And if I catch it coming back my way

I'm gonna serve it to you

And that ain't what you want to hear

But that's what I'll do

Seven Nation Army - The White Stripes

A dull throbbing in my back pulls me awake. I haven't fully appreciated human bed technology until this very moment. Even the Marshals damned hyperthin air mattresses were better than this.

A yawn escapes me and I stretch widely. Besides the aches, I actually feel well rested. I sit up and glance about, noting with no small measure of pride that the first rays of light are peeking out from beyond the horizon. Zack leans against his tree with his head down. His hair covers his eyes so I can't tell if they are open or closed. Whether or not they are, his hands rest vigilantly upon the grips of his dischargers.

Ominous. I wonder how many people were felled because they thought that a sleeping opponent was a vulnerable one.

Casting my gaze about again, I fail to spot Leanna. Frowning, I raise myself to a stand, searching between the trees. Where did she go?

It isn't long before I have a lead. I hear a cry in the middle distance, sheltered from the view of our camp by a hill or two. I pick up my sword and go to investigate. After said hill or two, I see Leanna practicing in an open field. She grips her blade in a fighting stance, her face stern with concentration.

"Hyah!"

Her weapon swings through the air in a deadly arc, ending with a graceful spin. From the fluidity and accuracy of her motions, it is clear to me that she trained in this art for many years, perhaps even since her childhood. Her hair, long and unbound despite her helmet, whips about in mesmerising patterns, never seeming to blow in her face. As a breeze blows by, snatching at the strands, they dance out of the way with practiced ease. I somehow get the feeling that the same thing would happen should an opponent try to use Leanna's hair against her.

I would never have thought that the long, blond locks she is fond of would be anything less than a catastrophic concession in a battle, but it now seems that magic may have turned what may have been a nuisance into a weapon. In fact, said magic continues to aid her now, and her heavy plate and mail flows and shifts as though it isn't there, the slightest touch of sky blue surrounding it if I look closely.

Once she notices me, Leanna lowers her sword and waves. I proceed down the hill and into talking range. As I close, I notice an expression of some surprise and a slight bit of sheepishness.

"Oh sorry, did I wake you? I moved out here so I wouldn't disturb you."

"Your precautions were sufficient. I did not hear anything until I awoke and began searching. Obviously, I was worried about what the sudden vanishing of my only friend and guide here would mean."

"Gotcha."

"Poi!"

Glancing down at my feet, I spot the beaming form of Forest the pango. Leanna and I giggle.

"Looks like you guys are best friends already!"

"The best of friends!" I exclaim. "Isn't that right, Forest?"

The azure cluster of trees nods his head excitedly.

"Poi poi!"

I give Forest an affectionate pat, then return to a standing position, regarding Leanna. The beads of sweat that dot her temple indicate that she has been practicing for some time.

"Do you often begin mornings like this? I do sometimes, but only when someone will yell at me for not doing so."

Leanna nods in response.

"It helps me wake up and prepare for the day ahead. And, of course, it's become part of my routine so it just doesn't feel right when I don't do it."

"I know what you mean. Not being able to brush my teeth last night was so weird."

The night before I was pleased to discover that Terrans had some concept of personal hygiene, and provided what looked to be disposable wooden brushes for teeth, along with a basin and some kind of soap. It certainly tasted funny, but it helped put me at ease somewhat. The brushes were probably tomorrow's firewood, at least in part.

"I can't work on my projects either, not without access to a functional tablet."

"Right…"

Leanna looks somewhat dejected on my behalf. Her expression finally gets a point to land. For the past two days, my family and friends have likely been wondering where I am. The circumstances regarding my disappearance would point only to a deliberate kidnapping, and those are rare. By now they probably think I am in the custody of some large terror cell, and they won't be receiving any ransom demands. Not even so much as a note.

I haven't been worried about them because I knew where they were. How could I be so selfish that I'd only think of what I was seeing of them? Mum and dad have probably kicked local police divisions into action, and there'll be investigators up all night looking for leads that don't exist.

I need to get home as soon as possible.

But there isn't anything saying I'm not allowed to enjoy my time here. Besides, right in front of me, there is another person worried about me. Perhaps not as much as the others back home, but the awkward silence that has creeped in as a result of my statement can be remedied. One step at a time. If only for others, I can make myself have fun.

