As Elias walked toward the center, there was no bounce in his step. He didn't raise his guard. His hands hung loosely at his sides. He just stood there, looking like an old man waiting in line at the grocery store. Julian snickered, bringing his fists up to his chin. "Alright, old timer. Try to hit me."
The ritual of the dojo demanded a bow before any engagement. Julian gave a shallow, dismissive nod of his head, eager to get to the part where he could show off.
Elias, however, bowed perfectly. He bent at a crisp forty-five-degree angle, holding it for three seconds before rising. When he locked eyes with Julian again, the stooped posture was gone. His spine was perfectly straight. His eyes, previously warm and tired, were now entirely vacant, like the surface of a deep, still pond.
"Whenever you're ready, Elias," Julian mocked.
Elias took half a step forward. He didn't raise his fists, but the air in the room suddenly felt heavier. The crowd fell completely silent, intuitively sensing a shift they couldn't explain.