let us begin.”

  I fall onto all fours, still trying to fix my breathing and catch my breath. ”So, exactly where do we start?”

  “We start where all things start: the beginning. Tell me, Kyle, do you know anything about the martial arts?”

  “Uh, they’re for fighting and amazing in movies?”

  He sighs, rubbing his face. “I was afraid of that. Oh well, I guess I’ll have to teach you the basic form as we go. I assume you know how to do a push-up?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well, I want you to do push-ups as I talk.” I look up at him like he’s crazy. His head cocks to the side. “Did I stutter, grunt? Get up and push ‘em out!”

  I jump up and do as he says. “When can I stop?”

  “When I say you can stop, you can stop. Until then, keep pushing them out.” He says walking around me. “Okay, listen closely, for I’m only saying this once. You have the basic meaning of the martial arts; they are meant for fighting. In fact, the name comes from the name of the Roman god of war, Mars, but there is so much more behind it than just fighting.”

  I push up for the twentieth time, and my arms are already beginning to burn. “You don’t say.”

  “Oh yes. It is said that through the training of the martial arts, one learns the discipline of the mind and body, and the inner peace of the soul.”

  Thirty-four, thirty-five… “Is that true?” I ask through gritted teeth.

  “To tell you the truth, it depends on the person. Some are more willing to take in the lessons than others. What number are you on?”

  “Forty,” I grunt out as I barely push myself up. My arms shake uncontrollably. I don’t want to do anymore, so I just stay up.

  “You’re at your limit, aren’t you?”

  There is something about the way he asked that. I don’t think it’s a good idea to answer yes, so I try to keep going. “Kind of.”

  He walks to my side. Something heavy weighs down on the middle of my back. Straining my whole body, I barely stop myself from kissing the ground. I look back to see Shadow bearing down on me with his foot. “Do you want to know the type of person it takes?” he asks. I focus on keeping myself steady and off the ground. He pushes harder. “I asked you a question!”

  “Yes, I want to know!” I manage.

  “It takes someone with the gumption to keep going, no matter what is put in front of you.” He pushes down so hard that I hit the ground. “Or the weight that’s placed on your shoulders.” I push myself up through his weight and stay up. He steps off me, relieving my arms. They’re numb now, but I keep going. Shadow squats down in front of me. “Why are you still going?”

  Slowly, I lower myself and rise back up. “I don’t know, because you haven’t said I could stop.”

  He chuckles a little. “I’m happy that you can take orders, but even so, you can still stop. Why keep going?”

  “I don’t know. I feel compelled.”

  “Why?”

  Why am I still going? Because I’m afraid of him. But why do I feel compelled? I close my eyes to think over the question. I awake, running into my parents’ room. Blood is everywhere, and my parents were—

  I shake my head and push myself up. “Weak. I’ve always felt weak.”

  “Elaborate.”

  “I’ve always had this feeling of being weak. Of being unable to protect anyone, let alone myself. You asked me if I was willing and ready to fight for my friends and family no matter what the cost.” I push up a few more times. “I am willing, but I’m not at all strong enough. If doing these push-ups will make me stronger, then I won’t stop until you say so.”

  Shadow stands up straight. “Kyle, I know you very well. You are not and shall not ever be weak. Strength is not always physical. Remember that.” He’s silent for an hour or so as I force myself through I don’t know how many push-ups. At some point, I lost count along with all the feeling in my arms and chest. “You can stop, Kyle. You’re ready for the next lesson.”

  With one last push-up, I fall to the ground like a pile of goo. “I can’t feel my arms.”

  Shadow takes hold of my shoulders and flips me over onto my back. “Well, that will happen when you do two hundred push-ups within an hour.”

  “Jesus, I’ve never gone past fifty.”

  “You just did, and now it’s time to start the next part, so get up.” I don’t even want to think about using my arms, so I roll forward to my feet. “I want you to run. And to mark your running perimeter.” He snaps his fingers. Four boulders rise from out of the ground around the tree. He looks at me and I back at him. “Get going.”

  I jog with my arms dangling at my sides. The perimeter isn’t at all that big. It only takes me about a minute to go around once. “So, I guess this is the part where you tell me about Nigi.”

