A year had passed since Winston had first arrived, and Bruce continued taking every challenge thrown at him. It was beginning to make Winston more than a little concerned.

"During certain situations, it's vital to remain motionless," Winston explained, taking a small packet from his shirt pocket. "If multiple enemies, perhaps too many to fight, are looking for you, staying still can save your life. To that end, your next lesson will be in this very important discipline."

"What's that?" Bruce asked as Winston opened the miniature envelope.

"Itching powder," Winston answered. "Hold as still as you can. If you move or scratch, the test will start over."

Bruce breathed deeply several times in his cross-legged position on the back lawn, bracing for the challenge to come.

                                                                                                ***

Alfred and Winston stood on the stone patio behind Wayne Manor, watching Bruce from a distance. The child hadn't moved since the test had begun more than two hours ago. Both men could see the perspiration on Bruce's face and arms, but the nine year old was also showing a resiliency beyond measure.

"Master Bruce is doing quite well," Alfred commented.

"It's starting to worry me," Winston replied, keeping his gaze upon his student.

"What seems to be the problem?" Alfred questioned.

"Oh, come off it!" Winston retorted brusquely. "We've both trained our share of agents. What I see in Bruce, you couldn't have missed it with a blindfold on."

"He does seem rather intense in regard to his lessons," Alfred mentioned.

"During the time I've been his instructor, I haven't had to push him as much as other students I've trained," Winston stated. "Bruce is the one pushing. He keeps insisting on going further, more demanding challenges and tests."

"You know where this is leading, of course?" Alfred questioned rhetorically.

"There is only so much a human body can be put through, no matter how strong the will," Winston said. "By relentlessly pushing his own limitations, sooner or later, Bruce will run into a challenge he isn't prepared for. He'll hit it head on, and it will kill him."

"Training Bruce was the only way to get him over his fears," Alfred explained.

"It's consuming him," Winston pointed out.

"Is this why you chose today's particular lesson?" Alfred queried.

"One of them," Winston confirmed. "His desire for training is becoming an obsession. These lessons on restraint and control will help in his self-defense studies, but I'm also hopeful they will aid him in learning how to slow down."

"I saw the problem when he first started," Alfred admitted. "Because of his determination to be protected from all threats, I knew he'd find a way to learn on his own if we didn't teach him. At least with us here, he can study in a supervised environment, and when he hits the wall of his limitations, we can either keep him together or cushion the impact."

"You forgot the option of picking up the pieces," Winston remarked.

"I'd welcome a better alternative if you have one," Alfred said simply, clasping his hands behind his back.

"I know we're doing the only thing we can," Winston said, frustration in his tone. He sighed deeply in resignation. "I just wish we could do more. The kid deserves a better life than the endless training and the punishing discipline he's getting into."

"With our help, he may have one someday," Alfred said hopefully. "His parents would've wanted him to be happy."

                                                                                               ***

Bruce continued to train under Winston's guidance for six more years. He had grown from a small boy to a muscular teenager of fifteen years. His speed, strength, and endurance had increased with the passage of time, but his single-minded determination hadn't wavered in the slightest. Bruce still attacked his physical limitations with a zealous intensity, pushing himself to the furthest reach of his abilities.

During these years of difficult training, tutors were brought to the house in order to maintain his education in a secure environment rather than sending him off to private school. In addition to the standard lessons taught to any schoolboy, Bruce was also instructed in business, finances, and economics as the family company of Wayne Enterprises would be his to run someday, and he needed to be prepared to take the reins when the time came.

Alfred approached Bruce on the back patio. Bruce was performing a handstand on the stone railing, using only one arm as his opposing hand was intermittently required for turning the pages of the textbook he'd positioned underneath himself for reading during his exercises.

Bruce's dark hair was trimmed short to keep it out of his way, and his sleeveless, white shirt revealed the lean muscles he'd been accumulating. Sweat still glistened on his skin from his earlier exercise routines, but it wasn't enough to risk dripping down upon his book.

"Where's Winston?" Bruce asked without diverting his attention from either his reading or balancing.

"He regretfully informed me that he has taught you everything he knows," Alfred related to him. "Perhaps, you might consider taking a break from training?"

"Not yet," Bruce denied. "I'll need a new instructor."

