A Hero's Quest: Eye of the Demon Emperor
- Thread starter Birdsie
- Start date
- Original Fantasy
Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
That's the feeling you were supposed to get, actually.
Leona, too, used to be the young heroine of her own adventure. You're barely about to enter the stage and take the light.
Chapter 4: Spiral Downward - Part 3: The Sentient Keep
Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
"Can I have some food?" you ask, half-yelling at the ceiling.
...
You decide to wait. Preparing food isn't instantaneous.
...
...
Two minutes pass. Suddenly, the door to your room bursts open. A single cart made out of metal wheels in. On it, you see a modest number of plates and cutlery. There are several dishes. Some vegetables, like sliced, heated carrots, mushrooms, and apples; as well as what you're certain is spiced chicken breasts. There are also potatoes and beetroots, both of medium amount. It looks like something you could eat.
You transfer the plates to the desk and dig in. It tastes decent. Not good, but decent. You can live like this. Once you are done eating, you lay the plates back on the suspicious cartwheel, which proceeds to then leave your room, closing the door behind itself.
This castle is... interesting. It appears to be sentient, to the extent of registering the user's commands. You decide to test the extent to which it works.
"I want more pillows!" you command, looking at the ceiling.
You hear several sounds from the hallway just a second after your command. You open the door and peek outside, only to see a similar, silvery cart loading fresh, white, puffy piles of pillows onto itself, telekinetically. Once the cart has a small mountain, it proceeds in the direction of your door. You go back inside, making space. The cart drives in, leaves the pillows on your bed, and drives out.
Oh, this is good.
"I want an exotic juice!"
You decide to see how the castle treats adjectives, such as 'exotic.' Will it actually get you some rare drink?
You sit down at the bed and hug some pillows, waiting for any reaction. Five, maybe six pass until a cart wheels in. On it, you see a single, empty glass. Around it, are four, glass jugs. Each one has a different-colored liquid. There is one that is red, one that is blue, and two that are orange and dark orange respectively.
You try each one.
The red juice tastes... well, exotic. There is no other word for the taste. It left you speechless, because you have never felt such a thing before in your life. The blue one tastes oddly like milk, but mixed with something else. It was creamy. The orange and dark orange are similar, both tasting like dragon fruit. And perhaps they were. You wouldn't be surprised, to be honest. Once you have tasted each juice, you decide this castle is very competent and deserving of gratitude.
"Thank you," you say. "I'm done with the juices."
The cart wheels out and closes the door, leaving you satisfied with its service. You scoop the remnants of the juice from your lips using your tongue, then proceed to go to sleep, like you always do. After a good meal, you like to get comfortable. And with this many pillows, it would be hard not to. You jump onto the bed, the pillows cushioning your fall. You take one of the pillows and hug it, while you fall asleep.
...
...
...
Your eyes slide open. You stretch and look around the room. Nothing has changed. Sitting in your room has grown boring.
"What time is it?" you ask the castle.
Suddenly, blue rune-sigils appear in the air before you. They change until they form letters in a language you know. Early afternoon. Your nap has lasted two, maybe three hours then. Perhaps even one, but you honestly doubt that. You'd never let yourself sleep for less than two, especially on a bed this comfortable.
You should find something else to do now.
[] Be a good girl. Stay in your room and do something to pass time.
-[] Do what?
[] Be a naughty girl. Go and mess with the spirits.
-[] Tell them, or do what with them?
[] Go and visit Roland's room.
[] Go and visit Tavish's room.
[] Ask the castle to play with you. You're curious what it will do.
[] Find Cervitou's workshop and have a look around. A study is just as good. Who knows what kinds of insane artifacts and relics of a past age you will find?
Time: Afternoon
Calendar: 1006-08-26
...
You decide to wait. Preparing food isn't instantaneous.
...
...
Two minutes pass. Suddenly, the door to your room bursts open. A single cart made out of metal wheels in. On it, you see a modest number of plates and cutlery. There are several dishes. Some vegetables, like sliced, heated carrots, mushrooms, and apples; as well as what you're certain is spiced chicken breasts. There are also potatoes and beetroots, both of medium amount. It looks like something you could eat.
You transfer the plates to the desk and dig in. It tastes decent. Not good, but decent. You can live like this. Once you are done eating, you lay the plates back on the suspicious cartwheel, which proceeds to then leave your room, closing the door behind itself.
This castle is... interesting. It appears to be sentient, to the extent of registering the user's commands. You decide to test the extent to which it works.
"I want more pillows!" you command, looking at the ceiling.
You hear several sounds from the hallway just a second after your command. You open the door and peek outside, only to see a similar, silvery cart loading fresh, white, puffy piles of pillows onto itself, telekinetically. Once the cart has a small mountain, it proceeds in the direction of your door. You go back inside, making space. The cart drives in, leaves the pillows on your bed, and drives out.
Oh, this is good.
"I want an exotic juice!"
You decide to see how the castle treats adjectives, such as 'exotic.' Will it actually get you some rare drink?
You sit down at the bed and hug some pillows, waiting for any reaction. Five, maybe six pass until a cart wheels in. On it, you see a single, empty glass. Around it, are four, glass jugs. Each one has a different-colored liquid. There is one that is red, one that is blue, and two that are orange and dark orange respectively.
You try each one.
The red juice tastes... well, exotic. There is no other word for the taste. It left you speechless, because you have never felt such a thing before in your life. The blue one tastes oddly like milk, but mixed with something else. It was creamy. The orange and dark orange are similar, both tasting like dragon fruit. And perhaps they were. You wouldn't be surprised, to be honest. Once you have tasted each juice, you decide this castle is very competent and deserving of gratitude.
"Thank you," you say. "I'm done with the juices."
The cart wheels out and closes the door, leaving you satisfied with its service. You scoop the remnants of the juice from your lips using your tongue, then proceed to go to sleep, like you always do. After a good meal, you like to get comfortable. And with this many pillows, it would be hard not to. You jump onto the bed, the pillows cushioning your fall. You take one of the pillows and hug it, while you fall asleep.
...
...
...
***
Your eyes slide open. You stretch and look around the room. Nothing has changed. Sitting in your room has grown boring.
"What time is it?" you ask the castle.
Suddenly, blue rune-sigils appear in the air before you. They change until they form letters in a language you know. Early afternoon. Your nap has lasted two, maybe three hours then. Perhaps even one, but you honestly doubt that. You'd never let yourself sleep for less than two, especially on a bed this comfortable.
You should find something else to do now.
[] Be a good girl. Stay in your room and do something to pass time.
-[] Do what?
[] Be a naughty girl. Go and mess with the spirits.
-[] Tell them, or do what with them?
[] Go and visit Roland's room.
[] Go and visit Tavish's room.
[] Ask the castle to play with you. You're curious what it will do.
[] Find Cervitou's workshop and have a look around. A study is just as good. Who knows what kinds of insane artifacts and relics of a past age you will find?
Time: Afternoon
Calendar: 1006-08-26
- Location
- Southampton, Great Britain
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Well, that explains the latest tag.
Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
Where and how did you find these?[x] Find Cervitou's workshop and have a look around. A study is just as good. Who knows what kinds of insane artifacts and relics of a past age you will find?
Chapter 4: Spiral Downward - Part 4: Future Plans
Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
You need to talk.
The three of you are kneeling on the floor, in a circle, discussing your approach to the situation at hand, as well as any future plans you might have. For the longest time now, you've had an idea, but you could never realize it. But now, an occasion has presented itself.
"So what's the idea?" Roland asks.
"Let's travel," you answer.
"Travel?" Tavish repeats. "As in, become adventurers?"
"Yeah. Only temporarily, of course. We could do a lot of good while my mom deals with... whatever she's dealing with."
"You have a lot of trust in your parents," Tavish grumbles.
"Don't you have trust in yours?"
Tavish pauses. He thinks on that. "Yeah, I suppose. How are you going to convince Cervitou, though? It's not like he will let us go."
Roland cuts in. "Also, what was that Elucifer said about you having a shard of the Demon Emperor in your soul?"
"Pretty sure I heard him say that too," Tavish adds with a blink.
You think on the answer. "I think it has something to do with that curse that doesn't let me use Excalibur properly. I think the curse is actually the shard."
"Wait. If he said it has only a fragment, where are the others?" Roland ponders, pointing out the elephant in the room.
"..." You don't have an answer for that. You stare blankly.
"It doesn't matter. For now, let's focus on an attainable goal." Tavish smiles at you.
"Agreed," Roland says optimistically.
"Alright. We need to convince Cervitou. Mom might not like it, but..."
"You've convinced me." You turn around and see Cervitou standing there. "Nothing warms the heart more than the sight of a few youths setting out to conquer the world."
"How much did you hear?"
"Everything. This is my castle, Artoria Baragar. Primitive barriers against scrying like these are..." Cervitou pokes the air, causing several sparks to emit from his finger and shatter the anti-magic field you and Tavish set up. It cracks in an instant. "Second-rate."
Tavish stands up. "Will you help us?"
"Leona Baragar was never a fan of me. That feeling, although returned, does not mean I do not want what is best for her children and my student. I believe this is an excellent chance."
"Chance? For what?" Roland asks.
"For you to gain experience. Every one of you wants to be some kind of hero in the future. You won't learn that by rotting in a castle and letting your parents do the dirty work. In addition, my castle is not a safe place for children and teenagers. Actually, it's not safe for adults either."
As Cervitou says that, you dread to think what kind of traps he set around the place.
"Roland and Tavish. You two start packing up. Artoria Baragar. With me."
You nod and follow Cervitou to his workshop.
Cervitou leads you to a small corner of the room, next to a desk. He gives you three bags. "All you need is inside."
"Wait..." You take the bags, holding them. Normally, they'd weigh a lot, but the Gauntlets of Ogre Strength help. "How did you know that we'd want to go adventuring?"
Cervitou looks at you. "I have odd friends in weird places."
"Huh?"
"I have intuition, Artoria. I have intuition," he simplifies.
"Oh."
"Also, I have a question. Has Aegis Caliburn told you anything of me?"
"No." You answer honestly. No reason to lie.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," you answer, without skipping a beat.
"I want to say that you may hear a great many, bad things if you ask someone about me. And all of them are probably true. Regardless, know that I wish the best for you and your family. There is nothing I'd like more than to atone, Artoria Baragar, so I beg your forgiveness."
"No need for it," you say. You've heard constantly, time after time, to keep away from Cervitou, but you never understood why he is so evil. Why everyone fears him. He's been anything but evil from what you've seen. Obviously, this is because he changed. But still, your saying there's no need for it is insincere, since you can't judge his sins. You decide to point that out. "But I don't even know what you did."
"Would you like to? You've faced war before. I believe you are ready for mature topics."
[] Yes! Finally, Cervitou's backstory! Just what kind of dark misdeeds did he commit? Shoving puppies down his enemies' throats? Yes, please!
[] Politely refuse and save it for a later reveal, when it can be more dramatic.
Time: Afternoon
Calendar: 1006-08-26
***
The three of you are kneeling on the floor, in a circle, discussing your approach to the situation at hand, as well as any future plans you might have. For the longest time now, you've had an idea, but you could never realize it. But now, an occasion has presented itself.
"So what's the idea?" Roland asks.
"Let's travel," you answer.
"Travel?" Tavish repeats. "As in, become adventurers?"
"Yeah. Only temporarily, of course. We could do a lot of good while my mom deals with... whatever she's dealing with."
"You have a lot of trust in your parents," Tavish grumbles.
"Don't you have trust in yours?"
Tavish pauses. He thinks on that. "Yeah, I suppose. How are you going to convince Cervitou, though? It's not like he will let us go."
Roland cuts in. "Also, what was that Elucifer said about you having a shard of the Demon Emperor in your soul?"
"Pretty sure I heard him say that too," Tavish adds with a blink.
You think on the answer. "I think it has something to do with that curse that doesn't let me use Excalibur properly. I think the curse is actually the shard."
"Wait. If he said it has only a fragment, where are the others?" Roland ponders, pointing out the elephant in the room.
"..." You don't have an answer for that. You stare blankly.
"It doesn't matter. For now, let's focus on an attainable goal." Tavish smiles at you.
"Agreed," Roland says optimistically.
"Alright. We need to convince Cervitou. Mom might not like it, but..."
"You've convinced me." You turn around and see Cervitou standing there. "Nothing warms the heart more than the sight of a few youths setting out to conquer the world."
"How much did you hear?"
"Everything. This is my castle, Artoria Baragar. Primitive barriers against scrying like these are..." Cervitou pokes the air, causing several sparks to emit from his finger and shatter the anti-magic field you and Tavish set up. It cracks in an instant. "Second-rate."
Tavish stands up. "Will you help us?"
"Leona Baragar was never a fan of me. That feeling, although returned, does not mean I do not want what is best for her children and my student. I believe this is an excellent chance."
"Chance? For what?" Roland asks.
"For you to gain experience. Every one of you wants to be some kind of hero in the future. You won't learn that by rotting in a castle and letting your parents do the dirty work. In addition, my castle is not a safe place for children and teenagers. Actually, it's not safe for adults either."
As Cervitou says that, you dread to think what kind of traps he set around the place.
"Roland and Tavish. You two start packing up. Artoria Baragar. With me."
You nod and follow Cervitou to his workshop.
Cervitou leads you to a small corner of the room, next to a desk. He gives you three bags. "All you need is inside."
"Wait..." You take the bags, holding them. Normally, they'd weigh a lot, but the Gauntlets of Ogre Strength help. "How did you know that we'd want to go adventuring?"
Cervitou looks at you. "I have odd friends in weird places."
"Huh?"
"I have intuition, Artoria. I have intuition," he simplifies.
"Oh."
"Also, I have a question. Has Aegis Caliburn told you anything of me?"
