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[SP-F1] Feeding the enemy


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He slid through the next doorway on his heels, peering skyward for any trace of the crow. There came a faint cawing in the distance, as though the bird knew he had resumed his chace but had no intention of slowing down for him. This area was expansive, lush and green. Trees were spaced apart, planted in symmetrical patterns the way one might have spaced out a garden reached toward the skyline, leaving only trace splotches of ephemeral blue visible to the eye.

Alkor made his way toward the closest tree and looked up at it, noting that it was the type that bore fruit but it was out of season. Apples, perhaps, or oranges? He couldn't tell just from the look of the tree despite how many times in his childhood he had gone to pick fruit. Part of him was glad for the absence of fruit, though.  It was one less distraction from his current goal.

"I'll bet that little git is camped out in one of these trees," he said as he strode slowly toward the next closest tree. It seemed overly simple, yet if he did not check, he might give up on the chance at finding the familiar again altogether. He was unwilling to take that risk. 

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When several trees failed to bear fruit (pun intended), Alkor let out a long sigh. It was no easy task, chasing this bird and failing on multiple attempts to get it to befriend him. It felt familiar in the sense that his attempts to befriend others in the past had met with difficulty, be it walls at a social level or an inability to find common ground. As he moved toward the next tree in his search, Alkor glanced up at the sky. The last he remembered, he was in a building, a cavern, but the sky was plainly visible overhead.

Another caw broke the silence and ended his train of thought. The tree he was headed for was in the wrong direction, and he turned on his heel to correct himself. The sound came from another doorway, another hallway that led to a new room. He wasted no time rushing forward to follow the crow's cry, and the gentle breeze that washed over him smelled like Springtime. 

The trees gave way to a massive field of flowers that seemed to stretch into eternity around him. Only the path forward remained true. Overhead, he could see the crow flapping its wings. True north? Perhaps.

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When he crossed the threshold this time, everything went white.

For several moments, all of his thoughts and memories ground together through a sieve. Nothing made sense, and then, perpetual darkness took hold. The night washed over his world, and there was no sky nor ground. Simply the infinite blackness that consumed everything except Alkor. Was this creation? Was it oblivion? Concepts like these raced through his mind as he walked, in awe that the program would simulate such profound, abstract things.

He took a step, and stars filled the sky. Alkor hesitated to take a second, but his body moved as easily as it had with the first. Beauty illuminated the skyline and lit up the path forward, and Alkor found himself moving in spite of himself. His mind did not comprehend the way, but his instincts understood. Forward was not something you 'knew.' It was something you 'did.'

At least, that was the sense he was getting as he moved. He tried to tell himself to stop several times, but instead, he watched events within Aincrad from his own past unfolding. Love, hate, lust, kindness, hostility,  indifference... he recognized the trend and chewed on his lip.

Everyone makes mistakes.

Everyone has emotions. 

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 He heard the cry overhead and saw the crow circling above him.

In the strange lighting,  it seemed so surreal. He looked around for another door, for someplace that it might try to fly to evade him, but it just began to steadily fly in one direction. Alkor started to jog after it, eyes set on the creature's wingbeats, not even fully aware of the stars that flickered overhead. The earth began to take shape beneath his feet, and the path become slightly visible, but the forms of creatures and people were incomplete, incoporeal. 

It was haunting. 

Alkor felt like the only human alive, watching some celestial gardener tending some Promethean labor. As human beings sprouted, took shape, and grew, he was uniquely gifted the opportunity to understand the effort. What went into making one, what cultivated them- not just intrinsically, but their personalities, their weaknesses, their strengths. It felt harrowing, like he was being laid bare. Open on a table for all to see, and yet, he was also the only member of the audience.

Breathtaking.

ID# 167417 results: 

 Loot: 11 + 5 = 16 <success>

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It flew close as they veered off to the right- or was it the left? Direction admittedly ceased to make sense in that void, and while he retained full comprehension of the ground and gravity, Alkor did not profess any real mastery over any of the physics involved. Since entering the dungeon he was stricken with an inexplicable sense of awe, like a child relearning how to breathe, to move its arms and legs, even as if he were opening his eyes again for the first time.

