Tutorial Day 32

  My legs were crossed under me as a man in a white dobok lit a few sage sticks on the yoga-like mat, and then joined me on the floor in a cross-legged position. It had taken him about ten minutes to get everything laid out, but that was okay. This certainly seemed like a much better learning environment than what I had done with Claude.

  It had also taken about twenty minutes to introduce myself to the man in the white dobok and fill him in on what I wanted to learn and where I was currently at in that learning. He had seemed disappointed when I hadn’t been interested in learning the sword, but assured me that access to and manipulation of Qi and Soul weren’t dependent on weapon lessons.

  Once seated, he looked me in the eyes before intoning, “Follow what I do."

  He took in a deep breath, and so did I. He then closed his eyes and exhaled. I frowned but did the same. With my hearing, I listened and timed my inhalation to follow after the instructor as soon as I heard him. I continued to follow his breathing pattern and felt my muscles relax.

  This was so much better than being paralyzed by overly heavy armor. Almost as soon as my muscles relaxed, the man instructed, “Now, you have felt your Qi before. You know where it congregates inside your body. Find that place again, now—in this calm state.”

  His instructions were somewhat reminiscent of Smegma’s first lessons in Mana. Recalling my frustration with the Imp from that time made me sad and frustrated. Sad because the Demon wasn’t here with me now, and frustrated because, while the instructions sounded good—they weren’t really meaningful.

  On my next inhalation, I brushed it off. I had indeed discovered my Qi and the organ or storage vessel that held it with Claude. So this wasn’t so much of a lesson in ‘find the Magic by feel’ but preparation to get ready for instructions.

  My awareness hovered inside my body at the same place I’d followed my retreating Qi to, and I waited, inhaling deeply. Exhaling slowly.

  “Qi is an inherent energy to you. It is because of this that meditation will help you find its source and practice will help you control it,” the Swordsman said. My eyes narrowed—I already knew how to access Qi. Sure, I was limited in its use, but his answer was meditation and practice? I could do that on my own.

  I was paying him a thousand Points an hour, and not only did his teaching method sound a lot like Smegma’s description of how to touch a Mana Pool, but he also just wanted to have me meditate and practice?

  “Okay,” I answered slowly, opening my eyes to look at him. “And why is it tied to my emotions so heavily?”

  Without opening his eyes, the white dobok man, who suspiciously never gave me his name, answered, “Emotions are the body’s domain. They can be curtailed by the brain, but they cannot be removed or shut off entirely. Qi is also of the body. It is the energy that sustains biological life. It was always inherent to life, and thus we do not have a Skill to power it.”

  His description made me nod. There was real knowledge contained in his words, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that what he said didn’t help me. Taking a deep, calming breath, I asked, “Is there a way to control Qi without emotions?”

  “Yes, with meditation and practice,” the man in the white dobok answered again. His eyes never opened and he resumed his meditation without saying more.

  “What should I be focusing on?” I asked, my voice beginning to deepen as I grew frustrated.

  The man opened his eyes and smiled. “Congratulations, you’ve touched your Qi.”

  My tongue pushed out my bottom lip as I fought to control my bubbling frustration. “I told you when I got here that I already knew how to touch my Qi. I need to learn how to use my Qi without an emotional response!”

  “All lessons come in the time they are meant to,” the infuriating man answered. I watched as his eyes flickered over my shoulder, and I turned to see who was behind me.

  There wasn’t someone behind me. There was a Sunstone, and thus a timer. My eyes widened, but I schooled my features quickly. In an overly calm voice, I asked, “What about Soul, then, esteemed expert?”

  “Soul is a very difficult power to touch. However, it is also intrinsic to living races. If Qi is the physical, then Soul would be the spiritual.”

  “Can you show me an example of your Soul?” I asked skeptically.

  “That would likely injure you," the man said, his false smile finally slipping a bit.

  “I insist. We’re in a Dojo anyway, so the Guards won’t descend,” I responded far too genially.

  “All lessons are taught when the student is ready to learn,” white dobok answered smugly as his condescending smile returned.

  “How many hours before you think I’m ready to learn to use my Qi without emotion? Or to touch my Soul?” I asked.

  White dobok smiled without responding.

  “Thank you for your time,” I responded, holding out my hand and getting to my feet. The man’s smile faltered, but he reached out and clasped my hand.

  White dobok put a bit of pressure into the handshake and hurriedly said, “I assure you that you can’t be taught faster than this. Until you know the basics, you cannot move on to the advanced lessons, Shepherd.”

  Shaking my head, I pulled my hand free. Muttering to myself, I began to walk to the door, “Why would I need to ‘relearn’ what I already know?”

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  “Because what you are doing now is not the proper way!” white dobok shouted, even as I pulled the door open toward me and walked out of his ‘classroom.’

  I was currently in the Martial Academy, where each classroom was a Martial Pavillion run by ‘experts.’ White dobok was in a smaller room for private lessons, labelled ‘Intermediate Lessons.’ The building was nearly identical to the Alchemy Academy—and so I knew that there would be a great deal of other classrooms on this floor.

  Licking my teeth, I considered my next step. I could go from classroom to classroom, but by the actions of the Swordsman I’d just visited—I probably wasn’t going to get much.

  Then again, I shouldn’t let a single bad apple ruin my trust.

  Moving from door to door, I saw a sign that said, ‘Group Lessons—Beginner to Intermediate. 200 Tp an hour.’

  Taking a deep breath to regain my earlier excitement, I moved to the door.

  * * *

  It was past mid-afternoon and I was staring at the site of my previous ‘torture’ at the hands of Claude. Despite my misgivings, I had to admit that the man had taught me far faster and more efficiently than the idiots in that Martial Academy had.

  Of course, not all of the lessons had been ‘worthless’ but none of them had been better than Claude’s. None of them had me touching Qi and learning to fight.

