[This is dedicated to Bruce Lee, Grandmaster Ted Sandy (nature fist system), Sifu Abu Aziz (my personal instructor, nature fist), and Sifu Wayne Quwintine (Bruce Lee’s JKD, my first teacher).]

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“Be like water making its way through cracks. Do not be assertive, but adjust to the object, and you shall find a way round or through it. If nothing within you stays rigid, outward things will disclose themselves.

“Empty your mind; be formless, shapeless, like water. If you put water into a cup, it becomes the cup. You put water into a bottle and it becomes the bottle. You put it in a teapot it becomes the teapot. Now, water can flow or it can crash. Be water, my friend.” – Bruce Lee

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“Win the battle before it is fought.” – Paraphrase of Sun Tzu

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“It takes thousands of great students to make a Grandmaster.” – Toa

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Chris Alan and Autumn had fully “recovered” from their honeymoon. Its last few days were full of both pleasure and the painful reality that it had to end. After Chris Alan had returned from the swamp, the couple had spent three weeks together. Then they had spent a few days with Chris Alan’ parents, who poured out buckets of love on their new daughter-in-law. Even Chris Alan’s father was more emotional than usual. The sight of his parents made Chris Alan feel at ease.

In addition, Chris Alan had made some good friends on his last mission, and he kept contact with him via the Nexus. But now the next mission was to begin, and Chris Alan had to turn his mind toward the future.

< “All good things come to an end,” > he thought when he reminded himself of this. < Or maybe a better quote would be, “there is a time and a place for everything.” >

For his next mission, Chris Alan had to travel to the far northeast of Ge as measured from its geographic center, to a location many Adamim had not been for thousands of years: *The Temple of Pain*. Its name alone gave Chris Alan an uneasy feeling. He was looking forward to exploring the relic, which was built by the first Lightchildren, but the “fame” of Grandmaster Toa also brought dread. The Lord had a knack for naming people and things what they truly were; and Chris Alan knew that the names “Temple of Pain” and “Disciple of Pain” hadn’t been given lightly.

While visiting his parents, Chris Alan had taken time (using Rafael’s interface) to explore all the history of the place and all of the files on Toa. Long ago, Blademasters on Ge were trained in the Temple of Pain, not in the Heart of the Sphere as they were now; and all references made to the Grandmaster himself were a bit scary. He was a teacher who cut his students no slack – to put it mildly.

And now it was time to leave. Waiting near the *Hind*, Chris Alan watched Autumn hug his parents, bidding them farewell for now. She then picked up her traveling bag and walked toward him.

Chris Alan smiled. Autumn would accompany him on this mission, which made Chris Alan feel so much better. Acting Chief Engineer Slate Rockmire would be present also, to assist with the *Hind* and with other matters as required.

“Are we all set, Alan?” Autumn seemed as eager as he even though she was not the one about to have a life-changing experience.

“Yes, my dear, the *Hind* is all prepped and ready.” He took her left hand and led her to the ship.

“Where’s Slate?”

“He’s already aboard, believe it or not.”

“You’re finally getting through to him?”

“I hope so!” Chris Alan smiled as they boarded.

“Hey, Blondie,” Slate called out cheerfully as the couple entered the bridge. “Ma’am,” he added with a nod and a smile to Autumn.

“Welcome aboard, Captain,” Rafael greeted as Slate went to his assigned seat, which (like Slate himself) was “larger than life” by normal Adami standards. Chris Alan sat in the Captain’s chair as usual; Rafael was in his cradle by Chris Alan, accessing both Navigation and Helm from there. Autumn sat on his right in the First Officer’s chair, where Amber her Guardian was already resting in her own cradle.

“Take us there, old friend.”

“I obey,” Rafael replied. “As instructed, I have calculated the best path and speed, which will cause us to arrive almost instantaneously.”

“Very well. On my mark…*go!*”

As Chris Alan gave the command, the *Hind* winked out of sight.

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True to Rafael’s statement, the *Hind* winked back into normal space precisely where and when it needed to be. Chris Alan stood up, waited for Rafael to disengage from his cradle and rise to float over his shoulder, and left the *Hind* with Autumn, Amber and Slate in his wake.

