The front door opened quietly, letting in Baldur and Max, who walked in silently.
"Finally, you're here..." said Gouten from the sofa, without taking his eyes off the TV.
"I disinfected the wound like you taught me, Mr. Baldur," announced Oliver from the kitchen, showing them his bandaged hand. I bandaged it myself.
"Wow..." Baldur murmured, surprised. "That's a good bandage, really. Very similar to the ones I do."
"Ha, ha... I learned it from you," Oliver replied with a slight smile. A smile that, to anyone who knew him, was not entirely genuine.
Baldur noticed it immediately. He growled under his breath, as if something inside him was stirring. He stood still, not quite sure what to say or do to comfort the boy.
"What do you want to eat, Oliver?" Baldur asked, addressing him directly.
"Ramen sounds good..." Gouten interjected, raising an eyebrow to gauge Baldur's reaction.
"I spoke to Oliver," Baldur replied, without even looking at him.
"I don't know... something that doesn't require plates or bowls..." Oliver replied casually.
"Pizza it is, then," Baldur decided, with a slight smile.
"Perfect," Oliver replied, letting out a sincere smile.
<
"It's always the same story! They give you a choice and you never make up your mind!" complained Gouten, waving his hands in the air. "I wanted ramen with lots of pork!"
"Could you lower your voice?" Max asked, visibly annoyed by the commotion. "Today Oliver chooses and you shut up... Tomorrow it's your turn."
"Fine..." Gouten snorted, crossing his arms.
"Well... I'll get my things and go buy the ingredients for..." said Baldur as he looked for his coat.
"Wait a minute, Mr. Baldur... before you leave," Max interrupted him with unusual calm. His tone sounded calm, almost apologetic, and his gaze reflected a restrained sadness. Oliver and Gouten watched him curiously.
"Oliver, Gouten..." he said, facing them. "I won't be training you anymore."
"What!?" Gouten exclaimed, almost jumping out of his chair, while Oliver simply stared at him silently, showing no emotion.
"From now on... you will be trained by Baldur."
Oliver's eyes widened in surprise.
"Mr. Baldur? I thought Max was going to give up and leave us as failures... but no... a change of teacher?" he thought, astonished, as he looked at the old man, who smiled calmly at him.
"Mr. Baldur?" said Gouten, confused, before nodding thoughtfully. It makes sense... after all, he's the owner of the dojo and he beat you, Max..."
"What did you say, brat?!" Max roared, giving him a slap on the head. "Just because he beat me doesn't give you the right to talk to me like that!"
"Ouch!" Gouten complained, rubbing his head. "Master, he hit me!" he said, pointing at Max and giving Baldur an accusing look. "Say something to him!"
Baldur gave Max a thumbs up and smiled. "Well done."
"I promise to be a good teacher," said Baldur with a slight smile as he picked up some bags from the kitchen and walked toward the front door. I'll teach you as much as I can and... I don't know what else to say. I've never been a teacher before."
"Huh?" Oliver and Gouten exclaimed in unison, surprised.
"Then why do you own this dojo?" Oliver asked, raising an eyebrow.
"It's a tradition in the Elementary Schools," explained Baldur as he slung one of the bags over his shoulder. "The dojo always passes to the Pillar chosen to represent each element."
"I don't understand any of that..." commented Gouten as they watched Baldur walk out the door and leave.
<
The next morning, Oliver and Gouten were standing in their usual spot, waiting for Max... until they both slapped their faces with their palms.
"How could we forget that Mr. Baldur is now our teacher?" wondered Gouten, walking toward the house.
"I think we should call him 'teacher' now... After all, that's what he is," replied Oliver, following him.
"Teacher Baldur... that sounds great," said Gouten, thoughtfully. Why didn't we call Max 'teacher'?
"Teacher Max," Oliver repeated aloud.
"Let's not say that again," said Gouten, wrinkling his nose. "It sounds awful... Just 'Max' is much better."
The two boys arrived at the front yard of the main house, theorizing about what it would be like to train under Baldur's tutelage. As they approached, they found him sitting on an old wooden bench, staring blankly at the roads leading to the city.
"Good morning, boys," said Baldur, standing up when he saw them arrive.
"Good morning, Master..." they replied in unison.
The old man, although he did not show it openly, felt a slight warmth in his heart when he heard that title. An almost imperceptible smile lit up his face.
