3.01

Michael had agreed to help Hunter with training once again. Michael had been disappointed in Bulldog and so he had personally wanted to help the teen.

They were in the gym hall at Hunter’s school, it was night, and nobody was there. Michael explained to Hunter that about half of the staff and the principal knew who Michael was and what was happening with Hunter and his friends. School was still open for them whenever they wanted to pursue their education.

Michael pulled the secret lever and all the training equipment popped out of their hiding places. The gym was once again a training ground.

“Have you learnt anything new with your powers since we last did this?” Michael asked. He wore his janitor’s outfit but by his side hung his old faithful rapier.

“Yeah. I can do this now.” Hunter opened his flasks of dust and formed three lances. He directed them each at a separate target, hitting a bullseye on each. The targets were about forty feet away.

“That’s pretty cool. It looks like your range has gotten a little better too.” Michael walked over to inspect the targets. The lances had dissipated on impact. Michael noticed a small impact on each target, roughly two inches deep.

“How’d I go?” Hunter waved his hand, and a billowy cloud of dust flew back to him.

“Pretty good, a little damage on each one. When did that happen?”

“When I got overrun with hundreds of those spider fish. It just sorta happened without me thinking about it.” Hunter had the dust float around his body.

“How easy are they to manoeuvre?” Michael pulled a few levers and some large metal hoops on the end of poles popped up around the room.

“Dunno. Never really done much with it except stabbed a few things right in front of me.” Hunter controlled the dust to form three lances once again that floated just above his shoulders.

“You’re not going to suddenly go around and start stabbing people, are you?” Michael’s usual cheery face suddenly turned pensive as he stared at Hunter.

“No, no. They’ll be used offensively but not like that.”

“Good. Now you don’t have the furthest range with your powers, but how do you go at keeping those up as your moving?” Michael’s whimsy ways came back.

“Haven’t really practiced since Doctor Flink.” It had only been a few days since the showdown with Flink. Silas was now out of care and was hanging around with his parents at The Fortress. Gauzelle and Jimena were hanging out at the treehouse training and relaxing.

“Well, I guess we give it a go, then shall we?” Michael stood in the middle of the room and waited for Hunter to start.

Hunter made for one of the hoops at a slow jog. He commanded each lance to sail through the hoop which was easy enough. He then turned and jogged for the next one, bringing the lances around with him. They turned like a lazy driver and flew together like a small triangle.

Hunter had the lances sail through the second hoop and snapped to the left and brought the lances around. At the same time, a wooden cut out made to look like an elderly lady dropped from the ceiling.

As the lances came around and Hunter stumbled a little, he noticed the cut out. He redirected the lances. One hit the elderly lady head on, one skimmed the edge and the third cleared the target and went through another hoop.

“I don’t think old ladies will be coming out of the ceiling,” said Hunter. He was still jogging, reformed the other two lances and made for the next hoop.

“You don’t know where or when obstacles and innocents will come in your way that you shouldn’t hit. Now hit those three targets again but dodge this.”

“Dodge what?” Hunter turned his head and saw a dented metal bucket come flying toward him. Hunter ducked just in time to avoid a serious headache.

“Your lances disappeared,” called Michael.

“Bit hard with a bucket flying at me.” Frustration started to creep into Hunter’s voice.

“Things come at you all the time. Chin up, clear your head. This is only your first practice session. Let’s keep going.”

Hunter continued to jog around the training room for another hour. He’d wind his three lances through the various hoops. Doing his best to avoid hitting what he wasn’t mean to. He avoided obstacles and even got hit a few times. All the while, he couldn’t shake the images of the dragon, motorbike rider and the giant robot with the plasma cannon.

By the end of the hour, he was a wreck. Panting, it took some conscious effort to keep the dust in their lance forms.

“Onto the next bit, chop chop.” There was a spring in Michael’s step as he drew his rapier and gave a little flourish.

“Seriously? You want to do that now?” Hunter released his lances and started to direct the dust back into his flasks.

“No no, come on now. You wanted serious training. You can’t expect to compete with the likes of Pendragon and Lancelot if you don’t keep training.” Hunter looked up at the old man.

“How di-”

“I’m an empath too remember.” Michael tapped the side of his head. “Hunter, I’m willing to put in the time to training you one on one. But you need to be willing to commit.

“They’re just…they’re in a different league. There’s no way I could catch up.” Hunter brought the dust back out but left it floating loosely around his body.

“They didn’t start at that point.” Michael sent some soothing waves at Hunter.

“But their powers are phenomenal.” The dust started to cake around Hunter’s body.

“Like I said before, it isn’t just the powers that make the hero. The villain. The person. Keep training, keep improving. Your power is only limited by your imagination.” Michael watched as the dust appeared to solidify. Packing itself together, creating a surface.

“Come at me old man. I got a long way to go.” Hunter’s frustration was replaced with a wave of determination.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Michael asked.

“As good a time as any.” Hunter formed his three lances.

“Okay. Come at me with everything you’ve got, but only using your lances. No dirty plays with your fists or dust clouds.”

Hunter directed one of his lances in high and a second one down low. Michael danced like a petal on the wind. He bobbed and weaved, parrying both with his rapier. Redirecting the dust weapons away with perfect ease.

Hunter thrust the third one forward and brought the other two around, but it was too much of a mental strain. The two that were circling around the back collapsed as the third one at the front shot in at Michael.

Michael turned with bravado and saw the other two had collapsed. He parried the third one without looking and turned back to face Hunter.

“That was well done. You were directing three in different directions and moving yourself.”

“But they collapsed.”

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself. You’ve only been practicing with these for just over an hour.”

“Then we’ll go another hour.”

Hunter and Michael parried, lunged, and sliced at each other for another hour. By the end of it, Hunter still couldn’t control all three lances for long, but he had a better feel for how to control them.

Hunter struggled to stay standing, but he was impressed with the stamina of the old man. Michael was as spry as ever.