  “Good guess. Like the humans, sentient beings of darkness and those of light have methods of protecting themselves. It’s funny how they hold themselves so high above humans, and yet their methods are just as primal…but I digress. Nigi, or in your human tongu
e, ‘Fist of darkness’ is just one of the many ancient fighting styles of the Underworld. The thing that makes this fighting style so different from any other is that it wasn’t created from violence of any kind.”

  “A fighting style so brutal? How did that happen?”

  “Things tend to change with the times, and during the time of Nigi’s development, there was perpetual war. Originally, it was a form of meditation, such as the human art of Tai Chi. The warriors that created this form of meditation had grown weary of the constant violence and bloodshed, so they withdrew from the world and the chaos that filled it and went in search of the peace they were denied in war.”

  “Did they… find it?” I ask huffing.

  “A form of it. And to do that, they had to first break through the barrier that was the mind.”

  “What…?”

  “The mind is an amazing thing. It has the ability to comprehend almost anything, but it has its fail-safes. The warriors, monks by this time, broke past these fail-safes and brought their minds to their full potential. In blocking out the violence of their world, the truths of the universe became clear—that with no meaning now had meaning, and that without reason now had meaning. But knowledge such as this does not come without a price.”

  I nearly trip over my own feet. “What’s that?”

  He touches his chest. “The body acts like a limiter for the brain. Now, with the brain on overdrive, they could comprehend reality, but even their battle-hardened bodies could not handle the stress and began to burn out. So, to combat this, hard labor became a daily regiment in the monk’s life, whether gardening or exercise.”

  “Make the body… as strong as the… mind,” I say, still jogging.

  “Everything was perfect. Not only did they hold the knowledge of the universe, but due to the physical training, they also held the strength to topple kingdoms, even worlds. But something was missing. One day, a child appeared on the front step of their temple. It cried and cried, but no monk would answer its plea for help…save one. He was the youngest and not as battle-worn as the others. He didn’t know why he wanted to help the child, but, even though it was against the wishes of his brethren, he did so anyway. He contemplated his actions for years as he raised and taught the child. When she was older, the child found a bird and brought it home. It was exhausted, its wing broken and its body frail. The child cared for this bird, mending its wing and making sure it was strong enough to survive on its own. This dumbfounded the young monk, and he asked the child, ‘Why care for the bird? It will die soon anyway.’ In response, the child set the bird free and said, ‘My heart, my being, aches with anger and sadness. We sit here and contemplate the universe, while the world around us is in chaos. Sitting here thinking won’t fix anything, but action will. Like I’ve done with the bird, I shall use this knowledge and power to rid this world of chaos and make it new.’ Listening to the words of the child, the monk felt overwhelmed by compassion—a feeling he hadn’t felt since his days as a warrior.”

  “They lost … their feelings?” I ask, huffing.

  “They had lost their souls—lost them to the ravages of war. Reasoning became all they were and all that they wanted to be. They felt nothing. This was what the young monk realized; it that moment, he felt the same compassion as the day he saved the child and took her in.”

  “So, spiritually they lost their way? How did they fix it?”

  “The words of the child and her father sparked the long–dormant fire within the other monks. It wasn’t long before they applied their learnings and fighting expertise, and began to fight for the peace of their world. It was after the war was over that they finally achieved what they originally set out to do as both monk and warrior: they found peace, both in the world and within themselves, by balancing the three parts of a being. The question was how to maintain this peace, this unity?”

  “Well, as a warrior with an understanding of the universe…I would find peace in training…meditation… or even in battle,” I say between breaths.

  “You understand well. Fighting and training became their meditation. It was only later that the fighting style changed, becoming more brutal as more wars arose. Overall, its teachings remain the same.” He takes a deep breath. “So now that you know the dumbed-down history, do you still wish to press on?” I pick up speed, spreading the circle out myself. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he says with a stretch. “Do you have any questions?”

  “From what my mind said earlier…I thought all ‘sentient’ beings already had the unity… the monks achieved. Isn’t that why they’re sentient?”

