Behold! Antonius!
@ReaderOfFate I summon you! Attend to me!
[Antonius]
An AEE Omake
Heaven may bless me
If it gives with it's right hand
It takes with it's left
When he decided to create his own Legion, Alcaeus had thought to create a strong and professional army. He had chosen to take in body cultivators of all types of course, because that was what he practised and he had ensured that they did not neglect their minds because only a healthy mind could maintain a healthy body.
Largely, he had succeeded in his efforts. His legion was always drilled to perfection and incredibly well-behaved. His men regularly pushed their bodies to perfection and could debate the merits of each other's methods with a strong theoretical grounding.
Yet what he hadn't anticipated and perhaps should have was the fact that different men had different definitions of perfection and even if they understood where the other was coming from they could still disagree. Vehemently. Constantly.
He still considered his greatest accomplishment the implementation of his competitions. He told them that they could simply prove their theories using the strength of their bodies and then he created a culture where they were so engrossed in the competition that their disagreements were quickly forgotten.
They were always a joy to watch but something else had caught his attention today. He was drawn away from the cheering and challenges of the gymnasium by a peculiar and familiar scent. It had the clear scent of bronze that had turned green with age yet was paired - impossibly - with that particular frailty of mortals.
He ended up following it to the entrance to the gymnasium and found one of his new juniors arguing with a mortal. It was young Oriana if he wasn't mistaken. She was perhaps a bit too quick to argue and had begun doing so with the young boy. As you listened you realised that the argument was over recruitment. It seemed like the young boy had come here instead of heading to general training.
He took a sniff. Yes, the boy was the source of the smell. Interesting. He was large and had strong features though he didn't look like a fighter. What drew his attention was the green bronze coating his hair. The bloodline manifesting itself as mortal was common enough but to have already turned green with age? That he had never heard of.
And his features were surprisingly familiar. It took him a moment to place it. Ah, so that was Emmanuel's son. How nostalgic. Ancaeus could remember the same look of determination he wore in young Ambrosius so well. Perhaps with such a peculiar case, he could justify giving it a bit of his own attention.
-----------------------
Antonius wasn't having an entirely good day. It had been over a week since he had found out that he was dying and his parents had been busy discussing what to do ever since. They needed to
do something, not just talk about it. So he had to take it into his own hands.
He didn't know how to get recruited into the Sect but he knew where his father's legion was stationed. So he went there to get some help. Unfortunately, rather than recruiting him or telling him where he
could get recruited, the first woman he had met instead spent the time lecturing him.
"Look kid, this isn't the recruiter's office." She told him for the tenth time. "You need to head down there to join up and go through basic training. If you're a good fit for us,
then we'll recruit you."
"Okay, ma'am." He answered, trying to project his helplessness. Then just tell me and I'll be on my way! "I would appreciate it if you could give me directions
."
She rolled her eyes. "I don't know. I haven't been there for decades. Look, I-" She froze mid-sentence and whirled around to look behind her. "Sir! I didn't see you there. Is there something you need?"
Antonius looked behind her and noticed the largest man he had ever seen. Somehow, he hadn't spotted him before the woman drew his attention to him. That fact made the bear-sized man only more intimidating. "Sir?" He repeated out loud, looking up at the very large man.
"Indeed," The man rumbled in answer. He took a moment to examine you and then nodded at the woman next to you. "Leave this to me, Oriana. You may return to your training."
The woman - Oriana - looked at him, then back at the man who was smiling at her encouragingly. She nodded uncertainly and slowly walked away, giving the two of them a worried look as she left. Antonius stood still, looking up at the eye of the
sir. "Hello, sir. I am Antonius. I was hoping to join your legion?" The man raised an eyebrow at his answer.
"Yes." The man replied, looking down at him with his smile gone. "I heard all of that. Why haven't you gone to the recruiter's office?"
"I… didn't know, sir." He replied, staring into his now-impassive face. "It was my mistake. I can go there right now."
"Wait," He said, holding up a hand. "Why did you come to my legion?"
Antonius found his eyes widening at the way the man said it.
His legion. "I… know someone who is a part of your legion. That's why I knew to come here." He answered truthfully.
"Is that so?" The man's eyes sharpened. "And who might this person be?"