"No." You answer honestly. No reason to lie.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," you answer, without skipping a beat.
"I want to say that you may hear a great many, bad things if you ask someone about me. And all of them are probably true. Regardless, know that I wish the best for you and your family. There is nothing I'd like more than to atone, Artoria Baragar, so I beg your forgiveness."
"No need for it," you say. You've heard constantly, time after time, to keep away from Cervitou, but you never understood why he is so evil. Why everyone fears him. He's been anything but evil from what you've seen. Obviously, this is because he changed. But still, your saying there's no need for it is insincere, since you can't judge his sins. You decide to point that out. "But I don't even know what you did."
"Would you like to? You've faced war before. I believe you are ready for mature topics."
[] Yes! Finally, Cervitou's backstory! Just what kind of dark misdeeds did he commit? Shoving puppies down his enemies' throats? Yes, please!
[] Politely refuse and save it for a later reveal, when it can be more dramatic.
Time: Afternoon
Calendar: 1006-08-26
Last edited:
- Location
- Southampton, Great Britain
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Yes! Finally, Cervitou's backstory! Just what kind of dark misdeeds did he commit? Shoving puppies down his enemies' throats? Yes, please!
Also, called it.
Also, called it.
Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
Well, you wanted it and it had to happen sooner or later.
I thought: why not sooner?
By the end of this Quest, Artoria will be an old grandlady with children and grandchildren of her own.
[x] Yes! Finally, Cervitou's backstory! Just what kind of dark misdeeds did he commit? Shoving puppies down his enemies' throats? Yes, please!
Chapter 4: Spiral Downward - Part 5: Cervitou's Reign of Terror
Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
You nod eagerly.
"Okay," Cervitou says. The mage sits down on a stool. He drags one out from under his table, so you can sit next to him. You sit on the stool and listen to his story.
Cervitou opens his mouth to speak, but stops before he can begin properly. "Actually," he says. "Why bother with words, when I can show it to you?"
"What do you―"
Cervitou's index finger touches your forehead. In a flash of light, information moves into your brain. You see memories of the past. Things that happened. Things that are no more. Things - mistakes - that cannot be fixed. Not anymore, they can't.
"Dad. Do you love mom?" An elf asks, of his father.
The older elf, with straight, blond hair and dark green eyes turns to his son – to Cervitou – and answers him: "Of course. Why do you ask that?"
"She's a dark elf. I heard what Aunt Gilrieth said about them."
"I know," he says confidently. Cervitou's father wraps his arm around Cervitou's back. The two look forward and watch the stars together. "Listen. Your mom did some bad things, but, in the end, all sins can be forgiven."
"Really?"
"Yes, you just have to try. As long as you try to repent for them, then no matter what you did, you are a good person by definition. That's what your mom is like."
Cervitou nods, smiling. "So mom was bad once?" You can sense naivety in his speech. Back then, he was much different. The Cervitou you are seeing right now is six, maybe seven years old. He is unaware of how the world works.
"Once," his father repeats the word to put emphasis on it.
"What are you two talking about?"
They look back. Behind them, in a white dress, stands a blushing woman with dark skin. She has white hair and red eyes, comparable to blood. Her nose is thin, while her jawline is slim. She is tall and very slender. Cervitou's father smiles.
"Just talking. About philosophy," Cervitou's father answers.
Cervitou stands up and runs up to his mother, hugging her. How can you not love a woman who tries her best?
Then, the memories skip forward. Many days of ordinary life. You see one after another. Day after day of life. At age eight, Cervitou started learning magic. He was a prodigy in every field –– he quickly surpassed most of his teachers. It didn't take long for all prophets that visited him to agree in unison that he was fated to become a famous archmage, perhaps the most powerful of the next several centuries. A man who would greatly improve the field of magecraft and use his gifts for good... or tear away the world in evil. However, this development took place at the age of nine through ten.
The memories skip to age of nine.
Cervitou skips through a field of green grass and trees. You recognize the place. It is the forest and plain around the castle you are currently in but... untainted by whatever made it dead. Cervitou walks up to a pair of other children. One of them is a dark elf, while the other is a human. Both are women. Both are older than him. The dark elf girl is maybe two or three years older than him. The human girl is in her late teen years, maybe eighteen, maybe nineteen. Maybe even a twenty.
"Hi," the human girl says. Soon, the dark elf girl does the same, but with a more stern voice.
"Hi," Cervitou answers. "How are you two?"
"I'm good," the dark elf girl answers, smiling. "What about you, nerd?"
"Aegis, come on!" the human girl reprimands. She stares at Aegis, while she laughs. Aegis is a dark elf? You suppose that's why she always wears a helmet, including the banquet. People look down upon them as an all-evil race. It'd be bad reputation for the King's Fist to be a dark elf.
So, they were friends. But the human girl. Who is she?
Cervitou kneels next to his friends. "I learned a new spell."
"What's it called?" the human girl asked.
"Shock Bolt," Cervitou answers with a smile. "I'm already close to mastering it."
"Pfffft," Aegis exclaims, folding her hands. "Show it."
Cervitou stands up and looks around for a target. He sees a boulder. "It works best on organic targets, but that should do it." Cervitou reaches his right hand out to the boulder. His palm opens. He takes a deep breath and focuses. The hand roars, after which, a bright flash of blue light is emitted. Before anyone's eyes can register, the boulder has a huge scorch mark on it –– the lightning of the Shock Bolt spell hit the target.
"Wow, no incantation!" the human girl exclaims. She stands up, astonished. "That's awesome!"
Cervitou moves his hand behind his back, flattered. His cheeks redden. "Thanks."
Aegis sighs and stands up. She cracks her knuckles. "Nerds. Both of you!" she says, almost as if complaining. Aegis smiles, stretches and chuckles proudly.
Cervitou grimaces. "Oh, yeah? You've got something better?"
"Of course!" Aegis scoffs back at him. "Let me show you how it's done!"
Aegis bangs her fists together. It's a very familiar motion, but you haven't seen her do so without her gauntlets yet, so at the same time, it looks very weird. Aegis takes a deep breath, then runs forward with a mighty war-cry similar to a scream. Her right fist flies at the boulder.
The punch shatters the huge rock into pieces, sending fragments flying in every direction.
Cervitou and the other girl are both left speechless.
"Beronica..?." Cervitou calls the girl.
"Y-Yeah?"
"I have a feeling I got outdone..."
"Y-Yeah..."
Time skips forward once again. Cervitou matures to the age of fifteen. He's grown distinguished by now. He has the proper behavior of a noble. He is already very experienced in several schools of magic. He is a brilliant mage apprentice and he gets numerous letters every month, from various wizards and sorcerers who want to tutor him... or learn from him. Cervitou endorses some of these requests, but mostly ignores them in general. And then, it happens...
Cervitou sits alone on a large rock, in a forest, reading a book about elemental magic. It lays on his knees as he reads.
"Come back here, you bastards!" He hears a voice from the bushes.
