You are merely a normal girl, as far as anything can be called normal these days. Well, maybe not even entirely normal, but it is definitely not enough to stand out in the chaos the world became recently.
And you can say that with conviction. Around the dawn of the new millennium,
magic became a reality on Earth. World War III took place because of it, with your own country being the victim for once instead of the aggressor or an ally to them; Germany was hit hard in the first days of the invasion, but it recovered well enough.
Well, technically it is now the German region of Earth, as all nations were dissolved after the Grand Crusade. Nothing really changed, they just put it on paper to unify humankind or something. Going by what your father told you, the entire governmental structure is little more than a house of cards waiting for a strong gust of wind.
Following the revelation of magic and that your planet is actually concious, humanity made contact with half a dozen different races living in surrounding 'dimensions', however that works. Elves, Fairies, literal Angels, literal
Demons, manifestations of nightmares, and... whatever Dark Stars are, you were seeing the principal during that lecture.
Either way, all those races are aligned in two big blocks and have been waging war on each other for thousands of years. And humanity, now the Akashic Pillar, joined in. Surely it will end soon.
"Heidi?"
You shake yourself out of your contemplations, having stared out the window for who knows how long. Your friend Anna is tapping your shoulder to get your attention.
You are Adelheid Schmeling, or Heidi as you prefer. It is the middle of June, year 2019, and you are on the bus home from school. Summer break has begun.
Your two friends give you amused looks as you wipe your eyes tiredly; watching cartoons into the night was a bad idea right before the last day of school. "See, that's what you get for staying up too late." Of course Sara is right, but you just glower at her in quiet protest.
Anna laughs. "Anyway," she interjects while curling a strand of her blonde hair around a finger. "What are we going to do over the holidays? We're still on for shopping next week, right?" You and Sara nod. "Great!"
You continue to exchange ideas for a bit as the engine rumbles below you; Anna's quirk is infectious and you find yourself curling your own silvery hair around your finger as well. It is all natural, too; from what you heard, anyone much older than yourself needed a long time to get used to having so many different colours around. Something Gaia, the planet, did once she got access to magic; there was strictly none around, and no one knows why that changed when it did.
For you, it has always been that way.
At some point, Sara perks up. "Oh, right, what's your social and working grades?" Anna happily offered her own, having been given above average grades for each. They are mostly extras without much influence on whether a student progresses a year, but you still grimace.
"The usual." "Oh. Sorry."
Sara smiles sheepishly while Anna rolls her eyes. "Well, maybe if you stopped picking fights with the teachers, they would give you proper grades." You had that argument before, at least once a year for as long as you have known Anna.
It is not that you dislike your teachers; most of them are pretty competent and nice if you talk to them outside of the classroom, but... "I'm trying, but it doesn't work." It is the same response you always give. You absolutely hate people trying to tell you what to do, and these people are paid to tell you what to do. No matter how hard you try, not snapping at them is difficult at best.
Your answer has Sara shake her head; Anna shrugs, mostly to herself, and pats your shoulder. "Okay, just make sure you keep doing decent work so they don't get anything on you." To which you nod, fully aware of what she means.
Then your lips curl into a smirk of the kind that tells your friends what is coming already. "Jawohl, mein Führer." Sadly, you are still bad at rolling the R.
Anna groans and Sara giggles, though she unsuccessfully tries to hide it. "Heidi, please! Aren't you ever getting tired of that?"
"Nope," you tell her cheerfully, having successfully changed the topic. "And you're never getting me to stop. But that aside, how are those courses going?"
Your friend is a Practitioner; the one in a thousand humans who hold magic. Her Affinity, through which she actualises magic she casts, is Fire. The only thing worse for a German would be something like Gas or Nationalism, but you make sure to poke fun at your friend anyway. Affinities determine how one's magic works, and more powerful mages usually have more of them.
Anna just blows hot air into your face and turns away. "I don't see why I need it, to be honest. Sure, my magic is pretty dangerous, but I can just suck it back in whenever I want. At least it's online so I can do it from home, but having to refresh them every year...." You heard that particularly volatile Affinities are required to take these courses to learn how to be responsible. Anyone could get magic at any time, so teaching proper conduct sounds like a good idea to you.
Then again, Anna is right; she showed you before how she can set something on fire and then immediately breathe in all the flames. It gave her an anime-aura and made her hair glow though, so you just laughed at her looking dumb back then.