'My father'. That's what he almost said, but then it occurred to him that maybe his father could get into trouble for this. "I… don't wish to say, sir." Antonius finally replied.
The man - the legate perhaps? - raised an eye. "I see." The man said in a tone that was hard to decipher. "Then why don't we return to the previous question then?"
"Which question?" He asked, slightly confused. Hadn't he addressed all of them? "...Sir." He added a moment later.
"
Why did you come to my legion?" The
Legate asked again and Antonius realised that he was asking for his reason for joining. He thought for a moment, unsure if he should say anything.
"I have a condition, sir." He finally told him. "My bloodline is killing me and the only way to live longer is for me to cultivate."
"Interesting situation." The legate observed. "The bronze is calcifying in you even as a mortal. I can see why cultivation may extend your life."
"It's a unique mutation, sir." Antonius explained. "The physician said that he hadn't seen the like before."
"Hmmm." The man nodded. "I think I'm beginning to comprehend your situation."
Antonius nodded along, relieved. "Thank you for understanding me, sir."
"I understand why you want to join the legion," He continued, as if he hadn't heard you. "But why should we want to recruit you?"
Antonius blinked at that. "I don't understand, sir."
The Legate just looked down at him and he suddenly seemed to loom even more. "My legion is my family and you want to join just to survive. It takes resources to cultivate, boy. How can you justify us spending resources on you? Why shouldn't I bar you from joining? Or perhaps I should just end you now and save both of us the trouble."
With every word, the man seemed to grow bigger and the air seemed to grow thicker. Antonius shivered and his heart beat like thundering drums. "I-" He hesitated. What could he even say here to justify himself?
"Speak up," The man rumbled. "
Tell me, boy." Antonius realised that he had taken a step back from the man. He felt like he was going to die…. But he'd been feeling that all week. Either way, he'd die.
Don't retreat. The only way is through. He forced himself to take a step forward and look into the eyes of the man judging him impassively. Then, as his heart beat ever louder, he said the first thing that came to his mind.
What could he say? "My name is Antonius…" What else was there? "...Son of Legionnaire Emmanuel Ambrosius and the Auxiliary Eleanora..." Didn't he just try to keep his father's name a secret? Damn it all. "Both of them are a service to the sect and they have raised me well. I will prove worthy of the legion or die trying."
There he had said it. That was all that he could think of. He tried to ignore the consequences his mind conjured and did all he could to stand his ground. At least this way, he'd die doing something. Then, the legate nodded and suddenly he was a lot less intimidating. "Good to know," He replied, smiling cheerfully.
"...Sir… what?" He just looked at the man without a shred of comprehension. "What just happened?"
"I was merely questioning a junior," The legate said, grinning. "Now were you not about to leave for the recruiter's office?"
Antonius' eyes widened. That felt like a dismissal. "Yes, sir." He said, carefully. "Should I leave?"
The legate considered the question. "No, no." He said, waving his hand dismissively. "Since you are here already, we'll handle the whole thing now."
"But..." Antonius looked around for a moment but there was no one in sight. "I thought it was done in the recruitment office. Not here."
"You'll still have to go through basic training. But we can get you started here," The man replied, nodding to himself. For some reason, this new persona felt far more intimidating than the last one. But before he could argue, the man placed a giant hand on his shoulder. "Come along now."
Antonius tried to protest as best as he could but he despite everything he was pulled along. Any protestations both physical or vocal are easily deflected as he guides you to where he wants you to go. All along the way, the legate was smiling.
-----------------------
The legate - Alcaeus, he said his name was - had brought him to an empty sparring room. There were several raised square platforms with a ring made inside them. He stepped into one of those rings and then gestured for you to follow. Somehow, you found yourself unwillingly standing across from him and wondering where you went wrong.
"Come at me," Alcaeus said, gesturing with his hand. Antonius looked at the large grin on his face and realised he wasn't getting out of this. Fine. So he decided to do the only thing he could do. He just took a deep breath and he charged.
The legate raised a hand and Antonius found himself charging into it. A palm struck his stomach and he fell to the ground heaving. "Never been in a fight then," Alcaeus noted idly as he recovered. Antonius kicked him in his legs and bit back a shout when his shins ached like he just kicked a tree-stump.