"That's alright, though. A new routine for my time on Terra will work just fine."

The sudden spark in my voice shakes Leanna out of her melancholic reverie.

"A new routine?"

"Yeah. My departure from Earth wasn't anyone's fault, Leanna. I'm human. Adaptation is what we do. And…"

I unsheathe my blade, sweeping my feet into one of the parade stances.

"...where better to learn a new routine than from someone with experience? This morning practice thing you've got going feels like a great place to start."

She grins, and I match it, though not for the same reasons. She's happy again. Good. I won't have anyone be sad as a result of me if I can help it.

"Considering how well you handled yourself yesterday for someone who said they had no training in combat, I'm curious to see how well this 'ceremonial protocol' of yours holds up."

My body hums with the familiar taste of adrenaline. My unconscious mind, trained to detect the warning signs, knows that a battle is about to occur. As I raise my weapon up to my shoulder, I feel a mysterious presence at the back of my mind. It remains silent, but I think I know what it would sound like if it spoke.

I have been mulling over the battle yesterday, still not quite understanding what the voice in my head was or why it was giving me advice. I have, however, reached the conclusion that it is to be trusted when it comes to swordplay.

I smirk.

"I am interested as well. How shall this be done?"

Leanna matches my fighting stance and raises her own sword. Her face is set in the expression of the naturally competitive and curious.

"Since you are somewhat capable with a blade, sparring will be the best way to gauge your skills!"

I feel the pre-battle tension in the air rise another notch as I tighten my grip on the sword.

"I may not be able to win, but with luck I might just impress you. Shall we?"

"Here I come!"

At that, Leanna dashes towards me, rapidly closing the distance between us. Her movements, despite being slower than what I saw during the bandit fight, are still in the upper ranges of what I would've thought possible in such attire. It would seem that she wishes to prolong the battle, and so forgoes her magic for a more fair fight. Fair, of course, still being in big, glowing airquotes.

Rather than dashing at her myself, I take up a defensive stance. She is used to having the upper hand in mobility thanks to her wind magic, and she will likely still have it. However, such a thing will have an influence on her style, one which I can exploit due to my lighter armour. The gap in speeds might not be so great as she is expecting.

Good. Analyse your opponent. Now, where will her first attack be coming from?

I watch her movements, looking for some kind of tell. Leanna is an experienced fighter, so it likely won't be obvious. So obscure, in fact, that I will likely not find it in the short time allotted to me. But perhaps I don't need to?

I shift my guard to the right ever so slightly, leaving the side that she will have an easier time striking open. I feel a buzz of approval at the back of my mind.

A decent stratagem. You will have to move quickly to pull it off, however. When she commit- NOW.

My weapon darts back to my left side, metal clashing against metal. There is a look of surprise upon Leanna's face, but she recovers rapidly, sending another blow my way before I can respond. With my sword hand still ringing, I duck and then leap back, resetting myself in the short window available.

Block, left down fore. You will have to-

My sword again meets her rising blow. As I expected, she is still faster than I am, even in heavy armour.

-move quickly to counter. Flick her blade left, then strike at her shoulder!

I do so, the manoeuvre interrupting her next attack and forcing her to recover. I retaliate before she can ready herself, bringing my weapon around in a tight, circular swing at her shoulder. She was overconfident, and now-

There is a clang as her weapon flickers into position, intercepting my attack with practiced ease. Behind her helm, I see fire flickering in Leanna's eyes. Not like the spellfire that signified her special sight, no. This was a variety I saw in many men and women. She seems… pleased that I was capable of such a thing.

You'll need to turn about!

Her blade and body whip around me, and I am on the defensive again. Again, I feel the shock of impact travelling up my arms as I brace myself against the ground. Leanna continues to hold her weapon as if she was fighting with magic, though her manipulator lacks its characteristic glow. One hand is all she needs to fend off my strikes.

Your sword will not be ready in time. Evade!

I dodge to the right as her blade comes down beside me, the cold metal touch of the flat scraping along my arm, and counter with a sweeping kick at her feet.

That's the spirit! I'm not the only weapon you should use in a fight!

'I'm'?

Focus!

While my kick did connect, the small window it created closed as soon as it opened, and the onslaught resumed. Blade twirling in her grasp, she aimed the flat at my stomach, hoping to knock the wind out of me. That would certainly spell the end for our little test. Moving my weapon in short, conservative strokes close to my body, I block the attack and its follow-up.