Your circle of friends and family is weird, all things considered. Practitioners are one in a thousand, and you are friends with one while your father is also one.
Anna sighs and takes your mind to another topic: "Ugh, Steffie says she doesn't have to take these. It's unfair, she gets to be a Magical Girl and I get the extra work." Her complaints find some sympathy even with you.
Stephanie, or Steffie, is the last friend in your group of four. She is currently somewhere off-world on the front lines, fighting together with the Unified Light. She is a Magical Girl, the very most powerful thing humanity has at the ready. Restrictions for who can awaken that kind of power are much harsher than even for Practitioners, but they are all incredibly powerful.
At least Steffie will come back to spend a few days with you in a week or two.
"I get that," you tell Anna with sympathy. "But look at it this way: nobody expects you to join the war effort." Which is definitely a plus in your books, and the other two agree quietly.
You do not mention how you would like to have magic yourself; you are actually studying the theory of Brand Craft, one of the universally applicable forms of magic. Basically, magic runes without having to learn runes. Any language works, but things can explode in one's face really quickly.
Your father teaches Brand Craft and Magic Binary, and works in setting up civilian arrays, so you get some theoretical exercises from him. It still bothers you that you can not actually activate any of the arrays you create.
Aside from that, you also dabble in Magic Binary; which is more of a cousin to Brand Craft than an entirely different field. Many effects can be created with either of the two, though the former is exclusively about effects layered over an entire area.
There is also Necromancy in the generally applicable fields, which you never paid any attention to, and two more you forgot.
Shaking off those thoughts, you notice that your stop is up next and press the stop-button, then pick up your bag. "Looks like I have to go. I'll call you later."
"Yup, see you!"
"See you tomorrow!"
You hug them both and quickly make your way to the nearest door; the bus halts not much later and you are on the streets, just a few blocks from home. You have your bag slung over your shoulder and lazily greet some neighbours you know on the way.
After but one turn, someone runs into your side and almost knocks you over, a high-pitched squeak accompanying the collision. You quickly regain your balance and turn, finding a girl somewhere between eight and ten standing there. Her clothes are simple and she is a little weird in her looks, with long brown hair. Another identical girl with short hair stands right behind her, fidgeting and not meeting your gaze.
"Um, I'm sorry!" The long-haired girl quickly pipes out an apology in English, surprising you for a moment. Either she is messing with you, or they are foreigners. And a child that young messing with you like this sounds absurd.
You are almost sixteen, so you figure your English is good enough to talk to people. "It's fine. Are you okay?" The short-haired one giggles, most likely over your accent, and you only roll your eyes while trying to suppress a smile. That soft spot you have for children helps with staying calm at least.
Her twin interrupts that moment by confirming that she is fine, rather enthusiastically. You throw her an amused look. "Are you two alone?"
"Nope, we're with big... sis?" The lively twin looks around as she speaks, realising that the two are, indeed, by themselves. She looks again in confusion.
That is when her sister pulls on her arm. "Blanc said to slow down, now we lost her." You admit by yourself that the way the lively one pouts is funny, and almost get yourself to offer to help look for their big sister. Then you see her round the next corner.
Yes, you can see the resemblance that easily; she is about your age, has the same brown hair, a petite build, and laser-like focus on the twins the moment she sees them. Going from her frown, they are in for a scolding.
You know this is where you should leave it, but the whole situation did make you curious. Instead of saying goodbye, you wave at who you assume is Blanc with a sympathetic smile. The twins see it and turn to look, stiffening immediately; meanwhile, their sister gives them a look before turning to you. "Thanks for stopping them. Argentée just keeps running off."
Her voice is quite calm for a big sister who just found her younger siblings again, but you ignore that and shrug. "It's no problem. Are you tourists?" You know they are, but it is as good an opening as any.
Blanc nods, as do her sisters. "We are," she tells you with no difference to her voice. Then the long-haired twin, who you suspect is Argentée pipes up cheerfully: "Sis wanted to come here to learn Brand Craft!"
Here? That stumps you a little; Berlin and Munich have actual courses about that, but Hannover does not. Except for that big semiar held over the current week, where your father is also holding lectures.
Before you get further in your thoughts however, Blanc shushes her sister and shakes her head. "We take turns deciding where to go on our trips, and Perle wanted Germany. So I figured we can hit two birds with one stone."
You make an understanding noise and eye the trio again. "I understand. Where are you from?"
"The US," she returns without hesitation. So they are Americans. You nod again.
