Judeau took a deep breath and calmly let it out, noting with some surprise that it didn't form a little cloud before his face. The pale grey pre-dawn light made the endless, rolling plains all around look so barren and cold - as if the silvery frost was more than just a subtle threat in the air.

But that threat was still chilly enough to invigorate Judeau's sleep-heavy body, and he flexed his joints in anticipation. After riding hard for days - starting early and stopping late with few and short pauses in between - and getting up even earlier today, he felt a little bit stiffer than he would have preferred for his first lesson with the Crusader.

On the other hand, he had worked under worse conditions in the past. That wasn't really what he was feeling apprehensive about.

He looked over at Steelwing who, after having prodded the scout awake, had withdrawn to sit before the cooking-fire, and was now slowly stirring the small cauldron with a wooden spoon. Judeau paused for a brief moment, then walked over to sit down next to him, trying to study the Crusader's unexpressive face.

"So... Good morning, Steelwing. I thought we were going to train?"

Steelwing nodded, without looking up. His voice was as dispassionately flat as always:

"We are. But we must eat first: An empty stomach makes learning difficult."

"Okay." Judeau gave the elf a slightly confused look. "But yesterday..."

"Yesterday I was testing you, not teaching you. The added stress of hunger worked in my favour."

Judeau felt his eyebrows twitch at that. Well, thanks for being so straightforward about it, I guess...

Steelwing did not look away from the little cauldron, but after a while he spoke again.

"So, do you remember our little conversation yesterday, Mr Judeau?"

"Yes."

"And have you found your purpose?"

"...Yes. I believe so."

"Good." Steelwing finally took his eyes off of their gently simmering breakfast, but only to feed the fire another log. "Make sure to always keep it clearly in your mind, but do not tell me about it. Some Sword's Masters prefer to know so that they can better help to motivate their students, but I do not. I feel that a student who can not motivate himself is not true Sword's Master material, and will not be able to learn regardless. It may seem harsh, but that is my way."

"No, that's okay, I understand."

Judeau was actually feeling a little relieved - he wasn't too sure that he would have been able to put his reasons into words if the Crusader had asked him to.

They sat in silence for a while, watching the small flames and the slow, calculated movements of the wooden spoon through the watery mush. Judeau's stomach finally seemed to realise that he had woken up, and subtly reminded him of its needs. In instinctive response, the scout took a strip of dried meat from the opened bag of provisions and chewed it thoughtfully as he waited for better sustenance.

When the Crusader was finally satisfied with the state of the porridge, he served both Judeau and himself before speaking again.

"This training," he began, "Will focus mainly on the mental aspects of sword mastery. Your physical skills are more than adequate, and any further such training will come more or less automatically as we practise. This is how we are going to do this: First I will tell you what I want you to learn - and I recommend you to ask every question you can think of so that I know that you have fully understood. Then we spar and train until you feel you have a basic grasp of the technique, and then we will move on to the next lesson - but you will continue to implement the things you've already learnt until you no longer have to think about doing it. Do you understand this?"

Judeau nodded, quickly swallowing a mouthful of hot porridge and almost burning his tongue on it.

"Ho!" He coughed, but quickly recovered. "Yes, I'm with you. I understand." Steelwing merely raised an eyebrow, possibly in annoyance, at the gasping scout before continuing:

"Good. I do not wish to explain such a basic thing again." Then the Crusader paused and looked down into his own warm gruel in thoughtful concentration, as if going over something with himself.

"All right," he finally said - slowly and carefully, as if still pondering which words to use. "I will tell you about the two first techniques right now. Two at once, because they are of equal importance and you must learn them both at the same time - and you will learn about them now because they must be the first and last things you ever learn, if you are to become a Sword's Master. I will teach you many things, Mr Judeau, but none as important as these two. You must have a true understanding of them both if you are to fully benefit from any of the techniques I will teach you. Everything else stands and falls with this. Are you... clear with this?"

Judeau, moved by Steelwing's seriousness, just nodded. The Crusader dipped his chin in an ever-so-slight nod of approval.

"Very well then. These two can be called insight and acceptance. I will now explain them, so listen carefully."

He paused again, looking down into his bowl with the slightest thoughtful frown on his face. Judeau took another mouthful of porridge as he waited.

"Your insight," the Crusader began, "must be into your opponent as well as yourself, and it must be this: There is no such thing as perfection. Do compare your skills, and do recognise that he might be faster, stronger or more experienced than you, but never admit that he is better than you. This thought will paralyse you, cripple you, and you will lose - simply because you expect to."

Steelwing paused for a moment, and Judeau found himself listening intently. This was something he had heard before, but with the cold seriousness that the Crusader had instilled in it, it was suddenly making sense in a completely new way. Seemingly unaware of the attentive silence, Steelwing continued.

"Focus instead on finding his weaknesses. Everyone has them, including myself - and there is no doubt in my mind that even mighty Sword's Master Variol or Anders Silverblade the saint had theirs. There is no perfect technique, no flawless weapon-wielder." Steelwing cut himself off and seemed to consider something for an instant.

