11-26-2017, 06:27 PM
(This post was last modified: 12-29-2017, 02:08 PM by The Vision.)
Dongja trudged along the gravelly path, still getting used to not wearing shoes. It simultaneously made sense and was completely ridiculous. To feel like there were fingers on his feet meant that shoes would just restrain them. He'd feel trapped. And plus, the soles of his feet were callused enough that this didn't hurt. But still. Now they were all dirty. In hindsight, this explained a lot about Ogong's hygiene standards.
"So, you've caught up with some of the conjurations of basic elements," Master Millet nodded, "Fire, Wind, Lightning, Stone... Even learned how to represent parts of your body. You learned some of the non-human body parts yet?"
"Um, sorry?"
"Like wings. Or tails. Well, I guess you already have a tail. How about giant teeth?"
"Giant wha- Erm, I mean, no, Master."
Master Millet raised his eyebrows.
"Sorry."
Master Millet turned away. Yeo-Ee-Pil snickered.
"A winged monkey. Now, that's a funny concept."
Master Millet ignored the staff. "How about altering forces of physics?"
Dongja turned to Master Millet. "You can do that?"
"Of course. You thought all we ever did was summon things?" Master Millet scoffed. "I mean, wouldn't we call ourselves summoners, not sorcerers?"
"Is that what you're gonna teach me?" Dongja mumbled.
"Oh, God, no. I'm going to teach you how to control your magic better, so that when we put you back in your regular body, you don't nuke the world again."
"That was Ogong, though," Dongja sighed, "Not me."
Master Millet paused, then nodded.
"Right."
Master Millet stopped in front of the one house in Dalaran that Dongja actually thought was familiar. There was even a front gate with handles that he knew from home. He thought he could see the traditional roof tiling over the cobblestone wall.
"Welcome to my crib," Master Millet said, swinging open the large wooden gate.
Master Millet sighed.
"One more time."
Dongja dusted off his clothes, leaning slightly on a nearby pillar. He was standing in the courtyard of Master Millet's house, around which the entire house was built. It was the most logical place for training. But Dongja couldn't help but want to practice in the warm interior of the house.
He focused his mind on the task at hand, and began to imagine what it was like to be dragged on Ogong's adventures, every time Sam-Jang pulled him by the ear to motivate him to do something, or all the times he was yanked off his feet by whoever was attacking the gang this time. He imagined the sensation of pulling on a locked door. He imagined pulling a rope, wishing he had Ogong's strength.
Dongja snapped open his eyes, concentrating on the small boulder ahead of him.
"Pull! Lahp!"
He felt his mind gripping on the boulder for a moment, but before he could cheer, something yanked Dongja by his collar and flung him to the other end of the courtyard. The hood on his hoodie, which had once survived an ethereal fist ripping through a boulder, finally fell off in tatters.
As Dongja groaned to his feet, Master Millet pursed his lips.
"Again."
Unlike the coarse wooden pillars and beams that held the roof up, which seemed so old and withered that you could probably get a splinter the size of a tooth just from running your hands along them, the deck was made of smoothed, cool, lacquered wooden planks. Dongja restrained himself from thinking about that, lest it bring attention to the horrible situation.
The boy sorcerer was now in the middle of a handstand, balancing a cup of tea on each foot. His sweat was dropping to the gravel below, forming a splotchy area of wet dirt directly below Dongja's dripping brow. Even in his extremely strong friend's body, this was strenuous. Especially since the cups on tea on the soles of his feet were quite hot. Since it was winter, Master Millet thought it best to form a miniature sun over the courtyard to keep things warm.
Dongja was to maintain this uncomfortable position all day. As entertainment, he decided to watch the sun as it dipped down then back up again in a strange, upside-down arc. Fortunately, Master Millet's courtyard was breezy, despite it being completely enclosed by the somehow already ancient roof tiles that seemed seconds from simply sliding off the roof.
"Um, Master Millet?" Dongja shouted, "How does this help my training?"