Then Argentée pokes Blanc's side with a mischievous smile. "Sis is crushing on that one teacher," she chirps without a care. Blanc only frowns while you try to remember what 'crushing' means. It takes a moment before you make the connection.
"I'm not. His workshop was just interesting." You believe her, though the idea of an amusing coincidence makes you wonder.
Before the sisters can start bickering, you interject: "Say, uh, what did he do in that workshop?" It is interesting to consider that she apparently took her sisters along; maybe they are all interested in Brand Craft. Or Blanc has no one to leave them with, but you rather not think about that.
The older sister considers you for a moment, her searching look only making you raise an eyebrow. "He, uh, explained layering of magical effects and how to make sure overlap doesn't lead to problems. There was an exercise about finding errors in provided arrays." That is a little beyond the words you know generally, but you get the idea.
"They were really easy," Perle offers shily and her twin nods cheerfully. "Yup, the words were all wrong!"
Sounds very much like something you know. You motion for them to wait and grab your phone to flick through it, talking as you do: "Yeah, I can imagine." You are not... particularly mad.
"Were you there, too? Do you like Brand Craft, too?!" Argentée is getting excited, and you can tell Blanc is wondering about something similar.
"No and yes, I don't need to go there." You find what you are looking for and turn your phone, showing you and a handsome gentleman in a suit standing together. "Is that him?"
The sisters all look at the picture, then at you. Your grin is ear-splitting, and Blanc gets a similar expression moments later. The twins keep looking back and forth until you pull your phone away. "That's my father and I made the arrays. They, uh, they are bad on purpose."
"Ohhhh!" You snort over Argentée's astonishment while Perle still looks at you as if trying to find out why you look nothing like your old man. Blanc shakes her head and mutters something about odds that you do not catch.
To keep your momentum, you lean closer to the children. "Want to hear a secret?" And just like that, their eyes sparkle. You throw Blanc another grin and lean down, the girls lending you their ears. "Papa cheats. He always knows when there is something wrong, even without looking."
For anyone practicing Brand Craft, the ability to tell if an array holds errors on a glance is immeasurable in its worth. As expected of a field where one wrongly set word or combination can potentially create miniature black holes.
The twins make impressed noises while you chuckle and pat their heads; neither minds it, though Perle fidgets a little.
You keep chatting with the three, though it is mostly Argentée doing the talking while her sisters stay quiet and listen. Between answering some of your questions and chattering in French to prove she does speak it, the lively girl asks you how life is around these parts, where they can eat good food, what places there are to go, and you have trouble following with how fast she talks at times.
You still answer her as best as you can, and carefully swallow the quip about not being in WW3's zone of impact before it can get out over the question how life is. She is a child, so that would be more than uncalled for.
By the end of it, after some nudging from Blanc that they should get going, Argentée hugs you without warning. "Goodbye, Heidi!" Though surprised, you hug her back and rub her back with a laugh.
"Yeah, you stay safe, okay?"
"Yup!"
She lets go and Blanc gives you a nod, though there is a faint smile on her face. Perle appears torn over something, but you can not say for sure what it is; you throw the timid twin a smile and hold out a hand to their older sister. "Have fun."
She takes it with another nod and begins to herd her sisters away. Both twins wave back, which you return; Argentée keeps it up until they are out of view.
At that point, you turn back to your original route and get going again. Life can be weird at times; this one was a nice kind of weird in your opinion.
. . .
IDENTIFIED BREAK LINE
. . .
Home is... quiet. Not that it is unusual, you are back before your father most of the time. After putting out your school report for him, you quickly go about putting your things away. It is summer break, meaning you have six weeks of freedom to spend at your leisure.
School supplies vanish in their respective drawers and your bag is stored at the bottom of your wardrobe. Then you pour yourself a glass of cold orange juice from the fridge and lounge on the couch to watch some TV for a while.
With only three lessons this day, you got home before noon despite being held up by the sisters earlier. Your usual shows are not on yet, but they are rerunning Digimon again; you never catch that one because you are still at school normally.
By the time the clock strikes three, you reluctantly turn off the TV and get into the kitchen. With just you and your father, housework was divided over time; he used to do more, but in time you refused to let him do all of it after working eight hours every weekday.
At this point, the split is about even. Each of you sorts their own clothes, he does the laundry, you are in charge of meals, and all cleaning is done together.
