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[SP-F7] What He can see


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"Just when I think you might say something prolific, you jump right back to doomspeaking," the Monk joked. "Is there anything that isn't a conspiracy theory about the woes of civilization in that mind of yours?" 

"I also think taxation is theft," Alkor offered helpfully.

"Right, now that we've fully moved into the dream world, let's prioritize our thoughts. We came into this to understand the subjectivity of thought; but we did so bearing in mind how you can get stronger. What do you think you need to do in order to move forward?"

"If I need to understand defense before I can learn a powerful offense, then I suppose my next effort should be to improve my skill at reading opponents and moving around the battlefield."

"And how to do that by utilizing your new friend," the man indicated Yata, who had skittered a bit closer but not flown down to rest on Alkor's shoulder just yet. "Have you considered trying to train him with different commands? Maybe sounds or actions that you might use to illicit a response?"

"I've thought about it, honestly, but somehow it doesn't seem right. It's almost like there's an unspoken agreement there, like he moves when he needs to and I don't have to tell him."

"The bird... knows instinctively?"

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"It's hard to explain, but somehow in the heat of battle, I can just tell what he's thinking instinctively. It's almost like there's a bond there and we just understand each other at some underlying level. I know that sounds crazy, but..."

"I have heard of such things before regarding Swordsmen and their pets- ah, pardon me, I meant 'companions.' They meet under strange circumstances and over time develop a powerful bond. Some of them go on to work together with their companions as Beast Tamers, while others simply train to augment their own skills in combat by having their friend spot for them, or provide some much needed cover in the heat of battle... all manner of different things."

"I feel like I should train in a way that's hands off, so that I do the legwork and all Yata has to do is watch for openings."

"Your fighting style is fast and ferocious," the monk commented, "so it would do best not to have allies in the way, where they might fall victim to your flurrying strikes."

Or potentially deadly debuffs and Damage over Time statuses, he thought.

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"And so, how do you envision getting your friend to work together with you in this?" he questioned.

"Well, maybe I'll have him pick up a position near the combat zone," Alkor considered as he turned to glance at Yata. "From there, have him carefully watch for openings and periodically change position, looking for the best possible vantage."

"Is that an optimal use of his time and expenditure of energy?" The monk asked, clearly intent on making Alkor review every thought. 

"For the most part he would be idle, so I doubt it would be much of a problem," the swordsman reasoned. "Maybe if he saw something that might turn the tide, he could give a really loud cry and tip off my allies to focus on something they might not have noticed?" He sounded less sure now, like he was looking for the monk to either agree or disagree with him.

"Only you can ultimately decide what will work best for you," the older man told him. "Bearing that in mind, do you think that will help you?"

"Well, I think it would be better than not using him."

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"After all, what would be the point of going through all that trouble to find him and tame him if I didn't?" Alkor joked, though he was actually more than a bit serious. That quest had been an absolute acid trip, and the NerveGear had taken him on a journey unlike anything he'd experienced in a quest prior. 

"Perhaps there is more to him than simply his merit in combat?" came the suggestion. "Perhaps, instead of how he can help you fight better, you should focus on utilizing him to sharpen your immediate senses and enhance your abilities overall?"

"Like some sort of weird overlapping consciousness?" he questioned. "Is that sort of thing possible?"

"I could not say," came the response. "It is not entirely beyond the realm of possibility, I have seen all manner of tandem skills with companions, but I do not completely understand how deep the rabbit hole goes, so to speak."

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"So, I should experiment to see what works," he asked for confirmation, "and as we progress I can improve from there?"

"That would be a strong point to start," the monk nodded. 

Alkor let out a quick whistle, and Yata swooped down to land on his wrist. The three legged crow let two of his legs rest and one remained upright, limp at the wrist. "Alright, big guy," Alkor began, "this time, we're gonna try things a little different. For now, just stick with me and we'll start by looking at the same points. As we take them in, we'll note all the details we can, and list them off in our minds. Think you can handle that?"