"The only possible exception would be if Thyr himself stepped down into the world, but frankly I doubt it. It is simply not possible for anyone to be perfect in every move, every turn of battle. Find your opponent's flaws and exploit them without mercy. He will try to find yours."

"I get that," Judeau interrupted - he couldn't help himself. "And the second part of this insight is about being aware of my own flaws and trying to cover or compensate for them, right? But isn't that kind of what all sword fighting is about? 'Take the other guy down as fast and effectively as possible and don't let him get to you?'"

Not in the least perturbed by the interruption, Steelwing nodded solemnly.

"Indeed it is. But most people still need training in this, the most obvious of things. They assume that they know and understand it when in fact they do not - It is remarkably often that a failure of insight is what brings about the end of an experienced fighter, who really should know better. You are no exception, Mr Judeau."

Judeau raised his eyebrows in an unspoken question, but the Crusader calmly took a mouthful of porridge and ate without haste. Certain that he would get an explanation eventually, Judeau clamped down on any impatience and ate some more as well.

Finally, Steelwing turned to face the scout again.

"One of your flaws, which I have exploited myself, is your tendency to admit weakness. If you find someone to be superior to you in any way, you rather instinctively assume a subordinate position to him. If you are to improve in any way you need to achieve awareness of and stop that kind of behaviour: Treat every opponent neither as your superior nor your peer, but as your inferior. Find their flaws. Go into every battle thinking that you can and will win - But you must do that without getting cocky and underestimating your adversary instead. That is a difficult balance, but if you do not achieve it you will never become a Sword's Master, and you will die by your own weakness."

Judeau found himself locked in an internal struggle. He wanted to protest, to tell the Crusader that he had the wrong idea there, but something was holding him back. He knew that if he was to gain the level of skill that he wanted, he had to listen to Steelwing and take his advice to heart... and if he thought really honestly about it, the elf's description of this major and quite possibly lethal character flaw hit uncomfortably close to home.

My god... have I really been doing that, all this time? Could it be possible?

He wished it hadn't felt so true. Steelwing was watching him closely, almost interestedly, as pride fought with honesty, and Judeau couldn't help but wonder irritably just what the elf was hoping to see.

Then it hit him, like a bolt of lightning from a clear blue sky: He was doing it even now!

Steelwing's distanced attitude, his regal bearing, the slight but undeniable physical resemblance to Griffith, even the strangely overarticulated way he spoke - it all served to create an impression of superiority in Judeau's mind. He realised that he had constantly been reacting to Steelwing as if the Crusader had treated him like a subordinate, someone of less worth - and if he really thought about it, he couldn't honestly say that that impression was justified.

So that was the real source of this vague aggression he'd felt towards Steelwing. But none of it had been the elf's doing: It was all in his own head!

Man, he thought as the insight swept through him with dizzying clarity, I had no idea. And here I thought I knew myself!

Steelwing's eyes gained an expectant glint as the scout's features changed in surprise and realization, and when Judeau finally managed an almost breathless "I see," they finally showed the first unmistakable hint of a smile that Judeau had ever seen in the Crusader. Only a moment ago, he might have interpreted this as a hint of a condescending attitude, but now he could clearly see that there was nothing like that in the steel-grey eyes. Rather, they held a distanced but honest kind of appreciation and respect. If anything, Steelwing actually seemed to like Judeau - albeit in his own reserved way.

With that not saying that he probably wouldn't hold true to his promise and kill the scout if it would come to that, but somehow, that was easier to accept now.

Judeau felt a slightly self-conscious smile tug at the corners of his mouth as a previously unseen layer of the Crusader's personality unfurled before him.

I have misjudged him.

"Thank you," he said simply, letting the smile spread out over his face. "I'll work on that."

"Good," the Crusader replied. "You need to."

Judeau just grinned, turning some of his attention back to his breakfast.

"So how about acceptance?" he ventured, "Or are we not yet done with insight?"

"I think you have grasped the basic concept... but we are far from done with it. Now begins the difficult part of actually learning it, and that will have to take the time and the repetition that it must. But yes, let us move on to acceptance."

Something seemed to harden in the Crusader's eyes as he thoughtfully gazed into the fire again, and his brows crept downwards.

"It is very natural," he began quietly, "To fear death. It is an instinct that is hard to overcome, but in order to become truly proficient, truly fearsome in battle, it nonetheless must be done. Your acceptance must be that of your own possible demise."

Judeau blinked, not sure he'd heard the Crusader right.

"What?"

Steelwing turned his cold, piercing raptor gaze on the scout, and Judeau almost shivered. The remorseless killer Steelwing was back in full, without any of the tentative warmth and humanity that he had appeared to have only a few moments ago. Deadly serious indeed.

"As long as you fear death, you will not be using your full potential. You will hold back, overthink your moves, miss opportunities."