After a few years of being the main cook in the house, you got quite good at it too. Three pots and a pan for noodles, a sauce, some peas and carrots, and a few chicken filets respectively. Your father is inbound and would have sent a text if he was held up, so you get to work.
Half an hour later, you hear a key turning in the lock and the door opening. Good timing, seeing that you just shook out the noodles and put them in their bowl. Everything else is done, too.
Familiar steps tap toward the door and a head pokes in, revealing Julian Schmeling, your father. His brown hair is combed properly and the only wrinkles in his suit are from the long day he had; you do not really get why he wears that thing though, it is not necessary in his particular workplace. He says it makes people trust him more because he looks professional.
"Hey, Papa." You step over and kiss his cheek as you often do. "Hey, daughter," he returns after a moment before checking the stove. "Good time?"
"Good time. I'll bring everything over." He nods and slinks away to put his own bag into the study; by the time you are done carrying the bowl and remaining pots over, he is already seated at the living room table. Your school report was put aside for the time being, you note absently while on your last trip to get the pan.
The meal is mostly quiet, as both of you are hungry; forks and knifes clink on your plates once in a while, but you break the silence in the end: "How is the seminar going?"
His eyes turn to the side for a moment as he thinks. "Pretty well, I think. The children love picking your arrays apart. You're pretty good at appearing less smart than you are," he needles you with a wry smile.
In turn, you shrug and throw a smirk of your own right back. "Learned it from the best." He snorts and you take up the conversation: "I noticed the part with the children. Ran into some of them on the way home."
He takes a sip from his juice, though you can tell he is curious from the look he gives you. So you tell him a little more of your encounter with the sisters.
By the time you are done, the food is mostly gone and you are both full. The comfortable silence between you only lasts for a short while, though; it turns a little more tense when your father starts to make a show of reaching for your school report.
You brace for the inevitable and wait as he goes over your grades; all decent, some above average, but his mostly suppressed sigh tells you he saw the bad grade on social behaviour. Neither of you actually mentions it at this point, not unless you actually do something particularly bad, but you know he sees it all.
You know that it is not a good trait, and you tried hard not to be like this. It even got a little better, but you just can not help it. You would not even care normally, but your father's disappointment, no matter how well he hides it, hurts more than any amount of extra work or detentions ever could.
Picking fights with older children, refusing the teachers to the point they send you out of the classroom, you can not even talk to police officers without getting worked up. Staying calm is
not easy at all, and you know he knows that too.
You are yourself, and nobody is allowed to tell you what to do. At least that is what your feelings say.
And much to your dismay, they hold supremacy over your mind. A state needs rules to be upheld, and people to uphold those rules are also needed; even if you are anti-authoritarian, you have to accept that. Yet your heart does not let you, no matter how hard you try. The best you can do is get over yourself and apologise later. Sometimes. Maybe.
It has never been much different, but actually got
worse over the years. For every bit of compliance you manage to wring out of yourself, you get angrier and more defiant on the next encounter. For each apology you give, another refusal already builds.
You do it all for him; he always believed in you, trusts you to do better, and even stopped scolding you because he sees how hard you try. Disappointing him year after year hurts more than losing the fight against yourself.
Just why do I have to be this way?
It is a question you ask yourself at times, and normally there is no response forthcoming.
Today however, something deep within you answers; it is okay to refuse, to be who you want to be and take nothing from no one, unless you want to. Your life is yours, the feeling sings, and you gasp as your very soul joins its song.
"What's wrong?" He noticed your reaction, but you can not say anything; your chest constricts almost painfully for a moment before euphoria surges through every fibre of your being. Your chair falls backward as you get up and step away from the table. Your worries are forgotten as realisation fills you; mind, heart, and soul unite for the first time in ages, no longer divided.
Fate and destiny, weak and strong, good and evil, you refuse however you see fit. Silently screaming against all that would dare to hold you down, words form in your mind. They feel as natural as breathing, and so you intone: "As stolen flame sets fate ablaze, I rise as Magical Girl
Defiance!"
Your body shines brightly as magic floods through it, forming clothes. A simple metal bar materialises in your hand, of which you know it is so much more. The light subsides as fast as it appeared, leaving you standing in front of the table; a small shockwave rattled the plates and blew the paper towels down at your father's side of it, the man himself staring at you.
He is halfway around the table, and now visibly confused. "Who...? Where did you come from?"
