Chapter 2: Feelings Gone Amiss

	Mike and Miguel soon made it to the woods for their day of training. “Okay, I know I’ve done a bit of sword practice with you,” Miguel said as they walked. “But you’re not always going to be facing opponents that have swords, so you’re in for a bit of a treat.” Mike stayed silent as they walked, listening to what his uncle had to say, but not entirely there. Miguel noticed and looked concerned. “You okay?” he asked. Mike looked at him and shook his head. “S-Sorry about that,” he said. “I”m fine.” Miguel gave a small nod. “Today, I’m going to be acting as multiple kinds of enemies. I’ll first work on your reflexes in hand-to-hand combat, and maybe a bit on your resilience to magic. Magic isn’t just something you can shrug off. Get hit with a heavy spell and you’re likely gonna hurt for a long time. Or you may not feel anything again...” the last part he muttered under his breath, but Mike heard it. “So what you’re saying is that I should work on my endurance to pain while you char me to bits,” he remarked, to which Miguel sweatdropped. “U-um, no,” he answered. “Before we do that, I’m going to cast a protection spell. The pain you feel won’t be real, but it’ll seem real. Make sense?” Mike shook his head. “W-well, you’ll get it when we start. And really it’s more of working on your agility, not how much pain you can take.” Mike just looked at the ground and sighed at that. “Can’t I just work on the guard spell Grampa taught me?” he asked. “That’s not enough,” Miguel said. “That is a good spell for defending against a lot of magic, but there’s magic out there that is unblockable and will kill you. I had a taste of that once...” he added, looking toward the ground and staring with a little bit of sadness on his face. Mike had heard that story and knew exactly what he was talking about. Chris and Inferno used to talk about it all the time. It was supposed to be the Pearson curse to have some sort of evil blood run along with their own. Miguel’s had consumed him and almost caused him to destroy the world. “Um...uncle?” Mike said, hoping to get Miguel’s head out of those memories and back to the now. Miguel shook his head and looked at Mike. “Eheh...sorry,” he chuckled. “Bad memories are hard to put away. So like I said before, you have a treat coming your way today. You get to see your old man’s brother use his vital weapons.” Mike tilted his head. “I’ve seen you use those a bunch of times,” he said. “Yeah, but have you ever felt one rush by your head? Like this?” Miguel asked, quickly grabbing his right tonfa, Justice, and swinging it above Mike, barely missing. Mike felt a powerful breeze rush past the top of his head, the tuft up top flapping in the sudden breeze. “N-no, I haven’t,” he said. Miguel nodded and said, “Well then, get your sword ready and let’s begin the melee practice.”

	Very soon, Mike had his sword Blade Edge, passed down from his father Chris, passed down to him by Mike’s grandfather John, out of its sheath and into his hands. There were about 10 paces between the dragon fox and his uncle. “Ready when you are,” Miguel said. “You make the first move.” Mike shifted a little to his usual fighting stance: feet shoulder width apart, holding Blade Edge in both his paws with extended arms in a sort of defensive stance. A battle tested stance, however simple, yet enough to engage in his opponent. He took a deep breath and charged.

	Like always, hand-to-hand training was brutal. There were very few fighters in the family that could match Miguel’s speed, Miguel’s brothers included. And judging from the fact that Chris and Inferno had that much more experience than their son, Mike would’ve had no chance if he had been battling Miguel for real. Definitely, it was much easier fighting Miguel when he wasn’t in his comfort zone. But as long as Miguel had his weapon style going, Mike would, more times than he could count, miss his mark and be on the receiving end of a heavy and painful blow. He could tell that Miguel was even holding back, but even still, he was going to be sore the next day. After about an hour of this, Miguel stopped the training. “Take a breather, chico,” Miguel said. “You’ve earned it.” Mike, breathing heavily, went and sat on a nearby log, later joined by Miguel. “You’re hardly breaking a sweat,” Mike panted, noting how Miguel’s fur was significantly dry. “Nah, that’s just because I’m like the wind,” Miguel said. “I move fast enough that the wind carries it away. See, look at my paws.” He showed Mike his actually really sweaty palms. “Getting to my speed takes a lot of training, a lot of vigilance, and you really have to be willing to feel pain.” Mike stared at him before asking, “You mean it’s painful to move as fast as you?” Miguel let out a hearty laugh. “No, but if you move at the speed I do and miscalculate dodging time, you’ll be in for a world of hurt even if the guy barely touches you,” he said. “Th-that’s good to hear,” Mike rolled his eyes. Miguel gave Mike a small flask of water, which was downed in less than ten seconds. “Okay, I’m ready for the agility training,” he said. Miguel nodded and practically disappeared for a moment before throwing an acorn at Mike from a tree across the clearing they had found. Damn, he’s so fast, Mike thought when he saw where the acorn came from. 