"This is a strange world, Dongja," Master Millet shouted back, stopping to sip his tea, "With strange cultural concepts of 'entertaining.' Omni really likes excitement and action. Not exclusively, obviously. But, I mean, he probably wasn't even watching when we were meditating earlier."
The old man took another sip of his tea, then frowned. He looked at the bottom of the cup. Then he walked over to the kettle that was boiling in a corner of the courtyard, then poured himself another cup. He walked over to Dongja, then replaced the cup on his left foot with the fresh cup.
"And plus, this is actually a pretty important way of understanding the spells I'm about to teach you."
Dongja grit his teeth, nostrils flaring in the effort of maintaining this form. He had already spilled some of the tea, causing scalding liquid to drip down the sides of his legs. And, for some reason, this damn monkey was only ever comfortable wearing sweatpants.
"Keep it up," Master Millet chuckled.
Two weeks had passed, and Dongja had suffered every moment of it. Master Millet seemed to relish in torturing Dongja, and so far, he hadn't learned much. He missed Master Barley, who would actually teach him magic so he could practice it. He wondered if this was what needed to happen to reach the next tier of magic. But Ogong never needed to do this.
Master Millet mumbled once more, "Cold: Neng. Spin: Hwe-Jun."
Frost bloomed once more on the trembling surface of the bath. The water was swirling in a rapid rate. Dongja had been ordered not to be carried along in the current, while also surviving in the bitter, bitter cold. He shivered again, his skin attempting to clench onto the relatively warm cobblestone tub. The monkey was tougher in every way than Dongja, but even Ogong's bones were screaming in agony.
"You got another four minutes in here."
Dongja wanted to scream, but his lungs were too frozen for that. So instead, he just glared into the spinning bath water.
"You got something to say, Dongja?"
"No, Master," Dongja said, lowering his head more and gritting his teeth to stop their chattering.
Master Millet paused for a moment, then left the room.
Dongja scraped the last specks of rice at the bottom of his bowl. His hunched back trembled still after the cold bath. His bottom lip quivered slightly as it felt the scorching heat of the metal bowl. His sore legs sighed in relief at the comfort of sitting on a surprisingly colorful cushion. Yeo-Ee-Pil was currently napping, laid out on the floor.
From the corner of his eye, he noticed Master Millet packing a sack full of books and one set of clothes. Dongja stopped a moment to give him an inquisitive look.
"Are you leaving, Master?" he said in a voice as hushed as possible, just in case.
Master Millet rolled his eyes. "I can't hear you, speak up."
"Are you leaving?" the boy tried again.
"What?"
"I asked if you were leaving."
"Oh. Yeah." Master Millet sniffed disdainfully, then slung the sack over his shoulder. "Forgot to mention. You're too weak to train. Bye."
Yeo-Ee-Pil perked up. "Ah, I see. You're on that-"
"That part, yes," Master Millet interrupted, "Sorry, Master, I have to go."
"I understand. See ya."
The staff slinked away. Dongja frowned.
"What did he mean by 'that part,' Master?"
"Don't call me that anymore, I'm not your master anymore."
Master Millet slid open the paper door and stepped outside. The night air flooded in, filling Dongja with another chill.
"Are you joking?"
"No, I am not. You're a hopeless case."
Master Millet started walking. Dongja tucked his tail back and rose to his feet, rushing out after him.
"But... that makes no sense. After all that, you're just going to leave?"
Master Millet sighed and walked briskly across the courtyard. "What are you gonna do about it?"
Dongja flinched, then he breathed in deep.
"Please, don't go, Master."
"Oh, boo hoo, my master is leaving me," Master Millet groaned, swinging open the large wooden gate, "You need to really learn how to shape up, Dongja."
"But Master, you need to fix me. I don't know how to do it, and you- you-"
"I can't do anything that'll fix your problems, boy," Master Millet sighed, "Leave me alone."
"Don't go!"
Master Millet spun on his heels, forming a small dust cloud at his feet. He glared pure poison at Dongja.
"What. Are you. Going. To do. About it."
Dongja stammered.
"Thought so," Master Millet muttered, then turned to leave.