Perhaps that was the point of this quest? And was the familiar food really familiar food at all? Had the Gypsy unknowingly drugged him with some hybrid of mushrooms and acid? He sure felt like he was on some kind of trip. 

As they turned a full ninety degrees (at least, to his rough estimate) they turned to see a golden, blazing flame at the bright center of all things. It was like the forge was finally hot and they had been thrust forward, ever forward toward its center.

The time had come to shape him.

ID# 167418 results:

 Craft: 4 <fail>

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As the crow came winging close, Alkor joined it in thrusting deep into the heat. Gilded fire wreathed them both and the darkness was abolished. Alkor wanted to scream out, empty his lungs, burn away the fear and the pain... the pain that never came.

Everything was white suddenly. 

The world was fuzzy, not ablaze. The screams subsided and twisted into distant echoes, like voices drowned underwater. He felt like some sort of anesthetic had been administered. Perhaps it had? "Where the hell am I?" he asked groggy. He found himself looking around, sitting up in an empty, austere room. A hospital bed? How long had he been out? 

"What the-?"

He felt them more than he saw them, hands from either side hurrying to restrain him and tether him down to the bed. Was he fighting? He felt like he wasn't, but he wasn't sure of anything anymore. "Am I alive? What is going on?"

"Do you ever remember a time when you were broken, and had to be put back together?"

 

ID# 167419 results:

Craft: 5 <fail>

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"Once, maybe. When I was younger."

Alkor looked up to see the crow perched over his head, staring down at him. It was the first time he'd seen it up close, and curiously, he recognized that it had a third leg. He had never seen that before... but perhaps, he thought, he had heard of it somewhere. Even when he strained however, he was uncertain.

"Torn ligament or something. Lots of drugs. Limited movement. Rehabilitation."

He looked down at himself, but he couldn't feel any pain or see any complications. The hands were detached, and even when he looked toward the bodies, he could see no faces. Hands meant to help, attached to people he did not know. He felt a dull panic, slowly ebbing away like the tide.

"Sometimes to move forward, you have to look back."

Alkor's gaze snapped back to the bird, which tilted its head as it observed him quietly. "Who do you know who would help you, if you were broken?" it inquired.

 

ID# 167420 results:

 Craft: 6 <fail>

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He strained to look at one of the people around him. Their faces were melded together with the light, congealed into shadowy masks of their true selves. He reached for the first pair of hands, the ones that held at his wrists, and he wore an expression of confusion at first, giving way to trust. He trusted that this person did not want to do him harm. He let out a breath, heavy, harsh, but indicative that he was willing to relax.

Trust was difficult, at first, but it came gradually. As he relaxed, Alkor began to see the concerned, yet gentle expression of Lessa, one of the very first people he met inside SAO. She continued to reassure him, wishing him well and watching over his vitals as he stabilized. The shaking slowed, and his temperature dropped. 

Alkor felt his eyes drooping and consciousness fading, and the firmness of a friendly grip around his hands. With that comfort, he let himself sink into darkness once more.

ID# 167421 results:

 Craft: 7 <fail>

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"You were in and out there for a while. None of us were sure that you'd make it out alright." She didn't sound so concerned when he heard her voice, but he had seen it before. Alkor felt odd now, laying prone, listening to someone talk about his health and admitting that they cared. It was new, yet not. Perhaps the source was the most obscure part for him. "Seemed like you went through a lot of mental stress. Some kind of breakdown. They just found you and brought you here..."

"Where is here? I didn't know there were hospitals in Aincrad..."

"Heh... those were the days, weren't they? Aincrad... who knew back then that we'd make it out, and that we'd go on to be friends on the outside like this?" She hesitated for a moment. "I mean, we talked about it, everybody talked about it, but..."

"...no, see, I'm still in Aincrad. We're both still in Aincrad."

"Yeah... they said there might be some post traumatic stress, and that you'd probably think that. But that's okay! We'll get through this. You're gonna be just fine, Thom..."

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The meds came and went, and so did consciousness.  Nurses came in shifts, and they counseled him that he was delirious, that the Aincrad incident though terrible was now over. He refused to believe it because for one- did no one see that crow just outside his window? Did no one hear the steady caw?