“Where is it, old friend?” Chris Alan looked around seeing nothing but an empty valley; he could hear a distant waterfall about twenty, maybe twenty-two kilocubits away.

“Wait and see.” Rafael spoke as he ran the program that was unlocked weeks earlier. Suddenly the cloak hiding the Temple vanished, and there it stood, built very close to the eastern rock face of the valley.

The Temple was beautiful to behold; in its time, it must’ve been perfect. The only imperfection it had now was that the left side of its dome had caved in. It was an old building, and it looked old.

Chris Alan scanned the building visually from roof to foundation. The Temple’s golden dome was half of a perfect sphere. Exhortations in Eastern and Adamic scripts ran along the gold and jade balcony that circled the base of the dome. The dome itself sat on a rectangular building which measured one hundred and forty four cubits in length and seventy two cubits in width. The dome was held up by six pillars, all made of jade, while the rectangular building was made of white marble. The height of the pillars made Chris Alan crane his neck upward. Twenty four cubits, yes: that was exactly their height. Chris Alan smiled to himself at just how quickly and naturally his Gift of Perspective had given him that information.

“This place looks like something from the First Realm; none of our technology was used to build it,” Slate muttered as both Chris Alan and Autumn looked at him in surprise. “What, I read a little, O.K.?”

Chris Alan smiled. “You just keep on doing that, Slate.” As intelligent as Slate actually was, his strength wasn’t in book learning, but everyone profited from reading.

“We have to stay here?” Autumn looked a bit disappointed.

 “As long as Toa says I must,” Chris Alan replied. “Rafael, what can you tell us about this place?”

Rafael did a quick scan of the building and its immediate area. “Although it does not have our modern comforts,” he replied at last, “it will sustain life readily. It has beds, clothes and a stock of preserved food.”

“Four-thousand-year-old food?” Autumn eyeballed Chris Alan skeptically.

“Well, obviously this place used *some* technology – and preserved food is better than no food at all.” Chris Alan smiled again, this time from his knowledge of personality types and how they reacted to various conditions.

“Then *you* eat it; *I’m* going to raid the surrounding fruit trees.”

“This place has fruit trees?”

“Yes, silly. Sometimes, dearest, you really have a hard time seeing the forest for the trees – or in this case, seeing the fruit,” she added with a wink to soften the comment. “Come on, Amber, let’s see what we can find. Slate, would you be a dear and find us all some rooms?” Slate nodded. “Great. Catch you later, Alan.”

“Well, you heard the lady,” Chris Alan said as Autumn and Amber headed off. “See what you can find around here.”

“No problem, Captain.” As a one-time “professional wrestler”, Slate knew that Toa’s policy of on-site residence made sense. “I’ll take a look around and call Autumn when everything’s set up.”

“Let’s get down to business, Rafael,” Chris Alan ordered after Slate had gone. “Where’s Toa’s Guardian?”

“Abram Jadewing is inside. I have already awakened him.”

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Chris Alan entered the main training all with Rafael floating behind him. The hall was empty, save for a small metal stove on which a teapot was placed in the center of the room; two tea cups were placed on either side of the stove. Chris Alan could only wonder at what had preserved the setting unchanged – and dust-free – for so many centuries.

Behind the stove was a golden pillar about three cubits in height. On top of the pillar rested a dark green orb: a Guardian in Rest Mode. Chris Alan walked up to it.

“In the name of the Lord of the Realms, Wielder of the Master Sword,” Chris Alan intoned, “I ask you to awaken your master.”

“I obey.” Abram quickly opened his otherspace closet and a figure slowly walked out of the soft light within it; he stretched and gave a mighty yawn.

The Yellow Tribesman was the same height as Chris Alan, but more muscular. He had a bald head, a white goatee, and a very thin moustache that reached his chest. He was dressed in all white, and he carried a Starblade sheathed on his left hip named “The Way of Ten”.

The man rubbed his eyes and smiled at Chris Alan. “Who do we have here?”

“My name is Chris Alan Starbright.” Chris Alan bowed.

