1 week later, Sierra International Machinery, Las Vegas
(Part 2 of The Way of the Warrior)
(Part 2 of The Way of the Warrior)
The Grand Battler looked at the ruined landscape. Debris littered every inch of ground as far as he could see, while rusted and rotting cars, some stacked ten high, clawed toward the sky. The scattered vehicle skyscrapers created a maze inside the junkyard and Daikar wanted that privacy. For now, he was being stalked but he showed no sign of concern. He feigned being the prey and enjoyed a sense of comfort from the idea that his predator was really soon to be on the receiving end of his attack.
Metal started scraping and whining under pressure above him and he spun on his heels. The tower of wrecks slowly collapsed toward him and he was able to jump and roll away from their fall, crushing the ground where he once stood in a cacophony of twisted metal and shattered glass. Before the crash settled, and appearing with the sun behind her, was Kathryn Beringer, flying toward him feet first, in an attempt to begin the combat with her newly practiced signature move.
Surprised, the Grand Battler rolled to the side and with little room for error, but not before his arm was scratched by one of her boots. She landed heavily but stood her ground as Daikar completed his roll by standing in a combat-ready stance. She took a small step forward and Daikar raised a hand.
“I yield.”
Kathryn immediately relaxed and beamed at the surrender. “Finally!”
Daikar smiled and looked at his injury. It healed cleanly but the dip of blood was still on his skin. He wiped it with a finger and nodded with appreciation. “You used the sun to your advantage, very good thinking. But I am not sure the use of the stack would have helped you.”
Kathryn waved a hand as if to swat a fly. “That was a set-up for the attack. But I wish I was stronger to push the cars. It seemed forever to get them to move.”
Nodding, Daikar brushed the dirt from his trousers. “Let’s examine that.” He scanned their surrounding and walked up to a lone vehicle. Its red paint job was almost indistinguishable from the rust, its windows were missing, and it rested on its wheel drums. Daikar knew Kathryn followed him and stopped at a distance. He was pleased that Kathryn, even in her stubbornness, knew when a lesson was about to happen.
Daikar leaned into the car and pushed it several feet before stopping. Its wheels drug into the ground and were buried, new dents along the passenger doors where Daikars hands affected the vehicle. Without sweat or losing breath he stood and turned to Kathryn. “Your turn”.
“What?!” Her eye was wide open with jaw dropped. “You half-buried the thing. Not to mention it’s a Ford from the seventies! Those things are made like tanks and weigh just as much!”
“Too bad.”
Like a teenager who was just grounded, Kathryn huffed and stomped toward the vehicle. She stopped and smirked then walked to the opposite side, leaned forward, dug in her heels and pushed.
The car didn’t budge.
Kathryn, breathing heavily stood and said, “See? I did it.”
Rolling his eyes, “It didn’t move. Stand back.” Kathryn took several steps back as Daikar took several forward. Without his usual mantra and ceremony, Daikar walked up to the car and punched the passenger door facing him. The door collapsed from the impact and was torn from the hinges. Dust, dirt and rust puffed from every surface and created a small cloud. He took a step back and brushed the dirt from his arms. “Now it’s your turn. Do you think you can do the same?”
Kathryn looked as if she were slapped in the face. “If you can do it, I can do better!” She charged the car and punched the door with all her effort. Like Daikar’s attempt, the door was crushed and she was enveloped in a cloud of dust and rust. She pulled her hand back, wincing from the pain, but when she looked back she was surprised by what just happened.
Daikar clapped. “Now tell me, why do you think that happened? I’m stronger than you, pushing the car was proof of that. Yet you can destroy the car door like me.”
Kathryn walked around the car while keeping an eye on it. She held her wrist and flexed her fingers. “I don’t know. I’m at a loss for words.”