"Hey, man," another voice entreated. Alkor turned to look at him, struggling to see. Shape and sound culminated as the accent came through, and the concerned gaze of Mari now looked over him. "You really now how to give a girl a fright," she laughed. "When you went under the first time, we never thought you'd come out. It was like... that place all over again, but you were gone without us"

Everyone hated Aincrad, but these versions of them swore up and down it was over. That they had won,, which was the dream, but definitively not the reality. "Its not over," he garbled harshly. "It's not..."

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"You know, if you're going to make people worry about you, you should at least try not to scare them," Chase? He barely knew this person, and yet, in the short time they had worked together, he came to trust him. "But watching Mari run out of the room like that was pretty uncharacteristic, I have to admit. You really don't want to give up on the idea you're still trapped inside, do you?"

"Because I am," he replied flatly. "We all are. You're a figment of my imagination given tangible form by the Cardinal System. For what reason, to what end, I have no idea."

"I remember you telling me it was capable of things like that," the man conceded with a half nod. "Alright. Say you're right. Say you are still trapped in Aincrad, and say I am just a memory jogged and activated by Cardinal. What's the point of it? What does the system gain from forcing you to live through a nightmare where all of your friends try to sell you on being done with the world?"

"Because the moment we decide to stop going forward, that's it. Its not as final as death, nor as sad, but choosing to give up is a failure in its own right. If I stayed in this illusion til Aincrad ended, I'd be one more Player who didn't help bring the nightmare to an end."

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"Thats an awful lot of responsibility to take on yourself," Lessa remarked. Alkor glanced up to see the woman behind Chase, watching over his bed like a motherly attendant. "Don't you think it discounts all the effort that the rest of us put in? Like you're saying we couldn't have done it without you?"

"No," he protested. "We're all in this together, or we'll all be lost. I know for a fact Lessa feels the same way, so don't you go trying to confuse me by spouting off nonsense while wearing her face!" He was... angry, and yet, he was not afraid to show it. Alkor unleashed a rage on them that visibly started all of the three gathered in the room. An animated hostility uncharacteristic of the nearly ever-ambivalent youth.

Alkor ripped the IVs from his arm and started to sit upright as he roared. "No, I won't sit here anymore. You've been trying to hold me back from moving forward, and I'm done capitulating!'

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The moment he ripped free, color started to fade from around him. He reached for his head, but he couldn't feel his hands. Alkor looked frantically, but his body had disappeared. He could see, but he could no longer see the things around him that truly defined his space. He was not in a hospital anymore, but in a void where sounds and colors bled together. Shapes were immaterial until he gave them form in his mind, and when he did, they began to appear like an artist putting pen to paper.

"Go ahead," the voice urged him. "You've put together your own understanding of what is real, who you trust, and what they are really like. This world can't lie to you anymore. Only you know your path forward, and you alone understand what you want to be. No one else can reconstitute you, no one else can graft together the personality that makes up "Alkor."

Who are you? What do you want to be? What do you want to do? These question are yours to answer now. You have the power."

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"I know who I am," he replied.

The world became still, unmoving and empty. "When I first came to Aincrad, I did so with the delusion that I could create a false self and live behind a mask. What you're telling me right now is no different than that. Tear me apart, break me down to my basest molecules, give me a paintbrush, and I won't create anything different from my previous experiences. 

I've come to understand that who I am is a culmination of what I've done and how I choose to live. I can't decide how I'll be remembered, I can only make something that others will see and hope that my message reaches them. So, no, thank you, but I reject this path forward.

I want to make my own way, with all the mistakes, all the failures, and all the imperfections I've always carried. I want to do that because without those things, Alkor does not exist. I do not exist."

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The voice did not speak for a very long time. 

He heard his own words resounding around him, and though he was critical of many things- his voice, for one- he was not critical of the words he had chosen. The message he sent was clear, and he was entirely behind each and every word. When the response came, the words sounded as though the were spoken with a smile.

"That is your answer?" it asked, rhetorically. "So be it. You are Alkor. In all things, forever, you are your own navigator, and the captain of your own destiny. May fortune favor you, and the direction you choose reflect the life you have decided to live."