"Wait, hold on there for just a minute," Judeau interrupted, "Are you seriously saying that I should try to give up all thoughts of self-preservation?"

"Yes." Before Judeau could reply, the Crusader had regained his calm, tutorial air and continued: "All thoughts thereof, that is. What I want you to do is to let go of conscious thought and trust your instincts to guide you in battle. Surely, you have had enough experience and exercise to know what to do in as good as any given situation - without thinking it through first?"

Judeau frowned. "Yeah, my instincts are well trained... I already do that."

Steelwing shook his head with a little sigh.

"No, Mr Judeau, you do not. You have simply learnt to think very fast. Impressively fast, granted, but still nowhere near the speed of your instincts. As long as you think about each move, you will not reach the potential you are capable of. Consider it: your skills have been honed by years of experience, warfare and training � your body knows what to do, you just have to learn to trust it. And, like I said, the instinct to preserve your own life is probably the strongest one of all. Once you have let go of your life, you will notice how hard it is to actually lose it. Besides," he added with a dismissive shrug, "Once you have achieved the speed of your instincts, you will often be able to incapacitate your opponent before he can even touch you."

Judeau frowned again, thinking it all through.

"Okay." He nodded. "I'm still not too clear on how this is the same as accepting death."

Steelwing turned to him with eyebrows lifted in genuine surprise.

"No? Alright then... It is about fear." He made another brief pause. "To enter battle is to put your life at risk. Anyone knows this, and the unquenchable instinct to preserve one's own life incites a natural fear of the inevitable. But it is inevitable. Those who walk the path of the warrior have Death walking in their shadows, and can feel His breath on their necks. There is no way to escape Him, but once you enter combat, you challenge Him � And do not imagine anything else. Frightening? Of course it is, but fear is the most compelling emotion we have, and it distorts our senses - makes us act irrationally, or not act at all when we should."

He paused again, directing a thoughtful gaze towards the brightening sky.

"We do not want to die, so we do not wish to even accept the possibility that it could happen, no matter how obvious it is, because we irrationally fear that doing so will somehow call His attention. That if we accept death, it will find us. But that is not true. Accept that death will come, because it will, maybe... no, probably in this battle. If not, in the next. Or the next. Accept His presence and respect Him. Accept that the worst thing that could ever happen will happen, and have no fear. He will collect you when He so chooses, and when he does there will be nothing you can do to stop him. That decision is not yours to make. Have no fear, for fear is far more likely to end you than to protect you. With acceptance - of your mortality, your flaws and your weaknesses - you will not fear any more. Your head will be clearer, your instincts unobstructed. And," he added with an almost amused tint to his voice:

"It will give you a real edge against your opponent. The absence of fear in your eyes and movements will be interpreted as confidence, and that tie in with insight again: Your opponent might well assume that you have reason to be confident and become wary - or frightened. Do you understand now?"

And Judeau actually found that he did. It stirred some kind of memory, but nothing he could really put his finger on right away. Frowning thoughtfully, he nodded.

"Yeah... 'Nothing to fear but fear itself.' I have no reason to fear the inevitable, and no fear means I've got the upper hand in battle... and... That I will be more in control of the situation... and myself - isn't that right?"

Steelwing bowed his head in graceful approval.

"Very good, Mr Judeau. Indeed. And do you understand how these two techniques fit together?"

"I think so. To accept my mortality is to have insight into myself and into combat, and that insight is something I must accept, no matter how unpleasant... Um."

"Precisely. It works both ways and forms a constructive cycle. Once you have not only understood but achieved this cycle within yourself, you will have become a true Sword's Master."

Judeau almost laughed, but put his hands behind his head and stretched with an amused half-snicker instead.

"What, that's really all there is to it?" he said jokingly. Steelwing leisurely got up before answering, as utterly serious as always:

"Basically, yes. Everything else is just effectivisation. Now come, it is time for your first lesson: making your everyday stance into your combat stance, and vice versa."

Judeau blinked, his jaw falling open. "Wha...? But... but I thought... I thought this was the first lesson!"

Steelwing gave him a stern frown. "Then you have not been paying attention. Acceptance and insight is not the first lesson - it is the one lesson. And it will take a lot more practical experience, with real combat, for you to come even close to fully realising what you have to do to achieve it. Now get up and come with me."

Judeau blinked a few more times, then got up with a defeated sigh. "Oye..."

But as he half-ran to catch up with the Crusader, he found himself with a determined smile on his face. He did have a purpose and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to go through with this. From what he had gathered about Steelwing, it was probably going to be both intense and difficult, but... it was getting interesting. Interesting in a very good way.

And then, it hit him - the flash of memory that had stirred in the back of his mind, earlier. Gatts. The way he always fought, the look in his eyes... could that have been acceptance? He had been beyond formidable in battle - could it have had something to do with this very Sword's Master technique?

Judeau briefly wondered if Gatts had had anyone teach it to him, but pushed further thoughts of the past out of his mind as the training session began.

If I ever get back, I'll ask him.

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