Roll of Honor: Zen

Zen wrapped his knuckles in cloth, a well-practiced ritual to calm his mind. Behind him, the training yard filled with students from the School of the Hand, an excited mob eager to see their great Master Morita spar with his star graduate.

Zen and Morita bowed and took up their fighting positions, awaiting the peal of the starting gong. The percussion cascaded down upon them from the giant brass disc. As the students leaned in, Zen lunged forward, his movement as precise as a tiger's pounce. His fists struck at Morita with measured ferocity, an attack intended to shatter his opponent's resolve. Yet the venerable Master moved with the grace of a willow tree bending in the wind, warding off each swipe with implacable elegance.

The students gasped as Zen and Morita traded blows, a tiger economy of defense and offense, tradition and form. Neither side gained nor gave an inch. Like waves crashing against a cliff, such was the ebb and flow of their martial chi.

Yet balance is never eternal.

The battle stretched on until Zen's muscles grew leaden with fatigue. But by testing Morita's every defense, Zen had found his elusive weakness. From the deepest well within, Zen drew the last of his resolve. Chi flowed through his arms, engulfing his hands with the shimmering claws of an apex predator.

The crowd gasped as one.
Even Master Morita's eyes widened in surprise.

Zen struck through that moment of hesitation, sweeping past his master's belated block and landing a resounding blow. The impact sent Morita bouncing across the yard like a stone skipping across a river.

A shocked silence settled upon the school.

Zen crossed the yard, his head held low in respect, and extended a hand towards the defeated master.

"It is only by the strength you taught me that I have bested you this day," offered Zen.

With a groan, Morita took the proffered hand and allowed himself to be hauled to his feet.

"I have taught many students over the years, but so few with the inner strength you possess." The Master straightened his robes. "It is a teacher's greatest hope that the student will one day surpass the sensei."

Zen bowed in acknowledgment. "You honor me."

"And you humble me," chuckled Master Morita. "And you will humble many to come."