Emanuel sits there, silent. I can’t tell what's running through his head. I am trying to exude an image of strength and show how I am collected in these times of panic and uncertainty. I fear my fiddling thumbs portray how I really feel. This was a time I didn’t like to think about, but at night they returned to my nightmares.

“Have you looked them up? Your old crew, that is.” Emanuel asks.

“No. I think it’s best for them if I stay far. I don’t even know how long ago that was. I am not really good at telling time.” I respond.

“You should fix that.”

“ I don’t regret taking action,” I say as I look into his eyes. My sudden steadiness takes Emanuel aback. “But I don’t relish the thought. I remember every name on that ship and every delivery we made. That’s why I’m a bit disheartened by your training results so far.”

I point at the two batons “One of your strengths gives you the level of control I have. You’re other…” My eyes move from the batons to the twin tube pistoles. “The other leaves you little room for such flexibility. “

Emanuel's response to this shook me to my core.

“It wouldn’t be the first life we took.” He says with his eyes staring at his hands. His words cut the air, and my mind was forced to remember Crimson. I took the burden of his death on myself. I never once thought Emanuel would blame himself.

“That is on me.” I rush out, trying to redirect his pain.

“I built the trap.”

“I take responsibility.”

“So do I. He deserved it.” Emanuel’s words don’t waver, but he can't hide his true feelings no matter how tough he tries to act. Tears form at the edges of his eyes as he grips his pant legs tighter. “If I could go back in time, I don’t think I would have done it differently. It was to save your life. It was…to save my life.”

My body went cold when he said that. One so young speaking of death’s domain with such ease. My mind filled them with ways I could help him not become a blood-crazed killer.

“I vomited when I saw his hand.” Emanuel continues to say. “The smell of burnt fleshed is singed into my brain, but it wasn’t the first time I smelt it. I still hate it. I hope I continue to hate it. If someone comes for my life, I won’t hold myself back, but I won’t make that my first choice.

“All life is precious. I wouldn’t make my choices if I didn’t believe that.”

“Then when do we decide to kill?” He asks.

“There is no one-for-one rule. Most of the time, it's truly a case-by-case basis, and even then, the individual's ideals, morality, and beliefs all play a factor. However, if I had to give a rule. It is ok when it's for your personal survival when you have no other choice, or if letting them live means the extinguishing of other lives.”

“We should protect all life,” Emanuel says to himself.

“Including our own. Please don’t lose sight that our goal is to escape the bloodshed while shedding the least amount of blood.”

“All life is precious.”

“We should protect it at all costs.”

Emanuel stands, holding a baton in one hand and a tube pistol in another. “Including our own. I will carry both weapons, as I will hold the stick to defend, but I will keep my hand on my pistol.”

I hope I said the right thing. I don’t know how others give advice and not worry if their words alter the course of someone's life. How do they know if this is for the better or not?

We continue our training, focusing on both styles, which leads to lesson three of “Cid’s Perfect Training Plan.” The third is to break down their weaknesses. I looked for gaps in his fighting and in his character.

One’s habits in life will always bleed into our work, even if we pretend they are unrelated. His anxious behavior, coupled with his impatience, creates a “rush first and react approach.” It doesn’t help that he has some innate talent with magic. I feel bad for him as his true skills lie in spellcasting, but the time it would take for me to teach him the arcane arts is one we can’t afford. If he had a magic tutor, that would be different.

So I came up with a plan. I ventured out of the woods and back into the city. I was wearing my go-to disguise gear: a tattered cloak, a full-face mask, and a secondary mask. I also had long rubber gloves that stretched past my forearm. The goal was to cover as much bright orange slime as possible.

I made it to a small bookstore on the corner of the city. Inside is a mirage of books, some not even in the local library, from history to cooking and, most importantly, magic. I asked the shop owner what books would be necessary for a child to learn the basics of magic. She ran through the whole shop, pointing out books focusing on the basics to tomes of advanced spells. With a twinkle in her eye, she asks what I will be purchasing, hoping it will be a big payday.

None.

 I can see the glimmer in her eye get snuffed out as it dawns on her that she wasted the last three hours reviewing the entire catalog for nothing. I will leave with zero books because I have zero cash flow. Instead, I thanked her for her time and wandered out before new customers entered.

I returned that night and snuck into her shop. I loaded up a bag I had on the outside with all the best books she recommended. Of course, I left her something: a thirty-page letter explaining why it was important I stole these books and how she contributed to the growth of a struggling boy and a God. It was thirty pages long because my handwriting is big, not because I wrote a lot. Emanuel calls it a waste of paper.

With the books in his hand, he began studying spellwork. I focused on my own training. Emanuel tried to get me to learn, but I ignored him and said he could explain it to me later.

This gave him an ego.

The first spells he learned were basic spells, which are common to most seasoned fighters. This spell acts as a small, protective, invisible layer of skin over the body made of the Source. It can block knives and bullets. Though a trained warrior worth their salt knows to use their weapons and fuse with Source to try to break through the second skin, whoever is stronger has the advantage of most parts. In his current state, he can block on bullet coated in the Source or take fifteen to twenty regulars before the skin breaks.

This fuels his mentality to jump in and think second. So, how do I break this habit? By breaking him. I mean, almost breaking him. Through a combination of surprise attacks where I hid in bushes and launched a fist at him, surprise landslides and the occasional wild root booter in his nap sack will remind him he is vulnerable.

Fun Fact:

A Root Booter is a tube-shaped rodent about a foot long. It has a barbed tail and lives at the roots of trees. They are insanely cute and delicious.

Were these tools ideal? No, but they were all I had. We could steal, borrow, and accept unknowing donations for so long. Still, it was worth it when I was in a bush and fired out four arms with a non-crystalline fist at Emanuel. He ducked the first and danced around the other two with the grace of a dog walking bipedally on its hind legs. Instead of charging the bush, he waited.

Now, there is a secret fourth step. The most important of them all, in my opinion.

Repeat it all.

Your fundamentals are the core of everything you learn, and they can always use work. You are always improving. You need evolve your good skills into amazing, and don’t settle for amazing. Those skills can be pushed even further. Weaknesses appear with every strength, so make sure you don’t believe you have no gaps because all you are doing is making it easier for you to fall.

We repeated this only one more cycle. What seemed like a few weeks was closer to a year, and Emanuel’s patience was wearing thin—reasonably so.

Still, we need at least two more cycles until I feel he is ready to tackle the docks. He argues he is ready, but all I can think of is Crimson's blade slicing me and making its way to Emanuel. We don’t know who Crane has hired to replace him. I rather not take the risk. Though, I can’t shake this feeling. It’s similar to how I felt when I reached into the Life Vien. A similar energy is growing in the woods. Larger by the day. A feeling of being hunted down as a mysterious force tries to lock on my location.

Maybe it would be best if we rushed out?