《The Feline Faction》Vol III: ch 2: The Purging Of One's Self
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AN: well, this is a problem, now isn't it? i just can't seem to stop writing.
so, since this will be the second chapter today, i'll make it a bit shorter than usual. i really meant to put this in the last chapter, but, well, i got distracted by innuendos. for three hours.
in-your-end-os. LOL!
don't make fun of me... please... i'm not this way on purpose...
jk, it's totally on purpose. and if you want to read what i write, you'll just have to deal with it, and hopefully get a laugh or two in between. (the other reason i'm posting another chapter today is because i haven't filled my violence quota, and i need to. otherwise i start sleepwalking, and when i wake up, well... lets just say you don't want to go on a camping trip with me, in the woods, by a river, where no one will find you body. :D)
the music will come later, for now, just words.
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whew, getting away from kat had been tough, but luckily i had survived.
now i just need to find a way to get to the capitol of the kingdom in a timely fashion...
what'll you do when you get there?
...
you haven't thought that far?
well...
oh well, it wouldn't be fun any other way.
i grinned. in terms of a talking sword, i think finding Azariah was the best possibility. now i just need to figure out how to use it...
'it'? i do have a name, you know.
well, yeah, but when i'm reffering to you in the third person-
really?
i'm confused. how do you want me to refer to you?
i think i heard it sigh. whatever. i don't care. just call me 'he' or 'she'. being called an it makes me feel like an object.
okay. then, how do i use you?
i don't know. why don't you ask Jordan? he knows a bunch of stuff, doesn't he?
i don't think he knows how to wield a sword.
he/she grumbled, muttering unflattering things about Jordan. then i got an idea.
i slowed my running, and looked for a good spot.
what are you doing?
looking for a good spot to practice with you.
she/he seemed baffled. why would you need to practice with me? just swing, and swing some more, right?
i did a mental face-palm. did i really lose to someone like this? then i got another idea. it had to do with the workings of the world, and past experience.
i flicked my earring, bringing Black Moon into physical form. i took a closer look at it.
the handle was long enough for both hands, but the blade was somewhere in between a two-hander and a one-hander.
a hand-an-a-half then.
what? handjob?
what's that?
oh. right. your 'innuendo' thing.
i started hearing the banging again. what i meant, was that this sword was meant to be used with one hand and a shield, or two hands, with the wielder being able to freely switch between. but... for some reason i couldn't explain, that seemed like the wrong answer.
https://youtu.be/-U98qkjbYek
i finally found a spot that looked like it could work. i went to that place, and looked around. nothing but maple trees, and the moon up above.
i retreated into my own mind, hiding my thoughts, and going into a meditation like trance.
*inhale*
i lifted Black Moon, it's dark surface absorbing the moonlight, and fell into a sword form.
"Trimming the bamboo shoots."
i began the salutation, finally bringing the sword up to my face, griped in both hands. and began the form.
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ninety degrees to the right, disemboweling a phantom only i could see, 270 degrees to the left, stopping an opponents swing. a kick to the solar plexus, and slashing their throat as they stumble away. reversing the blade, and twisting a hundred and eighty degrees to my left, sweeping with my sword at knee hight, the strike that gave the form it's name. i continued, broad sweeps and sharp pivots. twist, swing, step and-
i stopped. i released the breath i was holding violently, feeling horrible.
why did you stop!? i was having fun!
"this isn't right.
what the hell do you mean?! just keep going! i was this close to losing control and actually enjoying myself!
i shook my head. "it feels wrong, swinging you like this. i need something different. perhaps..." i walked over to a tree, and drew some water from it, using mana to extract all the moisture from it. when that was complete, i formed the water into a blade, and cut the tree down. then, i made myself a shield. it was a crude, kite shaped one, but a shield none the less.
i walked back to the center of the clearing, i held both items up, and began anew.