"Tenacious though," Alcaeus commented as he lay on the ground. "However, you should be a bit more careful where you hit."
Antonius glared up at him, forgetting that he was facing a legate. Then he pulled himself up with a muttered "Yes, sir". Then half-way up, he jumped straight into an attack. The legate easily moved aside and then put his leg forward.
Antonius found himself tumbling into the ground once more. "You lack balance," The man observed, "Get up, show me your stance." Realizing that none of it was working, he complied and stood up into a fighting stance.
The legate was suddenly in front of him and he nearly stumbled in surprise. He would have if one bear-sized hand hadn't touched his fist to steady him. Antonius did the first thing that came to his mind. He punched him in the face with his free hand.
"Good," Alcaeus said, stopping the motion with his other fist with a hand. You struggled to attack, beginning to breathe heavily as this farce of a battle continued. "You are attacking weak points. And your form is not completely terrible. So you have at least
seen fights before. However, it could be better." He lightly kicked Antonius' foot and pushed him into a different stance. "Better, now consider that the obvious weak point may not be a weak point."
Instead of lightly blocking as he had done so far, Alcaeus let you punch him and you felt your fist connect under his chin. Unable to hold it back, you screamed out loud as pain lanced through your hand and you stepped back, shaking it trying to ease the pain.
He let Antonius recover before he continued. "Now, if I hadn't moved my chin back, it would have shattered your hand. You must always consider your assumptions in a battle between cultivators. Still, it's good to learn common wisdom. Let me show you where to strike."
Alcaeus gestured for him to return to his stance and hesitantly did so, still nursing his hand. He was then guided through several stances and potential avenues of attack, all emphasised as not being always reliable. "You want to anticipate your enemy but very often that comes with experience and study."
Antonius was getting tired. He was breathing heavily and his body was beginning to feel heavy. He still forced himself to stare back up at the legate. For some reason, he only studied him."What else?" Antonius asked him.
The legate nodded. "You are about ready." He replied. "Let's focus on your breathing."
He looked at him with a frown. "What do you mean?"
"Be conscious of it. Breathe like I do. Move like I do." He commanded. He held your hands and began taking you through some motions. "Come on now."
Antonius found himself following the man as he turned it from a mock battle to a dance of light attack and defence. His body was pushed and stretched and he breathed as it happened. He was guided through the motions, and corrected wherever something went wrong.
His body already ached from the one-sided battle and he felt light-headed as the exertion caught up to him. It was in a near-feverish state of mind that Antonius got drawn into his own body. He could feel the tall-tale burn of his stomach and the sound of his heartbeat slowly consumed his mind.
But everything got drowned out in the monotony of the exchange. Then something clicked. It was like someone poured a glass of fresh water down his throat and he pulled on it, drank greedily. It flowed into the pit of his stomach and seemed to intensify. He drew it to his aching body and found himself moving faster and hitting stronger.
His mind sharpened once more and he used the moment of consciousness to attack. He moved faster than he had ever moved before and he hit harder than he had ever hit before. Even then, the legate caught it as easily as he had done before.
Still Alcaeus had a wild grin on his face. "Remember this feeling, young Antonius!" He rumbled. "This is qi. This is the first step of your goal. Remember the way it flows through you and never forget!"
Antonius stared at him with wide eyes and then slowly, it made its way through his mind. He realised that at least for now, he had a reprieve. That shadow of certain death that had haunted him since that moment a week ago, it was gone.
Then his focus broke, he didn't have the will to keep conscious. The tiredness from the battle and the week and
everything just rushed in when he had nothing keeping it back. The world spun, and he fell into two strong hands.
Get up. A part of him still insisted. But he no longer needed to listen.
-----------------------
Waking up was strange. His mind felt groggy and his body hurt all over. But when he breathed in that particular way, he felt the breath travel down to the pit of his stomach and then spread across his body. It flowed rhythmically through his body in tune with breath and filled his body with strength and his mind with strange images of the world. There were three presences in the room. Two felt familiar but the closest was unfamiliar. He had a strange metallic tinge to it and his aura seemed to vibrate with excitement. It felt like it would burst out if it wasn't for a tinge of hesitance and fear keeping it in check.
