Spirito moved swiftly through the hallways, attempting to avoid all-out running. His sandals, normally slapping loudly in the enormous hall, today blended into the cacophony of noise from the crowded space. 

If he stopped to catch his breath, he wouldn’t reach his seat before the Doha arrived, which would be unseemly. He couldn’t believe he’d overslept. And the classrooms were waves of spilling students, some lingering to chat, and others moving about like tree sap sludge rolling down the length of the hallway.

While he worried about being late to Sune’s class, his mind was worried he might not truly qualify, and that Doha Aliq was offering him something he was not likely to understand or be able to grasp. The paths to this study sounded difficult. The first lessons he took from the initial class were strategy-based and he almost captured the concepts of learning and identifying conflicts, maintaining and disrupting them, and learning to use peace as a power. That last one was still a little sketchy. Still, deep down, he considered what Doha Aliq offered him was not something he was likely to use regularly as a protectorate. But in his thoughts, he could understand the idea of achieving peace might make sense and be important. Goodness knows he’d heard Shasis angry enough about politics to need some way to resolve conflicts. 

More importantly, just the idea of learning in the areas of Sune and Cen, to seek peace and spirit, pulled at him. There was a strong sense of connection for him. And if he didn’t get there, he was going to miss the opening remarks. 

Jumping, he scanned the direction over the taller students and caught sight of the classroom entrance. The door was still open. Dashing around a student who was strolling forward, he gave a quick look back and voiced an ‘Excuse me.’ The kid, startled, lifted his muzzle in a sort of ‘no worries’, but in a blink, his eyes widened and shifted to look beyond Spirito. 

‘Oof’ Spirito gasped as he hit solid bulk. He plowed into the body of an enormous older boy who stepped away from his group and blocked his way. Spirito apologized, saying, “Wow, I’m so sorry,” but he was cut off.

“You stupid little shit.” The larger boy growled. His meaty paw grabbed Spirito by the shirt collar and jerked him toward a wall. His notepad and tablet were knocked out of his arm. He immediately let the tension of supporting himself in his body relax. He’d learned from a top martial artist, after all. When someone has you in their grasp, slow them down and make them work. He wasn’t a tiny 9-year-old boy by any means. His body was heavy with muscle and strong bones. His collapse made the taller kid grunt and he practically needed to pick him up. As the grip on his shirt slipped from his dead weight, the boy holding him lifted his other hand to latch onto the other side of his shirt. 

Spirito quickly lifted his paws high and slammed them down on the forearms of the boy. They let him go instantly. When he dropped to the floor, he ducked down and knew four boys had semi-surrounded him. He heard one say, ‘Kick the baby protector, take him out.”

And instantly, he knew he needed to escape. This wasn’t some sore loser he’d bumped into and ticked off. This was a direct attack. Shasis was clear this might happen. Someone had found out who he was. More than one foot swung his way. The first of them landed a solid kick to his stomach. He grunted and gagged at the instant pain. Dodging a repeat attempt, he came close to getting hit in the face. Instead, he caught the foot coming his way and, lifting with a hard twist, he lunged toward the kicker. This attacker, also an older boy, lost his balance and fell backward onto the ground. Spirito swiftly created a hole in the trap.

Sprinting away, he stepped over the boy he’d flipped over and, with purpose, rushed through the opening. He heard the snap of a bone and a high screaming cry but didn’t stop. He was already gone. His run was brief, as he was only shooting for his classroom. 

He practically fell through the doorway, his paw catching the edge to pitch him inward. The students inside veered their gaze to look at him curiously. He straightened up and went to the back of the room. His quick glance didn’t see Me-ume. Normally, he would try and sit near her since the desks were not assigned. Finding an empty one, he slid into it and pressed his paw against his side to hold back the throbbing. He was relatively sure nothing was broken, but that knowledge didn’t reduce the ache. He began breathing in and out through the pain. A kick caught him at such an angle that the giver was using his toe. 

He kept his eyes on the entrance and waited. But nobody followed. Nobody even looked inward to check and see where he was located. His anxiety was acute as he waited. He broke that guy’s arm. He’d known it snapped. He realized that his chances of remaining unnoticed as a future protectorate were no longer possible. He was a target. 