Dongja pondered over the next course of action. If he were too aggressive, then he'd be stepping out of line. But he couldn't just let him go. Master Millet was his best chance at swapping the bodies safely, or at all.
As Master Millet prepared to turn the corner at the end of the street, Dongja did the unthinkable.
"Pull: Lahp!"
Dongja flew backwards, sliding down the street the opposite direction of Master Millet. The old man turned around and chuckled.
"Cute," he mumbled, then turned again to keep walking.
Dongja's eyes widened.
"Pull! Lahp!"
This time, the character Dongja envisioned etched itself dimly into a ring of glowing arcane energy above his head. It warbled with cosmic force, and Dongja's vision seemed to bend slightly.
Suddenly, Master Millet's collar jerked, and the old man started flying back towards Dongja.
The boy sorcerer squinted as he mumbled, "Wait, really?"
Master Millet spun around mid-air, his own, much wider ring of magic forming above his head. In a quick and jerky motion, a Chinese character appeared in its center.
"Push: Ahp!"
Master Millet landed, skidding on the dirt and catching his footing. Something invisible quivered directly between Dongja and Master Millet. Dongja felt his mind grip at something he couldn't understand. He maintained the magic, realizing that Master Millet was now trying to push back.
The invisible quiver in the air started approaching Dongja. As it did, he felt something resist his thoughts It was difficult to explain. He felt pressure on his thoughts, like what happened every time Master Barley asked him a tough question or the rare moments when Ogong was in trouble and Dongja, in all his ineptitude, had to help.
He thought about the last two weeks, when Master Millet boiled tea on his skin, or dunked him in ice, or removing a pillar in the house and forcing Dongja to replace it.
The man felt a rage boil inside him.
It wasn't right.
He had to fix it.
The quiver suddenly jerked forward, towards Master Millet. Dongja flinched. He could've sworn the old man was smiling.
Before Dongja could process that, Master Millet was once more lifted off his feet and making a beeline for Dongja. Whatever held him in the air seemed to let go in the last moment, forcing Master Millet to once more skid on the dirt path, stopping right in front of the boy sorcerer.
"Finally," the old man panted, "Knew there was a reason Barley kept you around."
Dongja blinked rapidly. "What?"
"Let me explain inside."
Master Millet adjusted his robe, then walked back into the courtyard. Dongja scrunched his face in fury, storming after him.
"What, so this was all a trick?" the boy started shouting, "Are you serious right now? You were just messing around with my head-"
"Yeah, and it worked wonders," Master Millet noted, "You held your own against a master in a magic tug-of-war. Of course, I was going easy on you, but- listen, it makes much more sense once you understand what happened, alright?"
Dongja threw his arms in the air.
"NO! Not alright! You could've- You should've- I felt something press my BRAIN!"
Master Millet suddenly snapped into a new glare, something Dongja hadn't seen since KentucKing* attacked his house back home. And when that happened, Master Millet beat the shit out of that overgrown chicken-man. Master Millet wordlessly crossed his arms, and Dongja bowed his head slightly instinctively.
"Alright, good, you're listening now," Master Millet nodded, "The magic I've been trying to teach you? They're abstract forces. Ogong understood the concept, because he went through extensive training on it. It was clear to me right away that you hadn't. So I did to you what I did to all my students."
"Act like an asshole?" Dongja mumbled under his breath.
"Man, now that you've grown a pair, you don't know when to stop, do you?" Master Millet scoffed, "But yes. Torture. Made them hate me. Intensely. Do you know why?"
Dongja didn't answer.
"Because magic is hard shit, Dongja. When you conjure things, you are simply asking the universe to borrow something. You're not changing too much about it, just putting one thing in a different place. But like I said, magic is more than just conjuring. Sometimes, you gotta change the rules of the universe. And the universe does not like it."
Master Millet set down his bag and sat on the porch, crossing his legs. He gestured to his side. Dongja sat down next to him.
"There's a rule in some of the other worlds, something named after a guy named Newton-"
"That's a weird name."
"I know. But he's apparently a master, in his own way. And he came up with this rule which I quite like. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. You know what that means?"