"Are you sure about the results?" It was his father's voice. He stood slightly away from you and he felt similar to the unfamiliar one. The tinge of metal was so much more. It traced his body like a bronze statue. Bronze. The legion. His heart tightened as he realised that he must be at a healer's. He'd disappeared and his parents found him unconscious and part of the legion?
What was father thinking? What was he going to say to you?
"Yes, sir." An unfamiliar male voice replied. It was incredibly professional, but he could still sense the excitement in his aura as he spoke. "All the damage has receded. No, better. It's integrating with him. It might even be helping boost his growth. Sure, it's lowered his lifespan in absolute terms but-"
"How is his dying later better than his dying now?" A voice interjected sharply. His heart beat faster as he realised who it belonged to. His mother was by far the strongest in the room and her presence was impossible to decipher. All he felt was this sense of intensity. He felt a shiver travel down his spine as he realised that she might be angry.
"Well, if you let me study it." The unknown male spoke again. You could feel his excitement overpowering his caution even though a touch of fear remained."Maybe I can mitigate it or at least record it for posterity-"
"
Leave." Her voice was sharp and her presence flared. Antonius flinched. Fear dominated the stranger's aura and he heard a crash and then a shuffle of feet. Finally, the door opened and then slammed shut. The man's presence quickly grew too distant.
"Eleanora," His father said placatingly. "It's not his fault."
His mother growled. "He wanted to study him like-" She stopped suddenly and somehow Antonius knew that she was looking at him. Then his mother's voice continued. "Antonius. I know you're awake.
Up."
Antonius opened his eyes. He got up slowly, pretending to be overcome by wariness. It gave him a chance to see where he was - a blank white room with several instruments he couldn't recognise. He was laying on a bed and got up to sit.
He looked at his father first as he did so, who turned to his mother and winced. Antonius followed his gaze and found his mother staring at him with a face that betrayed no emotion. "Yes, mom. I-"
"
What were you thinking!?" He flinched at the tone of her voice. It wasn't the cool anger that he had expected. It lacked the control her aura and demeanour had suggested. Her voice was cracking with a shrill edge.
Antonius scrambled to think of an explanation. He'd gone over this conversation so many times in his head. "I-," It was the obvious solution. "It was-" It was the only way. But there was a lump in his throat. He opened his mouth, but none of the logical reasons came out. "I'm sorry." He finally said.
The words were like a release. Once they left his mouth, everything else he didn't want to say seemed to follow in its wake. "But I was scared," He explained, staring at his parents. His mother hesitated and his father had his hand out unsure whether to reach for him. "You weren't doing
anything. I didn't know what else to do!"
It felt like an accusation. "I had to do it myself!
You should have been there!" Why did he sound like he was ten again? He understood, he wanted to say to the shock on his mother's face. He knew that it was hard for them but still, he couldn't stop himself from saying it.
His mother moved. A second later, he felt her arms wrap around his body and he struggled to get free. She pulled him tight and he felt the wetness of his own tears on her clothes. He hugged her back and let the tears flow freely.
"I'm here," She told him. "I'm here to protect you."
That anger rose again. He struggled out from her grasp and looked into her face. Through tear-stricken eyes, he stared at her accusingly. "You
can't." His heart ached at the anger in his own voice and even he wasn't sure whether he was angry at her or the world.
His mother looked stricken and regret filled him. Why did he say that? Her aura floundered with emotions but then it clamped back under control and her face filled with resolve. "Then I'll teach you," She said, some fire in her voice. "I'll teach you
everything. You will
never need protection from
anyone again."
Antonius just looked at her, feeling lost and unsure. What could he say to that? What did he want to say to that? He felt his father come closer and then he felt two large arms wrap around the both of them. "I'm here too. I'll teach you everything that I know."
His mother looked down at him and smiled. He could see the glimmers of tears in her eyes but she looked so strong. "You are like a candle, little one." She told you, looking into your eyes. "A candle in the dark. Even if you only burn half as long, I promise you - you will burn twice as bright."
So many emotions ran through him but the determination in her eyes kept them at bay.
That. Antonius decided.
I want to be like that.
