Huntgame
By Karen Hart
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy XII and all its related characters, settings, and trademarks are the property of Square Enix. No profit is made or intended by the posting of this fanfiction. I write these fanfictions for love of the game, nothing more.
"The quarry crosses the valley."
Asdalu stared at the board a moment before placing the white pebble that meant "hunter" on the edge, before pushing it toward the center and overtaking the black that meant "prey." "I follow, and strike."
The old garif seated across from him dipped his head to one side. "A simple strategy. You could do that, yes, but you would leave your own self vulnerable to predators on the hills." Asdalu grimaced, under the mask, and looked once more at the board. Goromu, even among garif, had never been an easy teacher. He had not been at it long, learning the art of strategy, but he did not seem to be picking it up, either. He thought.
He picked the white pebble up and moved it around two of the circles that represented hills. "I go behind the hunters and meet my quarry." This got him another sideward dip of the head. Asdalu began moving the pebble back to the starting point, wondering what error he had made.
"Wait." The pebble stopped. Goromu looked up, the slightest fraction, at the afternoon sky, then back at his pupil. "It is raining and Sylphi has revealed Itself. You are not safe." Asdalu started, hand suddenly clenching the stone, protective of his theoretical self. "I did not know this." He sensed Goromu's smile. "You did not ask."
Asdalu thought. Then: "Sylphi does not lash out unprovoked. I have not yet used them, but I will use no magicks near It."
"Wise. And in the meantime?"
"I resume my hunt. I weave my way along the inside of the hills." He pushed the white pebble along his new course.
The old garif tilted his head a moment, as he considered Asdalu's latest tactic. "Persistent. But the quarry has slipped away while you dealt with Sylphi. You do not know where it has gone." The black pebble was gone. Goromu held up a hand, one finger raised, before Asdalu could move his own pebble once again. "Think. You are too hasty. Think, and see, and listen."
Asdalu did just that, then. Four hills. Four hills and a valley between them all. There was rain—was there still rain?—and his quarry was gone. Four hills. A dozen paths to take, if one tried to follow them all, around and straight and winding. He heard the soft whistling of a flute that was old Sumini creating a new windsong, that song of passing seasons—new, because the visit by the hume girl and her companions boded imminent change, and while garif did not embrace change in themselves, they did not deny or ignore it in others. He heard the thunk of the butcher's knife as meat was prepared for the nightmeal.
A valley. Five of them. But that thought got him nowhere, so he looked out across the village, saw the sun-burnt grass clinging to the edge of the small, bridged cliffs, the slope of the hill he had to climb to reach his lesson. It was not so well-ordered as the game. He looked around again, not looking for anything (he at least knew better than that), but simply seeing. Young warriors trained near the river, tireless in their youth. A look up. The sun was sinking in the West. He looked down.
What had his error been, he wondered. Had he made an error? He thought back to his choices. Across had put him to the mercy of predators. Around the back had ended with a run-in with Sylphi, which, while he managed to keep himself safe, lost him his prey. Around the front made him finally realize that loss. He pondered the board. Four hills to choose from.
Only four?
He started, reached for the pebble before pulling his hand back. He thought. The board had four hills. The board represented the plain, though the plain, from all he had seen in his group-hunts, had no such configuration of hills.
Group-hunts and the plains. That was it.
Asdalu picked the pebble up and did not set it back down. "There are four hills here, but Ozmone has not merely four. I can search for new prey on the flats. But I came unprepared, with no companions, nor did I learn condition of the clouds or pay attention to the scent of rain on the air. I return to the village to gather other hunters, and correct my—" He paused, was silent a long moment before speaking again. "I see. I was not wrong. I could have crossed straight, or gone around. You never said that I was, only telling me what might happen." He set the pebble down on the starting point that meant the village, and waited for his teacher's answer.
It got him a sudden laugh, before Goromu stood up, lesson over. "Good, good! You will make hunt-leader yet!"