The monk gave a bemused smile as the swordsman spoke to his familiar, but he did not criticize his methods. Yatagarasu tilted his head, but otherwise did not respond. Instead, once Alkor pointed at the monk, the bird fixed the older man with his gaze. "Now, get a good look. Remember every single detail you can."

ID# 168212  Craft: 9 <1/3>

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The monk looked on as the Swordsman and the Three Legged Crow looked him over critically. 

Alkor tilted his head in much the same way the bird did, careful to take in every wrinkle, every crease and fold in the man's flesh. He got a sense that he was missing something as he noted that the man's eyes were blue, and when he concentrated a bit more, he realized that there were specks of hazel littered about the iris. Had he noticed that?

He glanced sidelong toward the crow, raised an eyebrow, then looked back at the old man. Suddenly, he recognized a subtle amount of stubble on the man's face that before, he had failed to recognize. It was almost invisible if you didn't look at it from exactly the right direction. But... he wasn't looking at it from that direction. He was just a meter or two off from it...

...but once he'd noticed it, he couldn't miss it.

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"How long have you had that stubble under your beard?" Alkor asked. "I swear that wasn't there ten minutes ago."

"Oh, no, it was," the old man blinked, surprised. "I didn't think you were staring hard enough to notice that."

"I'm not sure I was," he said honestly. "But then, I did. Suddenly. I'm... not sure where that came from."

"Perhaps you are a bit more in tune with your friend than we previously believed," the monk stroked his beard. "Have you considered another test? To see just how it works?"

"Good plan," Alkor said as he turned around. "Alright, I'm going to face this way, you keep looking at him. Old man, I want you to hold up any number of fingers, one to ten. You do that, and I'm going to try to guess how many. Think you can do that?"

The old man held up his middle finger.

"Ha ha," Alkor snorted. "Wait, did you just stick up your middle finger?"

"Were you looking?"

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"You mean to tell me I have some kind of intuition based on what Yata sees?" he asked skeptically.

"I think you are made more aware of things that he observes, and in some specific instances, you experience a sixth sense based on his line of sight."

"Is that something you've heard of?" Alkor asked.

"No, but there's no reason for me to think that it's impossible. There are many things in this world that have yet to be discovered. Perhaps you've simply stumbled upon one of them."

Alkor blinked several times in rapid succession. He had heard of skills that randomly appeared in a Player's stats one day, after they had met some undisclosed criteria. He had watched Zelrius go into battle with two blades held in either had, and everyone had heard of Calrex, the Ultramarine Knight who feared no amount of damage. Compared to those things, this seemed almost normal.

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"Okay, so," Alkor took a seat again and Yata perched on his shoulder. "I don't necessarily need Yata to move or find a vantage point to capitalize on this. That changes the entire situation."

"Absolutely," the monk agreed.

"Even if he just circled overhead on the battlefield there would be a perfect opportunity for him to take in different aspects of every enemy, and every foothold. So really, if I train him to just observe, I'm getting maximum utility out of him."

"I feel like that's not too much to ask. Other than that, he gets to fly freely."

"Well, thanks for being his lawyer for this conversation I guess," Alkor snorted. "But yeah! How's that sound, Yata?"

The bird cawed once.

"I'm not sure whether or not that means he likes it, but he isn't pecking me or flying away, so we'll go with it for the time being."

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"What do you believe is the reason that you all fight?" the monk asked.

"Me and Yata?" Alkor turned to regard the old man skeptically. 

"You and the others," he asked, indicating the Players. 

What a question. From the AI that kept him trapped, it seemed malignant, sinister even. Did Cardinal care enough to ask something so penetrative? Or was this something else entirely?

"Some people would say freedom," he answered truthfully, "and even though that's not exactly wrong, I don't think it's totally right, either."

"Oh?"

Alkor blinked slowly. "I think most of us are fighting just to stay alive," he said, brutally honest. "Freedom might be the goal at the end of the tunnel, but it's far away. Too focused on that, and we'll forget all the important things that lead up to it. Just staying alive from one floor to the next, that's the real trick," he said. "It's almost always the boss fights that stop Players in their tracks."