Dongja shook his head. "Not really."
"Ugh. Okay. Think about what it's like to pull against a really heavy rock. What happens?"
"Doesn't move."
"No, something moves. And that something is you. It's more obvious if you're doing it with a rope. If the rock doesn't move, you start moving towards the rock. How do you fix that?"
"I get stronger?" Dongja attempted.
Master Millet snickered. "You?"
Dongja frowned. "Then what?"
"You dig in, Dongja," Master Millet grunted, leaning in slightly, "You dig your feet into the ground and you hold your weight. You don't let your body get thrown off-balance. See, you may think all those exercises we did was just to torture you, but if you think about it, they were all about holding your ground. Now do you see what Newton's rule means?"
"No."
"It means that when you ask for magic that the cosmos doesn't like, you're pushing a little. And when you push, the cosmos starts pushing back. Not unlike that tug-of-war match we had earlier. And if you're not strong enough, it will push you harder and knock you over. In your case, instead of you pulling the rock, the universe pulled you."
"But that wasn't equal," Dongja noted, "That was way not equal. Whenever I cast the spell, it just tossed me aside."
"It's not a perfect metaphor," Master Millet sighed, "Point is, you have to ground yourself mentally. And how does one do that? You can answer this one, just think about what you felt when we were fighting."
Dongja considered the events. He felt angry. Very, very angry. And scared. Perhaps desperate, maybe? Yes. Yes, desperate for Master Millet to stay and help him. He relayed this to Master Millet.
"Almost," he responded, "You wanted something that someone else didn't want. So you...?"
"Fought for it," Dongja mumbled.
"Exactly," Master Millet nodded, "You can't cast cosmic magic if you're gonna be a pushover. You have to ground yourself."
Yeo-Ee-Pil bent and peeked his head from behind a door. "You guys done?"
Dongja looked at Master Millet, who shrugged. Dongja shrugged as well.
The staff floated out into the courtyard, one end of it turned to Master Millet as one would turn a head. "He understood what you were saying?"
"Almost definitely not."
Dongja looked up at the old man, offended. The magic weapon chuckled.
"He's doing better than you," Yeo-Ee-Pil snickered, "Remember when I did this lesson with you? Did I ever tell you this story, Dongja?"
"Please don't," Master Millet muttered. Dongja almost fell over. He had never seen Master Millet beg before.
Yeo-Ee-Pil ignored him. "So there was this one other student of mine, a girl, right? And Millet is just so in love with her-"
"Master," Millet hissed, "Seriously, don't do this."
"But he's such a big softie, he starts writing her love poems- Oh, hey, you know her! Master Foxtail."
Dongja stifled a laugh. "You had a crush on Master Foxtail**?"
"I guess it had to happen, there were only five students, and they were all going through puberty. You know I taught the Five Grain Masters*** when they were teenagers, right?"
Dongja grinned widely, not even bothering to hide his elation. Master Millet sighed and got up to leave.
"No, come on, don't leave, Millet!" Yeo-Ee-Pil laughed, "Come ooooon, kid's gotta hear some of the lovey-dovey crap you wrote! What was that one about the sweetest plum, huh?"
"Good night," Master Millet snapped, opening the door to his study.
"Wait, Master Millet?" Dongja cried out.
The old dwarf turned around, one eyebrow raised.
"So..." Dongja licked his lips nervously. "So you aren't just going to drop me one day? Because, I uh, don't know anybody here. In the Omniverse, I mean."
"You're my pupil now, Dongja," Master Millet sighed, "For better or for worse."
"It just, it really looked like you were just going to leave."
"You kidding? Why would I leave?" Master Millet snorted, "This is my house."
And with that, Master Millet closed the door.
"So, you've caught up with some of the conjurations of basic elements," Master Millet nodded, "Fire, Wind, Lightning, Stone... Even learned how to represent parts of your body. You learned some of the non-human body parts yet?"
"Um, sorry?"
"Like wings. Or tails. Well, I guess you already have a tail. How about giant teeth?"
"Giant wha- Erm, I mean, no, Master."