“It’s not too simple on the surface.” Daikar met Kathryn and looked over her wrist. Once satisfied it was not broken, he slapped it, causing Kathryn to yelp. “Punching this car was like fighting someone. The physical strength a person has means nothing without the force to back it up. You are not as strong as I, but the force you exerted was the same.”
Shaking the pain out of her hand, Kathryn looked from the car to Daikar and back. “Can you be a little more vague?”
Daikar sat lotus style. “Think of strength like a river. A river is simple flowing water. You can manipulate the course of a river; you can change the flow of the river. But put some force into the river and IT will change the environment around it. It’s the same with people.
“How do you mean?” At this point Kathryn placed her hands on her hips and rested her weight on one leg. She was skeptical of the lesson but listened nonetheless.
Daikar stood and closed his eyes, then extended an arm straight. “Imagine your soul as the source of a river. From it flows the rushing water through your arm and out your fingers. Concentrate on a wild, fast flowing rush of water, not a calm bubbling brook. Your challenge is to bend or lower my arm.”
Kathryn smirked and clapped her hands together in satisfaction. “Easy enough.” She walked up to Daikar and lightly tugged down on his wrist, but his arm did not move. Using both hands she exerted more pressure, but with the same result. She leaned into her efforts until she was hanging from his arm like a child at a jungle-gym. Standing, she decided to push rather than pull, so she jumped and sat on his arm, preparing to catch herself from falling. She was surprised to find she was sitting on Daikar outstretched arm.
She jumped off. “Ok, I’m impressed. But look at you! You’re a giant bag of muscle.”
Daikar opened his eyes, “As I suggested, strength is an illusion; force is the true power you need to use. You try it, extend your arm.”
Kathryn, less skeptical, obliged and closed her eye. Daikar whispered, “Follow the thought: the river flows from deep inside, up to your arm and down its length. Leaving your fingers and continuing on beyond you.” Inside Kathryn’s imagination, the river was everything she always thought a rushing river could be. Scenes of theNiagara River just before the plunge filled her internal vision. She could sense Daikar putting pressure on her arm to test her attempt, so she strengthened her vision to be the water flowing down a sharp angle. She wrapped the river with her arm as if the water was her muscle and bone.
She could hear Daikar say something and she cracked her eye opened. Hanging from her arm with feet off the ground, like a playing child or monkey, was The Grand Battler. Surprised by the fact she succeeded, Kathryn was brought back to reality. Her effort disappeared and Daikar landed on the ground with a grunt.
Metal started scraping and whining under pressure above him and he spun on his heels. The tower of wrecks slowly collapsed toward him and he was able to jump and roll away from their fall, crushing the ground where he once stood in a cacophony of twisted metal and shattered glass. Before the crash settled, and appearing with the sun behind her, was Kathryn Beringer, flying toward him feet first, in an attempt to begin the combat with her newly practiced signature move.
Surprised, the Grand Battler rolled to the side and with little room for error, but not before his arm was scratched by one of her boots. She landed heavily but stood her ground as Daikar completed his roll by standing in a combat-ready stance. She took a small step forward and Daikar raised a hand.
“I yield.”
Kathryn immediately relaxed and beamed at the surrender. “Finally!”
Daikar smiled and looked at his injury. It healed cleanly but the dip of blood was still on his skin. He wiped it with a finger and nodded with appreciation. “You used the sun to your advantage, very good thinking. But I am not sure the use of the stack would have helped you.”
Kathryn waved a hand as if to swat a fly. “That was a set-up for the attack. But I wish I was stronger to push the cars. It seemed forever to get them to move.”
Nodding, Daikar brushed the dirt from his trousers. “Let’s examine that.” He scanned their surrounding and walked up to a lone vehicle. Its red paint job was almost indistinguishable from the rust, its windows were missing, and it rested on its wheel drums. Daikar knew Kathryn followed him and stopped at a distance. He was pleased that Kathryn, even in her stubbornness, knew when a lesson was about to happen.