Try to get around her.

Shoving her sword out of the way, I dash past her, trying to reach an opening for a strike from behind. I am rewarded with a strike from behind, the flat of Leanna's blade sending me tumbling through the grass.

…! She can move faster? I would've thought… BLOCK!

I pick myself off of the ground, raising my blade just in time for it to shatter the momentum of her's. I push myself to a standing position, against the force of the parry, and then the fight continues.

It lasts only about a dozen or so strokes, when Leanna strikes from above.

From above! Angle right!

I hurriedly block with my sword, but stumble as it catches against the crossguard. With a neat motion, Leanna sweeps aside my blade, sending it flying into a nearby patch of grass, and I lose my balance, toppling onto my back.

I groan. My muscles have been pushed to the limit, incapable of any more bursts. My arms continue to shake from repeated strikes, and my mind is tired.

Well, at least I lasted a short while, I think, and made her stop pretending to be incompetent.

Over the course of this exercise, Leanna was occasionally surprised by something I did, usually by the direction of the voice-

I'm glad you see the value of my assistance.

-in my head. These moments always prompted her to dial up her available skill level. Every time I did something good, it merely increased the minimum competency I was permitted to use. Fighting Leanna was like doing a Beep Test. Yes, I was surprised to when I found out that that thing is over two hundred years old. Run fast? Great! Now run faster!

Leanna kneels down beside me. I note very few signs of exhaustion, and it seems like she could quite easily go from this to dispatching an army. It is infuriating, but I bury that. I'm in training, essentially. Of course she is going to be better than me. She speaks.

"Your fundamentals are fairly good, but as you said, you do seem to lack experience. I noticed something strange, though. You seemed far more capable of predicting my movements than you should for someone of your caliber. Would your training have focused on that?"

"Not in the slightest. As an officer, I am expected to use a blade for salutes and little else. Combat with swords was not taught. Besides," I say with the attempted smile of an exhausted person, "I'd say that 'Your fundamentals are fairly good' is higher praise than I expected coming from you."

She smiles, trying to brush off the praise before extending a hand to help me to my feet. Then, her puzzled expression returns.

"Then why would that sort of thing stand out? Accurate predictions like yours only come from experience, and are preceded by years of learning to fight. What else could explain it?"

"Maybe the voice in my head telling me what I should be doing?"

She blinks, trying to determine whether I am being serious. After waiting for my straight face to crack for about thirty seconds, she gives up.

"It would be better if I could watch you spar with someone else. That way, I could see your movement from different angles and give you better feedback."

"Well, unless the pango can use a sword, our only option for that is Zack. Is he awake yet?"

I glance about and, to my surprise, spot Zack leaning against a tree closer to our sparring location. He watches us with his arms crossed. How long has he been there?

Leanna rushes over to him.

"Zack!"

"Hm?"

"Would you be willing to duel him as practice?"

She points to me.

"I'd like to get a better look at his technique."

He merely stares at her.

"Oh… right. You'll need a blade."

Leanna hands her weapon to Zack. He takes it, turning it over to inspect it.

"What are the rules of the duel?"

"Standard spar, be the first to knock your opponent to the ground."

Zack nods and heads out to the field, taking up a position annoyingly far away from me. As Leanna returns to a location near me, we share a glace. That was easier than I was anticipating.

Maybe it just isn't in a mercenary's nature to back down from a fight… even a fake one.

"Are you two ready?"

I shift into a proper stance across from Zack and ready my blade.

"Acknowledged. I am prepared to engage."

Zack continues to stand there. I look at Leanna again and she just shrugs. Finally, he nods.

"Okay, begin!"

I advance slowly, taking note of the fact that he isn't closing on me. He's probably doing the same thing I was, looking to fight me on-

Cross-slash, centre of mass. NOW!

Startled, I bring the sword in a sweeping arc across my chest as I hear a distant thunderclap, prepared to hit nothing. As expected, there is no resistance… wait. I felt something. A violet burst of energy sparks along the edge of my blade before being absorbed completely.

That. was. AWESOME! I think, examining my weapon. If I could manage that-

And suddenly I'm on the ground, staring up with the wind knocked out of me and an aching pain in my chest. I groan, trying to stand up, and succeeding on my second attempt. The two of them are looking at me from the same positions, with Zack nonchalantly holding his weapon, and Leanna appearing shocked.