Master Millet raised his eyebrows.
"Sorry."
Master Millet turned away. Yeo-Ee-Pil snickered.
"A winged monkey. Now, that's a funny concept."
Master Millet ignored the staff. "How about altering forces of physics?"
Dongja turned to Master Millet. "You can do that?"
"Of course. You thought all we ever did was summon things?" Master Millet scoffed. "I mean, wouldn't we call ourselves summoners, not sorcerers?"
"Is that what you're gonna teach me?" Dongja mumbled.
"Oh, God, no. I'm going to teach you how to control your magic better, so that when we put you back in your regular body, you don't nuke the world again."
"That was Ogong, though," Dongja sighed, "Not me."
Master Millet paused, then nodded.
"Right."
Master Millet stopped in front of the one house in Dalaran that Dongja actually thought was familiar. There was even a front gate with handles that he knew from home. He thought he could see the traditional roof tiling over the cobblestone wall.
"Welcome to my crib," Master Millet said, swinging open the large wooden gate.
Master Millet sighed.
"One more time."
Dongja dusted off his clothes, leaning slightly on a nearby pillar. He was standing in the courtyard of Master Millet's house, around which the entire house was built. It was the most logical place for training. But Dongja couldn't help but want to practice in the warm interior of the house.
He focused his mind on the task at hand, and began to imagine what it was like to be dragged on Ogong's adventures, every time Sam-Jang pulled him by the ear to motivate him to do something, or all the times he was yanked off his feet by whoever was attacking the gang this time. He imagined the sensation of pulling on a locked door. He imagined pulling a rope, wishing he had Ogong's strength.
Dongja snapped open his eyes, concentrating on the small boulder ahead of him.
"Pull! Lahp!"
He felt his mind gripping on the boulder for a moment, but before he could cheer, something yanked Dongja by his collar and flung him to the other end of the courtyard. The hood on his hoodie, which had once survived an ethereal fist ripping through a boulder, finally fell off in tatters.
As Dongja groaned to his feet, Master Millet pursed his lips.
"Again."
Unlike the coarse wooden pillars and beams that held the roof up, which seemed so old and withered that you could probably get a splinter the size of a tooth just from running your hands along them, the deck was made of smoothed, cool, lacquered wooden planks. Dongja restrained himself from thinking about that, lest it bring attention to the horrible situation.
The boy sorcerer was now in the middle of a handstand, balancing a cup of tea on each foot. His sweat was dropping to the gravel below, forming a splotchy area of wet dirt directly below Dongja's dripping brow. Even in his extremely strong friend's body, this was strenuous. Especially since the cups on tea on the soles of his feet were quite hot. Since it was winter, Master Millet thought it best to form a miniature sun over the courtyard to keep things warm.
Dongja was to maintain this uncomfortable position all day. As entertainment, he decided to watch the sun as it dipped down then back up again in a strange, upside-down arc. Fortunately, Master Millet's courtyard was breezy, despite it being completely enclosed by the somehow already ancient roof tiles that seemed seconds from simply sliding off the roof.
"Um, Master Millet?" Dongja shouted, "How does this help my training?"
"This is a strange world, Dongja," Master Millet shouted back, stopping to sip his tea, "With strange cultural concepts of 'entertaining.' Omni really likes excitement and action. Not exclusively, obviously. But, I mean, he probably wasn't even watching when we were meditating earlier."
The old man took another sip of his tea, then frowned. He looked at the bottom of the cup. Then he walked over to the kettle that was boiling in a corner of the courtyard, then poured himself another cup. He walked over to Dongja, then replaced the cup on his left foot with the fresh cup.
"And plus, this is actually a pretty important way of understanding the spells I'm about to teach you."
Dongja grit his teeth, nostrils flaring in the effort of maintaining this form. He had already spilled some of the tea, causing scalding liquid to drip down the sides of his legs. And, for some reason, this damn monkey was only ever comfortable wearing sweatpants.
"Keep it up," Master Millet chuckled.
