The forest had stopped whispering.
Days had passed since Sir 8 agreed to show Kai the path to Ki. The air felt heavier now. The trees stood like stone guardians, silent witnesses to what was unfolding between the old warrior and the hard-headed boy.
Sir 8 stood barefoot in the clearing, arms folded behind his back, while Kai sat cross-legged in front of him, fidgeting like a squirrel caught in rain.
"Still."
Kai shifted.
"I said still."
"I am still," Kai barked back, cracking one eye open.
Sir 8 stepped forward and, without a word, smacked the top of Kai's head with a wooden staff.
"Ow! What was that for?!"
"For lying," Sir 8 muttered. "And because you're twitching like a fish in a frying pan. Again."
Kai groaned and repositioned. His body ached, his thoughts scattered, and the sounds of birds or insects felt louder than ever. Meditation, to him, was a form of torture. Worse than push-ups. Worse than carrying logs uphill. Worse than running barefoot in thorn fields (which Sir 8 had, of course, made him do).
"How does sitting still help me get Ki anyway?" Kai finally snapped. "I should be punching something, not hugging air!"
Sir 8 sat down across from him, eyes sharp and calm.
"You want Ki. But you can't even hear your own breath. Your mind's louder than your mouth. That's saying something."
"Tch..." Kai scoffed, turning his head.
"What do you think Ki is, boy? A sword you swing? A fire you throw?"
"I don't know. Magic juice or something?"
Sir 8 nearly laughed, but only smiled.
"Ki is awareness. It's the truth beneath your skin. If your mind's a mess, your Ki will be too."
Kai didn't answer. For once.
Later That Night
Kai sat by the fire, poking it with a stick. Sir 8 sat a few feet away, scribbling again in his worn notebook. The silence was almost peaceful until Kai spoke.
"Why do you even care if I get Ki or not? You could've just told me to piss off."
Sir 8 didn't look up. "Maybe I like bad kids."
"I'm not bad."
"You got a demon's tongue, no patience, no filter, and a punch-first brain. That's a bad kid in my book."
Kai snorted. "So why help me?"
Sir 8 finally looked up. His voice dropped low.
"Because I see the fire in you. Untamed. Like mine used to be. And fire... can either warm a home or burn down the world. Depends on who teaches it manners."
The Next Day
Meditation. Again.
Kai sat cross-legged, jaw clenched.
Sir 8 paced behind him like a ghost.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Nothing."
"Liar."
"Okay, my stomach hurts, and I think a bug just crawled up my pants."
Smack.
"Ow!"
"Pain is part of it. Stop scratching, stop thinking. Just be."
"How do you 'be'?! That's not even a sentence!"
Sir 8 crouched beside him. His voice was no longer harsh, but serious.
"Close your eyes, Kai. Picture a storm. Winds, thunder, chaos. That's your mind. But in the center of every storm... is the eye. Still. Quiet. Find it."
Kai didn't believe in all this spiritual junk. But he tried. And for a flicker of a moment, he felt something.
Stillness.
It was gone in a second, chased off by a cramp in his foot and a burp from the beans they had for lunch.
"Ugh, this sucks," Kai muttered.
Sir 8 smirked. "Good. Now do it again."