Limping his way up the ramp, Thorne was greeted by a brilliant sleek interior. Soothing blue lights illuminated the ship, and a smooth black carpet stretched throughout the opening hallway. Master Khal continued on without slowing down the carpeted hall. As Thorne followed, he noticed that there were many different rooms in the ship as a multitude of closed doors dotted the sleek metal wall.
The hall was straight and narrow, yet for some reason felt in no way cramped. Blue light bounced off the walls, and with the black carpet as well, they created a soothing, yet somewhat barren atmosphere. It felt very artificial.
Following Master Khal, the pair eventually reached what appeared to be a cockpit of some sort. There was a vast window that stretched all the way to the ceiling, making it seem like they were trapped in a glass box. At the end of the cockpit there were two comfortable-looking black chairs. They were simple in their silky luxury and gave off a feeling of wealth, and exclusivity.
In front of one of the chairs was a panel of different controls, and even a small disk that somewhat resembled a steering wheel.
Thorne's eyes glossed over his new surroundings, but the same dull expression stayed on his face. He trudged forward, looking at his shoes as he walked.
“Sit there.” Master Khal ordered, pointing to the passenger seat.
Thorne nodded and sat in the massive black chair. It was comfortable, far more luxurious than anything he had ever been in before. It let as if he could be absorbed by the chair, and float down into it; engulfed by comfort for the rest of his life. No more troubles, no more battles. Just comfort.
Thorne fought this feeling with vehemence—not allowing himself to be comfortable. Instead, he stared blankly at his bloody palm; ‘How?’ That was the only thought on his mind. ‘How did I…lose?’
The snake. His failed attack. Him being crippled and defenseless. All these events constantly ran through Thorne's mind. Over and over again all he saw was the tail of the snake smacking him. The horrifying crunch of his bones, and the eventual sinking feeling of helplessness and weakness.
Thorne’s face still clouded, and blank shifted every so subtly, ‘Will I always be weak?’ The snake had been his final foe. The climax of his journey in the forest. He had done so much, killed so many beasts, gotten so strong—and yet… ‘I will always be weak, won’t I?’
A lulling rumble cascaded throughout the cockpit as Master Khal engaged the engines of the ship. Not noticing the noise, Thorne sat there; alone with the thoughts; thought of the battle and his loss.
‘Is it possible to win?’ Thinking blankly, Thorne thought over his wilderness adventures in his mind. ‘I was weak, then strong, then weak.’ Thorne realized, ‘I was weak when I entered, and I could barely kill even the weakest beast.’ Thorne pictured his first kill, Its luminous eyes, and swift movements. Thorne had been caught off guard and injured, and only through a mixture of luck and adrenaline did he survive.
‘Then I dominated.’ Thorne continued, ‘I struggled yes, but I rarely lost, and once the students arrived, I was strong, very strong.’ Thorne's eyes furrowed, shadowing his face in morbid darkness, ‘But I was cocky, cocky, and ignorant.’
‘I thought I could kill the snake; I had a whole plan.’ He remembered his training and his seemingly grand revelation of using the simplest technique. ‘I was foolish and weak.’ His eyes—almost slit-like bore into his hands; the scars and callouses—a reminder of his journeys. ‘They don’t matter.’ Thorne looked back up, and towards Master Khal, who had killed his tormentor so easily, ‘I don’t matter; I am weak.’ Thorne looked back at his hands. His grand conclusion had come to fruition as he sat in discomfort in the plushy black chair.
“Yes, you are weak.” A deep voice resounded throughout Thorne's ears. The words did not sting. Rather, they were simply absorbed by the endless hole of Thorne’s psyche.
Slowly, Thorne bobbled his head upward and looked at Master Khal, deadpan, and wordless. The master’s deep red eyes bore into his, but Thorne did not back down; not due to confidence or grit; he did not back down because he had nothing to lose.
Master Khal sighed, his metallic chest heaving; almost human-like; “You have much to learn.”
Unreactive, Thorne simply held his gaze.
“Do you know why you lost?” Master Khal asked, staring with intensity at Thorne. Still, Thorne simply looked at the master, wordless. “Answer me.” Master Khal ordered.
For the first time, Thorne reacted. He looked back down at his hands; his scars; his mementos of battles. “Because I’m prey,” Thorne whispered, almost soundless.
“Yes and no.” Master Khal responded, his typical emotionless drone, infected by a hint of mentor-like caring. Thorne looked back up; his eyes drooped, heavy bags holding them up. Master Khal held his gaze, “You lost because you couldn’t win.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Furrowing his eyebrows slightly, Thorne's façade of detachment finally cracked due to befuddlement; “How?” he asked, almost desperate for the answer.
