"Close your eyes and center yourself," Hong says, sitting back down. "Imagine this dummy to be made of stone, then punch it."
Why would I want to do that?
Humoring the old madman, Skaar closes his eyes. If there was a chance this foolishness could get his manhood back in action, he’d give it a chance.
Picturing Sefirous in his mind’s eye, Skaar than imagines him made of stone and then strikes. Feeling his fist collide with the dummy, he strikes again, and again.
"Try again," Hong says, setting up another training dummy. Skaar opens his eyes to see a pile of splintered wood at his feet. "Don't strike with anger, strike as if you are attempting to move a mountain. Your fist must not expect to do anything."
Skaar growls in frustration and shuts his eyes again.
Don't strike with anger? Striking with anger's the best part...
The big orc recalls the fight with the leader of the Skulls. He'd seen so much of himself in the fat man that he'd tried to save him. There was nothing he could do to save him from himself.
"Relax," Skaar hears Hong say. Then he feels a firm grip on his arm. Hong then extends Skaar's arm toward the dummy. It feels as if Hong was trying to tear his arm out of its socket. The orc's fist collides with the dummy hard.
"Like that. Twenty times."
He’s pretty strong for a mummy…
Grumbling, Skaar tries to clear his mind and repeat the maneuver.
Skaar seems to drift away as he is punching at the dummy. Each punch feels like it takes an eternity to complete. The orc's mind wanders.
"Father! Move that mountain!"
You see the young boy looking at up you, beaming. He points to a tall mountain that abuts the shoreline. It looks the same as when you died.
"Punch the mountain, father! Move it for me!"
You approach this mountain and begin to punch it. Slowly at first, then quickening. The giant rock begins to move inches, to your surprise. You then notice your fists don't hurt either.
"Enough!" Hong calls and Skaar opens his eyes. The dummy appears untouched. "Good. You have learned discipline. Now it is time for patience. Sit."
Skaar is surprised, both at the daydream, and at the effectiveness of the old man's coaching. He doesn't even have time to say something before Hong gives him his next instruction.
With a heavy thud, the hulking orc falls to the ground.
"How long we gunna do this for?" he grunts.
"As long as it takes."
Skaar frowns and resigns himself to his fate.
After a long moment he scratches his chest, ”What are we waitin’ for?”
"For you to learn patience," Hong says, unperturbed. "Until you can sit and wait for the right moment to present itself, you cannot understand the true meaning of strength."
Skaar grunts and scratches himself again, lower this time. He closes his eyes and tries to think about the boy again – the boy that could be.
What’s he gunna say when I tell him about this place? Will it make him laugh?
"Hit me, Skaar. I know you want to."
The hulking orc growls when Sefirous appears. Another trick no doubt.
”Yea, I wanna smash your face in”, he growls. ”But when I do it’s gunna be on my terms and it’s going to be for real. This is one of your tricks just like your offer to remove the curse.”
”Now get outta my head. I see enough of your ugly mug as it is.”
”That whole bit about removing the curse for me – that was so could get a piece of me for yourself, wasn’t it?” he adds with a harsh laugh.
”Sometimes the waitin’ is the best part”, the big orc says with a laugh as he imagines Corda’s nubile form writhing under his touch. ”But you wouldn’t know much about that would you?”
Skaar raises a brow at his mindscape nemesis’s wisdom.
”Can’t it be both?” the big orc asks. ”And thanks for the tip.”
"You searched for Zahira, but you also lusted for Corda. Perhaps in your mind, that is acceptable. But if you cut down a tree to build a fire, you also affect that which is around you. You have to think upon the consequences of your actions, not just to yourself, but to those around you. You are not alone and your life has affected many, friend and foe alike," Sefirous says, continuing to diverge from the daemon you know. "You cannot seize everything in your grasp. You must choose wisely, but that takes patience."
”Yea, I wanted Corda. I’ve got needs - that’s not gunna change - but I never lied to her and I’d never do anything she didn’t want.”
”I know the s!!& I do affects people. Why do you think I started this whole f+*!ing journey? All I’ve ever done is try to make up for the past”, Skaar says with conviction.
”And I know I can’t have everything but I’m not gunna give up – not on Zahira and our boy and not on my friends on Zahvroma. If patience means accepting losing one of them then I don’t wanna be patient.”
"Then how will you know what you must do if you can't wait? Making up for the past is a noble thing, but what good is it if you sacrifice the future? The world isn't going to bow to your whims. You still carry that badge for the Icathian Royal Army. That is where you pledged your service and your strength. Or did you forget that?" Sefirous asks, a look of disapproval and pity on his face. "Your trysts with Zahira pale in comparison to that. You want your son, but what world will you leave him if you shirk your duty? She told you that she is a warrior. Have faith in her."
”What about the seer? She said Zahira and our boy would be lost without my help.”
"The future is always unwritten. The seer said so herself, but she didn't say that you had to come all the way out here. She said your son's birth may or may not come to pass, but nothing about your involvement. You took it upon yourself to come here, despite the vanara's warnings. We're done here. If you learned something, good for you. If not, that'll make the next test harder."
The vision of Sefirous fades and you are back in the monastery, Hong sitting in front of you with his eyes closed.
