Train Thyself and Others

Kyran looked about the spacious gym in amazement. His brain couldn't wrap around why the directors had allowed him to resume his class. The Black Claw martial arts may be rare but he couldn't be the only practitioner around. Not to mention, he wasn't nearly a master. His brain tended to turn off when he found a worthy opponent. He'd rather throw everything at them and see if they survived rather than use the techniques he'd learned. It was a rather significant failing of his. The redhead shook himself. Focus on teaching today not the improvements you need.

Other classes were using the smaller rooms of the gym, set off to the side. Kyran's sharp hearing could pick up teacher's instructions, yelling and grunts of people being hit. The Stalwart Gym might soundproof its rooms yet few protections could prevent a slayer from hearing what they wanted. It seemed each class consisted of three or four students. Some were learning self defense. Some were learning more aggressive martial arts. None were teaching what Kyran offered. That made him feel slightly better. He'd worried those attending his class would do so due to his relative fame or that of his wife's rather than what he was actually teaching.

That being said, the slayer knew he'd have to weed the serious learners from those clout chasers. Those that only wanted to say they'd learned at Kyran's hand or at the hand of Gaia Sabin's husband weren't the kind of students he wanted. Perhaps he could do a literal trial by fire. The magic Hell had forced into his blood swirled around his hand briefly. The point of the Black Claw martial arts was to combine magical and martial abilities. It would show his students what was achievable. Yet... he snapped the magic off his hand. His martial arts were also meant to kill. Since Kyran had only recently acquired the flame slayer magic, using it against students might result in an accidental death. The redhead would figure it out later.

Later being now. The redhead drew up short. No less than twenty students stood at the ready near his teaching pad. The number was augmented to nearly double that number by extras milling about nearby. A camera or two told him some of those others were just paparazzi. He mentally cursed his wife's job. If she hadn't modeled in the Sorcerer's Magazine, he wouldn't have to deal with this. Kyran knew he'd never ask her to stop. She enjoyed that job nearly as much as being an Ace for Sabertooth. The redhead wouldn't take that away from her.

Kyran unleashed the full magical potential of an H rank mage. Usually he kept it leashed since some people became sick from the pressure. Now he had no such qualms. The twenty standing at the ready firmed their stances. He recognized a few former pupils. Those milling around didn't have such a lucky reaction. Several threw up noisily. Kyran drew in a deep breath and pulled on his 'tough' guise.

"Good afternoon class!" He shouted, striding confidently to the front. "Those of you who couldn't handle my magical pressure - leave. This class is not for you. Those of you here to only take pictures - leave. I'm not my wife, I don't model for anyone but her. Those of you here chasing clout..." Kyran smiled slowly. The air around him rippled, shredding the cloth on his arms. His tattoos stood out starkly. Chains wrapped around his left, Thorns wrapped around his right, each going all the way to his shoulders. "...I hope you like walking through Hell for it." The redhead leashed his magical potential once more and waited

People ran for the door. Not nearly as many as Kyran had suspected but enough. Most of those who remained took up position before their new teacher. Only two of the paparazzi remained behind. They looked green while they held their ground. Kyran moved using his techniques. His body swirled with magical energy pushing him faster. His feet placement helped propel him even faster. The first camera died to a slice from his hand. He tried and failed to augment that with wind. Kyran grit his teeth. Always learning, always moving forward. The second camera melted before a palm strike augmented with heat. Blisters formed on its owner's face. Practice would be necessary before using that again.

The paparazzi broke for the door. Kyran straightened and moved back to the teacher's mat. "Those of you who remain, well done. Let's get down to business." He guided them through a movement kata, a offensive kata (the palm strike he'd executed) and a defensive kata. Best to cover all their bases. Each kata was to be repeated for the next two hours. Kyran wondered if that exhaustive training would weed out the weak or harden their resolve.

PWC: 811

The two hours of practice went well, in Kyran's eyes. His former pupils found it easy having learned these kata before. The newer students pushed themselves rather than giving up. It brought a smile to his face seeing that determination. People with that willpower could go far in life. The redhead called for a break and moved through the students. He congratulated the new students while greeting his old pupils. Those breathing hard, the redhead directed to water he'd ordered for the lesson over on the side.