He knew that to be true firsthand.

ID# 168213 Craft: 4 <fail>

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"I know admittedly very little about the struggles that you adventurers face," the older man admitted, "save for what I am told secondhand, and from that, I do not envy any of you. It is a turbulent lifestyle devoid of inner peace, which stands opposed to the doctrine of this temple. There are warriors through history who were able to attain inner calm and tap deep into it on the battlefield, but they were few in number and many of their names were lost. 

I have heard, though, of ways to commune with their legacy and learn from them. Perhaps, if such things interest you, you may search far and wide in order to take those secrets for yourself."

"Perhaps," Alkor murmured. Admittedly, he had heard something along those lines from an info broker, but when he heard it from an NPC, it became much more credible. With a sigh, he gave a shrug.

"I really just need to figure out how to fit all of this together," he said at last.

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"Perhaps you are trying to hard to force the pieces together, rather than letting them fall into place where they belong." There was wisdom in those words that gave Alkor pause. "Too often, the mind becomes obsessed with organizing things beyond its comprehension. This creates strife, and chaos follows. The mind should only be employed to solve those mysteries that are broken down and condensed into a manageable format."

"So what you're saying is..."

"Don't worry so much. Things will come together in due time, whether by your hand or by some outside force acting in a manner that benefits you. Regardless: this will end favorably for you. You have already come this far. There is no need to agonize any further."

"Yeah, maybe you're right," Alkor exhaled sharply. He was so used to analyzing, even over analyzing everything. Perhaps that was part of the riddle he was trying to solve here, too. When he'd gone through the trials to meet Yata, he'd been put to the test.

Who was to say this wasn't a second, less direct version?

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"So, instead of trying to train the crow..."

"I'll train myself, and he'll pick up on how I move. Eventually, he'll start to adapt to how I move relative to my enemies, and I'll be able to start noticing subtle differences about my surroundings, and even be more aware of weaknesses I might not have noticed on my own."

"Because he's an observer, not a participant."

"Yeah. When the concept of Familiars was brought to my attention, I only ever saw them used as a supplemental force in the battlefield. So really, that's on me for making an assumption based on incomplete observation." Alkor glanced over to Yata. "Sorry, buddy."

The bird let out a caw, tilted its head, and studied Alkor for a moment before it set about the business of preening itself. Alkor chuckled. "Doesn't seem to bother him at all. Wish I had that kind of lassiez faire attitude toward life."

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"So, where does your training begin?" the monk inquired.

"At the very beginning. The basics are the foundation of swordsmanship, and if Yatagarasu doesn't know everything down to its core anatomy, I can't expect him to fill the gaps in." He instructed the bird to take flight with a finger pointed skyward. "I'll get started. You watch closely now, Yata."

"I think your understanding of one another has already started to grow and evolve," the older man observed. "With nothing more than a quick gesture, very few and vague words, and a slight lilt to your voice, you told him to take flight. And now," he pointed, "there he is."

"Still plenty of things to work on," the swordsman brushed away the praise with a small smile. He couldn't let such a small amount of progress go to his head, not if he wanted to continue to grow. Baseless pride and a lack of humility were a sure way to hit a wall. "But I thank you for your kind words,  si fu."

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As Yaragarasu soared overhead, Alkor sprinted through the training yard. Movement at its core started with simple motion, and so, Yata learning to visualize Alkor at a run seemed like the foundation for anything they might work on. As they moved from that, he incorporated the training apparatuses, using them as targets to dodge so that the crow could understand evasion.

"Focus on moving your own body, not whatever it may be that your partner is supposed to see," the monk counseled.  "He will see exactly what he is supposed to. You need only assure whatever he sees is done correctly, so that he knows."

"You sure got a lot of know how for someone who hasn't seen a partnership like this before," Alkor teased.