Suddenly, a number of kobold tribesmen run through the bushes, screaming in fear and flailing their arms around. They do their best to escape. After them, from the bushes, emerges a young, extremely angered girl. In her hand, she is holding onto a decorated, holy swo––– no way is that your mother.
Leona looks younger than Cervitou. She's fourteen years old, just a year younger.
Leona has branches and leaves in her hair, as well as bruises and cuts all over her angry face. She must have followed the kobolds through thorny bushes. She looks up at Cervitou, who stares at her, befuddled. "What the hell are you looking at?"
"Someone insane?"
"Oh, now you're getting it!" Leona runs up to the rock that Cervitou is sitting on. She comes close, only to realize it is too big for her to reach him, and too blocky to climb in her armor. "How did you get up there?"
"Air magic," he answers with a polite, secular tone.
"Come down here so I can kick your ass!"
"For looking at you the wrong way?" he asks. "Are you sure that's a good reason to quote 'kick someone's ass' unquote?"
"Aaargh!" Leona screams. You refuse to believe this hormonal beast of pure teenage hatred used to be your mother. "I hate you!"
Cervitou whistles. "Ooh la la. Someone's got anger issues. You remind me why I don't take girls out to dance," he mocks with a smile.
She sneers for a moment. Then, Leona looks down at the sword in her hand. She shrugs, then turns around. Leona takes a step in the opposite direction, only to reveal that she was pretending. She makes a quick 180-degree turn and slices the air with Excalibur, gushing a golden beam of energy forward.
Cervitou jumps, landing behind her with inhuman speed. He pokes her in the back of the head. Leona tries to slice him, turning again, but he dodges and once again finds himself behind her. Cervitou clears his throat. "Too slow."
Leona tries to cut him like this several times, until Cervitou gets bored and simply pushes her to a tree with telekinesis. "You realize your effort is futile, right?"
"You... realize..." she speaks with difficulty through the telekinetic grip; "that once I'm free... it's a wrap for y'all?"
"Whatever," Cervitou lets go of her, then turns around and walks away with a sigh. Sometimes, you can't use diplomacy for anything.
Leona falls to the ground, on her knees. She picks up Excalibur and valiantly charges the young mage. Cervitou hears her footsteps and responds by blasting her away with an explosion of Air magic. Leona is blown away and hits the same tree, probably unconscious.
Cervitou sighs, knowing he can't leave her alone for whatever forest critters to kill and consume. He picks up her body and sword, then carries her back to his castle, where he presents her as a friend to his parents, and explains she fell unconscious during an attempt at spine-breaking gymnastics, hiting her head. He takes her to his room, lays her in the bed, applies some healing tonics and waits.
Once Leona wakes up, she reasonably assumes he's evil and tries to kill him for several minutes, until she realizes it's also futile. After that, Leona calms down and the two begin to have a pleasant conversation.
"So, you're a Baragar?" Cervitou asks, sipping tea from a white cup, delivered by the castle.
"Yeah," she says, taking a sip of her own.
"Why are you so mad at me?"
"I'm sorry," she says with a hint of grief. She looks down, in shame, covering her face with her hands. "I overreact to everything lately. One guy looked the wrong way at me and... and..."
"And?"
"And I punched him!" She looks up at Cervitou, surprising him by the tears in her eyes.
Cervitou lays down the tea. "I suspect it's because there's a lot of pressure on you. Being a descendant of a family of ancient heroes must be hard, especially when you are expected to out-do your ancestors. This must give you a compulsion to store away your emotions and misdirect your feelings - leading to violent tendencies and acts of aggression to insult and threat - perceived or otherwise." Cervitou reads her like an open book. He is like a master psychologist, operating in another mental realm. That way, Cervitou read her symptoms.
"You need to find a way to calm down," he gives her the cure for the symptoms. "A hobby, or a past-time of some kind."
"What would that be?" Leona asks.
"How about we go after these kobolds? I can help you catch them. Adventuring alone is stupid and reckless, you know?" he says with the voice reminiscent of a caring parent.
"Gee thanks," she answers with a scoff, blowing a piece of her hair that covered her eye away. Then, she smiles. "But... sure. It sounds nice. Ooh, we can get my friend Roderick on the way!"
"Where does Roderick live?" Cervitou asks.
"Er, Lanerfield... actually, maybe let's not do that. It's too far–––" Cervitou takes Leona's hand without permission. Space distorts. The two teleport. Before she can finish her sentence, the two are in Lanerfield. Leona finishes her thought: "away..."
She looks away at the myriad of creatures. Dwarves, humans, and elves, all thriving in crowds of society. Cervitou looks at her apprehensively. "So, where's this Roderick?"
"You can teleport?" she asks, completely amazed. "Isn't that like... like a super-amazing thing for mages?!"
"True," he confirms. "Most learn it by age forty, assuming they perform extensive study. I was born special. At least that's what dad says. My soul is exceptional. One in a billion of pools of untamed power."
"That's... nice..." Leona looks down.
"What's wrong now?"
"You were born lucky," she huffs with disappointment. It looks almost like your mother was depressed, or at least lacking in self-confidence. She was a cloud of various, negative emotions back then, apparently. "I was lucky to be born."
"Don't say that," Cervitou laughs. "Dad says life is a gift. We should enjoy it while we can! Come on, let's go find your friend!" He takes her hand and drags her. Both of them are uncharacteristic and different. Leona is so... you hate to admit it – so negative. While Cervitou isn't as cold and emotionless as he is nowadays. Nowadays, Cervitou is more like a dark, silently hateful robot. Leona is a serious, perhaps somewhat cheerful woman. It's amazing to see them in their childhood.
The two found Roderick. They went ahead to introductions, with Leona introducing one to the other.
You skip the memories forward again. The three became good buddies, and Cervitou still maintained contact with Beronica and Aegis. One day, when Cervitou was sixteen, he paid witness to a very violent argument between two of his relatives.
Cervitou walks up the stairs of his mansion, to see his dad argue with someone.
"I don't care what you say," his father says.
An elven woman is on the other side of the argument. "You will regret your words, Theran. Aja is evil. That's an unchangeable fact."
"Aunt... Gilrieth?" Cervitou asks.
Gilrieth looks at Cervitou. "And so will your family," she scoffs.
"Don't threaten my family," Theran says harshly. He points to the exit. "Now get out!"
"Fine!" Gilrieth sighs then walks out the exit. Theran walks down the hallfway, past Cervitou. Being naturally curious, Cervitou walked after his aunt to ask what happened. He could ask his father for his version at a later juncture, after all.
"Aunt Gilrieth!" he calls, following after her.
The elven woman turns around, with a smug smirk. "Yes?"
"What were you two arguing about?" he asks.
"Oh, nothing. It's a private little sibling squabble, dearie," she hums pleasantly. "How are you? Making new friends?"
"Of course," Cervitou answers. He looks Gilrieth in the eyes, before he gets a weird feeling she might be reading his mind. Cervitou looks away. "Well, I'll be going now."
"Naturally," Gilrieth answers with a smirk.
