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Metis felt his way back into position, moving to stand in just the right spot at just the right distance from the training dummy. The young man’s mind began to wander, largely toward his own nature, and his origins. He’d never met his mother, though he was sure she was around. If she was in fact near him, she’d ignored intuition for years, proven every mother’s raw instinct to be a lie, a thin membrane of human morality to be torn to shreds and dropped at the slightest inconvenience. His father if he was around was probably no better. The man had likely shirked his fatherly duty to be a hero, a role model, a protector, a teacher, a friend and even a rival. Metis had been alone his whole life. Surrounded by people that have cared for him, but all of them too ashamed of being held responsible for his birth that they refused to claim him. The reality of the situation was not something pleasant that most people were willing to talk about in a respectful manner. Most he met either saw fit to coddle him or pity him, talking about his situation right next to him as if he couldn’t hear them. He was blind. Not deaf. And then there were the people who treated him like a manual labor slave. He was very large for his age, very physically strong because of it. Metis hated those individuals. So smug, so happy to walk all over him and act like he should be grateful that they’re only asking such a small list of difficult tasks. Tasks that it would take dozens of grown men to complete. He was a slave in essence… and he knew it. Metis was big, but not stupid. He took notice of all the repetitive and heavy work tasks that he was tasked to do, and how little thanks he received. More-often-than-not, he was complained at and about, and berated as if he couldn’t respond. Treated like he was mute, blind, deaf, and dumb. All of this information had often formed some very dark imagery in his mind.
While he thought about this, Metis readied his shovel sword. He drew his shield. He took the stance, his legs spread just the right amount, his left leg forward, his stronger leg holding him steady from behind. He held himself at the ready and took a few moments to regulate his breathing. He kept his knees bent and his heels ever so slightly off the ground. He hated the reality of his life, and yet, he had a glimmer of hope. Hope that he knew every day without ever being able to see it himself. The knowledge that he was such a giant compared to everyone else. He dwarfed everyone around him, despite not even having reached puberty, or the great time of growing, as one old man he’d met had called it. It was the knowledge of his own size that gave him hope. Because it made the thought occur to him that He might not be the offspring of mortals. He didn’t know what he was, but this line of thought always led him to wonder, was he even a human at all? What if…what if he was a titan? If he was, it would explain his massive size, but at the same time, it would greatly harm his future. The Titan’s were the ancestors of the gods, and the gods were directly responsible for man kind’s coming into being. But The titans were hated by the gods, and so, they were hated and feared by those who worshiped the gods. However, Metis had always been willing to look at all sides of the stories of the people around him. He’d had to do so in order to keep himself from taking his anger at how people treated him out on the people around him. “I don’t like this. I don’t think I will ever be at peace with what I am, or how those closest to me have treated me. But forgiveness is a path to survival.” He then moved very suddenly and slashed the same way he had before, but then he stopped just a hair’s width from hitting the dummy with his blade. Or at least he tried. The weight of his sword wasn’t too much for him, but he ended up hitting the dummy anyway because of the momentum he’d built up. He probably looked like a fool. He’d tried essentially, to do something cool and had screwed up. He took this failure with humility, and that was the only intelligent way to think about it in his mind. He wasn’t ready to pull off such a stunt, and his skills were in great need of polishing. He was still young, and he knew it. He needed to grow up some. To learn more about the world, and experience new places. And so, He moved his sword and shield back to their proper places and put them back on his back. He sighed and backed up from the dummy; thinking about how to proceed. He moved to a bookshelf, feeling his way along looking for a book of jutsu techniques that was written in Brail, and he was very lucky to have found one. The blind were not often thought of when people were creating forms of combat strategies or techniques. He grabbed the book off the shelf and felt his way toward a seat and a desk. He ran his fingers slowly over the carefully ordered dots on the pages, reading their contents in the only way he knew how to. He was astonished that someone had actually went to the effort of translating the instructions on how to learn these basic techniques into the written language of the blind. As he read, he was careful to imagine himself taking the stances, to remember how his own muscles would have to move. He did this to prepare himself for what was to come. The idea of using chakra to climb trees never occurred to him, or even using it to cross bodies of water. But both made sense. The problem was, for him, either would be tricky in the best of times. Never mind in combat. He couldn’t see. But still, He read the book’s pages slowly; making absolutely certain to absorb the information as thoroughly as possible. He would need certainty that he’d remember how to perform these techniques. Even though they’d be difficult for him, they might come in handy for him one day. He also realized, that some day he might be able to use what he learns to make his own jutsu and special techniques. He might be able to use this knowledge to help others too. But If anyone from his clan dared to ask him to use what he learns at this school to harm someone who does not deserve it, he knew he would become angry enough to lash out. And that anger was always present. Even as he sat reading techniques. He stopped after a moment and took a deep calming breath. He sighed and then continued reading. He decided he’d use his patience even more. Find a way to control his temper, and so, find a way to not hurt anyone, except in the cases where battle is unavoidable.
Such times were the only times where anyone should come to grievous harm, and even then, he did not want blood to be spilled without good reasons. He was still a pacifist in his own way, and he had chosen the wrong path if he wanted to remain one. He understood that full well. But still, He’d find a way. He’d become a true warrior, and he’d protect those who needed protection, and perhaps, he’d find the answers he’d always sought. After several moments of reading, Metis finally managed to finish the book, and after a few attempts, managed to put it back where he got it from. He bowed his head to the teachers and then felt his way to the door before leaving. He didn’t really know where he was going to go now, though home would likely be wise. He had yet to go to very many places, and so, did not know the terrain for very many of the roads either. He barely knew this one. Hopefully, He’d find his way home. [Exit to docks]
[Words in Post: 1406]
[Total words in Academy: 2050]
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