12th of Samaya, 991
The next day Blink woke up before sunup and went on a run. He circled the village at first before heading out into the forest. He followed the trails until he reached a clearing, which looked like a great spot to do some training.
Running was a very important part of Blink's daily regimen while he was at the academy. He was a firm believer of Master Tszarek's principle of self-preservation as the primary duty of a fighter. Just like his master, Blink believed that running was still the best way to avoid getting into a senseless fight, specially one in which the fighter had little to no chance of emerging alive.
For a few years, Blink had been the academy's strongest runner over a distance of at least one kilometer. However, during the past two years, some of the other boys had begun to overtake him with their more powerful and faster strides. He tried very hard to keep up with the best of them, but it was obvious that he was straining every sinew in his arms and legs while the others were just having fun. This made Blink depressed for a while, but that was also the time when his relationship with Berge began to turn to being more than friends.
So far, Blink never found himself in a situation wherein he had to run away for his life. However, his ability to sustain a strong pace over a considerable distance became very useful during missions, which usually required dealing with local thugs or bandit gangs. Blink became notorious for running down an escaping bandit until the bandit surrendered due to extreme exhaustion.
These missions were requested by village chiefs and town mayors, and Master Tszarek considered them to be excellent training for his disciples. The headmaster would send out a pair of disciples to a village or town the day after the rahang nimgan.
A pair usually consisted of an elite disciple and a regular disciple. While Blink was the undisputed best fighter of their class, the regular disciples usually felt some reservations about getting paired up with him. Aside from his quirky habits, Blink's somewhat feminine appearance never failed to goad bandits into taking them on. The worst part of it, however, was that, with Blink, the fight never lasted more than two minutes. All his partners complained that the fight had been too brief it could barely be called a fight.
Stopping at the clearing, Blink stretched his limbs then warmed up for some intense drills.
He started with the leg drills beginning with basic low kicks then gradually raising the height to the utmost his feet could reach.
Then, he performed combination kicks, his feet like blades cutting the air. He did a few flipping, spinning and turning kicks.
While Blink practiced these fancy kicks that martial arts beginners loved to imitate, he himself never really used them in a sparring bout much less in an actual fight. He mostly favored sidekicks to the lower leg if not to the waist or a push kick to the belly button. Blink practiced these awesome-looking but hardly effective kicks because they helped improve balance and awareness. Besides that, he also recognized that these kicks could have a devastating effect when executed precisely at the right moment which, between two highly experienced combatants, hardly ever came.
After twirling and kicking around for a dizzying spell of time, Blink settled into a perfect split and practiced a breathing technique passed on to him by Master Tszarek in the previous year. Blink maintained this posture for five minutes without any discomfort.
He proceeded to practice his fist techniques and did a few rounds of fist and leg combinations.
Blink would have wanted to expand on his palm techniques, but decided to be on time for coffee with his Namgun Jogr. He still did not know how to break to his family the news that he had been kicked out of the academy and he felt that his brother-in-law could help him in this regard.
With that Blink headed back home on a hard run. He had a really good feeling about that day. After all, he did dream again of that scene at Horns' Juncture when he and Berge engraved their names on the bark of a tree.
Upon arriving at the family home courtyard, Blink did not head straight for the kitchen. Instead, he got intrigued by the sound of a fist hitting something hard. Upon investigating the source of the sound, he discovered Hubr punching his small fists against a sturdy tree. Hubr squinted at every strike but was determined to keep on.
Blink went up to the boy and touched his shoulder from behind. He then moved beside the tree facing the boy.
"Nangku, it's you," the boy said.
"What are you doing?" Blink asked.
"I'm practicing to make my hands tougher."
"And you think doing this will give you that?"
"I suppose so." The boy hung his head, unsure of himself.
Blink gave the boy a doting smile. He then followed with a deep sigh.
"Why do you want to toughen your hands?" he asked the boy.
"Because it hurts when it strikes another fist."
"So, you want to avoid that by making your hands tougher, is that it?"
The boy nodded his head.
"Unfortunately, hurting your hand like this so it won't hurt when you fight is not the right solution to the problem," Blink told his nephew gently.
The boy looked up to him in confusion.
Blink smiled.
"Give me your hands," he ordered the boy.
Blink held the hands in his and gently rubbed the boy's knuckles. "It hurts, doesn't it?" he asked.
The boy winced and nodded his head.
"Can you imagine how much worse it's going to feel when your fist bumps into your opponent's fist?"
The boy had no answer to the question. Blink felt that Hubr was still a bit shy towards him, so he didn't try to press him to answer the obvious.
"If I tell you to stop doing this, would you do as I say?"
The boy was hesitant to answer. He seemed confused about something but didn't know how to express his confusion.
"I'll tell you what. I'm going to teach you a technique to help you avoid hitting your fist onto your opponent's fist. But you have to promise to stop hitting at a tree."
The boy's eyes lit up. "Really, Nangku, you really are going to teach me your secret techniques?" the boy excitedly asked.
"Sure. But let's start with one technique first."
"Will it make me invincible?"
Blink had to laugh at the kid's notion that there could be such a technique that could make a martial artist invincible. He decided to answer honestly.
"No, but it will help you to avoid hurting your hands."
The boy had a disappointed expression. His initial exuberance had already gone. Blink shook his head and smiled. He held the boy's face so the boy was looking directly at him.
"Martial arts isn't about winning or losing. It's about improving ourselves through training and experience. Do you think that a martial artist is already no good just because he lost?"
Hubr had a thoughtful look on his face. After a few seconds he said, "But I heard that Nangku never lost once."
Blink was taken aback, but only for a moment.
"I was very lucky," he said. "But losing is not really such a bad thing as long as you learn from each loss."
The boy gave Blink a confused look that made the latter sigh in his heart.
"Alright, for as long as you pay attention and do exactly as I teach you, you will win more than you will lose. Will that be good enough for you?"
"Okay," the boy replied happily.
"Good. Now let's go to the kitchen. I want to enjoy coffee with your dammu."
The boy gladly followed Blink. Upon arriving at the kitchen, Blink sat down and slammed his hand on the table, taking Jogr by surprise.
"Stop making the boy punch on trees," Blink declared right off the bat. "It's a stupid way to train a kid unless you know how to prepare a magic elixir that will heal the injuries in a few seconds."
Before Jogr could even recover, Blink followed up with another reproach.
"And what's the deal with making the boy train at night all droopy-eyed from want of sleep?"
Jogr eyed his wife. Then he looked at the boy. Finally, he stared at Blink, his mouth still agape. He felt stung and needed to vent his emotion.
"You all are such overbearing freaks in your family tree! You haven't even asked if any of it was my doing! "