You skip forward several years. The maturing Cervitou, now seventeen, returns home one day after a short lesson from a druid. The day he came back home at age seventeen was one that changed his life forever. The one that seeded darkness in his otherwise pure heart.
The gates of the castle laid broken, on the floor. Cervitou drops his bag and runs through. Pieces of rubble and scattered armor lay everywhere. What happened? Cervitou runs through the halls until he comes across a stain of blood on the floor. He kneels down, touches it, and through a spell - determines what happened.
A fight took place. His father fought someone. A man. A person in shining mithril armor. Armed, with a sword and shield. The knight managed to slice Theran on the chest, leaving behind a wound and a splatter of blood on the wooden floor of the hallway.
Cervitou follows the trail, until he makes it to the attic, where he finds a pair of bodies - one of a dark elf, one of a high elf. Both covered in cuts and with blood absolutely everywhere. The sight shocks the youthful mage, who breaks down into tears and kneels next to his dead parents' bodies. "Mom! Dad!"
"ENOUGH!" You hear a scream of terror in the present. You blink.
You see Cervitou in front of you. The mage, unmasked, clutches his face in his hands. He's on his knees, on the floor "Maybe... maybe..." he finds it difficult to speak: "maybe that's enough... for now?" He can't look up at you.
He breathes. You just stare.
"That's fine," you say.
"It's not," he wipes tears from his face. "You deserve to know what I did. You deserve to know why I can't be forgiven. Why the evils I unleashed... the reign of terror can't be pardoned."
You stand, then take Cervitou's hand. "Calm down."
Cervitou complies. Tears stop flowing from his eyes. He sits down on the stool again. You sit next to him. "This is clearly too much for you. We can stop here and you can tell me the rest with words."
"No," Cervitou shakes his head. "Let's finish what we started."
You nod. "If that's what you wish." You give your hand to Cervitou. He casts the spell again. You move back in time once again, to his mind - to his memories.
Cervitou did what he could.
Before him is an elaborate ritual. A circle of magic, with two bodies in it, covered with black cloth. In his hand, a book about necromancy. In his other hand, a vial of mercury. He pours the last drops of it into the circle and adds the finishing touches, then performs an incantation.
Soon, the bodies come to life. "Mom? D-Dad? Are you two alive? Did I...?"
Two bodies tear through the black cloth. They are nothing more than zombies. A soul must be willing to return to perform a True Resurrection. Even though Cervitou was a prodigy and he performed the best ritual with the best components he could, they did not come back. They did not want to. They left him alone. He cursed his fate.
Cervitou lived in the castle for several days, alone, not replying to correspondence from his friends. Until one day, someone was worried something was wrong...
"Hello?! Is anyone there?!" Leona yells from across the gates of the castle.
Cervitou is informed of someone's presence by the castle. Sitting in a charge in the parlor, studying a book about elemental magic. He waves his hand, opening a blue image of Leona. He projects his voice bitterly: "Fuck off."
Leona steps back, surprised by the harsh response. "Cervitou? Are you feeling alright?"
"No," he answers, gritting his teeth. "Go away. I don't want your help."
"Help?" Leona reacted to the word usage. "Did something happen?"
"No! I said; go away! Now!" He stood up in his chair, angered.
"We're friends, bucko. Let me in and we'll talk it over a nice cup of tea," Leona asks with a lively smile, closing her eyes.
Cervitou clicks his fingers. In front of the castle, hundreds of portals open. "You want tea?! I'll give you tea!"
Leona looks up. A wave of scalding tea shoots at her like a shower. The pressure is so immense that the attack is more like a wave of energy than fluid.
The creation of this much tea overloads the castle's soul, taxing it, and disabling the whole system. It's like when you use too many electrical devices at the same time and the fuses go out.
Leona barely avoids the attack, by hiding behind a rock. "What's wrong with you? Are you trying to kill me?! Cervitou!? Cervitou!"
Cervitou appears on top of the wall, above Leona. "Go away! Last time I'm telling you!"
She uses his own words against him. "I get the feeling you really need to calm down and find a hobby!"
Cervitou stops. His grimace wavers and turns into an indifferent look. The gate of the castle opens to Leona, letting her inside. Cervitou explains what happened and Leona naturally comforts him, and offers to let him live in her family's mansion for some time, since he clearly needs support and social contact. He denies, saying he plans to hunt down the knight who did it.
Cervitou sighs and stops sending you the memories. "It was the worst mistake I made."
"What was?"
"Letting her in. Had I refused to let Leona Baragar into the keep that day, hundreds of thousands of innocent people would be alive."
"And what!? You'd rot in your castle alone."
"I'm yet to tell you what happened later, Artoria Baragar. My own good is not above of that of thousands of innocents. I'd get over the death of my parents eventually. I know that, because, to this day - I have already done so. What led to my fall was a grudge. A single instance of hatred."
"Against whom?"
"Against you."
"Me?"
"And your family."
"Why did you hate my family?"
"The knight who killed my parents was your grandfather."
"N...no... No way. Grandpa would never do that."
"He was tricked by my aunt. She believed my father was a huge affront to his species by marrying a dark elf. She decided to get rid of him by telling a lie to the most famous hero in Albion. 'A family of black mages lives there,' she said. Since my mother was a dark elf, he assumed it was true. Assumptions... that assumption led me to call him ignorant. And that led me to hate him and everyone related to him. Including Leona."
"But you were friends!" you protest.
"We were. And then I rose an army of undead and ordered it to go through Albion like a wave of universal solvents that eats through everything. And I joined in."
"Why would you kill people? Innocent people?"
"I did it to spite the Baragar family. I told everyone I killed that it was because of Arthur Baragar that they died, one after another. It was because he couldn't save them. It was because he wasn't a hero, but a fraud. I didn't just kill. I profanated every temple. Tortured every good-willed child. No one was spared. Not women - pregnant or old. Not men - fearful or disabled. I didn't have mercy, because if I did, the message wouldn't be clear enough. It wasn't just killing, Artoria Baragar. I had people skinned and killed in creative ways - their heads put onto sharp poles and hung outside the cities that my army raided. And eventually, they came to stop me. Arthur and his daughter..."
At this point, Cervitou is finishing his story with the use of words.
"And? What happened?"
"What else could happen? We fought, and Arthur was about to behead me. But Leona stepped in and asked me to be spared, for the sake of our friendship, and only if I was locked away in jail. I didn't answer her proposition. At that point, I was a machine controlled by hatred. Life in prison or death were the same, empty thing. But because she insisted, Arthur agreed, and I was locked away. Years passed as I rotted in chains, until an organization came forth and offered to free me for my services. I was reluctant and didn't agree to it."
"But you agreed in the end," you state, knowing he is a part of some organization indeed. "Why?"
"Two reasons. I discovered Beronica was a part of it and she visited me once. Just her words weren't enough to convince me, but they soothed me. The sight of a friend reminded me of old times, which led me to remember what my father said about my mother. One thing led to another, and I agreed to join. I also observed your mother. Or rather her daily life. I'm not ashamed to admit I stalked her with a crystal ball and a scrying spell, but it was out of care."