Kyran's instincts were what drew his eyes to the girl. Pink haired, seemingly having an easy time with the exercise while her scent teased something familiar. His nostrils flared as he attempted to drag in more of the scent. She'd been staring intensely at him the entire practice. It made him uncomfortable, unsure if she wanted to fight or wanted something else. He drew in a deep breath and stepped over to the girl finally.

"Good Afternoon." Kyran said as cheerily as he could manage. "You've been staring intensely all lesson. Do you have a comment or question for me?" The redhead clasped his hands behind his back. He hoped, intensely, that this girl wasn't some kind of clout chaser, stalker or creeper. There was only a shadow of a doubt in his mind in that direction but it was enough for him to worry. Kyran could have chattered on like his wife or his sister, nervously spewing words. However, he'd never found that tactic useful. His stare, hard and unblinking, tended to unveil what he needed much faster. Would this girl crumble? he wondered, or is that stare indicative of a steel spine?

PWC: 281/1092

Kyran noticed the fire burning behind those emerald eyes. A steel spine then. The question, delivered with slight hesitation, made his eyebrows raise. Multiple solutions flashed through his mind. He could handle it quietly with this student. He could make a big scene. Use this question as a teaching moment flashed into his mind. "An excellent question!" Kyran said smiling. "I hope you don't mind if I use this question to teach." He said to the pink haired woman.

"Class, tell me something. Is it alright to harm a few innocents for the good of the many? For the safety of family and friends?" The redhead took time to look each student in the eye. His hands were clasped behind his back. Some looked away, refusing to answer at all. Some stared back defiantly. Finally, one student stepped forth. She was clothed in a blue gi with a white belt around her waist. Red hair was braided down her back. "Yes! For the good of family, friends and the greater good, hurting a few, even the innocent isn't only just but necessary!"

Kyran applauded her bravery. It was the answer most of them thought was the correct one. He had a different conclusion however. "I can't tell you that you're wrong, or that you're right. The answer to that particular question must be answered by each individual when they are in that kind of situation. Until you stand before those few innocents, their lives, their well being cradled in your palm, the true answer will always be hidden in your heart." His hand gestured to the pink haired girl. The students briefly looked toward her. "This woman might be the only one who could confidently answer. She knows I'm stronger, knows that I could punish her for questioning my actions. She questioned anyways. I applaud her. It was an accident honestly, but that doesn't excuse my actions." The redhead turned toward the woman. He inclined his head, his hands still clasped behind his back.

Another thought, important to this particular lesson crossed his mind. Kyran directed their attention to a training circle. Runes were carved into the edges to catch any overflow of magic from within. "Please join me in the ring, uh... I didn't catch your name." He glanced at her questioningly. Would her righteousness prevent her from answering? She hadn't left though. A puzzle that Kyran wanted to unravel. "Dole out the punishment you deem fit, using the magic at your command and any skills you possess." The words were said low so none but the pinkette could hear them. Kyran turned toward the other students. "Before I climb into the ring, let me leave you with this: No innocent should ever be harmed for the 'greater good'. If you are willing to do so, examine your path. One innocent becomes two. Two becomes four. The sacrifice you justify will continue to grow until you hardly recognize yourself any longer. It grows until it encompasses anything and everything you can justify, even those you sacrificed innocents for to begin with."

The redhead turned and walked into the ring. Now came for the second part of the lesson. An important part that he felt all the students should learn. Justice for innocents had its limits. Specifically, the limits of the individual enacting said justice. For one to safely avoid the situation of sacrificing innocents, one had to know their own limits. Further, they had to know the gap between themselves and any opponents so they could work to overcome it. He hoped he could rein in his battle lust in order to teach that part correctly.

WC: 607/1699

Kyran quirked an eyebrow at the girl. He clasped his hands behind his back. "Tell me something then, Miss... Why did you speak out?" Images flashed through his mind. Memories of dark times where a similar question was asked of him. Something he still struggled to deal with despite having his wife and his kids. A constant question of whether he was worthy, whether someone like him could protect other. "Furthermore, why choose my class? I didn't hide that this martial art is brutal. I told them to print that clearly." He hadn't followed up however and that was his failure.

