A Return to Form [Solo/Training]

This was quite embarrassing— too embarrassing in fact. He had come to Kina to rid himself from that hole in the ground his family had called a home, but now he was buried in a hole under a mountain of impossible feats. Adrastos and Noir had sought, by virtue of mere existence, to humble him till he was but a bug treading the streets. Insignificant and worthless, he was far too weak and too slow to take a life with them on the scene. Even if he were to train his legs till they broke, he'd never surmount the difference of physique... or Magic in some instances.

What left was for him to do?

"Good Lord," he cursed beneath his breath between the stacks of shelves in Morihana Temple. There was really no helping it now, though he had swore at the behest of card games to never resort to it. Even the mere notion of it had him hanging his head in shame.

And with a quiver of his lip, he admitted to his ultimate defeat.

"Time to hit the books."

---

Reading. A forbidden fruit Khalik swore never to touch, for the knowledge his fingers cling to was no mere parchment scrabble. The Skeletal System, the Cardiovascular System, and Acupressure, it was by I-Sabbah tradition, that these types of anatomical and physiological studies were meticulously hammered into the assassin's training regimen; or, at the very least, it was supposed to be. It was by the careful art of mending the human body that the Hassan’s so thoroughly and completely slayed them. However, Khalik was someone who defied traditions at every step, and so he rightfully shirked from both his training and education.

No matter how talented a sprout may be— it will never bloom if it’s left uncultivated.

So, here he found himself in the Temple's Library tediously scouring every shelf, book, and character on the page in the name of the "Family Business."

He dove, over and over, into all kinds of research material the Morihana had on hand. If he had followed the regimen his Father so graciously dealt to him, the manuals left behind by the Hassan of Respite, a former medicinal practitioner in his prior life, would be all he needed to fully grasp the human condition. However, the documents were far back in Balbadd, and there was no conceivable way to procure them in Kina in a timely manner. So, in exchange for quality he upped the quantity and doubled down on his resources. For Khalik, one book of Acupuncture wasn't enough, neither was two. After all, these were books certified by the Morihana, not the Hassan of Respite. So, seven books, a bare minimum of arbitrary regulations, is what he demanded to fully comprehend one measly area of the medical practice.

Tireless nights he spent in the throes of literacy, and not a single letter went without intense scrutiny.

More than reading, however, was the practical physical application of concepts and methods presented to him. Tireless days he spent at classes and seminars which substitute for field training; and, though fiscally regrettable, he offered free acupuncture to those residence of the temple as a mean to hone his skill. Most of his clientele went on fine, invigorated even, but the worst of the bunch were stripped of several hours via paralytic coma.

By the end of a two week expenditure, Khalik had come gain a greater sense of the human condition. So great, in fact, that he could explain without end the detrimental effects of sleep deprivation. However, he simply opted to let bygone be bygones and drift off into full 24 hours of rest.

When he woke, all those scrambled neurons returned to form. Sure, fragments of his studies would vanish into the void from his conscious, but it mattered little overall to his efficiency.

All those points and lines laid well-preserved in the fabric of his mind.

WC: 500+/500