October 23rd, 2023

5:00 AM EST

Alastar

Alastar stared at the old man, wondering what was going on. “First lesson? What in the world is going on here? I don’t think you understand, but I have been dealing with this entire situation for far too long now. I don’t know why or what you are saying.”

“You opened my book.” The old man said, poking Alastar again in the side with his toe. “So you are going to take my lessons, or else we’re going to have a problem with eachother. You don’t want to have that do you?”

“I don’t get it. This is everything I’ve ever wanted and it has to be turned into studying, into work?!” Alastar sat up, still groggy from the attempts he’d made at understanding the book until he passed out. “I’ve been out of school for nearly a year now, I didn’t come into the apocalypse to be lectured at!”

“That’s not something to be proud of, boy.” The old man said, walking away to the other side of the clearing. “You came to me, and that means the system and it’s gods sent you to me. You had better listen or so help me I’ll whoop ya a good one.” He sighed. “Listen, in my culture they say that you learn every day of your life, why should this be any different.”

Alastar stood, growling. “That means you have more to learn. Maybe I should find a different master, huh?” He stomped after the old man. “I’m not going to take the advice of some old man who wants to turn this into a goddamn training montage. I’m an academic, not a cultivator.”

“You’re a cultivator now, bucko, and you’ll be stuck with it. Keep your chin up.” The old man absently moved his cane and slammed it into Alastar’s Knees, destabilizing him and making him fall down. “You really need to keep your balance in life and beyond. Everything about you is out of focus, I can’t even understand what you are trying to do. I don’t know why you want to be here, but you have to be now. That’s the curse, now buck up and deal with it.”

“Fuck you old man.” Alastar said, jumping up and running at the old guy. He was quickly destabilized again and knocked over. “Too scared to do knife work?” Alastar asked, spitting blood to the ground.

“Nope. I’m too scared for your life.” The old man walked again, sitting down on a stump. “Now, sit down and listen to me.” He began to whittle a piece of wood, going quiet for several minutes while Alastar calmed down.

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“Okay, I’ll listen.” Alastar said, sighing and sitting in the grass.

“Okay, look. The knife is not the way of a soldier, a fighter, or a general. The knife is only used by assassins, woodsmen, and those who are caught with their pants down. Which are you?” The old man pointed the knife at Alastar.

“The latter, I guess. I don’t know, I just grabbed what I knew was available and ready.” He sighed, looking away. “I guess I hoped that I could like… use it with magic. Lots of times, people who end up with weird weapons become well known. There’s a whole trope in my world, tied to the use of scythes and rakes as weapons, because that’s all some were allowed.”

“I know what you mean, but the knife… the knife is closest to the body, the closest to a person other than just being one’s hands.” The old man gestured at his hands. “Tell me what you see.”

Alastar stared at the old man’s hands. They were old, wrapped in some old bandage-like cloth. It was hard to tell if they were actually bandages or the kind of hand wraps used in many fighting scenes and shows. The only things the old man held were the small block of wood and the knife. It was a solid knife, a simple straight blade, and the handle that fit perfectly to his hand. It had no guard, no adornment, just simple.

“Your blade is simple. It’s not made to be all special and golden. It’s not something of legend, or the kind of magical object we show in stories of my world. It just is.” Alastar said, doing his best to describe it well.

“Correct.” The old man, and a sense of accomplishment washed over Alastar. “But that isn’t all, look deeper.” The sense of accomplishment suddenly dropped.

“Deeper, how can I look at this?” Alastar asked, trying to just move closer to examine it. Suddenly his mana sight activated and he was able to see mana flows again. “Oooh, that’s what you mean.” He said, looking at the old man’s mana network.

The network of mana looked like veins, the networks of magic that can be seen in eastern diagrams. It didn’t look quite like the systems of Chi in Chinese diagrams, and instead looked more like the diagrams of prana from the hindu versions of the same networks. “Your mana, it flows from multiple places in your body. Your head, heart, gut… It’s not just a single core like I might expect.”

“Very true.” The old man said. “But look at the knife again.”

Alastar did so, looking down at the arms and the veins of mana that guided down the old man’s arms, just like expected, but didn’t stop. The lines of mana, the system and network went into the knife, ending right at its point. “Your weapon, it’s a true extension of you. You aren't just saying that like some cheesy fortune cookie.”

“I… I don’t know what that means.” The old man looked confused. “My translation skill may not be enough for your idioms. In any case, the point is correct. I am a knife master, though I am still learning. My knife and my body are one in the same, on a conceptual level.”

“I… Okay.” Alastar sighed, standing up.

“Good boy. We’re going to start with how to hold the blade…”