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[SP-F1] Courageous Beyond Measure III (Complete)


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"Well look who finally decided to show up to the battle," remarked Azide. He returned his dagger to its sheath, before making his way over to McGonagall, who greeted him with an overly excited slap on the back. Despite having just had the air knocked cleanly from his lungs, he made a valiant effort to maintain the uneasy smile on his face. Although he himself had realistically been in no danger, it was greatly appreciated that McGonagall should finish off the last of the beasts before things could devolve into a never ending slugfest.

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McGonagall strapped the mighty sword onto his back, returning the bulky thing to where it had come from- presumably, the depths of his inventory. "No need to thank me little guy, I did only what any other higher leveled player would do in a situation like that," answered the man with a humble bow. The blank look on his face brought to mind the look of enlightenment worn by great monks, or those who had attained Nirvana. But as somebody unfortunate enough to be familiar with McGonagall, Azide concluded that this was instead the face of somebody whose brain cavity lay hopelessly vacant.

 
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"So now the guy thinks he's a damn hero..." Azide reflected. Though he certainly did not agree, he was willing to humor the bumbling oaf, as arguing otherwise would inevitably prove to be a lost cause. He had played the logic game with McGonagall many times before, and he had not miraculously solved it since the last occasion. With a brittle swing of his arm, and a reluctant smile, Azide made a half-hearted effort to play along. "Yeah, you're a real hero, McGonagall. A real lifesaver."

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McGonagall peered down at him, his expression shifting to a look of concern which evoked that of a reproachful father's. Sternly, yet softly, the towering man addressed his partner in a level tone. "You have to be careful, jumping into things like that. Not everybody can be a McGonagall; but luckily, McGonagall has enough McGonagall in him for the two of us," said McGonagall. This provoked a flash of disdain, followed by confusion in the eyes of his partner. That was enough McGonagalls for a lifetime- the name was beginning to lose its meaning with each time he heard it.

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Having heard enough, Azide turned away and gawked at the precipice from which they'd descended- one unwillingly, and the other almost equally so. From the looks of it, McGonagall was well enough by now to move on two legs, and even caused a bit of mayhem in a battle. Even still, he could not deny that the man's movements were off-balance, as if the effects of the fall had not quite worn off. It would be too dangerous to make an attempt at scaling the cliff-side with his partner's condition being what it was- he could only imagine the disastrous outcome that would occur if the man were to lose his grip and drop a second time.

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Contemplating their plan of attack, Azide decided to open his map, and did just that with a few taps of his finger. Moments later, a hovering image of the first floor flickered into being in front of him, and he zoomed into their own general area with an inverted pinch of his fingers. "So here we are in this canyon..." he muttered, pointing to two blinking blips on the screen. "And this is where we're supposed to go if we want to find a Bezoar," he continued, trailing his finger to a red X he had drawn before their departure.

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McGonagall clasped his hands together excitedly, and was nearly bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. "Oh, I just know this is going to be a great trip! I just love hiking," he exclaimed, looking as if he'd been told that the Pope was due shortly to meet him. It was an interesting image, to picture McGonagall standing next to the leader of over a billion men and women. In any case, McGonagall's giddiness gave the distinct impression that the man did not understand just how far off track they'd gotten in just the past twenty minutes or so.

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"Well that's just great... because we'll be doing plenty of walking," said Azide, highlighting their new route with a trace of his finger. Next to the original route he'd planned, which remained plotted in a friendly green, the revised red trail looked as if it might be several times as long. Even worse, their original route had been over nothing but grassy plains for upwards of ninety percent of the scheduled trip. In comparison, they would now be forced to navigate through the meandering valleys and canyons, being unable to leave on account of the great sloping walls.

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The other man's eyes widened, and his mouth opened in a dramatic gasp. McGonagall's hand shot up to provide cover for his gaping mouth, and he nearly squealed in the next instant. "Now wait just a minute there, buddy. You know what this means, don't you? Hint hint, it means wee'll be spending plenty of extra time together!" He grabbed at Azide with a bulging arm and drew the younger player into the crook, making it look as if the young man's neck had been placed into an unsightly medieval stock. Azide felt confident that such a maneuver was referred to more formally as a headlock, and that it was usually reserved for enemies and opponents, rather than friends or allies. Not that he considered them in the least bit as friends.

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Taking a moment to consider this, Azide stared long and hard at the cliff-side, and weighed the pros and cons of continuing the journey alone. On one hand, it would no doubt a far quicker and less painful ideal. On the other, McGonagall could potentially die out here by himself, and that would be a very bad mark on his own reputation indeed. In other words, he would quickly become a tough sell to clients as a reliable contractor, and he could expect to see profits decline by at least a half. He sighed, realizing that there was only a single way to go.