"Piercing The Hare."
i stepped into guard position, bringing black moon to my side. i snapped into movement. this form was violent, and jerky. the sword would snap to and fro, while the shield would seem to cover my entire body at once, even though it was only a bit bigger than a platter. stab, step forward and slam your shield into the opponents body, disorientating them. cleave them from pelvis to shoulder, and turn your back on the halved enemy. block an overhead, then step forward and knee, bringing your sword back for the finisher!-
i stopped.
what the fuck is it this time!?
"wrong." i whispered.
what's wro-
"wrong wrong wrong! none of this is right."
i went back to the middle of the clearing, my mind oblivious to azariah's shouting, asking me what was wrong.
one after another, back to back, i did my katas. Thinning the rope, Catching the Ring, nothing worked! as i exerted my body, i started to sweat. then pore. then it felt like rain. i soon stood in a puddle of my own effort, paying it no head. i didn't slip in it, simply accommodating it into my forms.
one. after. another. form after form, kata after kata, sequence after sequence, nothing worked! black moon felt awkward in my hands, and the swings seemed clumsy and weak to me. no matter that cuts started appearing on the trees around just from the wind force created from my swings, it seemed like a fraction of what i was capable of. what i should, be capable of.
i panted, heaving. hours had passed. maybe even days. the sun had come up once or twice, i think. i was falling on my feet. i felt dizzy, my legs felt like fresh coals, and my arms had lost all feeling entirely. i no longer did forms, no, i had exhausted my repitoire after two days. now, i simply swung. i flowed from one style to another, seemingly a fish going from one pool to the next, without a single pause. no matter that i felt as if every move i made would be my last, no matter that i had long since stopped sweating, as i had gotten dehydrated. i. won't. stop!
i started doing multiple styles at once, combining eastern strikes with western swings. as i did, i started doing something i had never done before.
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i started discarding them.
one. after. another. a style i had picked up after three months of back breaking work to master it, and i made myself forget all but one part of it.
i went through, judging, measuring, taking every part i didn't like, and destroying it. i forgot everything. or, mostly everything. i rejected strikes my master had spent weeks drilling into me, just removing them. and i moved, not using a style, not doing a form, not using any named strike.
i used techniques, but they weren't techniques made by masters. no. they were made by me.
i made my own style of sword fighting. i took the best from every style known to man, and crushed it together. then, i started throwing out the best. i condensed, taking everything i had learned in my previous life, and throwing it away.
i no longer live in that world. i live here now. so far, i've been telling myself that this is all a delusion, created by a troubled mind. it's not. before, i thought 'if this is a delusion of my mind, then my knowledge will be key to conquering it.
wrong.
i can just do as i have before, and everything will turn out how i want it.
naive.
"i can treat the people here as pawns, and all will be well. i don't have to care about the people in my delusion, i don't have to care about anything."
stupid.
"these delusions 'feelings' are fake. they don't mean anything."
ignorant.
"if i die, no one will care."
the voices in my head whispered that this is true. but one voice...
yes! your doing it! i can't believe it! thank you!
one voice called out to me, and i remembered.
a promise.
"will you love me?"
i had answered. what did i answer? why do i think this voice would care if i died? didn't i make a promise? didn't i? DIDN'T I?!
what did i say?
yOu SaId nO. yoU deNieD iT. No oNe lOveS You, AnD yoU LovE nO oNe.
no.
yEs! yesYEsYeysyseYSeySyeYSeySeyesyYSE
no, not that. he is not an it. she is a person. azariah is not someone you can just throw away!
giVe uP! GivE Up! tHoW iT AwaY!
SHE, IS NOT, AN IT! HE IS A PERSON, AND I WON'T LET YOU SAY DIFFERENT!
i made a promise. when someone asked me to love them, i said yes. why? why did i say yes to such a tough question?
because, dummy, you want to be loved just as much.
yes. that's right. i was asking the same question that i answered, wasn't i?
ha ha! i can't believe it took you this long. you really are a doofus. also, you can stop saying i'm he/she.
but i can't just call you-
that's not what i meant. i'll tell you in the morning, just make sure to sleep tight.
what do you-
all thoughts left my mind as my body fell to the ground.