"..." You stay silent, waiting for him to explain.
"She was married to Roderick at that point and I just wanted to make sure I could repair my sins. I knew it was impossible, but we were friends, right? I had to amend them for her. So when I saw what happened that day when you were born, I rushed there, as fast as I could. Teleportation after teleportation, across vast kilometers. When I reached, I was out of mana. I said I could help, and she agreed reluctantly. I cracked my soul for additional energy and used it to create the barrier which keeps the fragment of evil from taking over you."
"Wow..."
"That's my story. That's it."
[] Comfort Cervitou. He had it tougher than you thought.
[] "I... er... better go!" Share the story with Tavish and Roland.
[] Write-in.
"Okay," Cervitou says. The mage sits down on a stool. He drags one out from under his table, so you can sit next to him. You sit on the stool and listen to his story.
Cervitou opens his mouth to speak, but stops before he can begin properly. "Actually," he says. "Why bother with words, when I can show it to you?"
"What do you―"
Cervitou's index finger touches your forehead. In a flash of light, information moves into your brain. You see memories of the past. Things that happened. Things that are no more. Things - mistakes - that cannot be fixed. Not anymore, they can't.
***
"Dad. Do you love mom?" An elf asks, of his father.
The older elf, with straight, blond hair and dark green eyes turns to his son – to Cervitou – and answers him: "Of course. Why do you ask that?"
"She's a dark elf. I heard what Aunt Gilrieth said about them."
"I know," he says confidently. Cervitou's father wraps his arm around Cervitou's back. The two look forward and watch the stars together. "Listen. Your mom did some bad things, but, in the end, all sins can be forgiven."
"Really?"
"Yes, you just have to try. As long as you try to repent for them, then no matter what you did, you are a good person by definition. That's what your mom is like."
Cervitou nods, smiling. "So mom was bad once?" You can sense naivety in his speech. Back then, he was much different. The Cervitou you are seeing right now is six, maybe seven years old. He is unaware of how the world works.
"Once," his father repeats the word to put emphasis on it.
"What are you two talking about?"
They look back. Behind them, in a white dress, stands a blushing woman with dark skin. She has white hair and red eyes, comparable to blood. Her nose is thin, while her jawline is slim. She is tall and very slender. Cervitou's father smiles.
"Just talking. About philosophy," Cervitou's father answers.
Cervitou stands up and runs up to his mother, hugging her. How can you not love a woman who tries her best?
Then, the memories skip forward. Many days of ordinary life. You see one after another. Day after day of life. At age eight, Cervitou started learning magic. He was a prodigy in every field –– he quickly surpassed most of his teachers. It didn't take long for all prophets that visited him to agree in unison that he was fated to become a famous archmage, perhaps the most powerful of the next several centuries. A man who would greatly improve the field of magecraft and use his gifts for good... or tear away the world in evil. However, this development took place at the age of nine through ten.
The memories skip to age of nine.
Cervitou skips through a field of green grass and trees. You recognize the place. It is the forest and plain around the castle you are currently in but... untainted by whatever made it dead. Cervitou walks up to a pair of other children. One of them is a dark elf, while the other is a human. Both are women. Both are older than him. The dark elf girl is maybe two or three years older than him. The human girl is in her late teen years, maybe eighteen, maybe nineteen. Maybe even a twenty.
"Hi," the human girl says. Soon, the dark elf girl does the same, but with a more stern voice.
"Hi," Cervitou answers. "How are you two?"
"I'm good," the dark elf girl answers, smiling. "What about you, nerd?"
"Aegis, come on!" the human girl reprimands. She stares at Aegis, while she laughs. Aegis is a dark elf? You suppose that's why she always wears a helmet, including the banquet. People look down upon them as an all-evil race. It'd be bad reputation for the King's Fist to be a dark elf.
So, they were friends. But the human girl. Who is she?
Cervitou kneels next to his friends. "I learned a new spell."
"What's it called?" the human girl asked.
"Shock Bolt," Cervitou answers with a smile. "I'm already close to mastering it."
"Pfffft," Aegis exclaims, folding her hands. "Show it."
Cervitou stands up and looks around for a target. He sees a boulder. "It works best on organic targets, but that should do it." Cervitou reaches his right hand out to the boulder. His palm opens. He takes a deep breath and focuses. The hand roars, after which, a bright flash of blue light is emitted. Before anyone's eyes can register, the boulder has a huge scorch mark on it –– the lightning of the Shock Bolt spell hit the target.
"Wow, no incantation!" the human girl exclaims. She stands up, astonished. "That's awesome!"
Cervitou moves his hand behind his back, flattered. His cheeks redden. "Thanks."
Aegis sighs and stands up. She cracks her knuckles. "Nerds. Both of you!" she says, almost as if complaining. Aegis smiles, stretches and chuckles proudly.
Cervitou grimaces. "Oh, yeah? You've got something better?"
"Of course!" Aegis scoffs back at him. "Let me show you how it's done!"
Aegis bangs her fists together. It's a very familiar motion, but you haven't seen her do so without her gauntlets yet, so at the same time, it looks very weird. Aegis takes a deep breath, then runs forward with a mighty war-cry similar to a scream. Her right fist flies at the boulder.
The punch shatters the huge rock into pieces, sending fragments flying in every direction.
Cervitou and the other girl are both left speechless.
"Beronica..?." Cervitou calls the girl.
"Y-Yeah?"
"I have a feeling I got outdone..."
"Y-Yeah..."
Time skips forward once again. Cervitou matures to the age of fifteen. He's grown distinguished by now. He has the proper behavior of a noble. He is already very experienced in several schools of magic. He is a brilliant mage apprentice and he gets numerous letters every month, from various wizards and sorcerers who want to tutor him... or learn from him. Cervitou endorses some of these requests, but mostly ignores them in general. And then, it happens...
Cervitou sits alone on a large rock, in a forest, reading a book about elemental magic. It lays on his knees as he reads.
"Come back here, you bastards!" He hears a voice from the bushes.
Suddenly, a number of kobold tribesmen run through the bushes, screaming in fear and flailing their arms around. They do their best to escape. After them, from the bushes, emerges a young, extremely angered girl. In her hand, she is holding onto a decorated, holy swo––– no way is that your mother.
Leona looks younger than Cervitou. She's fourteen years old, just a year younger.
Leona has branches and leaves in her hair, as well as bruises and cuts all over her angry face. She must have followed the kobolds through thorny bushes. She looks up at Cervitou, who stares at her, befuddled. "What the hell are you looking at?"
"Someone insane?"
"Oh, now you're getting it!" Leona runs up to the rock that Cervitou is sitting on. She comes close, only to realize it is too big for her to reach him, and too blocky to climb in her armor. "How did you get up there?"
"Air magic," he answers with a polite, secular tone.
"Come down here so I can kick your ass!"
