She raged whenever she wanted to and slept only when she grew tired. Her energy quickly came back, and then she would rampage once more. For whatever reason, I was always the one who bore the brunt of it.
She had her feet planted firmly into the ground to resist, but the instructor dragged her away with superhuman strength. They moved at normal walking speed, though she left cracks in the dirt behind her.
“Just like yesterday, you will be having practice battles with the knives,” said the instructor, speaking as though nothing was amiss once he had thrust the girl in front of us.
Naturally, she was unwilling to let things proceed. Feeling ignored, she let out a roar. She had a real sense of pride, after all. A great force that had no business coming from a girl that size shook the ground, fracturing it. Her essence was pouring out from every inch of her body, even though she didn’t take part in that training. Even I could tell what it was, and I hadn’t yet managed to recognize my own. Harnessing that excess power, she used it to launch herself toward the instructor.
The instructor exhaled once. In that same beat, I saw a flash of claws and fists between them. The girl’s growl was cut short—the instructor’s elbow had hit her square in the solar plexus. She staggered back, her face twisted in agony. When she hit the wall, she vanished altogether. The instructor’s fist shot out, and her face reappeared where it landed. She choked at the impact.
“A beast that possesses nothing but raw strength is not worth fearing.”
This time, he grabbed her wrist so that she couldn’t escape him again. He struck her tiny body with a chop, his elbow, and his knee, all in a single second. She choked again. The tension drained from her limbs. She was in too much pain to maintain it.
“Tired? It’s not bedtime yet.” He sounded bored.
Her eyes flew open, and she glared at him while trying to catch her breath. Sensing danger, I quickly covered my ears. That was when she let out a mighty bellow. The kids who didn’t react as quickly fell to the ground, some bleeding from their ears. Perforated eardrums. Those who hadn’t been standing close but had more sensitive hearing, looked noticeably unwell and had to sit down.
As for the instructor, who bore the full brunt of the noise, he merely frowned slightly and clicked his tongue. A strike to the girl’s throat, and her roar was cut short. He forced her to the ground and straddled her so that she couldn’t get up again. She struggled against him, but his superior weight and technique made it futile. The instructor predicted her next move when she tried to use her powerful dragon tail to knock him away, dodging it effortlessly and retaliating by bringing his fist down on her.
Every act of resistance earned her another merciless strike that knocked the breath from her lungs. Her face was swollen and bleeding, and still, he didn’t seem to want to stop. She had passed out at this point.
“Get up.” The instructor pulled her cheeks to rouse her.
The adults had a job to do, which was to break her spirit and mold her into a tool that would do their bidding. She likely hadn’t made a peep during her time in the reflection room. Her sense of self remained indomitable, even in the face of darkness and drugs. The adults must have decided to give up on keeping her there and subdue her using a level of violence that even she wasn’t capable of.
How absurd. I laughed quietly to myself.
We were all utterly ridiculous. Me, whose spirit was inferior to that of a five-year-old girl’s. The adults, who were so desperate to dominate her. And her, whose reign of terror would no doubt be quashed by their violence. Perhaps most laughable of all was the other me, the boy within me, who seemed to believe that the girl would manage to hold out against the grown-ups. Sure, she might continue to resist today, but what about tomorrow? What about a month from now? Her rebellious streak wouldn’t last forever. It would break eventually.
It would be for the best. I needed her spirit to break. If it didn’t, then I would be the weak one.
In the end, she kept resisting within an inch of her life. She looked like a dirty, worn rag when she was finally taken away. We started our practice bouts, keeping a safe distance from the spots where her blood stained the ground. While the other children seemed frightened of the sheer violence they had witnessed from the instructor, the boy inside me was relieved that the girl’s tyranny had been punished. He must have built up quite a grudge against her.
The day’s coin of honor went to a tigerborn boy whose physique was far superior to that of anyone else in the class. I went up against him once, and he showed me that body weight made all the difference at our age. My body was growing at an average rate. Simply average. The key to turning things around could therefore be found in something nonphysical: essence.
We had long-distance training that afternoon. After dinner, my two roommates fell face-down on their beds and were out like lights. Until I’d started washing myself, I’d felt like I was about to conk out at any moment. For some reason, by the time I lay down, all the lethargy left me. As the night wore on, and with the sound of steady breathing on either side of me, I began to meditate quietly.