Two weeks had passed, and Dongja had suffered every moment of it. Master Millet seemed to relish in torturing Dongja, and so far, he hadn't learned much. He missed Master Barley, who would actually teach him magic so he could practice it. He wondered if this was what needed to happen to reach the next tier of magic. But Ogong never needed to do this.
Master Millet mumbled once more, "Cold: Neng. Spin: Hwe-Jun."
Frost bloomed once more on the trembling surface of the bath. The water was swirling in a rapid rate. Dongja had been ordered not to be carried along in the current, while also surviving in the bitter, bitter cold. He shivered again, his skin attempting to clench onto the relatively warm cobblestone tub. The monkey was tougher in every way than Dongja, but even Ogong's bones were screaming in agony.
"You got another four minutes in here."
Dongja wanted to scream, but his lungs were too frozen for that. So instead, he just glared into the spinning bath water.
"You got something to say, Dongja?"
"No, Master," Dongja said, lowering his head more and gritting his teeth to stop their chattering.
Master Millet paused for a moment, then left the room.
Dongja scraped the last specks of rice at the bottom of his bowl. His hunched back trembled still after the cold bath. His bottom lip quivered slightly as it felt the scorching heat of the metal bowl. His sore legs sighed in relief at the comfort of sitting on a surprisingly colorful cushion. Yeo-Ee-Pil was currently napping, laid out on the floor.
From the corner of his eye, he noticed Master Millet packing a sack full of books and one set of clothes. Dongja stopped a moment to give him an inquisitive look.
"Are you leaving, Master?" he said in a voice as hushed as possible, just in case.
Master Millet rolled his eyes. "I can't hear you, speak up."
"Are you leaving?" the boy tried again.
"What?"
"I asked if you were leaving."
"Oh. Yeah." Master Millet sniffed disdainfully, then slung the sack over his shoulder. "Forgot to mention. You're too weak to train. Bye."
Yeo-Ee-Pil perked up. "Ah, I see. You're on that-"
"That part, yes," Master Millet interrupted, "Sorry, Master, I have to go."
"I understand. See ya."
The staff slinked away. Dongja frowned.
"What did he mean by 'that part,' Master?"
"Don't call me that anymore, I'm not your master anymore."
Master Millet slid open the paper door and stepped outside. The night air flooded in, filling Dongja with another chill.
"Are you joking?"
"No, I am not. You're a hopeless case."
Master Millet started walking. Dongja tucked his tail back and rose to his feet, rushing out after him.
"But... that makes no sense. After all that, you're just going to leave?"
Master Millet sighed and walked briskly across the courtyard. "What are you gonna do about it?"
Dongja flinched, then he breathed in deep.
"Please, don't go, Master."
"Oh, boo hoo, my master is leaving me," Master Millet groaned, swinging open the large wooden gate, "You need to really learn how to shape up, Dongja."
"But Master, you need to fix me. I don't know how to do it, and you- you-"
"I can't do anything that'll fix your problems, boy," Master Millet sighed, "Leave me alone."
"Don't go!"
Master Millet spun on his heels, forming a small dust cloud at his feet. He glared pure poison at Dongja.
"What. Are you. Going. To do. About it."
Dongja stammered.
"Thought so," Master Millet muttered, then turned to leave.
Dongja pondered over the next course of action. If he were too aggressive, then he'd be stepping out of line. But he couldn't just let him go. Master Millet was his best chance at swapping the bodies safely, or at all.
As Master Millet prepared to turn the corner at the end of the street, Dongja did the unthinkable.
"Pull: Lahp!"
Dongja flew backwards, sliding down the street the opposite direction of Master Millet. The old man turned around and chuckled.
"Cute," he mumbled, then turned again to keep walking.
Dongja's eyes widened.
"Pull! Lahp!"
This time, the character Dongja envisioned etched itself dimly into a ring of glowing arcane energy above his head. It warbled with cosmic force, and Dongja's vision seemed to bend slightly.
Suddenly, Master Millet's collar jerked, and the old man started flying back towards Dongja.
The boy sorcerer squinted as he mumbled, "Wait, really?"
