Toa stood up and walked over to Chris Alan. “You can join your friends outside now; but be here in three hours.” Chris Alan bowed and stumbled out of the room. Walking was now a task after two hours standing in one position in one spot. Rafael and Amber followed him out.

********************

“Hey, Blondie! Did you enjoy your session of statue acting?” Slate laughed as he nibbled a red fruit.

“Oh, hush. Alan, are you *sure* that Toa knows what he’s doing?”

“I feel pain, that’s all I know.” Chris Alan used the tree to help ease to the ground. He sorely – < no pun intended, > he thought wryly, but unintentional puns like that came to him all the time – he sorely missed having Life and Healing to deal with situations like this.

“This is a waste of time,” Slate growled. “He had you just standing there. You didn’t learn anything.”

“Actually, Slate, that is incorrect,” Rafael interjected.

“Oh, let me guess: he learned to daydream while in pain.”

“I already know how to do that,” said Chris Alan with a grimace, “thank you very much.”

“No, Slate,” Rafael went on, “Chris Alan learned how to stand.” All present dropped their jaws and opened their eyes wide.

“You’re kidding us! Does this guy think you’re a baby, learning how to stand? Next he’ll teach you how to walk.”

“He just might, Slate. He *did* warn me I would have to become as a child.” Chris Alan became thoughtful despite the ache in his legs. “Rafael, pull up the fight that Slate and I had in Cosmopolis. Go to the beginning, when we were still circling each other; it’s easier to see there. Freeze! Right, I thought so. Slate, you can’t tell me that no one ever taught *you* how to stand for your style of fighting. You were a student of Nicholas, just like Edwin; he must’ve taught you some things.”

“He did, all right, but standing like a statue wasn’t one of them. Old Nick likes to *move* when he fights.” Slate grinned, then became serious again. “I still don’t get it: no punch, no kick, *nothing*. I’d like to see someone beat *me* just by standing,” he mocked.

“You may well get your chance,” Toa voiced as he came out with a lunch tray and placed it on the ground. Starches and beans was the order of the day.

“Hey, Blondie here had to use his best high kick to beat me, when he helped in my arrest.” Slate still remembered that kick with awe – and with respect. “What do *you* have that can top *that*?”

“Do you truly want to know?” Toa asked. “Then I have a deal for you, Elemental.”

“Oh, really? *This* I gotta hear.”

“The floor of the Temple needs sweeping. If you can knock me down, then I will sweep it; but if I knock you down, then you will sweep the floor. I will not use my Gifts, or even my hands.” Toa smiled.

“You have a deal, old man,” Slate replied as he got up.

“*This* should be fun,” Autumn mused. Chris Alan focused on the lunch (he was very hungry), but he kept one eye on Slate and Toa.

Toa took the same stance he had Chris Alan perform for two hours. “Now push me down if you can.”

“Physical body against physical body?” Slate asked as he towered head and shoulders over Toa. “No Inner Fire from me and no Gifting from you?”

“That is acceptable.” Toa seemed to speak as if Slate’s Inner Fire wouldn’t make all that much difference, unless he’d called forth enough of it to shatter a small moon.

Slate smiled and rammed his full muscular force into Toa’s chest, but the venerable Blademaster remained unmoved. No matter how hard Slate pushed, Toa wouldn’t budge. Toa took a breath and stepped forward, and Slate fell on his back.

“The broom is in the closet.” The others watched as Slate went shaking hid head trying to figure out what happened. “After lunch, Chris Alan, we begin again.”

“Thank you, *Sifu* Toa.”