Alex and Thomas were warming up prior to another sparing session with the fighter's class when Mr. Ericson came up to them.

"Mr. Walker, Mr. Silvercrest has demanded an open match against you today." The old warrior rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I don't know what he's thinking, but it is his right to challenge anyone in the class. In a limited fight, it would be relatively even, but an open match is so one sided it's almost comical. Still, the challenge has been made. Do you accept?"

"Of course." Thomas shot a glance at Alex's shaking shoulders. "Care to share the joke, Alex?"

Barely holding back laughter, Alex replied, "I think I know where this is coming from. I told you about the encounter I had the other day, with Lenard?" At Thomas' nod, Alex continued, "Well, during that incident I kind of threw the sparing results Lenard has had against us, as well as the fact that we are always holding back when we spar him, in his face. I think his arrogance has convinced him that he will easily win without a handicap."

Mr. Ericson's mouth dropped open. After a moment of impersonating a fish, he began to speak. "I knew he was arrogant. I never expected him of stupidity. He has a very hard time defeating either of you with an edge. Now he thinks..." Mr. Ericson trailed off. Then he began to grin. "I want to watch this match without distraction. Mr. Walker, you'll be the last match again. All I ask is that you don't kill Mr. Silvercrest. Maybe this will finally shake his self-arrogance enough for him to actually put some effort in."

As Mr. Ericson returned to the bench that served as his desk on the training grounds, Alex asked Thomas, "You're not going to actually kill Lenard, are you?"

Thomas chuckled, "Well, he's been a pain in the rear since I arrived. But no." A small smile crept across Thomas face, "In fact, I think a small demonstration to show how little threat he is to me would really smash his pride, don't you agree?"

"Just don't lose. Lenard's insufferable now, I don't want to think how bad he'll be if he wins."

"Don't worry, I'm not planning anything too complicated." Thomas pulled out a small figure of carved soapstone. "I'll just use this."

Recognizing the totem Thomas had chosen, Alex returned his smile.

The last match of the day was held in the largest ring of sandbags on the grounds. As Mr. Ericson was giving the usual pre-match rules, Lenard had his glaring, hate filled eyes fixed on Thomas' face. Thomas, in contrast, was calmly returning the look with one of mild amusement. Of course, this infuriated Lenard. So much so that when Mr. Ericson called for the contestants to shake hands, Lenard tried to crush Thomas' hand with all his considerable strength. Thomas took the shake without changing expression. He had seen the move coming, and had positioned his hand in such a way that it was completely ineffective. After a moment, the pair split to move to their starting positions.

As he moved to the edge of the ring, Mr. Ericson again asked Thomas not to kill Lenard. Thomas just winked. To himself he thought, "Why does every one think I will kill Lenard? Honestly, I don't care enough about him to bother."

As the match started, Lenard charged straight across the ring toward Thomas.
Thomas simply tossed the totem he had shown Alex earlier into the center of the ring. Then he patiently waited as Lenard approached. He did not move or even draw his weapons. Lenard raised the two-handed broadsword he had chosen for this match over his head, preparing to smash it straight down onto Thomas head. As the sword reached its peak, however, there was a blue-white circle of magic that leapt from the totem. While the magic did not pass beyond the ring's boundaries, Lenard took the full force. Dropping his sword as the magic arced across his armor, Lenard lost his rhythm and tumbled into Thomas' arms. With a bright smile, Thomas spun the stunned fighter around by the grip he had on Lenard's highly decorated armor. After three or four revolutions, Thomas released Lenard, adding a slight twist at the end which sent him flying out of the ring and rolling into the legs of some of his friends.

As the pile of students began to climb back to their feet, Mr. Ericson made the official announcement. "Ring out! Winner Shaman Walker!"

Over the sound of Alex's laughter, Mr. Ericson turned to the class. "Instead of asking how Thomas won, today I want to know WHY he won."

One of the lower ranked students raised his hand "Thomas won because the combatants were supposed to stay in the ring. Because he threw Lenard out, Lenard broke the rule. That's why Thomas won."

Shaking his head, Mr. Ericson answered. "That's not what I meant. Thomas had won this match before it even started."

"Because he..." stated Lenard, now that the stun spell had worn off.

Mr. Ericson cut him off. "If you say 'cheated' you'll be here refilling sandbags and polishing weapons until the sun rises. I am tired of your unfounded claims, and will no longer permit them. This was an open match. By definition, there is no way to cheat, except by outside interference. You were beaten fairly, so sit down, shut up, and try to learn why!"

Shocked at the harsh tone, Lenard quietly stood, until a harsh glare from Mr. Ericson had him meekly going to his knees, then onto his rear as the glare did not diminish.

Satisfied, Mr. Ericson continued, "As I was saying, Thomas had won the match before it even began. As the war philosopher said 'If you know yourself and your foe, victory is at hand. If you know yourself, but not your foe, every win will cost a loss. If you don't know yourself or your foe, your defeat is certain.' Mr. Silvercrest clearly fell into the last category. He has never respected Mr. Walker, not as an opponent, not as a student of this school, not even as a person. Because he did not respect his opponent, he dismissed all he could have learned from him, or about him. Had he taken the time to understand Mr. Walker, he would never have made such a foolish challenge. Anyone who has watched a match between Mr. Walker and Mr. Mason could see how much either of them have been holding back during fights in this class. The magic used by the two of them gives them a huge advantage when fighting a normal opponent. That is why we have the system we do. Lenard closed his eyes to this reality."

After pausing a moment to let that sink in, Mr. Ericson continued. "To make the situation worse, Mr. Silvercrest clearly had no realistic knowledge of the limits of his own abilities. I don't know if it was arrogance, or if he thought that having an open match would instantly unlock some skill or power that would give him victory on a silver platter, tied in a neat bow. Power like that can only be earned one way, through hard work and experience.

Finally, Mr. Silvercrest's plan of attack was so simpleminded that I, as his instructor, was embarrassed to see it. He charged so hard across the ring that, even if Mr. Walker had done nothing other than take a step to the side, his own momentum would have taken him out of the ring. The overhead blow was so clumsy, anyone could have avoided it. This entire match looked like Mr. Silvercrest had only picked up a sword for the first time today. That is what arrogance and anger gets you. They are an acid that corrodes your abilities to uselessness."

Turning to Lenard, Mr. Ericson concluded his summery. "Do you have anything to add, Mr. Silvercrest? Other than your customary accusation of cheating, I mean."

Lenard search anxiously for a face that held any glimmer of insight that could justify his actions. He knew that Mr. Ericson's assessment of his performance was completely accurate. Each word had hammered his pride and honor until they lay in pieces around him. Quietly, Lenard rose to his feet and walked out of the training grounds