What followed were several moments of deep breathing and patting themselves to make sure they still had all of their limbs in place.

Eventually, Josh raised his brows. ~I’m ok. You?~

Examining the Titan shorts word, Sen closed his eyes and nodded silently once. ~I am, brother.~

Josh exhaled with puffed cheeks and also turned his attention to what they had just risked getting turned into jelly by an irate mythical sea best for. And he had to say… it had been worth it.

Josh ham-fisted the pommel of the short sword and held it up to his eyes.

“Not bad at all!” Josh half shouted as brandished the sword with increasing exuberance. He even began to take some practice swings with the weapon. Sen backed out of his way to avoid having his limbs severed by the apparent ineptitude. Then, screwing his courage to the sticking point, the short monk stepped forward and bowed as he waved with both hands for Josh to stop.

He spoke words that had less in common with any concept of ‘encouraging’ and much more in common with bitter-to-swallow-pills. “Brother, we are in a rush now, and there is no time. But as soon as we get out of here, I will teach you the basics. Just promise me you will never swing a sword in front of anyone but me until I do. I would spare you that shame.”

Josh cast a sullen glare at Sen, his pride stinging more than his recent third-degree burn.

“Shame?!?” The single word communicated his shock, wounded sense of self-worth, and Sen’s apparent betrayal.

Then, like a thirteen-year-old at a skate park needing redemption after failing a drop, Josh insisted that Sen show him “The basics any child would learn. Right here and now!”

As faulted as his emotional response to Sen’s chastisement was, there was a very good reason for an impromptu sword lesson: They were likely to face a chimera as soon as they opened the barred door into the next room. Any knowledge Sen could impart to him would be better than Josh fighting like a seizing epileptic holding a lightsaber during a fit.

Sen had agreed to the demand.

When they stepped out through the door, the foyer was the same as when they had left, save the fallen draugr archers were now gone. It was possible that the bodies had faded as a property of undeath, or Gaia’s basement had some supernatural cleaning function... or, perhaps, they had gotten up and walked away. After all, they’d done it at least once before. Regardless, Josh had no clue. Sen showed no concern, so Josh didn’t worry about it.

The Tartarus door no longer clacked and banged, but there was still a low-level calling, which Josh seemed to then Sen. But given his his newfound need to end his sword-shaming, Josh managed to tune it out.

He turned to Sen and started their lesson with narrowed eyes and a sullen expression. He stood with his feet apart, white-knuckling his sword in a closed fist. “Okay, Zatoichi... start teaching!”

Sen looked confused for a second at Josh’s words. “How do you know of Zatoichi, the Blind Swordsman? The multiversal weapons master of all arms, renown even in Immortal circles...”

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Shaking his head and refocusing, Sen saved any further questions regarding that particular quandary for later and stepped into the role of a teacher. Josh remained silent and stared intensely at him.

Sen kneeled, opening his hands in a welcoming gesture, and said, “Put your sword down and kneel with me.”

Josh hesitated, waving the sword trapped in his death grip back and forth as he shuffled to a place in front of Sen.

Sen raised his eyes to pierce Josh’s without moving his head and spoke clearly and loudly again. “Kneel... Using a sword is a sacred art! Not one taken lightly! If you insist on being my student, you will show me the respect I’ve shown my Immortal instructors for millions of years.”

It was Josh’s turn to feel Sen’s intensity through their Karmic Bond. The sanctity of combat training was something Sen believed in, to his core. Josh would, of course, respect that. Setting the sword down, he kneeled in front of Sen. His head and eyes were downcast out of respect, and he was a bit ashamed of having driven Sen to raise his voice to get the respect he deserved.

“... Understand. I have approximately ten years of study with the weapon you call the sword. I have also trained the same amount of time in most of your hand-to-hand martial styles, small blades, polearms, firearms, energy weapons, and neural infusers. Some of these are after your time in the local cuboidal’s time stream... But I can teach you the basics.”

Josh silently nodded in appreciation.

Sen opened his hands and smiled good-naturedly to Josh, “... To master the sword, you must master yourself. The sword is an extension of your body. Just as you would your arms, legs, hands, or other parts. I have seen you use your fists, swing your club, and even use your... case of briefs well when it counted.” He looked Josh straight in his eyes and cocked his head to make his point. “Would you wave your arm, leg, or case of briefs as you have that sword?”

“No, I wouldn’t...” Josh said, feeling more embarrassed than he had expected.

“Good! This is the right way to start!”

Over the next hour, Sen instructed Josh to hold his sword as an extension of his body. To keep his sword in a rigid line from his hand to its tip. He said that ‘wrist work’ was an advanced technique that took mortal lifetimes to master and instead had him focus on smooth, sweeping blows that used his body’s leverage and economy of movement. Josh learned what the basic stances were and how to use them. Plow. The middle stance for a general approach to all fights. The Ox. Outside high horizontal pointing for shorter targets. Fool. Low stance for taller targets and low blocking from compact targets. Roof. High stance for blocking high attacks from all opponents and those who simply preferred holding their sword high. Josh also learned how to position his feet during each of these stances. Until they had more time, Josh was to keep his feet shoulder-width apart and swing his sword in mid-range or with an upswing to handle all targets as tall or taller than him.

After their session, sweat had soaked through Josh’s linens to collect in small puddles under him on the marble floor, despite occasionally filtering some Essence through his body periodically throughout the training session. But now, instead of shame when he looked at his sword, he felt a growing sense of challenge to master it. That, and gratitude towards his Karmic brother for turning his proverbial sword onto Josh’s own arrogance and wounded pride. He bowed deeply from his kneeling position at the end of the lesson.

Bowing his head in return, Sen replied, “Well done, Paddle Juan.”

“Paddle Juan?” Josh cocked his head to the side like a confused pigeon trying to make the connection.

A worried look came over Sen’s face and through the Bond. “Do I misremember the historical records I watched with Damni? If I did, I’m sorry... I still remember some of the words. They seemed holy writ, as though from some religious text: ‘It was from a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.’ It involved young students under powerful mortals learning to use plasma blades along with telekinetic and other mental powers. They dressed just like my father and grandfather... so I watched all eighty-six records from the time stream of your iteration?”

Through their Bond, Josh knew Sen had meant what he said as a term of respect for his progress in so short a time.

Josh replied with a crooked smile. “No, Sen. You remembered it well. Though a student is called a padawan,” he chuckled. “Paddle Juan is what we called the old groundskeeper at the Catholic church back when I was a kid… The saying went that you never wanted to get caught doing something wrong by old man Paddle Juan...” Josh rose as a student and again, bowing at the waist. Once on his feet, he grasped forearms with his brother. “I am very grateful for what you have taught me... but I’ll need more. A lot more.”

“And I will teach you. You will grow in your knowledge and skill... and we will get you back to your Sophie. I know it weighs heavily on you. But we will.” Sen spoke aloud, leveling as resolute a look at Josh as he had seen on his Karmic brother’s face.

Josh’s interface pinged. Checking it revealed a happy surprise—

Weapon:

Titan Short Sword

Quality: Mundane masterwork. Increasing quality of weapon will increase damage.

Bladed Weapons Skill Level:

None → Junior Basic (2%)

Allows interface guidance for optimal usage.

Damage:

Below average

100% probability of 685% increased damage vs. hand-to-hand damage. Increasing skill level will increase damage capabilities.

The upgrade was significant. Furthermore, Josh’s life no longer held room for wounded pride—certainly not over snippy skill-level titles coming at him from out of the ether.

“I’ll take it!” he said with a full smile.

* * * * *