A different instructor than before moved into the room, his robes pale yellow trim within the darker yellow folds. It was not Doha Aliq’s dual colors, but Spirito sought the belt to discern how many parallel vertical lines crossed over the sideways S. That task of rank was becoming a habit for him. The distance was too far, and the man held objects in his paws that obstructed his belt. Spirito checked him out openly and found the new instructor was whip-thin, but more fit trim than his size resembled. He had muscles in his arms. He moved smoothly, with composure, and the room quieted. With three entire weeks enrolled and being around multiple Doha instructors, Spirito made an educated guess to say this one was probably a third-level Sune master. He reminded Spirito of Doha Aliq in some ways.

Doha placed his items on the side table, then smiled and observed the students. “I am Doha Ribid. Welcome to the second class of Introductory Sune Training, the Acceptance of Peace and the Study of Striving to Reach It.” The Doha glanced around and then pointed to the items he’d put on the table. “Did someone drop this in the hallway?” 

Spirito swallowed a lump in his throat as he recognized his lost tablet and his notepad. He held up his paw.

Doha Ribid gave him a direct gaze and tilted his head to the table. “Please come get them.”

Slowly, he stood and walked forward. He tried to hide his already stiffening body. The Doha’s piercing eyes told him he was unsuccessful. When he returned to his desk, he sat down heavily and blinked to see through the lancing ache of his ribs. 

The Doha continued. “The Sune way is an exploration of knowing what your end goal is and influencing those involved to achieve it. This simple explanation is the power of peace. Some think peace is to be found. Others believe, as I do, that the Sune way can speak various truths for every student who studies. We do not study peace. That is for those who intend to seek the unattainable. Peace is never stable, changing as quickly as it rises. We study the Sune way of seeking answers and becoming leaders moving toward peace.”

He looked around the room and held everyone’s gaze, his ears twitching. “Does anyone find that concept unsettling?”

A young boy at the front lifted his paw.

“Yes, give your name and age, please.” The Doha nodded to him.

“Good morning, Doha Ribid. My name is Elick Kanter and I am 10 years old.”

The Doha flicked his ear.

“How is using peace a power?”

Doha Ribid nodded as if expecting this question. In response, he shifted his paws to hold them in the air, one on either side of his head. His robe cloth fell down to his elbows. He closed his eyes and, after a quiet moment, someone gasped. All the students stared in amazement as his paws glowed. After a moment, the glow intensified before fading away. 

Doha Ribid opened his eyes and smiled down at Elick. By drawing on the mind’s inner strength, Sune empowers individuals with calmness and centered thoughts. How power is used can vary.

Spirito clutched his notebook and stared at the master, fascinated. 

****

At the end of the class, a claw tapped on Spirito’s shoulder as he stood to leave. He was surprised. Immersed in the reading material of articles of Sune projects that used various methods to achieve resolutions to different conflicts, he was too focused. He turned sharply to see Doha Ribid standing near and gesturing for him to stay and chat.

Doha Ribid pointed to the tablet as the students departed. “I believe the care of your tablet should be primary, Mr. Deshik. Especially you, of all students.” Doha Ribid lifted his eyebrow ridge.

“Uh…Yes, Doha. I was…careless.” Spirito didn’t confirm or deny his five-way course studies, but apparently, this Doha was aware of his efforts.
The instructor tilted his enormous head, and his ears twitched.

Spirito looked down at his belongings.

“Perhaps the fault is not all yours. There was a scuffle involving students near the door, as I was told. Did you take part in that?”

Spirito’s pelt rose. “Not on purpose, Doha. I sort of…fell into it.”

Doha Ribid nodded and sniffed. “Please study chapter four of your coursework. It is a full discussion on the topic of ‘awareness’. Avoiding future falls might involve considering the importance of “active listening”.

Spirito gazed at him, wide-eyed, and nervously agreed before turning to leave.

“Make sure you find a few study partners as well, Mr. Deshik. Avoid carelessness in the future and let other study partners remind you.

“Yes, Doha. I understand.” Spirito was already two steps ahead of this advice. He sent a message to Jac and Chance from his Tao class. Jac may be his age, but he was taking Sune as well. Chance was almost as proficient in Fac as he himself was. Yes, he planned on finding an entire army of friends if it kept him in one piece. Besides, study partners were not a bad idea, anyway. He already hoped Me-ume might find time to work with him. The sharp mind of hers made him smile. Too bad she didn’t stand three meters tall and study Fac and Chu. Then he frowned, wondering where she could be today.

* * *