Toa remained pleasant-faced. “That is quite close to the Lord’s own name,” he mused.

“The Lord sent me to learn from you.”

“Really? Why would He do that?” Toa circled Chris Alan slowly, inspecting every square fingerbreath of him.

“I am the Undying Singer, the Wielder of the White Hand.”

Toa looked at him with a blank expression and then resumed his slow walk around Chris Alan.

“So *this* is the vessel He has chosen.” Toa seemed to be rambling now.

“Were you expecting something else?”

Toa looked into his eyes, and as he did so, Chris Alan saw something in the Grandmaster’s own brown eyes that he sometimes longed for: inner peace.

“No. I expected the Lord to send, that is all,” Toa said plainly as he sat by the teapot. “Please sit,” he went on as he motioned for Chris Alan to sit across from him.

After Chris Alan was seated, Toa opened the teapot and dropped in two tea bags. “Share some tea with me; it has been a long time since I have had someone to drink with.” He acted as if he either knew without asking just how long he had been asleep – in which case his rapport with Abram, or perhaps with the Lord Himself, was close indeed – or else as if he didn’t know and considered his ignorance irrelevant for the moment. Either way, Chris Alan found Toa’s attitude fascinating.

Chris Alan wasn’t thirsty, but he didn’t want to be rude. Toa waved to Chris Alan and said, “Please do me the honor of warming the pot.” Chris Alan complied by lighting his hands and bringing the tea to a boil. Toa poured two cups and began to sip his, then nodded that Chris Alan should do the same. Chris Alan took up the cup and sipped. Surprisingly, the tea was both fruity and sweet.

“This is good tea,” Chris Alan commented, not being sure what else to say.

“Do you truly wish to do this?”

“Drink tea?”

“No, train under me.”

“Yes, very much so…*Master*.” Chris Alan purposely used the Eastern term *Sifu*, rather than the very rough Adamic equivalent *Adoni* used in Krav Maga. Toa smiled at the respectful gesture.

“You remember how you warmed this tea?” Toa asked.

“Of course; I used the Light.”

Toa nodded and rested his cup on the floor. “If you agree to be my student, the power of the White Hand will leave you for three months. Are you willing to bear this?” Toa again gave him the blank expression.

Chris Alan thought about it for some minutes. “What would that entail?” he asked at last.

“It would mean you would lose all the physical benefits of that power, including speed, strength, agility, and healing. Only the spiritual protection from evil that your mind now enjoys would remain.”

“In all respects, I would become fully Adami?” Chris Alan wore a very serious face.

“Yes – and that would include the *mortality* of an Adami. You will feel all the pain of my training undiluted. As the Lord emptied Himself and walked the path of an insect to learn obedience, so must you.”

“The Lord *died* at the end of His ministry.” Chris Alan twitched a bit.

“In a manner of speaking, so will you. The Chris Alan Starbright that now is will vanish, but the first flowering of a true Grandmaster will appear in his place.” Toa stood up and smiled.

“There aren’t many benefits in this, are there?” Chris Alan also rose.

“Quite the contrary: you will become greater than you are, plus…” Toa paused as if checking with a higher authority before he spoke.

“Plus what?”

Toa took a deep breath. “I suppose you would find out anyway, being who you are; but during your three-month stay here, it will possible for you to have a child if you so wish.” Toa said this as if testing him.

Chris Alan froze on the spot; he knew Toa could not and would not lie, especially about such a serious matter. Toa must have gotten a feel for him by now, and probably knew how strong his desire for a family was.

“You see, if you humble yourself and become as a child while you are my student, the Lord is well able to reward you in many ways. As I said, you would be Adami for all intents and purposes; why would not your body function in a normal Adami way?”

“You have more to tell me?” What Toa said sounded logical, but Chris Alan sensed a punch line.

Toa took another breath. “It comes with a price: one you may not be willing to bear.” Toa became blank again.

“Tell me, please; allow me to make this decision for myself.”

“Very well. If you choose to have a child while here, the offspring will be neutral, spiritually speaking: inclined neither to good nor evil. It will not be a Lightchild, but it would have the potential to become one if it so chooses: maybe a Lightchild greater than *yourself*.”