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i woke up.
"wow, you can really sleep!"
i tried to blink, and raise my arms, but the effort of opening my eyes was too much. "is that you, Azariah?"
i felt an impact on my forehead. it hurt. "who else would i be, dummy."
i grumbled a bit, but couldn't help a smile from coming onto my face.
man i love my sword...
"yeah you do, now get up sleepy head!"
i felt a sharp kick in the waist, and groaned, rolling over and holding my abused midsection. "what was that for?!"
"for not obeying my commands, wimp-slave.
i've been demoted to wimp-slave now?
"that's what i just said, ain't it?"
i put my hands beneath my center of weight, and pushed with everything i had. i still fell on my back.
i felt the vibration of azariah walking around me. finally, he/she leaned down, and lifted my pelt.
"hmmmm, not bad. but mine's still bigger."
i looked down the length of my body, and saw my doppelganger holding my skirt-like pelt up, so he/she could look up it.
"what do you mean, your's is bigger? your exactly the same as me."
my sword looked smug, and proudly lifted her/his own pelt, revealing the whole of my own anatomy.
"oh. wow, your's really is bigger."
"told ya, didn't i? though, you never had a chance to begin with, since i can freely alter my form."
"huh. oh, that reminds me, how are you out here?" i checked our surroundings to make sure, but it was still the real world, and not the inner one that i had fallen in when i had first met azariah. "i didn't know you could take physical form."
she/he seemed irked. "i can't, not really. i just learned how to appear to you. to everyone else, i'm invisible. though, a strong enough wizard could probably sense me..."
that was interesting. then a thought struck me. "hey right before i blacked out, you said you had something important to tell me. what was it?"
my sword got very red in the face, then grinned. "you mean you can't remember?"
now i felt irked. "remember what?"
my sword burst out laughing. "and? do you remember anything else from before you blacked out?"
i was starting to get suspicious. "no... why?"
"hahahahahaahaha! this is too good!"
i was starting to get annoyed. "spit it out."
my sword was slapping it's knee, laughing my guts out. "ha! ha! ho, ho, ho, i'm calm, i'm calm."
"are you really?"
"yeah. anyway, what you forgot, was a tiny bit important."
"oh? and what was it?"
it looked like my sword was trying to hold a school of goldfish in his/her mouth. "just the entirety of the new style you created out of scratch."
everything fell deathly silent. my sword looked like it was exerting extreme willpower to not burst out laughing.
"i forgot what?"
she/he spoke like he/she was trying to keep the school of fish in her/his mouth. "you forgot the entire style you custom tailored just for the use of me, and the other important thing i told you-BWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
looks like my sword had been keeping a school of clown fish in his/her mouth.
wait, did i just make a joke?
i paused, making sure that was the case. then i laughed too. at the pure stupidity of my having forgotten the style of swordsmanship i had crafted over three days of constant practice and refining.
then my stomach rumbled.
that's new...
ah. that's right. i'm an agrias, and it's been about a month since i've last eaten...
"though, i guess not everything is lost. you should really deal with that glowy blue thing."
i looked up, and there was a glowing blue box.
the necessary requirements have been met. would you like to learn the job -Demon-swordsman-
"huh. didn't expect that... yes."
the blue box disappeared, and i stretched. for some reason, it felt kinda strange to stand up...
"oh, and another thing. apparently, you 'evolved' right before you blacked out. what doe's that mean?"
i took a look at myself. the red tattoos that seemed drawn in blood had received a companion. black and purple lines also seemed to swirl like ribbons over my body, interlocking and making runes, circles, and strange patterns, making my eyes feel lost just looking...
i snapped out of it. i looked up at my sword, waiting expectantly.
i smiled. not the one that i used when i laughed, or the one i had when i was around my friends and no one was looking.
i had evolved, and gained a new job. even if i had forgotten the style i had created, i got the feeling it would come back to me. till then...
"Let's go hunting!"
well... i tried to make it shorter. it's the thought that counts, right? right?
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