"What are we going to do today?" asked Oliver, with a mixture of curiosity and enthusiasm in his voice.
"Are we going to run 3,000 laps around the house?" added Gouten, putting his hands behind his head.
"No..." replied Baldur calmly. My training will be different from what you've known...
Upon hearing those words, both Oliver and Gouten exchanged a look of curiosity and intrigue.
"Let's see... tell me something," said Baldur, tilting his head slightly to observe them. What do you understand by discipline?..."
"Eh... it's what Max taught us," replied Gouten thoughtfully, almost scratching his head. "Let's see... it was something like this: train until you're exhausted, don't complain, respect your superior, and... become strong..."
Baldur nodded calmly before replying.
"That's right... that is the path of Senkayne discipline," he said, his voice calm but firm. "Not so different from human military discipline: strict, based on obedience, order, and hierarchy."
Then he paused slightly, looking at them both.
"What I will teach you respects those principles... but it is ten times more flexible. It does not seek to turn you into mere soldiers, but into people capable of strengthening and adapting themselves, without losing themselves along the way."
"Are you going to teach us...?" Gouten murmured, raising an eyebrow.
"I am going to teach you martial arts," Baldur confirmed calmly. "Karate, to be more precise... and perhaps a little Jiu-jitsu."
He closed his eyes for a moment before continuing.
"But my real purpose now is to help you get started on this path, so you understand that it's not just a way to fight... it's much more than that. It's an art, a language to express yourself, a discipline that strengthens both body and spirit."
He opened his eyes, looking at them serenely.
"If you understand it that way, you won't just be better warriors... you'll be better people."
At those words, Oliver's eyes lit up. The idea of going beyond simple fighting to embark on a spiritual path intrigued and excited him in equal measure.
"Sounds great!" exclaimed Gouten, enthusiastically at first... only to change his attitude almost instantly. "I lied! This is boring!" he complained, sitting on a felled log while watching Oliver and Baldur, both motionless on other logs.
"Close your eyes, relax your body, breathe... and look for it," Baldur said calmly, sensing that Oliver was following his every word to the letter.
"And what are we supposed to find, master?" Oliver asked in a whisper, without opening his eyes.
"You'll know when you find it," Baldur replied, almost enigmatically. Let your body flow with your inner calm... and you will see what you are looking for.
"It sounds absurd... and contradictory," Gouten commented, almost snorting. "What if I don't look for anything?"
"Then you won't find anything," Baldur replied instantly, without opening his eyes.
—Aun no entiendo del todo esto de "buscar algo" que ni siquiera sabemos qué es… —pensó Oliver, con los ojos cerrados y una leve arruga en la frente—.
What could it be? Sitting here, not knowing what to do, doesn't seem to help me at all.
Despite my doubts, I couldn't help but feel that this teaching was different from Max's. Here, it wasn't just about muscles or speed... here, there seemed to be something bigger, something that went beyond simply striking or resisting.
"This is different..." he said to himself, with an unfamiliar calmness in his heart. "I feel that what Baldur will show us... is much greater than I can imagine."
"Uh?" Oliver murmured, opening his eyes in the darkness. He found himself in absolute emptiness, where neither sound nor human form existed, only the black immensity around him. Fear and doubt quickly overwhelmed him.
Suddenly, two flashes illuminated his face. Looking up, he discovered two spheres floating in front of him: one bright and golden, the other an almost supernatural white.
"What... what the hell are you?" Oliver muttered, reaching out toward the white sphere. But when it sensed his fingers approaching, it simply moved back, gently dodging him.
Intrigued, he reached out toward the golden sphere, but it also seemed to respond with the same evasive attitude.
"What are you...?" he wondered, his voice trembling slightly.
Instantly, Oliver's eyes flew open, bringing him back to the present. His heart was beating fast, as if he had just awakened from a dream he couldn't quite name.
"Is that... what I'm supposed to find?" he muttered to himself, almost breathless.
Slowly, he raised the hand with which he had tried to touch those spheres of light. He gazed at it silently, with a mixture of disbelief and reverence, as if he were discovering that this very hand could become a bridge to something unknown.
He closed his fingers gently, feeling a slight tingling in his palm, as if some kind of intangible warmth had been imprinted on it.
"What does it mean?" he wondered aloud, as calmness returned.