  None of them trapped and tortured me, either…

  Thus, I was staring at Claude’s building. Could I figure out a way to leave when I wanted to? Or would entering trap me inside until my Tutorial Points ran out? Sure, I needed to learn to tap into my Qi more efficiently—to touch my Soul, and to learn a weapon—and I needed to do it all quickly so I could get back to Earth and my family.

  But was a week here with the idiots at the Martial Academy truly a problem? Everyone else went there and learned the ‘proper’ way. Thinking of London, Sarah, Gavin and Jacky, made me not want to do anything the ‘normal’ way.

  Sure, they weren’t at risk of dying in the Zones around Town, but neither were they able to explore the deeper Zones of the Tutorial—and some of them had been here five years already. If I waited that long to start searching for a way out—I’d be letting myself, and far more importantly, my family and friends down.

  The very fact that I was currently soloing Borkers—that took the entire team of four of them to defeat—told me that there were definitely better and faster ways. Perhaps they had never truly learned to control their Qi and Soul, but simply learned lessons that allowed them to touch and activate it in small ways. Thinking of the group that tried to kill me made me want to punch something, so I shook myself to get rid of the feeling.

  Tentatively, I reached out a hand to push open the door and heard the familiar sound of glass bottles dinging off of each other. Once I managed to get the door wide, I found Claude, leaning on his Spear in the center of the room with a half-full bottle in hand.

  He swayed as he turned to look at his door. “Oh, welcome back,” he slurred. “I’ve got a new task for you. Put on the Armor—” He hiccuped. “And clean this place up.”

  Goosebumps rose on my skin, and I shivered at the reminder of ‘the Armor.’ Shaking myself and my head, I answered, “Actually, this time I’m here to learn how to touch my Soul. Can you teach me?”

  “Of course, but first you must clean this place up and fetch water from the well.”

  “I’m not putting on the husking Armor, Claude,” I growled from the doorway.

  “Ahh, you misunderstand. Soul is not physical, and thus we do not need to burden you with weight. Come inside and I’ll show you.”

  “No!” I answered.

  Claude blinked and then smiled broadly. “There is nothing I can do for you while you’re in my doorway. Begone, and let me return to my drink!”

  “No!” I answered again.

  “So, you plan to stand there and watch?” Claude asked and then used his bottle to scratch his head.

  “Come here and let me Cleanse and Heal you,” I stated. “Then, I might be willing to enter.”

  Claude continued to scratch his greasy-looking hair with the bottle—then looked down at himself. “I’m not drunk,” he slurred. “I’m just tipsy.”

  “Then you can probably get back to that state quickly,” I countered. “Let me remove the alcohol so we can have an unimpeded conversation.”

  “Fine,” Claude said before stumbling his way out of his own doorway. Tripping multiple times due to lack of places to put his feet.

  Glancing around to make sure no one was nearby, I used Cleanse and Heal on Claude. Once again I began gagging as the alcohol was secreted from his body through his pores. It might have been my imagination, but I thought it was more this time.

  To my surprise, I was only left with five Mana when I was done using Heal and two applications of Cleanse. Had he really needed twenty-five points of Healing? Was he trying to drink himself to death or something?

  Surely NPCs wouldn’t do that…

  “Okay, you’ve ruined my buzz—now, would you like me to train you in Soul or not?” Claude asked, sounding irritated.

  “I would, but only if you promise not to physically trap me inside the Dojo!” I answered and motioned at the bottle-strewn floor.

  “Oh, no problem,” Claude said before snapping his fingers and triggering the cleaning spell. The bottles turned to sand, which was quickly brushed through gaps in the floorboards or out the door. The smell of urine and skunked beer that had been wafting out the door also vanished.

  “Come on in,” Claude growled and preceded me into the Dojo.

  “Let me hear you say it!” I interjected before he got too far.

  “I won’t physically trap you inside the Dojo,” Claude answered.

  Even with the NPC’s assurance, I was hesitant to step forward. Still, it was him or the long, plodding road of the Martial Academy—and the possible crap results of London et al. Claude was almost back to the center of the room when I took my first step over the threshold.

  To my relief, he didn’t spin around and charge me. That emboldened me and I took a second, then third step into the Dojo.

  Claude spun, and using his Spear, lowered himself into a cross-legged pose at the center of the room. Then, with the head of the same Spear, he tapped a space on the floor in front of him. As the metal bounced off the wood, he ordered, “Sit here.”

  The fact that he was sitting in a ‘meditative’ pose made me want to growl, but I settled for clenching my hands and doing as instructed. Surely, Claude wouldn’t pander the same horseshit that the Martial Academy did.

  “Good,” Claude said once I was sitting. “Now, try to keep your Soul inside your body.”

  “Isn’t that reserved for when you di—” I tried to respond but never managed to finish.

  Claude had leaned forward and moved faster than my eyes could follow. Something struck me in the chest and head simultaneously, even as my eyes registered his Spear bouncing off the floorboards. Suddenly, my eyes caught up to the events, and I discovered Claude leaning forward with two extended arms in open-palmed strikes. One on my forehead and the other on my sternum.

  They were strong enough blows that I felt my body being flung backward. I lost sight of the blows even as Claude turned his back on me. I hadn’t even seen him move. I continued to fly away from his exposed back, trying to digest what he had said, along with why he’d attacked me.

  I realized I wasn’t falling back to the floor only a few heartbeats into my forced retreat. Instead I actually rose, even as I slowed.

  My eyes widened when I discovered Claude’s eyes meeting mine as he retracted his dual-palm strikes from a body in front of him. The same body I’d mistaken for his back. A body wearing black lycra and Pumah Check-less Leather clothing.

  My body.

  “What the husk?” I exclaimed.