Chapter 3 – Hardening
(Thank you so much for the reviews I got... I have a long weekend coming up, so I'll try to write some more... I worried I'm going to get some writers block soon, so if they don't come as fast as these have been, well you know why. Thanks for the reviews. Reminder that I invite you to be harsh – in fact I would like it if you were... It only helps me improve my story... so any negative comment is fine, so long as it is in the form of criticism, and not just put down's of my Fic... that would just ruin my self-esteem... Anyways – here is chapter three, chapter 4 soon to come! Please Review!)
Liam followed the forest towards the brook. Stopping every so often to catch his breath, he sometimes caught glimpses of the older children fighting on various terrains. Eventually he made it to the brook where Cheetah was waiting.
The other boys arrived quickly after, and Cheetah requested they each find a tree. There were many trees, beside the brook, Liam wondered for a few moments, before choosing an old Maple with good hand holds, to reach to top. The other boys chose small saplings, and another chose a Birch, the paper bark pealing back to reveal salmon colored layers or bark beneath.
"I want you each to form a fist. Like this." He said, closing his fingers in and wrapping his thumb around them, then holding out his hand for the children to see. "When you hit someone, you strike with your first two knuckles. For this they need to be strong. You," he said pointing to the six year old, beside Liam come here. The blond boy sauntered up shyly, wondering what the Cheetah would want. "I want you to hit me, with a fist like I showed you, right here." He said, pointing to the center of his chest.
"I-I can't reach." Said the boy, "sir" he added quickly.
Kneeling down Cheetah impatiently said, "Try now, and do be quick, we have other things to be doing." The little boy took a moment, closing his fingers trying to imitate the fist Cheetah held out for him. Determinedly he placed his thumb over his fingers, pulled back his arm and threw it into Cheetah, using his whole body. Liam and the other boys closed their eyes, winced, or looked away, so none were able to see the actual impact, but they all heard the scream. And all opened their eyes to see the blond boy on the ground cradling his hand.
"You're hands need to be strong. You need to be strong. And if you cannot punch your opponent without falling to the ground crying in pain, then you are worthless, and will never make it as a warrior." The boys stared speechless from Cheetah to the blond boy, still crying on the ground. "Get up, Justin. Or you'll be standing in the brook for the rest of this bell." Slowly the blond boy, Justin, picked himself up and got back into line, still cradling his injured hand.
"Now, all of you turn to your trees." Each boy turned to their tree, looking at it in a whole new way, knowing reluctantly that they would not be climbing them. "Raise your left hand." Cheetah instructed. The boys all obeyed, many, Liam noted were shaking. "Close your fingers." The boys, looking around terrified, slowly closed their fingers. "Fold your thumb over." Horrified boys closed their thumbs, arms fiercely shaking now.
Cheetah walked around the group, correcting fist positions, tightening grip, moving thumbs, until all four boys fists looked just like his, only smaller. "Now, On my count I want you to strike the tree with your fist. I want you to hit the tree hard. I want your hand to go through the tree. I want you to feel the shock of the strike up your arm down your body, right to your toes. I want there to be power, if you need to say something as you strike the tree, you may do so. Say what ever you wish, but I want to see power. If I do not see enough, we can train in the brook more, and I know how much you like that." He said humor in his eyes. But the boys were too terrified to notice. "Remember on my count."
"One!" The boys struck, each one taking a step back and cradling their hands.
"Two!" Jumping forward they struck again, trying to stay on count. All hands fell, a second time, as everyone tried to massage the pain away.
"Three!" Liam's knuckles split open. Gasping he tried to wipe the blood away, but all it did was sting more.
"Four!" Wincing Liam hit the tree again. Leaving a blood stain on the bark where he landed his punch.
"Five!" The boys were falling off count now, Liam felt like his hand was going to fall off. He almost thought it would hurt less if it did.
"Six!" Liam struck again, leaving enough blood on the tree that it started to dribble down.
"Seven!" Liam struck the tree, and everything went black.
Needles seemed to be piercing his face. Liam sat up with a gasp, as Cheetah passed an empty bucket to Justin.
"You made it to seven. I hope you can do better tomorrow. We're changing drills, get up." Wincing as he used his hands to pull himself up, Liam slowly stood up.
We will do that drill every day; until we can reach 100." Looking at the boys he added "With power." The boys all looked at their hands, decorated with crusting blood. They looked into Cheetah's eyes, and saw no humor, he was serious, and the boys all knew that the Shang training was not going to be a fun game. Liam suddenly had the strongest longing for his parents. His first day and he was already homesick, he was extremely upset with his vulnerability.
"Now, we run. I'm sure you've done this before, from what I heard from your parents, you all liked to run around before you came. We will run the forest trail, as a group. You will build your endurance. We will increase the distance every so often, but for now we will stick with the forest trail. Are you ready?" The boys nodded in reply, "and Cheetah started to run."
The trail went through the forest. Cheetah was moving at more of a jog, but because the boys were so small that for every step that Cheetah took, they needed to take 3. At first the boys were having a great time, it was much easier than hitting trees, all they had to do was keep their feet moving, and keep up with Cheetah. But as they got deeper into the forest, the obstacles became greater. Rotting Logs scattered the trail, Cheetah jumped them easily, but the boys staggered and tripped as they struggled to keep pace. The terrain was uneven, there were potholes every few feet and every 10 or so paces a tree root would find their feet, and manage to snag them. By the end of the run the boys were exhausted. They were sweating, and winced as they used their hands to wipe away the sweat.
Back at the brook, Cheetah told the boys that they were done for the day. That they should report to the brook the next morning, that they need not bring a change of clothes, as they would not be wading in the brook, but to the children's dismay they were to bring a bandages, as tomorrow they would be working with both their hands and their feet, and that he did not have time to carry them back to their rooms, that instead he would teach them how to dress their wounds, so they could return to their rooms without guidance.
Liam walked slowly up to his room. Tired from his run, and not wanting to move his hands too quickly. He walked up the stairway, entered his room, and for the third time that day, walked right into the wooden pole in his room. Glaring at the pole he hit it – hard, with his hand and let out a yelp, as he started hopping around the room, trying to stop the searing pain that blinded his vision.
Dressing, for dinner he refused to take his eyes off the wooden beam. There was a red stain in the center of it, a reminder of his stupidity. Slipping on his shoes, he determinedly walked around the beam, and taking his eyes off it only when he reached his door, he sprinted for dinner.
The Shang Masters sat at the front, and Liam collected his meal in silence, and carried his tray (while wincing under its weight on his raw hands) he took a seat silently beside the other new trainees.
"Would the new boys please remain behind after the meal? I wish to speak with them." A voice from one of the Masters at the table in front, uttered firmly. When they spoke, they seemed to talk as one, Liam never knew who said something, it was as if it was a thought just projected, and that not one Shang chose to make the statement.
After dinner the older boys left, along with the other Shang Masters, all that is except the Shang Cheetah.
"After the evening meal, the older boys have lessons, in Mathematics, Tactics, Etiquette, Language, and History. As new recruits, you are not required to attend these classes. Instead you will have the evenings to yourself. You must be in your rooms, however by the 9th bell. Should there be any troubles, I will have no difficulty, either finding work for you to complete, or additional training, am I clear?" The boys all nodded their heads. "I will see you after the morning bell." And with that, Cheetah walked off to his class.
The boys looked from one to another, and silently returned to their rooms. Liam attempted to bandage his hands, and forced himself into his night clothes, crawled into bed, and after some difficulty getting comfortable, and placing no weight on his hands, he managed to fall asleep. Only however to wake up, seconds later, as it seemed – to the morning bell.