Walking around Soul Peak, where all the Soul Craftsmen who taught at the Academy live and teach their disciples, Garth came to an old, tattered sign that read “Sejus” in letters just barely discernable.  Turning right at the sign, Garth left the road and headed into the heavy trees.  Other Soul Craftsmen would have a road leading to their mansion, but Sejus only had a sign, because there weren’t enough people walking the road to his dwelling to form a path.

                After a few minutes, Garth found himself at the mouth of a suspicious cave.  Undaunted, Garth marched through, soon coming to a domed room.  In the middle of the room was a lake, made from the flow of an underwater spring, and emptying further into the cave.  In the middle of the cave, was a small platform of rock that barely seated the robust old man that meditated on it.

                Master Sejus couldn’t even be bothered to open his eyes as he ordered, “Sit down.”

                Suddenly, another stone platform rose from the lake directly in front of him.  Garth poured a little Qi into his feet, and leapt the twenty feet.  After he safely landed on the platform, he faced his master and sat down.

                “Explain to me what a Soul Craftsman is,” Master Sejus demanded.

                “When at the embryo stage, a cultivator must open his acupoints, dantian, and meridians.  World Qi is brought in by acupoints, refined in the dantian, and controlled using the meridians.  Soul force is used to refine Qi in the dantian, and how much soul force a cultivator has depends on the cultivator.  Those who have an excess of soul force not only have incredibly pure Qi, but also have enough excess to use for their own uses.  These uses are the Soul Crafts, and those who practice Soul Crafts are Soul Craftsmen.”

                “And how does one cultivate soul force?” Master Sejus asked.

                “Soul force is cultivated using the heart!  One’s life and death experiences, as well as their goals, dreams, memories and responsibilities are all used to cultivate soul force!” Garth answered.

                Master Sejus opened his eyes and said, “Good.  Over this past school year, I have taught you all the basics needed for any of the Soul Crafts.  Now, it is time to choose which one you want to pursue.”

                Garth responded without hesitation, as he had already decided the night before, “I want to be a Soul Martialist.”

                Soul Martialists were Soul Craftsmen who used their soul force like Qi.  The difference is that soul force is more tangible, able to directly move and create things with much less effort.  It also has the unique ability of attacking the mind, and damaging the soul force of others, which is deadly to a cultivator.

                Master Sejus nodded, “Very well.  This path suits my teachings because I too am a Soul Martialist.”

                “I await your instruction, Master!” Garth said earnestly.

                Master Sejus disappeared from his platform, and Garth soon heard footsteps from the cave tunnel behind him.  Garth followed, but by the time he had reached the entrance, Master Sejus had already had time prepared a fire and a boulder.

                “All things can be divided into hot and cold, even the heart.  When fighting with soul force, it takes too long to prepare attacks of great effect.  So, we fight using soul force in each small attack.  Every punch, kick, or chop contains soul force that will ravage the opponent’s body slowly, until he is unable to fight.  Thus, Soul Martialism is not about creating or using techniques, but how you fight altogether.  Soul force is not what you fight with, but how you fight.”

                Garth nodded as he engraved these words into his heart.

                “There are two ways to fight, the first is to control everything, like a rock.  Rocks can never be broken, only made smaller.  There is an absoluteness in their very being.  When a rock such as this is thrown into a river, it does not move.  Instead, it forces the water to move around it,” Sejus continued as he placed a hand on the boulder beside him.

                Then, he gestured to the fire, “The next is to be uncontrollable.  A fire does everything it can to survive.  This primal instinct has jumped rivers, devastated mountains, and destroyed cities.  Even after being put out, a fire might spring up again from a single hot coal.

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                One is of logic, the other is of instinct.  In the end, every cultivator must make this choice, but yours came early because you are a Soul Martialist, and everyone has a certain affinity with one or the other.  Now, it is time for you to choose.”

                Garth thought for a while, before he asked, “Master, how does someone find his affinity?”

                “Simple,” the old man said, then walked up to his disciple and put a finger on his forehead, “By being pushed to the edge.”

                Suddenly, a flash of light emanated from Sejus’ finger and entered Garth’s forehead.  Afterwards, Garth’s gaze became dull, and he continued to stand there, even after Sejus had walked away.

                Garth awoke to a multitude of groans and wails.

                “Wha… What’s happening?” he asked as he looked around.

                Garth was sitting up against a cold, stank wall, in what looked to be a dungeon.  Before him, was a pile of corpses stacked into a small mountain, and on top sat a burly, muscular man, with his wide back facing Garth.

                “I’m glad you finally woke up.  I really wanted you to see this,” the man said in a deep, guttural voice filled with murderous intent.  “I was so close to just killing you while you slept.  You know how tiring it was, waiting?”

                “What did you want to show me?” Garth said as a deep chill made its home in the pit of Garth’s stomach.

                “Hahaha!  These!”

                The man swung a knapsack closed with a coarse twine over his head.  It arced high in the air, slowly making its descent, and landed with a hideous plop.  The twine snapped under the impact, and several heads rolled out.  Each one made Garth’s eyes widen in horror, because these were the heads of his friends and family:  Katrina, the first sibling he had ever had, Mo Franklin, the old man who had adopted Garth, and even Adeline, Peter, and Erin.  More rolled out, but Garth didn’t see them, for his eyes had gone blurry.  He stared at the figure on top of the mountain of corpses, with only a single word running through his head:

                Kill, kill, kill, kill, I’ll kill you, I’LL KILL YOU!  He screamed in his head, so loud that he almost thought he was actually saying it.  But as words tried to come out of his mouth, they got stuck in his throat, only leaving a series of guttural growls.

                Garth leapt from the wall he sat on, straining against his chains.  His eyes had gone dark red from bloodlust, and he had lost all sense of reason.  The chains groaned as they strained against the tension, before they finally freed themselves from the wall.

                Master Sejus opened his eyes after a large explosion resounded in the area surrounding the trees.  He eyed the crater in front of him, and the boy who was kneeling inside it.

                “So you’re a Berserker,” he said.

                Garth stared at him, confused.

                “That was an illusion, Garth.  One which you would react to in one of two ways: completely lost in rage, like you were, or calmly, coldly, like an arctic hell, waiting and calculating for your chance at revenge.  These define the two types of fighters: The Berserk type, and the Control type.  You, are a berserk type fighter,” Sejus explained, before he adopted an evil smile.  “Now, let’s start training.”

                 A chill ran down Garth’s spine as he knew that the demonic training was about to begin.