"What on earth for?" Alfred questioned. "You're already highly disciplined and combat proficient. What more training do you require?"

"There is always the possibility of being captured," Bruce replied, turning a page in his book with his free hand. "Being taken by surprise, getting hit with tranquilizers, or possibly knockout gas could lead to my capture. The question then becomes, how do I escape? I'm not strong enough to break out of thick ropes or handcuffs. I need more training."

Alfred sighed, his hopes of dissuading Bruce from his course fading away and being replaced with an almost fatherly concern. He pulled out a newspaper from the inner pocket of his black suit jacket and dropped it on top of Bruce's book.

"Perhaps, strength is not the ability you need to develop to escape such situations," Alfred suggested.

Bruce stared hard at the newspaper advertisement.

"This might work," Bruce accepted. "The first show is in an hour; will you get the car?"

"Of course, Master Bruce," Alfred agreed. "Might I suggest a shower before we depart?"

"Good idea," Bruce accepted. He leaned sideways, tipping over and landing on his feet, his knees bending and absorbing the impact naturally. He collected his book and headed for the house.

                                                                                              ***

The gleaming black car pulled to a stop in the parking lot of the auditorium. Alfred shut off the engine and got out to open the rear door for Bruce.

Due to the dress code of the event they were about to attend, both Alfred and Bruce were attired in formalwear. It was hardly a change from the dark suits Alfred always wore as his profession as a butler, but Bruce hadn't worn a suit since the funeral of his parents. Alfred glanced with concern toward Bruce, wondering how the teenager might respond, but his worries appeared unfounded as Bruce was completely focused on the event they were here to attend.

The marquee was lit with chasing trails of lights around a poster showing a man in a long cape of glistening black. His tuxedo and top hat were the image of formality and sophistication. The man's name was written in bold letters and bright colors, and it identified the principal performer of today's event as Giovanni Zatara, master illusionist and escape artist.

Alfred pushed the horizontal rail of polished brass to open the front door, and he held it momentarily for Bruce to go first. The butler entered the auditorium immediately behind the teenager in whose employ he served.

The interior lighting was dim, but wall sconces provided enough of a gentle glow for anyone walking the hallway from the entrance into the main auditorium to see properly. A set of padded leather doors of dark red, each bisected by a gleaming brass rail identical to those on the exterior of the building, guarded the way into the next room.

Alfred opened the interior door the same as he'd done outside, and Bruce walked into the massive, almost cavernous, primary space of the auditorium. The walls were paneled in dark cherry wood, and the polished brass of the hanging chandeliers was both elegant and lavish. The curtains framing the stage were velvet of the richest crimson, trimmed by a gold fringe, and they matched the color and pattern of the carpet.

Most of the padded chairs were already occupied, but Bruce and Alfred managed to find a pair of seats on the aisle. They were located near the middle of the spacious room, close enough for a clear view of the stage and the activity about to be taking place there.

While Alfred and Bruce folded down the cushioned seats and got comfortable, the lights began to dim as the show started.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," boomed a loud and strong voice throughout the auditorium, instantly silencing any conversations still in progress. "Thank you for coming here. What you see will amaze to the point of disbelief."

A spotlight's cone of brightness focused on center stage, and a swirl of a black cape appeared seemingly from nowhere, but a gloved hand reached out and pulled it aside, leaving a man standing on stage with the cape draped about his shoulders. Bruce recognized the man from the poster outside, Giovanni Zatara.

"I ask you to suspend your preconceptions about magic," he told his audience. The magician began to turn, pulling the edge of his black cape up to swirl around him as he increased in speed. "If you don't have an open mind..."

"You will have trouble believing your eyes," finished a different voice as the cape was pulled aside for a second time, but the person now on stage was not Giovanni but a woman. She wore the same tuxedo and black cape as the magician who had just vanished, and her raven colored hair hung down from under the top hat she wore to brush the shoulders of her jacket.

"Sit back and put aside your notions of what is possible," the woman bid with a smile. "Because on this stage..."

While speaking, the woman turned around so as to have her back to the audience. She stepped to her right, and suddenly, there were two magicians on stage. The pair spun around, revealing one to be the woman and the other as Giovanni.

"Impossibilities are the illusion," Giovanni finished.