  “Not quite. Sure, the balance is better within them, but it’s not perfect. Perfection takes work. You can stop running now.” As out of shape as I am, it’s surprising how steady my breathing is. Shadow looks at me. “Your body has taken to the workout. Now we can move on to the real stuff. First, you need to know something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The things that I’m about to show you, you will learn and not learn, you will remember and not remember.” I know the look on my face is one of utter confusion, because that made no sense. “You’ll see. Now watch closely.” He spreads his legs until his feet are shoulder-width apart. He balls his fists and brings them in tight to his sides, his elbows pointed back. “This is the first stance of the original Nigi style. It is called Toralu, which loosely translates to ‘fortress.’” He takes a deep breath. On the exhale, he steps forward, opens his hands, and thrusts them out, one at chest level, the other at the groin. The force from both his movement and the yell following it sends chills up my spine. It’s like what I would imagine the wind coming off a mountain would feel like.

  Shadow continues to move, shifting his guard to the front, to the left, to the right, and then behind him. His arms, strong but fluid, move in circular motions, always coming back to protect his center. All the while, his legs and body are solid and rooted once they make a move. Amazing. If he were fighting an enemy, I don’t think they could touch him.

  With every movement, it looks like he’s growing stronger, more fortified, and embodying both the name and spirit of the stance—becoming a fortress.

  He comes to a stop right where he started. His fists back to his sides. “That was over two hundred motions. Now repeat them.”

  “What!? After only seeing them once? How am I supposed to do that?”

  “Once is all you should need. Now come.” I walk next to him and get into the stance. He pushes me until I’m an arm’s length away, then gets back into the stance. “I’ll start with you.”

  He demonstrates the initial step and thrust of his claws. The same amount of force as before radiates off him as he yells. He looks back over his shoulder at me. I follow his lead and yell as I step forward and thrust my hands out. The hairs on my arms stand straight up, and a feeling of déjà vu overwhelms me. He faces forward and continues. As I follow him, my body starts moving on its own, mirroring his every movement; it’s like I have already committed these movements to memory. With one final turn, we return to the starting stance. The feeling of déjà vu dulls, and only then do I feel how out of breath and drenched in sweat I am.

  “Wow.”

  “You have just successfully and perfectly executed Toralu.” I look at my hands. How did I know what to do? “Now, for the offensive stance.” He stands in Toralu. He brings his hands up to his face, steps his right foot back, and turns his body slightly. It’s the same as a boxer’s stance. “Watch closely. This stance is called Lokar. It means ‘blooded.’”

  He takes a deep breath, and the air becomes thick, saturated with tension. I can’t help but tremble as a panicky feeling creeps into my stomach. He throws a couple of fast jabs into the open air, followed by a right cross. Using the momentum from the cross, he swings his right leg around. A burst of wind explodes from him, hitting me in the face and taking my breath away. I step back as he continues.

  Shadow’s punches and kicks grow fiercer with every strike, a full to
rrent of wind now coming from him as he moves. I back up again, just to be safe. How can anything survive attacks like that? A spinning roundhouse kick sends out a shockwave, knocking me off my feet.

  I scramble to stand back up. He’s already back in the starting position. Slowly, he unclenches his fists, lets them drop to his side, and gives a big sigh. The tension in the air breaks, and the panic I feel vanishes. Without looking, he points to me. My turn.

  He gets back into the Lokar stance, and I follow him. I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself, when I experience that déja vu again. I clench my fists and close my eyes. I think about throwing the first couple strikes: two jabs and a right cross. I open my eyes to see I’m already moving, throwing a right kick. Shadow steps out of his stance, watching me, as I alternate kicks, punches, and other strikes from high to low, all the while moving in a circle. After throwing a left hook, I follow up with a left roundhouse kick. Dust swirls up around me and then blows outward in a burst of wind.

  Shadow claps. “Perfect.” My body feels like gelatin as I relax out of Lokar. So many questions start running through my head. Shadow stands in front of me. “Kyle, pay those thoughts no mind.”

  “It’s just so shocking that I know these things.”

  “Is it? You do remember that we’ve done this before, right?”

  “That’s right… This is just a recap of what I’ve already gone through. That’s why this is so familiar.”

  “Now, let’s continue.”

  “There’s more?”

  He chuckles. “Of course. These are just the basics, and there’s one more. The third stance. This one was developed a little bit after the first war by the young monk—Kross’s great-grandfather.” Shadow gets into the Toralu stance. He brings his claws up and places them together at his chest as if praying. He takes a deep breath and exhales, slow and loud.