"Oh, come on! Not even a break for five minutes?" protested a blond-haired boy.
"No. Not until you perfected that Autumn's Blow, Dylan," said Alfonzo Marcus Salvadore. He was relaxing on a nearby log with his legs crossed and eyes closed, not even bothering to see Dylan's progress.
Dylan groaned. He had been learning Blythe for a month and Alfonzo wouldn't let him rest until he had practiced it for two hours every day.
"But this move is so hard to do!" he added.
"Yes, I know. That's why I told you to practice."
"Can't I just study a stress-free move?" Dylan complained again.
"No, you will not learn anything if so."
"How about we take the day off just for today?" he implored.
"No."
"Pretty please?"
"No. Now back to practice or you won't have dinner tonight."
Dylan grunted. He had always hated it when Alfonzo threatens him about food. In his opinion, that had nothing to do with eating. But he knew no other person who could cook as well as Alfonzo. Heck, he knew no other person besides Alfonzo. Besides, he didn't have the money to pay for food in restaurants.
Other than being a good cook and a wise wizard, Alfonzo was also a pretty strict instructor. It was always practice. "The more you practice, the closer you are to perfection," he used to say.
"Can I choose an easier one then?" asked Dylan desperately.
"No. When I was your age, I had never been picky in what I had to learn. I know it is grueling, but you have to learn something. Blythe is a kind of self-defense technique. It is difficult to master, but it will help you protect yourself. Besides, it will provide experience for you," Alfonzo said.
Alfonzo had studied Blythe since he was very little. And he was able to master it when he was ten years old. But he kept on practicing for hours every day, until he had his first and only student, Dylan. Then he began focusing more on his job to teach him Blythe.
With a sigh, Dylan began to start his routine again.
-------------------------
Leaning his chair backwards so that it only stood on two legs - like how a child would, Dylan waited patiently for Alfonzo to finish his food. Well, he had been patiently waiting. He was now rather irked by how his master ate at a snail's pace.
"Tell me again why you have to eat so slowly?"
Alfonzo looked up from his bowl and frowned. "You can't hurry the process of food consumption."
Dylan shifted his body forwards to sit properly. "But I can. If I can do it, you can do it, too, right?"
Alfonzo sighed. This kid is impossible. "Dylan, I know you're really excited about this, but please, let me finish this first," he said, pointing at his wooden bowl half-filled with his "world-famous chicken porridge", Dylan used to say, and until this day, he still did.
Dylan frowned. He was starting to think that Alfonzo did that on purpose. But he would let it slide this time. "Fine," he mumbled. Alfonzo lifted his spoon to continue slow-eating and smiled. He knew just how important this day was for Dylan.
