The living room looked very empty without the big bed in the corner facing the television, so the boy decided to put metal racks in its place, filling the shelves with various indoor plants and flowers, as well as crystals from the shop.

Every morning, after the boy had completed his workout and took a shower, he would descend the stairs, light an incense, and pray in front of the metal racks filled with flowers and crystals. 

He had become accustomed to facing the sun 5 times a day in silent prayer, but the meditation he practiced in front of where his grandmother once slept, was his favorite part of the day. 

The boy exhaled and bowed, standing up just as the old man descended the stairs into the doorway.

The old man instructed the boy every morning in martial arts. He had given the boy books on spiritual awareness, herbal medicines, meditation, medicinal fungi, crystals, everything he had read. 

But this art, in which he instructed the boy, could not be fully mastered through a book.

The boy had been taught not only how to use certain techniques, but also how they feel when used on him. Today, the boy would learn his most important lesson.

“Why do we prepare for war even if we practice peace?” Asked the old man.

“Because it is far better to be a warrior in a garden, than a gardener in a war.” Stated the boy. 

“Why must a warrior love himself?” Questioned the old man.

“Because nobody loves a warrior until the enemy is at the gates.” Replied the boy. 

The old man nodded his approval.

“Up to this point I have taught you how to damage and immobilize your opponent, but more importantly, how to unify your body and your spirit to be used as a weapon. As is within, so is without. As is above, so is below.”

“Never forget the lessons you learn are to be applied metaphorically and allegorically to all manners of life. If your opponent tenses, then you become loose. This is used not only physically but mentally as well. If you are stiff as a steel bridge in body or mind, surely the order of your life will be rigid and brittle, and any call for flexibility will crumble your mighty structure.”

The boy nodded in understanding, but stayed silent. 

“This is the final lesson of the Red Dragons. Every fight is a fight to the death.”

The boy’s eyes grew wide with surprise.

“Whether the fight is physical, spiritual, mental, or emotional, every single battle should be treated as if your life depended on it. When I trained you in the art form of Kyusho, I taught you to immobilize your opponent at close range in as little as one to two moves.”

The old man stepped closer to the boy. 

“You only have one or two moves before you die. Never underestimate your opponent. While you are meditating, praying, going to school, eating, laughing, working; there is a man out there who is smoking cigarettes, lifting weights, eating bologna sandwiches, and contemplating every possible way he can fuck up your day.”

“In this world we must maintain balance. You cannot be completely good without being a bit evil, the same as you cannot be completely evil without possessing some good. If one of great evil exists, there will always come one of great good, and vice versa. The light and dark should exist in harmony, but the darkness can not be allowed to flourish. Do you overstand?”

“Yes, sir.” Replied the boy. 

With that, the old man bowed, and the boy reciprocated the gesture. 

“With this final knowledge, you are now a Dragon. Do not let your ego abuse this title, lest your crown be removed from your head.”

The boy nodded his understanding.

Now,” said the old man as he rubbed his hands together, “comes the final phase of initiation into the masters.”

“What’s that?” Asked the boy.

The old man smiled wickedly. 

“Your tattoo.”

Next Chapter: The Process