He did not see the crow, nor could he hear it leave. What Alkor knew was that from this point forward, there was no questioning his resolve. He'd been given a chance to back down and refused it. Something told him that he could have forever changed himself at his very core, and yet, to do so on a whim spat in the face of true effort.

A person grows through experience, not at the snap of a finger. 

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He blinked, and once more, he stood at the edge of the world.

The sky was fire, but cool, calm, and beautiful. It burned like heartache at the end of a story, all the cast sad to see it go but each of them glad in their own way for a resolution. Alkor was alone, but not alone. In this wod of Aincrad, there were so many people still trapped. Not only literally, but many others just like him, still not liberated from the confines of their minds.

Alkor had been his own jailer, but somehow, the system had seeped in and offered him a slight chance to change his own fate. The system could not give him the answers, as he had learned, instead it gave direction. Direction...

It struck him in that moment. Out of all the things the Crow had said, it offered direction.

A familiar was a program within the system.

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He stepped all the way to the edge and took a seat.

"When I first came to this place, I was expecting to chase down a wolf or a fox, or some other kind of creature that I would then tame and use in combat. I think that's an experience most Players must have. But then, I think quests are given to each person according to their needs. That's something about Cardinal I'm certain very few people understand. Its not inherently evil. Some of the things it does are rehabilitative, like for instance, the exercise I just went through.

Extreme, perhaps. I dont know any other advocate that would allow someone's psyche to be torn down to bare bones and held intact by a thread just to allow them to decide what kind of person they wanted to become, but I also think its helped me more than any therapist I've ever sat down with."

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Alkor stretched out his hand and closed his eyes. From the sun a dark spot rose, and with each second, it grew larger. He heard the wingbeat and when his eyes opened, the three-eyed crow came winging toward him. He did not flinch.

The talons scraped his flesh, but in Aincrad, there was no pain. The bird looked him in the eyes, and with confidence, Alkor held its gaze. "I'm Alkor," he spoke softly, and with no small amount of familiarity. They knew each other well by now, well enough that giving his name was a wasted formality. And yet, kindness was still due.

Let's see what your name is.

Alkor looked at his HUD when the creature's name appeared, and his eyes widened in astonishment. He had heard the name, heard many stories, but never thought he would experience something like this. Through history and in legend, the name came forward from Japanese mythology as a creature who offered the guidance of the gods. 

"...Yatagarasu."

ID# 167422 results:

 Loot: 13 <success>

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It wasn't quite ready to simply listen. Instead, it kept his gaze and seemed to reflect on his actions.  The decisions he had made in this monolithic trial had resonated with this particular creature, a legendary symbol of guidance and direction. That was not enough to placate such a being, of course.

Yatagarsu stared deep into his soul, searching probing, skimming everything it could about his life, the person he was, down to a core level that made him feel fully exposed. Yet he did not recoil; and as the talons dug deeper and he felt heat move through his arms, up into his shoulders, and all the way to his brain, Alkor understood that this was his final test.

Whether or not Yatagarsu had chosen him, it had not yet accepted him. For him to succeed here, he had to prove his worth. In that moment, with that realization, Alkor flicked open his inventory. "You must be hungry after all of that," he said, dismissing all the gravitas of the situation. "Here, have some familiar food."

 

ID# 167424 results:

 Craft: 7 <fail>

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When he found her again, the Gypsy woman chuckled. "Find you a creature worthy of a warrior?" she asked. "Or a warrior worthy of such a creature?" Her cryptic words belied a deeper knowledge that she never went into detail about, and yet, Alkor was content not to know. He held out the familiar food to her and she took it back with a knowing smile.

"What found you in the wood?" she asked.

"Many things," he answered honestly, "Above all, I found what I came for."

Alkor reached upward, palm outstretched. Where many people announced their summons aloud,, Alkor did not need to speak. The Divine Bird of Guidance soared in on silent wings and circled his hand thrice before it alighted on his middle finger,, looking toward the Gypsy with its head tilted..

"Ahhhh... I see," she smiled. "Very interesting indeed," she chuckled. "Very interesting."

Yatagarasu walked down his arm and to his shoulder, where it nestled to rest.

 

ID# 167425 results:

 Craft: 10 <FAMILIAR TAMED>

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