Chris Alan couldn’t restrain his curiosity if he tried. No one had ever been able to suppress his need for congruence – not even the Lord Who had made him what he was.

“How is that possible, *Sifu*? The Lord Himself told me in Person that no Lightchild like me had ever been, and none like me would ever come again.”

Toa nodded thoughtfully. “Draw for me, Chris Alan.”

Chris Alan nodded. Toa’s request was the traditional one used to ask another Lightchild to reveal his innermost self through the drawing of a glyph representing that self. On a clear pane of force created by Rafael, Chris Alan (using his right index finger) drew the glyph that had been appearing in his dreams since he became a Lightchild: the sinuous curves, the precisely placed dots, the overall sense of symmetry and stability combined with movement.

Toa nodded again; the glyph had told him much. “Truly, you are something that even I am not, yet which the Lord foresaw. You are the Catalyst: forever changing others, forever unchanged yourself, yet forever becoming more than you are. So shall you remain as a Grandmaster; the quality will set you apart from all others. But tell me, Chris Alan: which is greater, the catalyst, or the chemist who uses it?”

“The chemist,” Chris Alan replied without hesitation as the glyph faded and the pane vanished.

“It is so even in the Lord’s work through the Adamim. Some must direct the process; some must make the process possible. You are the latter and always will be. But your child may well become the former.”

“Then you’re saying it would become the Chemist.”

“Its glyph and its Gifts would reveal it as such unmistakably, yes.”

Toa paused, but Chris Alan did not interrupt further, as much from respect as from being lost in thought.

“The child would be opposite in sex to you, which means it would be female.” Toa paused again, but Chris Alan remained silent. “Finally, instead of losing the White Hand for three months, you would lose it for nine. The child would wield the White Hand for her own protection until she is born. After that, the White Hand would return to you; and until she is born, you will not be able to call on the White Hand if you get even one finger beyond fifty cubits of her. In all other respects, you will be an ordinary Adami for nine months – as will your wife, for that matter. Not even her natural Enoshi immortality in the flesh will be available to her.” Chris Alan started at this; Toa’s passing statement implied that his Gift of Prophecy was profound indeed. “All of the burden will be born by her, and all of the attacks will be aimed at her. I ask you, can you and she bear this?”

Chris Alan paused and thought. “I can be your student, yes. The other question, I’ll have to think about deeply in prayer – and I’ll have to ask my wife about it.”

“Honesty is good. We begin tomorrow; remember that no more Light will be coming your way, starting now.”

“I understand, *Sifu*.” Chris Alan bowed and went upstairs, leaving Toa to sit alone.

When he and Rafael had passed from Toa’s sight on the stairwell, Chris Alan raised his right hand and tried to make it shine. Nothing happened. < So it really is gone, > he thought. < I could feel my Gifting being withdrawn even as Toa spoke – and this just confirms it. >

Soon Chris Alan came to the room that Slate had picked for him and his wife. Autumn was decorating it with what little was there; Amber was flying around in Alpha Mode assisting her. Chris Alan watched her for a bit, afraid to enter the room.

She looked so beautiful, now more than ever. He wanted to lay with her that night, but part of him was afraid to do so.

Could he do it? Yes, and they would have a daughter in due time – but the Realms would be without the White Hand for nine months. Nicholas and other evil beings could do much in that short time; and worst of all, Autumn rather than he would become their target.

Chris Alan felt like weeping. He knew he could take most of what the forces of Darkness could toss at him – but how could he ask Autumn to do the same? She was a strong, if sensitive young woman, but her own powers as a Lightchild had yet to fully awaken – and even those would be withdrawn until their child was born. Their child would wield the White Hand meanwhile, but only if it sensed it was in danger. What would happen in such as case? Would the child somehow protect itself and leave one or both parents exposed?

Chris Alan chided himself for being silly; the Light of the Lord would protect them all well enough. He needed to focus on that – and he needed to give Autumn the benefit of the doubt.

Naturally, this was a combination of attitudes that his brand of Adami nature found very difficult to accept.