	“You didn’t expect a magic user to fight on even ground, did you?” Miguel asked, his question receiving a quick shake of the head as no. “Good, because they don’t fight fairly. Because they’re magic users, they don’t spend much time on pain tolerance. Unlike you and me, they’ll take whatever advantage necessary to get an upper hand. Granted, I know only a couple spells, so you’ll get the hang of dodging them rather quickly. First, I want you to hold still.” Mike did as he was told, allowing Miguel to start chanting a small spell. Miguel released his magic, it whirling at Mike as a nice relaxing breeze. This was the spell that would keep Mike from actually being harmed, even though the pain would feel real and even look like he was being injured. “All right,” Miguel said. “Your goal, if you’d please pick up your weapon, is to charge at me while avoiding what I throw at you. These will be fireballs and powerful winds that would normally slice you up without that protection spell. I’ll wait until you’ve picked up your weapon before the challenge begins.” Mike looked over at Blade Edge and reached for it, throwing his paw back quickly as a fireball zipped right between his paw and the sword and charring a spot on the log. He gasped and looked at Miguel a little angrily. “Don’t give me that look!” Miguel shouted, which he really had been shouting since he was clear across the clearing. “I told you that magic users will use any advantage, whether that’s keeping you from your blade or waiting for your back to be turned!” Mike growled a little, feeling a small sensation in his person, something he had never felt before, almost like a hatred except more toward malice, but he shrugged it off and reached once more for the sword. He grabbed it swiftly, bringing his attention toward his uncle. Suddenly, he felt as though a thousand blades had just ripped through him, causing him to burst with blood (as per the spell, it would look and feel like he was injured without really causing harm), shout in pain and double down to his knee. Miguel was definitely not letting up this time. He looked up at the tree and his eyes widened as a fireball was aimed straight for his head. With great effort, he managed to roll out of the way, stand up, and begin his run, thus marking the actual beginning of the challenge.

	A couple of times in the beginning, he took fireball blasts and blasts of wind, slowing his movement, but he put the apparent pain in the back of his mind, focusing solely on dodging the attacks and then making another move. However, the closer Mike got, the faster Miguel seemed to be using his magic. This started to peeve Mike and the feeling rose again. Miguel just continued to attack, waiting for Mike to reach him. Mike tried picking up speed while under the barrage and once he got close, he leapt in the air with his sword held high. Miguel simply smirked as they nearly got face to face and dodged, nearly disappearing again and appearing at the log while Mike got hung up in the tree. “Gotta watch your surroundings, kiddo!” Miguel called from the log, using the wind blast to whap Mike’s butt. Mike went wide-eyed as the blast stung across his rump and he fell out of the tree. Once Mike stood back up, he just stood there, his back to Miguel. Miguel frowned. “Mike, your opponent is over here!” he called. Mike slowly turned around, his demeanor completely changed. Now, his eyes had gone nearly completely red, he stood hunched over, and his grip became intensely tight. He charged at Miguel, who had gone wide-eyed at his nephew’s sudden change of pace. Mike made his way fast, growling and seething, swinging his sword with a sudden intent to kill. All Miguel could do was dodge now, trying to avoid fighting with him. Suddenly, Mike’s eyes went back to normal, he let out a sharp gasp of pain, then everything went dark.