Master Millet spun around mid-air, his own, much wider ring of magic forming above his head. In a quick and jerky motion, a Chinese character appeared in its center.
"Push: Ahp!"
Master Millet landed, skidding on the dirt and catching his footing. Something invisible quivered directly between Dongja and Master Millet. Dongja felt his mind grip at something he couldn't understand. He maintained the magic, realizing that Master Millet was now trying to push back.
The invisible quiver in the air started approaching Dongja. As it did, he felt something resist his thoughts It was difficult to explain. He felt pressure on his thoughts, like what happened every time Master Barley asked him a tough question or the rare moments when Ogong was in trouble and Dongja, in all his ineptitude, had to help.
He thought about the last two weeks, when Master Millet boiled tea on his skin, or dunked him in ice, or removing a pillar in the house and forcing Dongja to replace it.
The man felt a rage boil inside him.
It wasn't right.
He had to fix it.
The quiver suddenly jerked forward, towards Master Millet. Dongja flinched. He could've sworn the old man was smiling.
Before Dongja could process that, Master Millet was once more lifted off his feet and making a beeline for Dongja. Whatever held him in the air seemed to let go in the last moment, forcing Master Millet to once more skid on the dirt path, stopping right in front of the boy sorcerer.
"Finally," the old man panted, "Knew there was a reason Barley kept you around."
Dongja blinked rapidly. "What?"
"Let me explain inside."
Master Millet adjusted his robe, then walked back into the courtyard. Dongja scrunched his face in fury, storming after him.
"What, so this was all a trick?" the boy started shouting, "Are you serious right now? You were just messing around with my head-"
"Yeah, and it worked wonders," Master Millet noted, "You held your own against a master in a magic tug-of-war. Of course, I was going easy on you, but- listen, it makes much more sense once you understand what happened, alright?"
Dongja threw his arms in the air.
"NO! Not alright! You could've- You should've- I felt something press my BRAIN!"
Master Millet suddenly snapped into a new glare, something Dongja hadn't seen since KentucKing* attacked his house back home. And when that happened, Master Millet beat the shit out of that overgrown chicken-man. Master Millet wordlessly crossed his arms, and Dongja bowed his head slightly instinctively.
"Alright, good, you're listening now," Master Millet nodded, "The magic I've been trying to teach you? They're abstract forces. Ogong understood the concept, because he went through extensive training on it. It was clear to me right away that you hadn't. So I did to you what I did to all my students."
"Act like an asshole?" Dongja mumbled under his breath.
"Man, now that you've grown a pair, you don't know when to stop, do you?" Master Millet scoffed, "But yes. Torture. Made them hate me. Intensely. Do you know why?"
Dongja didn't answer.
"Because magic is hard shit, Dongja. When you conjure things, you are simply asking the universe to borrow something. You're not changing too much about it, just putting one thing in a different place. But like I said, magic is more than just conjuring. Sometimes, you gotta change the rules of the universe. And the universe does not like it."
Master Millet set down his bag and sat on the porch, crossing his legs. He gestured to his side. Dongja sat down next to him.
"There's a rule in some of the other worlds, something named after a guy named Newton-"
"That's a weird name."
"I know. But he's apparently a master, in his own way. And he came up with this rule which I quite like. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. You know what that means?"
Dongja shook his head. "Not really."
"Ugh. Okay. Think about what it's like to pull against a really heavy rock. What happens?"
"Doesn't move."
"No, something moves. And that something is you. It's more obvious if you're doing it with a rope. If the rock doesn't move, you start moving towards the rock. How do you fix that?"
"I get stronger?" Dongja attempted.
Master Millet snickered. "You?"
Dongja frowned. "Then what?"
"You dig in, Dongja," Master Millet grunted, leaning in slightly, "You dig your feet into the ground and you hold your weight. You don't let your body get thrown off-balance. See, you may think all those exercises we did was just to torture you, but if you think about it, they were all about holding your ground. Now do you see what Newton's rule means?"
"No."