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"Hey McGonagall, give me a boost, would you?" he called, propping himself up against the rocky wall. True to his air-headed personality and questionable decision-making, McGonagall to his credit walked up without hesitation and lifted the smaller fellow onto his shoulders. "Knew I could count on you," remarked Azide, as he latched onto a protruding stone. Sure, he might lose business for a while, but he felt pretty sure that people would forget eventually. Would he feel guilty about his decision? Perhaps so, but that was nothing a bit of counseling couldn't fix.

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Slowly, but surely, Azide began the tedious task of climbing the incline. As he worked on making his way to the top, it occurred to him that this was significantly worse than his trip down- at least that particular feat hadn't required going out of his way to go even higher. As a result, he constantly reminded himself not to look down, though this came with the predictable side effect of reminding himself what it was that he was doing at the moment. Managing to find a point of support for his foot, Azide took the opportunity to push off of the rock to raise himself further up the wall, and making his arms and legs wobble quite a bit in the process.

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A trembled trickled down his arm, compelling Azide to take a deep breath before reaching out a second time. "Just a tiny bit further..." he thought, eyeing the protrusion that jutted out only slightly beyond his reach. Every movement of his hand brought his fingers enough to continuously graze the course surface, but to actually grasp the structure would be a bit of a stretch. In this case, that stretch would have to be quite literal, if he wanted to actually reach the top at some point.

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After a good while of struggling and flailing around helplessly, Azide breathed a sigh of relief as his hand gripped onto the next anchor point, and inched himself further up the wall with a great heave. Wondering if he'd finally made it up far enough to escape McGonagall's constant (literal) prodding, he glanced briefly over his shoulder, and his eyes nearly shimmied out of their sockets. If they hadn't been attached, he figured those orbs likely would have made a run for it there and then- if there had been anywhere to go from there but down. A tingling sensation which had previously been limited to his legs quickly took ahold of the rest of his body, and he could feel his finger shaking even as they clutched onto the tangles of firmly rooted vegetation.

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The easiest way to relate the sensation was that it was not dissimilar to a specific animation technique, where the camera would quickly zoom in and out, as if it were bouncing up and down at the end of an elastic cord. McGonagall looked like an ant from up here, and the long branch he had been carrying now looked like nothing more than the feeblest of twigs. He could've sworn a few clouds had passed by, but the more logical part of his brain reminded him that he was only high up relative to an indent in the ground. In other words, he he hadn't even attained ground level, let alone an atmospheric one.

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After muttering a few colorful words under his breath, he turned around and tried to clear his head. Yes, it had been exceedingly stupid to look down, but to be fair it had completely slipped his mind just how far he'd made it. So if anything, at least the journey was almost over. He craned his neck upward and allowed his eyes to focus, bringing the ledge into clear view. It looked further than it really was, but he knew this was only a visual trick caused by the angle- it wouldn't be too long before he could pull himself up.

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With the end in sight, he distracted himself by focusing on different things- such as funny jokes he'd been told since arriving in Aincrad. For example, he remembered somebody having who claimed to have won a year's supply of calendars. In fact, this was true- he had won a single calendar. From there, his mind drifted a certain all-nighter he'd spent months back in the snow. It had been a low point for him, but the memory had ended up leaving him feeling happier in the end. He wondered what she was doing right now, and if perhaps he should invite her for a bit of questing sometime...

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Deciding that this was neither the time nor place to be reminiscing on such topics, he instead recalled the quickly approaching boss fight. Having returned to the scene after a five month absence, he had missed the raid meeting by just a hair- but there was no doubt that he would be there. There were a multitude of reasons, of course; for starters, it was taking far too long to clear these floors. In order to make progress, these clearing efforts would require every man and woman capable of pulling their own weight, and he was prepared to do just that, and then some.

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Secondly, a part of him still felt obligated to redeem himself. From time to time, though he did not like to admit it, he still heard the mocking whispers. Even now, he could not be certain whether the cause was the mysterious void, or if they had emerged from the depths of his own psyche. Either way, he would not deny that a dormant guilt remained within him for his failure to appear before Yamato. He had abandoned the cause before, but he would not make that mistake again. Now that Square One's days had come to an end, there would be plenty of time for improvement, and he would never allow himself to forget that.

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As he reached up for another time, he was surprised to find that his hands met nothing but air. For a moment, it had puzzled him until common sense seized the reigns of his mind once more, pushing all other thoughts into the darkness. With the realization that he had made it starting to sink in, he moved his hand to a stable-looking point on the ledge. Using the last reserves of his energy, he managed to drag himself over by the skin of his teeth. Breathing heavily, but smiling nonetheless, he pulled himself to his feet and brushed the dust away from his clothes. "Hey, McGonagall, I made it!" he called, facing away from the edge. He'd had enough of that view for a lifetime. "Don't do anything stupid. On second though, don't do anything at all- I'll send for someone to pick you up on my way to the site."

A single step was as far as he got, before the ground crumbled out from under him. Before he could realize what had happened, he was falling. His hand shot out desperately, but found no recourse. All he could see was the sky, which had since grown clouded.

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