Martial Arts for the Little Zanabians

In Zanabia, martial arts for children is not about defeating an opponent. It is about meeting yourself, bowing politely, and then trying not to trip over your own tail. Every afternoon, the training hall fills with soft thuds, giggles, and very serious faces. Little turtle heads face their own clones—same shell, same cautious eyes—moving slowly at first, learning patience before power. When one clone pauses too long, the other waits. In Zanabia, even a duel respects hesitation. The little Woolybays are different. They charge their clones with enthusiasm, fluff bouncing, feet slipping, courage outweighing balance. They tumble, roll, and laugh, then stand up together, because pride here is measured by how gently you help yourself back to your feet. Dragonfly-head children hover lightly, sparring with mirror versions of themselves. Their wings hum as they dodge, not to escape, but to understand timing. Speed is natural to them, but control is earned—one calm breath at a time. And there, always in the centre, stands Blenchy. Blenchy does not shout. He does not blow a whistle. He watches with the quiet authority of someone who knows everyone will listen anyway. When a child grows angry, Blenchy places a paw on the mat. When a child grows afraid, Blenchy smiles. When a clone fight becomes too real, Blenchy clears his throat—and that is enough. At the end, no one wins. No one loses. The clones bow, fade away, and the children sit cross-legged, breathing hard, eyes bright. They have learned strength without harm, courage without noise, and the most Zanabian lesson of all: The hardest opponent is yourself—and the kindest victory is balance.