Knowledge is power. Power is knowledge. Wise words that Kyric Zen had once heard by his former teacher. In the same lecture though, Zen heard an equally valuable lesson. One that would inflict as much damage upon Kyric's young mind as his teacher hoped.
Brute strength is another choice in power. A good one.
Kyric Zen had a long brutul child hood on the out-of-the-way planet, Hargeeva. He was enrolled by his parents in the fighting academy in their local town. He was a natural.
Kyric... age twelve.
"HYAA!" A wave of snap kicks.
"HYOO" A wave of punches.
It was a dojo, full of about thirty twelve year old boys. It was a rather alrge room, weapons on the walls. Swords, staffs, chained weapons, and the likes. There was two old men, watching over the young students, with four other men sitting down, talking amongst themselves.
"Very good. Very very good indeed." One of the old men said to the students, "But as you know, today only four of you shall go on for higher training."
The faces of the children were grim. Each and everyone of them knew they would make it, as the other guys sucked. They knew that they would become warriors for Tenak--their country-- and go on to serve the greater good of them all.
"Now, your final challenge shall be open combat. An elimination style tournament, we have ranked each of you based on your preformances and your first round matches will be your hardest. Good luck." With his speech said he began to rattle of names and numbers. Young Kyric was last.
Kyric Zen, at age twelve was no more than four foot nine. The smallest in the group and not exactly the best. But he planned for this. His older brothers (all warriors) told him about the trials. And he planned to win.
Keeping his true skills a secret he looked slobby, slow, and weak compared to the other kids. But today, he would show them all not to mess with a Zen.
The fights dragged on for at least an hour and then Kyric was called to the ring. His opponent: Some punk named Tsank Law. Tsank was about five three and a good thirty pounds heavier.
"Come on short stuff." He barked at Kyric, both of them falling into stances. The big kid went for a punch, which was caught by Zen's leg, which then met his face. Followed by a hurricane kick from Zen.
In a matter of seconds it was over and Tsank Law was on the ground knocked out and had a broken nose. Zen stood over him, in a basic stance glancing down at the defeated opponent, then looking back at the six men, who watched the fights.
Brute strength is another choice in power. A good one.
Kyric Zen had a long brutul child hood on the out-of-the-way planet, Hargeeva. He was enrolled by his parents in the fighting academy in their local town. He was a natural.
Kyric... age twelve.
"HYAA!" A wave of snap kicks.
"HYOO" A wave of punches.
It was a dojo, full of about thirty twelve year old boys. It was a rather alrge room, weapons on the walls. Swords, staffs, chained weapons, and the likes. There was two old men, watching over the young students, with four other men sitting down, talking amongst themselves.
"Very good. Very very good indeed." One of the old men said to the students, "But as you know, today only four of you shall go on for higher training."
The faces of the children were grim. Each and everyone of them knew they would make it, as the other guys sucked. They knew that they would become warriors for Tenak--their country-- and go on to serve the greater good of them all.
"Now, your final challenge shall be open combat. An elimination style tournament, we have ranked each of you based on your preformances and your first round matches will be your hardest. Good luck." With his speech said he began to rattle of names and numbers. Young Kyric was last.
Kyric Zen, at age twelve was no more than four foot nine. The smallest in the group and not exactly the best. But he planned for this. His older brothers (all warriors) told him about the trials. And he planned to win.
Keeping his true skills a secret he looked slobby, slow, and weak compared to the other kids. But today, he would show them all not to mess with a Zen.
The fights dragged on for at least an hour and then Kyric was called to the ring. His opponent: Some punk named Tsank Law. Tsank was about five three and a good thirty pounds heavier.
"Come on short stuff." He barked at Kyric, both of them falling into stances. The big kid went for a punch, which was caught by Zen's leg, which then met his face. Followed by a hurricane kick from Zen.
In a matter of seconds it was over and Tsank Law was on the ground knocked out and had a broken nose. Zen stood over him, in a basic stance glancing down at the defeated opponent, then looking back at the six men, who watched the fights.