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"Tadpole," said the not so great master, "you can never defeat
me. You are just too wimpy. And slimy. Why do you keep trying?"
"Because," the student replied "the fight is what defines me. What
makes me exist. In the words of Grand-Master AMystery 'I fight,
therefore I am.' " The not-so-great master pondered this profound
statement. "Your training for today is over. Meditate. Tomorrow,
you embark on a journey."
The student was almost too excited to meditate, and it was
well after midnight before she achieved the Void. "What could the
Master mean, 'tomorrow, you embark on a journey?'
"
Dawn arrived, and with it the student's apprehension grew. She
had never traveled beyond the walls of the temple. She tried to
wait patently for the Master to arrive, yet those few minutes after
dawn were the longest of her life.
The Master eventually arrived, explaining that the coffee
machine was down and so he had had to pick and grind his own beans.
"What of this journey I am to make?" asked the student. "Ahh yes
tadpole. You are to travel forth from this temple, and seek out the
only one who can further your education, the immortal warbird,
Reykjavik. If you survive the encounter, and he is in a good mood,
he will teach you the unstoppable skills of the
gods.
Unsure of her skill, yet knowing this moment would change her
life, the student left the temple, and began the long journey to
Reykjavik's temple, high upon Mt. Reyk.
She passed humble villages filled with friendly people, each
more willing to rob her than the last. From this part of the
journey she learned that all were her enemies, and only her swords
remained loyal.
There were mighty rivers to ford and great chasms to leap.
Through it all she kept her gaze fixed upon the ever increasing
visage of Mt. Reyk. As she walked this path, her muscles became
firm, and her resolve was strengthed by constant attention to the
infinite might of Reykjavik. He would teach her, she knew he would.
And deep in her mind, she promised, if he wouldn't teach her, she
would kill him.
At night she slept naked beneath the stars, for the
not-so-great master had made it clear she could take nothing with
her except her weapons. And he had meant it. In the light of the
risen sun she walked onward, for three nights and two days. And on
the third day she reached the base of Mt. Reyk. Now, she thought,
surely the hard part of my journey is complete. As she reveled in
these innocent thoughts, her gaze drifted upwards, and her relief
turned to fear, as she spied the sheer granite wall which
confronted her.
That night she slept fitfully at the base of the mountain, her
dreams filled with troubling images of large walls, and small
tadpoles plunging from them. The morning came just as she achieved
peace, but she had no choice but to arise and begin the long climb,
to either her doom, or her greatest
reward.
Surprisingly enough, the climb was not that difficult. There
were few handholds, but they were spaced at just the right distance
to allow her to climb quickly and easily. She reached the summit by
nightfall, and there, under the light of a full moon, the student
saw the most incredible fight. It appeared that a giant bird (whom
she assumed to be Reykjavik) was simultaniously fighting several
other gods, whose identities she could only guess at. All around
him lights exploded, great weapons of titanic distructiveness
rended the night, and though it all, Reykjavik remained
undisturbed.
As the student was pondering this strange method of fighting,
Reykjavik begin to move. It was only a blur, but suddenly one of
the attackers was lying on the ground, his life force already gone.
Another was realing, presumably from the feather protruding from
his chest. The final god was surrounded by a whirlwind that was
rapidly tearing it apart. The entire action only took a few
seconds, yet in that time, Reykjavik had killed two gods and
mortally wounded a third. At this point Reykjavik noticed his
spectator. Instantly he was upon her, feathers bristling at the
intrusion.
The student, already shocked, was now terrified. She was not
sure what would happen next, but after her long journey, she was
determined to at least ask. "Please oh great and mighty Reykjavik,"
the student begged. "I have traveled far and long to seek your
guidance. My not-so-great master has decried that he can teach me
no more, and that the only remaining step is to learn your
unstoppable attacks."
At this Reykjavik was pleased, and invited the student to
begin her training. "First slime ball, you must taste the blood of
your enemies. You must take it within you, and learn to treasure
its warmth." With these words he directed her to the mortally
wounded god, the feather still penetrating his chest. "Remove the
feather, and drink of his life essence. Once you are sated, sleep.
Tomorrow you will learn my secrets."
The student drank, and the blood made her sleepy. She fell
asleep with Reykjavik perched nearby, watching. In the morning her
greatest trial began. The student learned to dive, to fling, and to
blast her enemies into oblivion, and she learned a rumor that there
was still another level of violence which she could exact once her
mastery of the others was complete. She studied hard and as the
night fell on that long day, she had rediscovered herself through
the dance of battle, and as she drifted into an exhausted sleep,
she was glad Reykjavik had consented to teach her, and she had not
had to kill him.
-story by
Amystery
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