"For looking at you the wrong way?" he asks. "Are you sure that's a good reason to quote 'kick someone's ass' unquote?"
"Aaargh!" Leona screams. You refuse to believe this hormonal beast of pure teenage hatred used to be your mother. "I hate you!"
Cervitou whistles. "Ooh la la. Someone's got anger issues. You remind me why I don't take girls out to dance," he mocks with a smile.
She sneers for a moment. Then, Leona looks down at the sword in her hand. She shrugs, then turns around. Leona takes a step in the opposite direction, only to reveal that she was pretending. She makes a quick 180-degree turn and slices the air with Excalibur, gushing a golden beam of energy forward.
Cervitou jumps, landing behind her with inhuman speed. He pokes her in the back of the head. Leona tries to slice him, turning again, but he dodges and once again finds himself behind her. Cervitou clears his throat. "Too slow."
Leona tries to cut him like this several times, until Cervitou gets bored and simply pushes her to a tree with telekinesis. "You realize your effort is futile, right?"
"You... realize..." she speaks with difficulty through the telekinetic grip; "that once I'm free... it's a wrap for y'all?"
"Whatever," Cervitou lets go of her, then turns around and walks away with a sigh. Sometimes, you can't use diplomacy for anything.
Leona falls to the ground, on her knees. She picks up Excalibur and valiantly charges the young mage. Cervitou hears her footsteps and responds by blasting her away with an explosion of Air magic. Leona is blown away and hits the same tree, probably unconscious.
Cervitou sighs, knowing he can't leave her alone for whatever forest critters to kill and consume. He picks up her body and sword, then carries her back to his castle, where he presents her as a friend to his parents, and explains she fell unconscious during an attempt at spine-breaking gymnastics, hiting her head. He takes her to his room, lays her in the bed, applies some healing tonics and waits.
Once Leona wakes up, she reasonably assumes he's evil and tries to kill him for several minutes, until she realizes it's also futile. After that, Leona calms down and the two begin to have a pleasant conversation.
"So, you're a Baragar?" Cervitou asks, sipping tea from a white cup, delivered by the castle.
"Yeah," she says, taking a sip of her own.
"Why are you so mad at me?"
"I'm sorry," she says with a hint of grief. She looks down, in shame, covering her face with her hands. "I overreact to everything lately. One guy looked the wrong way at me and... and..."
"And?"
"And I punched him!" She looks up at Cervitou, surprising him by the tears in her eyes.
Cervitou lays down the tea. "I suspect it's because there's a lot of pressure on you. Being a descendant of a family of ancient heroes must be hard, especially when you are expected to out-do your ancestors. This must give you a compulsion to store away your emotions and misdirect your feelings - leading to violent tendencies and acts of aggression to insult and threat - perceived or otherwise." Cervitou reads her like an open book. He is like a master psychologist, operating in another mental realm. That way, Cervitou read her symptoms.
"You need to find a way to calm down," he gives her the cure for the symptoms. "A hobby, or a past-time of some kind."
"What would that be?" Leona asks.
"How about we go after these kobolds? I can help you catch them. Adventuring alone is stupid and reckless, you know?" he says with the voice reminiscent of a caring parent.
"Gee thanks," she answers with a scoff, blowing a piece of her hair that covered her eye away. Then, she smiles. "But... sure. It sounds nice. Ooh, we can get my friend Roderick on the way!"
"Where does Roderick live?" Cervitou asks.
"Er, Lanerfield... actually, maybe let's not do that. It's too far–––" Cervitou takes Leona's hand without permission. Space distorts. The two teleport. Before she can finish her sentence, the two are in Lanerfield. Leona finishes her thought: "away..."
She looks away at the myriad of creatures. Dwarves, humans, and elves, all thriving in crowds of society. Cervitou looks at her apprehensively. "So, where's this Roderick?"
"You can teleport?" she asks, completely amazed. "Isn't that like... like a super-amazing thing for mages?!"
"True," he confirms. "Most learn it by age forty, assuming they perform extensive study. I was born special. At least that's what dad says. My soul is exceptional. One in a billion of pools of untamed power."
"That's... nice..." Leona looks down.
"What's wrong now?"
"You were born lucky," she huffs with disappointment. It looks almost like your mother was depressed, or at least lacking in self-confidence. She was a cloud of various, negative emotions back then, apparently. "I was lucky to be born."
"Don't say that," Cervitou laughs. "Dad says life is a gift. We should enjoy it while we can! Come on, let's go find your friend!" He takes her hand and drags her. Both of them are uncharacteristic and different. Leona is so... you hate to admit it – so negative. While Cervitou isn't as cold and emotionless as he is nowadays. Nowadays, Cervitou is more like a dark, silently hateful robot. Leona is a serious, perhaps somewhat cheerful woman. It's amazing to see them in their childhood.
The two found Roderick. They went ahead to introductions, with Leona introducing one to the other.
You skip the memories forward again. The three became good buddies, and Cervitou still maintained contact with Beronica and Aegis. One day, when Cervitou was sixteen, he paid witness to a very violent argument between two of his relatives.
Cervitou walks up the stairs of his mansion, to see his dad argue with someone.
"I don't care what you say," his father says.
An elven woman is on the other side of the argument. "You will regret your words, Theran. Aja is evil. That's an unchangeable fact."
"Aunt... Gilrieth?" Cervitou asks.
Gilrieth looks at Cervitou. "And so will your family," she scoffs.
"Don't threaten my family," Theran says harshly. He points to the exit. "Now get out!"
"Fine!" Gilrieth sighs then walks out the exit. Theran walks down the hallfway, past Cervitou. Being naturally curious, Cervitou walked after his aunt to ask what happened. He could ask his father for his version at a later juncture, after all.
"Aunt Gilrieth!" he calls, following after her.
The elven woman turns around, with a smug smirk. "Yes?"
"What were you two arguing about?" he asks.
"Oh, nothing. It's a private little sibling squabble, dearie," she hums pleasantly. "How are you? Making new friends?"
"Of course," Cervitou answers. He looks Gilrieth in the eyes, before he gets a weird feeling she might be reading his mind. Cervitou looks away. "Well, I'll be going now."
"Naturally," Gilrieth answers with a smirk.
You skip forward several years. The maturing Cervitou, now seventeen, returns home one day after a short lesson from a druid. The day he came back home at age seventeen was one that changed his life forever. The one that seeded darkness in his otherwise pure heart.
The gates of the castle laid broken, on the floor. Cervitou drops his bag and runs through. Pieces of rubble and scattered armor lay everywhere. What happened? Cervitou runs through the halls until he comes across a stain of blood on the floor. He kneels down, touches it, and through a spell - determines what happened.
A fight took place. His father fought someone. A man. A person in shining mithril armor. Armed, with a sword and shield. The knight managed to slice Theran on the chest, leaving behind a wound and a splatter of blood on the wooden floor of the hallway.