The redhead took a deep breath. His magic began to flow into him. The hunger reared its head. The dark need to crush opponents coupled with a desire to draw out an opponent's strength. Kyran took another deep breath, releasing all his magic. That wasn't needed here. His feet moved. His unnatural speed took him behind the pinkette. Scratching his chin, Kyran poked her shoulder. "Are you trying to be a blade or a shield? Square up or turn your body more." The redhead moved again before the girl could turn. He reappeared in front of her. "Personally, I prefer shield. Absorb as many hits while dishing powerful blows back. However, I have a few attributes that make that style of fighting preferable."

Kyran sank down into a wide stance. His arms were bent, tucked into his sides. His feet were firmly planted. "Hit me with your best shot. All your magic, all your power into one blow. i won't move from here or use magic. I want to see what you can hit me with, not make you dance to my tune. If you don't wish to perform, as you put it, walk out of the circle." A hard edge had entered his voice. It might sound like he was angry but that was Kyran merely preparing for the incoming attack. He threw a teasing challenge into the mix as well. the corner of his mouth swept up into a smirk. "Or are you not strong enough to stand behind your convictions?"

WC: 344/2043

Kyran raised an eyebrow at the pinkette's declaration. His lips quirked as well almost unwillingly. "Would it that someone in my village had had your convictions. I both admire you a little for it and hate you for it." He rubbed his hand across his chin. His mind refused to wrap around one parcel of her speech. Was one meant to constantly be perfect in this regard? Never harming an innocent no matter what? Furthermore, she assumed much. Who was to say the man was an innocent? Not to mention her casual disregard of his past or potential struggle with certain actions. He remained silent for the time being.

The pinkette wasn't quite done, embellishing her answer to his question. He couldn't deny that terrible feeling of being disregarded. Again. Without - He cut that thought off abruptly. This time there was a reason. One that Kyran didn't want to ignore. The redhead watched the pinkette carefully. If he tried to tell his story, would she disregard it? Call it an excuse?

When the fire first appeared, Kyran's eyes widened. Could he eat it? The instant knot in his stomach warned him against that folly. It would hurt him to eat this kind of fire. As the spell hit him, his own defenses took hold. His resistance to fire seemed to nullify a good portion of the damage. His shirt burned weakly around the edges of the hit. Kyran burned the fabric away with a brief flash of magic. A snap of his fingers sent up a wall of wind about the circle. Now they had some privacy.

Kyran took a deep breath and slowly used his magic to illuminate the scars. Hundreds of thousands of scars began overtake his torso with indications that they extended into his lower half. "This isn't an excuse for my behavior. Rather, I'm attempting to grant an insight. Not everything is straight forward." He held up a finger. His mind tried to overlay hundreds of injured images. Kyran closed his eyes. Not the time for those nightmares. "Before I get into that, nice punch. You'll get more power if you plant your back foot and twist your hips into the punch."

Then Kyran gestured to his body. "I started getting these when I was four. From four until I ran at eighteen or so, the entirety of my village abused me. I was treated as less than an animal, a plaything and made to believe I deserved it. That kind of treatment creates a rage." Maybe he'd gone back a little too much. He rubbed his eyes. "You don't need the intimate details. My point is I struggle with that rage to this day and one woman, one angel of humanity, has deemed me worthy. I don't know why but I will do what I can to protect her. Unfortunately, those two things tangle together at times." Kyran slowly let the scars fade. He left one, a blow that should have killed him, illuminating the skin over his heart.

"That man wished to hurt my Gaia, because she's a famous model. No reason more than that. I wished to stop his ability to do so. My control slipped. His face was burned as I tried to melt his camera, only." Ah, he was botching this with every word. He'd spewed information more so than giving her what she might need to understand. Kyran sighed heavily. "Look, I'm not good with words. I was hurt, never taught the 'good' in people nor that there are 'innocents'. I had to learn about both on my own. I struggle every day not to see others as the enemy, out to hurt me. Forgive me for trying to teach what I wish I'd been taught while also attempting to stick to my own lessons."

Kyran decided to leave it at that. The redhead let all of his magic fade. Let the pinkette draw her own conclusions. He'd provided more info, if she still found fault, he'd leave it at that. Kyran tried not to think about how he needed the approval of others to believe he wasn't a monster or less somehow. The redhead turned to the rest of the class. "Pair up! Practical training. One of you use the offensive kata and the other use the defensive kata. No striking the face or neck, those blows can kill if you strike wrong or with enough power." Kyran glanced back at the pinkette before stepping out of the ring. She would do as she wished.

WC: 757/2800