"It means that when you ask for magic that the cosmos doesn't like, you're pushing a little. And when you push, the cosmos starts pushing back. Not unlike that tug-of-war match we had earlier. And if you're not strong enough, it will push you harder and knock you over. In your case, instead of you pulling the rock, the universe pulled you."
"But that wasn't equal," Dongja noted, "That was way not equal. Whenever I cast the spell, it just tossed me aside."
"It's not a perfect metaphor," Master Millet sighed, "Point is, you have to ground yourself mentally. And how does one do that? You can answer this one, just think about what you felt when we were fighting."
Dongja considered the events. He felt angry. Very, very angry. And scared. Perhaps desperate, maybe? Yes. Yes, desperate for Master Millet to stay and help him. He relayed this to Master Millet.
"Almost," he responded, "You wanted something that someone else didn't want. So you...?"
"Fought for it," Dongja mumbled.
"Exactly," Master Millet nodded, "You can't cast cosmic magic if you're gonna be a pushover. You have to ground yourself."
Yeo-Ee-Pil bent and peeked his head from behind a door. "You guys done?"
Dongja looked at Master Millet, who shrugged. Dongja shrugged as well.
The staff floated out into the courtyard, one end of it turned to Master Millet as one would turn a head. "He understood what you were saying?"
"Almost definitely not."
Dongja looked up at the old man, offended. The magic weapon chuckled.
"He's doing better than you," Yeo-Ee-Pil snickered, "Remember when I did this lesson with you? Did I ever tell you this story, Dongja?"
"Please don't," Master Millet muttered. Dongja almost fell over. He had never seen Master Millet beg before.
Yeo-Ee-Pil ignored him. "So there was this one other student of mine, a girl, right? And Millet is just so in love with her-"
"Master," Millet hissed, "Seriously, don't do this."
"But he's such a big softie, he starts writing her love poems- Oh, hey, you know her! Master Foxtail."
Dongja stifled a laugh. "You had a crush on Master Foxtail**?"
"I guess it had to happen, there were only five students, and they were all going through puberty. You know I taught the Five Grain Masters*** when they were teenagers, right?"
Dongja grinned widely, not even bothering to hide his elation. Master Millet sighed and got up to leave.
"No, come on, don't leave, Millet!" Yeo-Ee-Pil laughed, "Come ooooon, kid's gotta hear some of the lovey-dovey crap you wrote! What was that one about the sweetest plum, huh?"
"Good night," Master Millet snapped, opening the door to his study.
"Wait, Master Millet?" Dongja cried out.
The old dwarf turned around, one eyebrow raised.
"So..." Dongja licked his lips nervously. "So you aren't just going to drop me one day? Because, I uh, don't know anybody here. In the Omniverse, I mean."
"You're my pupil now, Dongja," Master Millet sighed, "For better or for worse."
"It just, it really looked like you were just going to leave."
"You kidding? Why would I leave?" Master Millet snorted, "This is my house."
And with that, Master Millet closed the door.
Quote:* In the canon Dongja is from, there are twelve highly powerful warriors who formed the Twelve Demon Celestials, based on the Chinese zodiac. The rooster warrior once attacked the main characters, aided by Master Millet's backstabbing student, the newly appointed rabbit warrior (who then switched sides again, weirdly enough). And the rooster was named KentucKing. It sounds like that in Korean, too. Yes, as in KFC. That's right. The demon warrior is named after KFC.
** Master Foxtail Millet, not to be confused with Master Proso Millet. It makes sense in Korean, since Foxtail Millet and Proso Millet have different, simpler words.
*** The five most respected mortals in Dongja's world. Now masters, they are tasked with helping the Heavenly Emperor (basically God) keep the world spinning.
Yeesh, that was long. 8734/7500 words (MS Word).
- Meet the Council of Dalaran
- Be assigned a Master
- Train
- Train some more
- Train even more
- Earn respect of superiors
- Be admitted into Mages' Guild
![[Image: 665000_mcninja_by_cavenglok-dch0qt5.jpg]](https://orig00.deviantart.net/3590/f/2018/193/c/8/665000_mcninja_by_cavenglok-dch0qt5.jpg)
Odd hours. Call for appointment.