You stare back at him, just as confused. When he makes to grab for the pen in his pocket, you raise your hands in alarm. "It's me! What's wrong, Papa?"
He blinks, looks again, and lets out a shaky sigh as you continue to stare at him wide-eyed. "Ah. That field really is strong." You have no idea what he is talking about, and he explains a moment later: "It's called Automatic Identity Protection and makes it so people can't recognise you. For a moment, I really had no idea you're my daughter."
"Oh." You had no idea that was a thing. Then your eyes narrow. "And you almost pointed the pen at me." His hand flinches back immediately and for the first time in a long while, he looks actually sheepish.
"Sorry about that. I'm a little on edge these days, with the war and all." He takes another deep breath to calm himself, which you do as well. His pen is dangerous after he modded it with Brand Craft. Using that on you would have ended ugly.
With the scare nearly forgotten, realisation clicks in your mind and you look down at yourself; the weapon in your hand is the most telling one, making a swirl of emotions fill your mind.
So much for being a normal girl. The magic now surging through you disagrees vehemently.
"Anyway, that... is unexpected." You quietly agree with your father's assessment; he has a hand on his chin and is considering you. "Hm. 'Defiance', you said?" He chuckles once you nod, and you can tell why immediately. Of course this had to happen at just this time, and with this particular name.
Though you have to admit that you did not feel as defiant at the moment. Mostly just curious. After giving your father a quick look, you dash out of the room before he even notices you are gone. The Handle, that is what your weapon is called, vanishes with a thought. It can be recalled at any time.
First of all, you check yourself in the big mirror in your room; the you that looks back still appears the same. Sharp features you got from your father, long silver hair, and eyes of a colour somewhere between blue and green, both of the latter inherited from your mother.
However, you are now clad in an outfit of silvers and turquoise, walking on heeled shoes and somehow pulling it off without even trying. The ribbons imitating a cape flutter a little when you spin on one heel, trying to take yourself in from all sides.
A sound from your door makes you turn, finding your father once again; he eyes you with an amused twinkle, to which you stick out your tongue. Then you still and look at him. "Hey, can I test the spell I got? I can't tell what it does, but I know it won't break anything."
It feels weird and you are curious what it will actually do. Maybe some kind of power boost. It stays obscure even though you know quite well what your weapons can do. Yes, plural. You have a whole
five of them! Well, technically. It's a little weird.
Your father thinks about it for long moments, making you worry about his response; you
know your spell is harmless by itself. It can not hurt anyone, your new senses tell you that much.
In the end, he nods. "Okay, if you're sure about it."
"Yes." You smile, having gotten permission and almost dying of curiousity. Magic surges as you speak a single word, focussing in front of you. "
Voyage!" Before you opens a gate, almost translucent and hardly visible to anyone but you who knows it is there. You smile for an instant, before you realise it quickly moves your way. Instincts stay quiet, and you learn your first lesson about magic in that moment: your instincts are not always trustworthy.
Before you can get out of it, the portal envelops you and then... then everything
is.
For a timeless instant, you are surrounded by an empty yet filled void, moving from a faint light to another. It is dark yet bright, the silence ear-shattering in a way. You drift through everything and nothing before the other light picks you up, the single moment in time becoming only a memory as you land... on hard earth.
Uttering a grunt as you impact the ground, you need a moment to raise your head and take in the surroundings. Your surroundings are rocky and a single tree stands on a hill in the distance. The small creak bubbling past you is the main source of noise, no animals in sight.
A light fog lies over everything, faintly illuminated by the fading moon. Morning has yet to break wherever you are.
Panic grasps your mind for several seconds, making you freeze up on the ground; getting your head to function takes a while, but you know you must not stay where you are. You need to find out wherever you are and how this happened.
First things first...
-------------
[] Where are you?
[] What happened?
[]EXP-Plan
-[] Write-in what to buy
-[] Save it
Shop is locked, EXP-spending is locked.
=====
+15xp They Aren't Related to Your Story, but you met Argentée, Perle, and Blanc
+80xp A Most Fantastic Journey Begins
+20xp In An Unfamiliar Land
EXP gained: 115
Total EXP: 115
=====
(Unlocked Main Character Sheet)
(Unlocked Friends/Allies page)
(Unlocked Level 5 Character Sheet: Julian Schmeling)
(Unlocked Level 5 Character Sheet: Anna Seidel)
(Unlocked Enemies/Opponents page)
(Unlocked Misc. page)
(Unlocked The Timeline)