“In the forest, you met many challenges.” Master Khal droned, “But the common factor in all of those challenges was that they were accomplishable.” The words struck Thorne, and his eyes darted around the cockpit, “Every beast you fought was stronger than you, faster than you, better than you.” Master Khal released some energy from his hands, and a diagram formed. There was a Hook-Claw, the raptors, the bear, and the mystical blue phoenix. “All of these enemies were challenges, but they were achievable challenges.” Master Khal’s hand swiped through the diagrams of the beasts; only to be replaced by one more diagram; a far more terrifying diagram. “The final beast, the final foe, the final challenge was not accomplishable.” Master Khal stated plainly, motioning toward the newly built diagram of the massive snake.
Thorne’s breathing quickness upon seeing the diagram of his mortal enemy; his now dead enemy. Master Khal looked at his trembling figure and shook his head in disappointment, “Do you know what your greatest flaw is, Thorne.”
Thorne's eyes darted up to look at Master Khal, “No.” He exhaled, barely able to get the word out.
With piercing eyes, and a heavy tone, Master Khal delivered the climax to his speech, “Your greatest weakness is that you can't handle being weak.”
Thorne's trembling stopped. He froze in place; the world began to spin, and Thorne looked back to his past. His recent past; the adventures in the forest. Then he looked back to his younger years, his years of labor, and the abuse by the gang members.
“But how” Thorne muttered in fury, “How is it bad to not handle weakness.”
Sighing once again, Master Khal patiently looked back at Thorne, who was furiously glaring at him, “In your old life the basis on what power was established was different from now I assume. Is that right?”
Thorne nodded slowly. “Now, it is different.” Master Khal stated, a firm voice cutting through the silent cockpit, “Everyone is weak.”
Thorne looked up. Some of his anger disappeared, replaced by utter confusion. “I am only grade three, in some places in the universe grade three individuals are servants.” Master Khal stated, answering Thorne's unasked questions, “Power is limitless, and the greatest strength of any cultivator is to realize when to lower your head.”
Thorne's eyes darted back and forth, reevaluating his whole mindset.
"You may covet strength and power, but regardless of mindset or determination, a grade one cultivator will always face defeat against a grade two.” Master Khal shrugged in indifference, “Without realizing your own capabilities, and being able to handle defeat you will never become a powerful cultivator.”
Thorne flinched backward, and sweat trickled down his forehead.
“For if you don’t realize and respect your own capabilities, then you will die.” The room froze. Seconds passed in silence. The seconds morphed into minutes. Thorne breathed slowly and calmly—forcefully regulating his state of mind; “How do I achieve that?”
Master Khal looked at Thorne, a hint of inquisitiveness and amusement seeping through his mask of apathy, “There is only one way.” He stated, “You must accept your own failings, and work hard to overcome them. Always be vigilant of your opponents, never assume their strength, and always...” Master Khal added emphasis to his voice suddenly, “Always understand what you are, and what you are not capable of.”
Thorne nodded his head slowly, as he absorbed the wise words of the red spectrum Master.
“When you devoted yourself to fighting the snake, the first thing you should have done was scout it for weeks.” Master Khal continued, “You barely understood your opponent, and went to attack it with only surface-level knowledge.”
The words cut into Thorne, but he agreed with them and vowed to take them to heart.
“As soon as you saw what the snake was capable of, you should have healed yourself and ran; always employ caution and vigilance, that is the first lesson I'll teach you.” Master Khal stared at him, a hard expression coating his metallic face, “Do you understand?”
Thorne thought for a second before answering, “No.” He looked up at Master Khal, “I do not understand entirely, though I will try to."
Master Khal nodded, “That is good enough for now.” The master’s expression clouded over slightly, “Though I do hope you achieve understanding through less painful methods than your battle with the snake.”
A solemn expression struck Thorne's face as he nodded slowly gathering his thoughts, “I will try.”
Master Khal looked at Thorne, a strange expression briefly crossed over the Master's face, but soon dissipated as he began to speak, “Now that you at least have a compact understanding of your flaw, we can move on to questions that you are sure to have.”
Thorne nodded as Master Khal shot an expectant stare at him, “Yes I have quite a few.” Thorne began, “For one, why was I sent to the wilderness before the rest?” This question had been plaguing Thorne's mind. He had trained, exercised, fought beasts, and done anything to distract himself from this thought, but throughout the six months in the wilderness, it had continually resurfaced in his head.
Master Khal nodded, seemingly unphased by the question, “Because I wished for you to experience as much hardship as possible.”
“Hmm.” Thorne grunted in response as he analyzed the master’s words, ‘That makes sense I suppose, though the real question now Is why he wants me to experience that hardship.’ Thought Thorne.
“Why?” He asked.
“You are chosen to be sent on an expedition with five other students.” Master Khal answered, a blunt tang in his words, “I decided that as soon as I saw you, thus I decided to train you by sending you to the wilderness.”
Scratching his chin, Thorne looked up at the tall Master, “What is the expedition?”
“You will be told the details once we return with the other students.” He responded noncommittal.
“All right, then I have one more question.” Thorne spoke, a dangerous edge in his voice, “Why do I not have the system?”