Skaar blinks and stretches, ”How long has it been?”
”I think I know everything I’m gunna learn ‘bout patience.”
"It has been six hours," Hong says. "You wouldn't have woken from your vision if you didn't learn all you need to learn."
The stiffness in the big orc’s joins confirm the old man’s words.
Standing with a groan, Skaar looks around, ”So what’s next?”
"Food," Hong says, signaling to a couple of novice monks. "Also, your friend must be tired. You can rest after our meal or continue."
The monks bring down several bowls of rice. "Eat, you will need your strength."
Skaar escorts Corda to whatever space was allotted to them for rest.
”I’ll be okay girl. The old man is crazy but he’s not dangerous. You’ll see me in the mornin’ – god’s willing, without this damned choker.”
Returning to Hong, the big orc frowns at the food. He didn’t have much of an appetite lately and the offered meal wasn’t very appetizing but this whole process didn’t make much sense to him, why would the food. Skaar feels a bit foolish eating the tiny softened grains.
Hong finishes his bowl. "You have learned determination, the willingness to use one's strength. You then learned discipline, knowing how much of one's strength to use. Now, you have learned patience, knowing when to use one's strength. Now, you must learn focus, how to direct one's strength."
The old man sets up a stack of three bricks. "You must strike from the top, only destroying the bottom one."
Bjorkus groans in pain as the freakishly large aasimar proves to be as strong as he looks.
Skaar nods. This was a test he could. Smashing things was one of his greatest talents.
Squaring off with the bricks, the big orc rears back and smashes his fist into them.
Only to strike from a bad angle and do little more than injure his hand. After many shouted curses, the big orc squares off and tries again.
For his next two attempts he strikes true but applies too much force, smashing all three bricks to powder and splintering the base. He growls in frustration and, after he’s presented with more bricks, tries again.
Again, he fails to break the obstacles underhand and screaming pain shoots up his arm. The big orcs curses some more and finds something to wrap his bleeding, likely broken, fist.
As more bricks are brought out, Skaar shuts his eyes for a moment. This is just like the dummy. I gotta hit it hard but not hard enough to level the whole thing…
After a centering breath, he takes another swing.
And is rewarded with the satisfying sound of a single brick breaking.
"Very good," Hong says. "It takes others many years to get that down. That is focus."
Skaar nods slowly. ”I’m a fast learner”, he mutters while still marveling at the technical feat he accomplished.
Snapping back to his senses he turns to the old man again, ”What do I need to learn next?”
"Concentration," Hong says, retrieving a thick bamboo sword. "Sit, put your hand between your legs and push up. Support your entire weight with that hand. Now, you must learn how to maintain your strength even in the most uncomfortable of circumstances."
When you assume the position, Hong begins walking around you, making measured and strong strikes against your body with the bamboo sword.
The position was awkward, doubly so because the brawny orc wasn’t the most dexterous creature but Skaar’s practice with wrestling hold made it possible.
Planting his meaty hand on the ground between his legs, the hulking greenskin lifts himself from the ground and balances, precariously, by the flexing slabs of muscle along one shoulder alone.
Skaar endures the pain easily enough - the old man's blows were more like love-taps on his thick hide but it was just enough of a distraction for the big orc to bend his elbow slightly causing him to shift his weight and collapse the whole position.
Growling in frustration, more at himself than the old man, Skaar resets his stance and tries again.
"Good. Two lessons remain," Hong says, putting the bamboo sword down. "Now, you must learn humility. Even though your strength is great, it is not always the best course. It is easy for one to become proud and use their strength to serve themselves, but you must be willing to serve others as well. Go and clean the monastery. Return once you are done."
Skaar raises an eyebrow in disbelief. When no punchline comes, the big orc stomps off grumbling.
When this turns out to be some big joke, I’m tossin’ the old man off the mountain.
Despite it being the middle of the night, Skaar works diligently, sweeping, mopping, and scrubbing until his hands are raw.
Returning to Hong, Skaar sees that all of the other monks are asleep save their master. The old man grunts in satisfaction. "Tell me: what do you think the last lesson is? You have learned determination, discipline, patience, focus, concentration and humility. What do you think is the one thing that ties all that together to make one's strength effective?"
”I dunno”, Skaar says while flexing his big sore hands.
He ponders for a moment and reflects on the previous lessons, ”Courage?”
"For some, yes. For others, it is understanding or knowledge. Since you said 'courage', that must mean that there is something you fear. What is it that you fear so that you may face it?"
Skaar silently curses himself for speaking up too soon.
He pauses to consider the question. What was it he feared? There wasn’t any specific person or thing. It wasn’t pain or death – he’d died once already. Was it failure? Loss?
No, what he feared was bigger than those things – more pervasive and powerful. He feared fate. Can an orc with such a bloody history truly aspire for something better? Could he repay the debts of his past?
”My past”, the hulking greenskin answers. ”Blackwater; Sefirous; all the people I raped, tortured, and killed. I’m ‘fraid I’ll never escape it.”
"You cannot assess a painting by its final brushstroke or a mountain by the last rock on its peak. Your past makes you who you are today. You can see the difference in you and measure it. Do you want to face your past?" Hong asks, taking a small bowl and crushing some herbs in it.
Skaar nods, "I have to."