"Strange, I thought he'd last at least two hits."

"Zack!" Leanna's voice has an unfamiliar bite of anger in it. I am suddenly struck with a desire to never instigate that particular tone.

Zack doesn't seem aware that what he did was wrong.

"What?"

"Why did you use your discharger?!"

"Why not?"

Leanna steps forward.

"The whole point was to have a sword match with him!"

"You didn't list that as a rule."

The frustration is evident in her voice.

"Why else would I give you my sword?"

"Why did you give me your sword?"

"For you to use in the duel!"

She snatches her blade back from Zack and heads over to me.

"Are you hurt?"

I think of just saying that it's already going away. Whatever that was, it is low power and mostly seems to just cause pain. However, I have a better idea.

I collapse onto the ground, producing the most tortured, fake groan I can imagine.

"So… this is what it feels like to be emasculated… twice in succession."

I drift my gaze past Leanna and to the blue sky behind her.

"At least the view is nice."

Leanna smiles a little.

"Alright, get up."

"Can't. I'm dead."

She rolls her eyes and offers me a gauntleted hand. Knowing that it is time to stop, I accept it, returning to my feet.

"Seriously, though, it isn't really that bad. Those things must have some kind of power setting."

Zack calls out to us.

"The one and only lesson you need to know when fighting is this: do whatever it takes to win."

As soon as he is done speaking, Zack turns around and heads back towards the campsite.

Well, at least I have confirmation that I was right. That sounds exactly like what the angsty, badass character archetype would say. Leanna huffs.

"Mercenaries can be so annoying sometimes."

Weeeell… yes, sort of.

"I concur. That kind of slippery slope mentality is at best irritatingly callous and at worst outright malevolent. However… mercenaries take on all sorts of jobs. These would include very disagreeable ones, meaning Zack could simply be one of the refuse collectors of Havengarde's security."

She looks over at me as I continue.

"Those sorts of tasks influence one's battle ethics, as you're unlikely to meet honourable opponents. During the first phases of the Great War, some humans would try to treat or rescue downed Enemies, and were often killed for it later. When your opponent refuses to play by the rules to the degree that playing by them yourself means that you're marked for death, you stop."

"That's true…"

"On the other hand, however, it really should've been obvious what the point of this process was."

Leanna nods.

We pack up our things and clean up the campsite. Then, we continue on our journey. As we walk, I notice a comfortable silence descend upon us. Zack lingers behind Leanna and I in a manner I now expect, while Forest gazes outwards from his usual spot on my head. The natural world around us is peaceful and I spend my time simply taking in the sights. I'm a little impatient, but Leanna said back at Meadowhill that we were a few days from Illumia. Perhaps I should re-gauge what I'll be able to do next.

"So, where's our next stop?" I ask.

"We'll be stopping at Raven Pass to restock and spend the night. If we continue to make good time from there, we should reach Illumia by midday tomorrow."

Right, then. It is a very good thing that I've started to slip into military posture. Two more days of constant walking would've done a number on civilian Alasdair. Nodding, I return the world into silence.

After a little while, I add earbuds, and listen. A luxury I intend to enjoy, as normal marches wouldn't have it. I remain alert for anything beyond my little world, but for the most part lose myself in the melody. Things like this are great distractions.

I take a deep breath as I again have to rationalize death. Then, as the thought is banished following a few minutes of war, I relax. If I focus, this place isn't too bad.

A/N: Looking through the limited pantheon of Crystalline MCs, it seems apparent that most of them block Zack's first discharger round. Given that I produced this chapter before I was aware of any such community, it is an interesting trend to say the least. Maybe it's a result of wanting your OC to be more awesome than the original MC, in which case the best distinguishing features I can hope for are maintaining the balance of power, and changing the abilities of Alasdair here in interesting ways. It's certainly better than the previous draft, where his deflecting madness has him win... ugh. Me from the past needed to learn something about power creep before putting this on the interweebs.

Given that it's one of the main breaks from form within the original story of Crystalline, I am very interested in seeing what people think of the sword. I like it a lot better as the reason for MC's rapid growth in melee combat, but it has consequences, and maybe some of you wish for the good old days of knowing some Kendo.