"Common sense," the monk prodded himself in the temple. "Humankind operates on a baseless sense of pride. Knowing that you would put on the best demonstration you could and trying to tailor it to an audience was only educated guesswork."

 

ID# 168214 Craft: 9 <2/3>

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As much as he hated to admit it, the monk was right. Too often did he try to paint things in the perfect way so that it appeared he did no wrong. In this situation, that mentality did him no favors. If Yata was unable to see Alkor fail, he would be unable to warn him against it under more serious circumstances.  With a deep breath, Alkor accepted that he would have to stop being stubborn and move forward.

"Okay, again," he called out, "from the beginning, but this time, I'll do it more naturally."

"Would some more tea help you to relax?" the monk offered. 

"Not just now," Alkor shook his head. "Soon, though."

He checked the dummies to assure that they were completely grounded and intact, then returned to the start of his makeshift obstacle course and began from the top.

"First, the lap around the training yard, and then I can move to weaving through the dummies..."

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He ducked, dodged, and danced. The Curved sword moved through air with precision as he cut through the bulk of a dummy, but it withstood the strike. They were durable at least. He positioned himself between two and made ready for both to attack at once, and they did. With quick strikes from multiple directions, Alkor found himself quickly on the defensive- but that was the goal, here.

Improve defense to improve offense, and to stay alive. 

"How am I doing?" Alkor asked the old man.

"You could stand to add another target," the monk replied bluntly. "You're too fast. They can't get through to hit you, and you learn nothing without pressure that forces you to improve."

The younger man blinked. "What? No, this is a chore as it is. Any more and I just won't be able to keep up. Maybe you're just fatigued and you're overthinking it."

"I know what I see," the man shook his head, "and what I see is a boy unwilling to push himself harder."

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I'll make him eat those words, Alkor swore to himself. There was a fire under his skin that sparked when the man said he was unwilling to push himself, and though he wouldn't say so aloud, his nonverbal response said everything. "Alright," Alkor snapped. "Two more dummies. There," he pointed, "and there."

Now, he was under attack from all four sides. A multidirectional defense would lend to a much more varied offense, but before that, he had to learn to respond to all of them. It was no easy task, just as he had surmised. At first, the attacks seemed simple enough. Vectors were easy to read, blocks that didn't happen quick enough didn't stop the full force of the attacks. When the first impact came, it threw him to the ground. 

"Dammit!" he cursed loudly. "I told you it was too much!"

Alkor clambered back to his feet and caught his breath, then returned to his fighting stance to start again.

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He worked into the rotation again and blocked the first four attacks without issue. As he did so, the timing began to slowly, subtly shift, but he was acutely aware of it. He didn't lock his gaze on a single target. Instead, he allowed himself to feel the movements around him and used his peripheral vision to take note of any sudden movement, which allowed him to shift or change how he held his weight in order to respond adequately. 

When he took blows now, they felt less heavy, and though they still caused him to feel irritation when they landed, now they taught him an important lesson. Not every strike had to miss: Alkor just had to make every strike against him count a little less. If it didn't make its exact mark, or it simply grazed him instead of colliding with him head on, it did infinitely less damage than a direct hit.

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"I think I'm getting it," he said as he twisted his body out of the way of one attack and redirected another. He used that blow to counter the third and placed the third attacker between himself and the fourth. Movements were easier now, like flowing water rather than choppy, stormy seas. He could see more clearly, and because of that, he could respond with temerity.

"I believe you have found your answer," the monk agreed. "What says your friend?"

Alkor lifted his wrist upward and Yata came to rest on it, nibbling at his plumage for a moment before looking up at Alkor expectantly. "Honestly, I think we've reached 'job well done,' Alkor said. "I feel like we've both grown from the training."

"Good," the monk took a step back and bowed. "Then I wish you good luck on your journey, my young friend. And you, Yatagarasu. Watch over him."

Yata let out a series of caws.

ID# 168215 Craft: 8 <3/3> 

COMPLETE

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