Daikar leaned into the car and pushed it several feet before stopping. Its wheels drug into the ground and were buried, new dents along the passenger doors where Daikars hands affected the vehicle. Without sweat or losing breath he stood and turned to Kathryn. “Your turn”.
“What?!” Her eye was wide open with jaw dropped. “You half-buried the thing. Not to mention it’s a Ford from the seventies! Those things are made like tanks and weigh just as much!”
“Too bad.”
Like a teenager who was just grounded, Kathryn huffed and stomped toward the vehicle. She stopped and smirked then walked to the opposite side, leaned forward, dug in her heels and pushed.
The car didn’t budge.
Kathryn, breathing heavily stood and said, “See? I did it.”
Rolling his eyes, “It didn’t move. Stand back.” Kathryn took several steps back as Daikar took several forward. Without his usual mantra and ceremony, Daikar walked up to the car and punched the passenger door facing him. The door collapsed from the impact and was torn from the hinges. Dust, dirt and rust puffed from every surface and created a small cloud. He took a step back and brushed the dirt from his arms. “Now it’s your turn. Do you think you can do the same?”
Kathryn looked as if she were slapped in the face. “If you can do it, I can do better!” She charged the car and punched the door with all her effort. Like Daikar’s attempt, the door was crushed and she was enveloped in a cloud of dust and rust. She pulled her hand back, wincing from the pain, but when she looked back she was surprised by what just happened.
Daikar clapped. “Now tell me, why do you think that happened? I’m stronger than you, pushing the car was proof of that. Yet you can destroy the car door like me.”
Kathryn walked around the car while keeping an eye on it. She held her wrist and flexed her fingers. “I don’t know. I’m at a loss for words.”
“It’s not too simple on the surface.” Daikar met Kathryn and looked over her wrist. Once satisfied it was not broken, he slapped it, causing Kathryn to yelp. “Punching this car was like fighting someone. The physical strength a person has means nothing without the force to back it up. You are not as strong as I, but the force you exerted was the same.”
Shaking the pain out of her hand, Kathryn looked from the car to Daikar and back. “Can you be a little more vague?”
Daikar sat lotus style. “Think of strength like a river. A river is simple flowing water. You can manipulate the course of a river; you can change the flow of the river. But put some force into the river and IT will change the environment around it. It’s the same with people.
“How do you mean?” At this point Kathryn placed her hands on her hips and rested her weight on one leg. She was skeptical of the lesson but listened nonetheless.
Daikar stood and closed his eyes, then extended an arm straight. “Imagine your soul as the source of a river. From it flows the rushing water through your arm and out your fingers. Concentrate on a wild, fast flowing rush of water, not a calm bubbling brook. Your challenge is to bend or lower my arm.”
Kathryn smirked and clapped her hands together in satisfaction. “Easy enough.” She walked up to Daikar and lightly tugged down on his wrist, but his arm did not move. Using both hands she exerted more pressure, but with the same result. She leaned into her efforts until she was hanging from his arm like a child at a jungle-gym. Standing, she decided to push rather than pull, so she jumped and sat on his arm, preparing to catch herself from falling. She was surprised to find she was sitting on Daikar outstretched arm.
She jumped off. “Ok, I’m impressed. But look at you! You’re a giant bag of muscle.”
Daikar opened his eyes, “As I suggested, strength is an illusion; force is the true power you need to use. You try it, extend your arm.”
Kathryn, less skeptical, obliged and closed her eye. Daikar whispered, “Follow the thought: the river flows from deep inside, up to your arm and down its length. Leaving your fingers and continuing on beyond you.” Inside Kathryn’s imagination, the river was everything she always thought a rushing river could be. Scenes of the
She could hear Daikar say something and she cracked her eye opened. Hanging from her arm with feet off the ground, like a playing child or monkey, was The Grand Battler. Surprised by the fact she succeeded, Kathryn was brought back to reality. Her effort disappeared and Daikar landed on the ground with a grunt.
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