How fortunate for his friend that he chose to leave when he
did. When I saw him begin blogging on his palmtop, I thought he would be there
for hours. That would have been most unpleasant. For him.
Kyle’s alone, slumped against the window sleeping. He looks
so calm, so peaceful, so completely opposite of the angry, scared, and lost
young man I knew at master’s dojo. And yet I swear he hasn’t aged a day. There
is more to him than meets the eye. I never would have believed it back then. Pride
was my downfall. It was a painful lesson, but one I needed to learn.
I mentioned the incident once to a master I had been hired
to silence. He was incredibly skilled, and for a time I wasn’t sure I would
come of victor. When I finally did overpower him he made one last request of
me: he wanted to know what had forged me into such a perfect and undefeatable
weapon. He was worthy of an answer. He told me I should be grateful for the
lesson. It had corrected a serious character flaw that would have prevented me
from becoming the unrivaled master of death that I had.
I could see his point, but the humiliation of losing to …
him – he wasn’t even a top student and had lost to several lesser fighters –
haunted me in my dreams every night. It still does. It must be avenged. I must
be avenged.
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