Cervitou follows the trail, until he makes it to the attic, where he finds a pair of bodies - one of a dark elf, one of a high elf. Both covered in cuts and with blood absolutely everywhere. The sight shocks the youthful mage, who breaks down into tears and kneels next to his dead parents' bodies. "Mom! Dad!"
"ENOUGH!" You hear a scream of terror in the present. You blink.
***
You see Cervitou in front of you. The mage, unmasked, clutches his face in his hands. He's on his knees, on the floor "Maybe... maybe..." he finds it difficult to speak: "maybe that's enough... for now?" He can't look up at you.
He breathes. You just stare.
"That's fine," you say.
"It's not," he wipes tears from his face. "You deserve to know what I did. You deserve to know why I can't be forgiven. Why the evils I unleashed... the reign of terror can't be pardoned."
You stand, then take Cervitou's hand. "Calm down."
Cervitou complies. Tears stop flowing from his eyes. He sits down on the stool again. You sit next to him. "This is clearly too much for you. We can stop here and you can tell me the rest with words."
"No," Cervitou shakes his head. "Let's finish what we started."
You nod. "If that's what you wish." You give your hand to Cervitou. He casts the spell again. You move back in time once again, to his mind - to his memories.
***
Cervitou did what he could.
Before him is an elaborate ritual. A circle of magic, with two bodies in it, covered with black cloth. In his hand, a book about necromancy. In his other hand, a vial of mercury. He pours the last drops of it into the circle and adds the finishing touches, then performs an incantation.
Soon, the bodies come to life. "Mom? D-Dad? Are you two alive? Did I...?"
Two bodies tear through the black cloth. They are nothing more than zombies. A soul must be willing to return to perform a True Resurrection. Even though Cervitou was a prodigy and he performed the best ritual with the best components he could, they did not come back. They did not want to. They left him alone. He cursed his fate.
Cervitou lived in the castle for several days, alone, not replying to correspondence from his friends. Until one day, someone was worried something was wrong...
"Hello?! Is anyone there?!" Leona yells from across the gates of the castle.
Cervitou is informed of someone's presence by the castle. Sitting in a charge in the parlor, studying a book about elemental magic. He waves his hand, opening a blue image of Leona. He projects his voice bitterly: "Fuck off."
Leona steps back, surprised by the harsh response. "Cervitou? Are you feeling alright?"
"No," he answers, gritting his teeth. "Go away. I don't want your help."
"Help?" Leona reacted to the word usage. "Did something happen?"
"No! I said; go away! Now!" He stood up in his chair, angered.
"We're friends, bucko. Let me in and we'll talk it over a nice cup of tea," Leona asks with a lively smile, closing her eyes.
Cervitou clicks his fingers. In front of the castle, hundreds of portals open. "You want tea?! I'll give you tea!"
Leona looks up. A wave of scalding tea shoots at her like a shower. The pressure is so immense that the attack is more like a wave of energy than fluid.
The creation of this much tea overloads the castle's soul, taxing it, and disabling the whole system. It's like when you use too many electrical devices at the same time and the fuses go out.
Leona barely avoids the attack, by hiding behind a rock. "What's wrong with you? Are you trying to kill me?! Cervitou!? Cervitou!"
Cervitou appears on top of the wall, above Leona. "Go away! Last time I'm telling you!"
She uses his own words against him. "I get the feeling you really need to calm down and find a hobby!"
Cervitou stops. His grimace wavers and turns into an indifferent look. The gate of the castle opens to Leona, letting her inside. Cervitou explains what happened and Leona naturally comforts him, and offers to let him live in her family's mansion for some time, since he clearly needs support and social contact. He denies, saying he plans to hunt down the knight who did it.
***
Cervitou sighs and stops sending you the memories. "It was the worst mistake I made."
"What was?"
"Letting her in. Had I refused to let Leona Baragar into the keep that day, hundreds of thousands of innocent people would be alive."
"And what!? You'd rot in your castle alone."
"I'm yet to tell you what happened later, Artoria Baragar. My own good is not above of that of thousands of innocents. I'd get over the death of my parents eventually. I know that, because, to this day - I have already done so. What led to my fall was a grudge. A single instance of hatred."
"Against whom?"
"Against you."
"Me?"
"And your family."
"Why did you hate my family?"
"The knight who killed my parents was your grandfather."
"N...no... No way. Grandpa would never do that."
"He was tricked by my aunt. She believed my father was a huge affront to his species by marrying a dark elf. She decided to get rid of him by telling a lie to the most famous hero in Albion. 'A family of black mages lives there,' she said. Since my mother was a dark elf, he assumed it was true. Assumptions... that assumption led me to call him ignorant. And that led me to hate him and everyone related to him. Including Leona."
"But you were friends!" you protest.
"We were. And then I rose an army of undead and ordered it to go through Albion like a wave of universal solvents that eats through everything. And I joined in."
"Why would you kill people? Innocent people?"
"I did it to spite the Baragar family. I told everyone I killed that it was because of Arthur Baragar that they died, one after another. It was because he couldn't save them. It was because he wasn't a hero, but a fraud. I didn't just kill. I profanated every temple. Tortured every good-willed child. No one was spared. Not women - pregnant or old. Not men - fearful or disabled. I didn't have mercy, because if I did, the message wouldn't be clear enough. It wasn't just killing, Artoria Baragar. I had people skinned and killed in creative ways - their heads put onto sharp poles and hung outside the cities that my army raided. And eventually, they came to stop me. Arthur and his daughter..."
At this point, Cervitou is finishing his story with the use of words.
"And? What happened?"
"What else could happen? We fought, and Arthur was about to behead me. But Leona stepped in and asked me to be spared, for the sake of our friendship, and only if I was locked away in jail. I didn't answer her proposition. At that point, I was a machine controlled by hatred. Life in prison or death were the same, empty thing. But because she insisted, Arthur agreed, and I was locked away. Years passed as I rotted in chains, until an organization came forth and offered to free me for my services. I was reluctant and didn't agree to it."
"But you agreed in the end," you state, knowing he is a part of some organization indeed. "Why?"
"Two reasons. I discovered Beronica was a part of it and she visited me once. Just her words weren't enough to convince me, but they soothed me. The sight of a friend reminded me of old times, which led me to remember what my father said about my mother. One thing led to another, and I agreed to join. I also observed your mother. Or rather her daily life. I'm not ashamed to admit I stalked her with a crystal ball and a scrying spell, but it was out of care."
"..." You stay silent, waiting for him to explain.
"She was married to Roderick at that point and I just wanted to make sure I could repair my sins. I knew it was impossible, but we were friends, right? I had to amend them for her. So when I saw what happened that day when you were born, I rushed there, as fast as I could. Teleportation after teleportation, across vast kilometers. When I reached, I was out of mana. I said I could help, and she agreed reluctantly. I cracked my soul for additional energy and used it to create the barrier which keeps the fragment of evil from taking over you."
"Wow..."
"That's my story. That's it."
[] Comfort Cervitou. He had it tougher than you thought.
[] "I... er... better go!" Share the story with Tavish and Roland.
[] Write-in.
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