Unwieldy (Fantasy & Hammers)

[Sarius]

Chapter 50: Hindle

Mayer had told Rethi and I to walk out towards the open plains where I usually trained to wait and so we did.

The young man beside me was seething with indignation, furious that he'd be left out of something that was integral to him. I wasn't anywhere near as worked up, maybe because it didn't concern me as much, but I could see when the boy was coming from. It's entirely possible that I simply expected this sort of stuff.

Mayer, at his core, was a man of mystery to us. His history was largely opaque to me, and even the parts that I did know about were convoluted and highly specific at best. I knew about his involvement with Ryan, the Champion from the last war, and knew enough that he was a soldier of some note during the war itself and, obviously, came to Virsdis from Orisis for unknown reasons.

For him to have a powerful blade was almost a no-brainer and being told that he was going to pass it on to Rethi was pretty par for the course. In a way, I was more Mayer's equal than an apprentice, Rethi was the one to truly fit that role.

I learnt most of what I know myself, though Mayer did spark most of what I did learn. Rethi had grown close to the older man, treating him almost like a grandfatherly figure. Mayer taught the boy everything he knew of combat, mostly against me as a practice dummy. The sword style Rethi was taught was 'standard, military grade stuff', in Mayer's own words, though it was easy enough to see that was an understatement.

Mayer had refined that sword style through Gods know how many battles and experiences. To say that it was a standard sword style was almost an out and out lie. Though Mayer was humble to a fault, generally, and hadn't exactly been jumping at the chance to give his own personalized sword style an actual name. Though his student has a different idea about that.

The poor boy seemed blindsided by this, and I had the instinct to reach out and comfort his confusion and frustration, but I thought that it might be best to just let him find his way through it, along with learning more about Mayer's plan for him.

In the distance I saw Mayer slowly walking towards us, in his hands an object wrapped in rough cloth, like you'd find made into a potato sack. Rethi and I waited patiently for the man to finally stop in front of us, silent and sporting a dour expression.

"Rethi, Maximilian…" The older man began, "there is much that I have not told you of my past. Some of that past I will talk about here." I nodded, unperturbed. Rethi's jaw and fists clenched, but he had the sense to wait for the man to continue.

Mayer started to unwrap the cloth from about the sword. It was a slow, methodical process, and it was only due to my natural empathic abilities that I was able to see the man's feelings.

It was… confusing. This blade was something that he never wanted to see again. It instilled in him equal parts of hope and strength, will and fear. A relic of his own past that terrified even him.

The cloth wrapping slowly unfurled from the blade, revealing an odd, but entirely mundane looking blade. It was maybe a little bigger than the standard sword that Mayer had trained Rethi in, though it was a lot wider than normal. The usually thin blade made for manoeuvrability and lightness was replaced with a wide and thick double-edged blade.

There was seemingly no grip, leaving only a raw tang to grab. No pommel or even a handguard, though the wideness of the blade served similarly anyways. The colouring was odd, even in the light of the sun slowly setting. It was a bronze colour, but looking like it was severely burnt, dark scaling covering the blade. Honestly, the blade looked half finished.

Looking towards Rethi, I could see the confusion and disappointment on his face. He felt like he was being cheated, for sure. Maybe even being tricked, not that Mayer made a habit of that. Though Mayer didn't let the silence linger too long.

"This blade is named Hindle. It is the Divine sword of Light and was my companion through much of the Champion War, as well as for many years after that." Mayer grabbed the metal tang of the blade, and in that moment we Rethi and I both saw the blade in truth.

The blade roared to life, the metal shining brightly, though not gaudily. It looked no different in form, but it now shone with the light of the evening sun, warm and confident even as it slowly hid behind Orisis. The metal that looked so tarnished before glowed with a radiance I didn't know was possible, as if it were a window to the sun itself.

"This blade was created untold millennia ago, gifted by the First One of the Sun to who he considered his mortal son. A warrior of untold might and unparalleled greatness. However, all must die, and so the blade fell into the hands of a Keeper—and thus the Court of Mysteries. Hidden from the world." Even as Mayer spoke, I could see the man change. The smile lines that coursed through the old man's skin like dried-up river beds slowly crept away, leaving the man who looked in his sixties fall in age to ten years younger. I could feel the bewilderment from Rethi, his eyes wider than dinner plates, staring at the man he had known to be impressive all this time, but realising just how impressive was still a shock.

That was the thing. Mayer radiated power like nothing I've ever seen. The only other comparable people are Armament and Gallar, a First One himself. Mayer's presence was overwhelming, standing in the field and radiating like a miniature sun, an ironclad monolith of security and a symbol of hope.

Suddenly I could understand why the Hearth Court's first pick was Mayer.

"However,' Mayer said, his voice just as radiant as his presence, "I can no longer use Hindle." The light sputtered and died, the radiance that had so quickly become normal disappeared, leaving me feeling cold in spite of being resistant to the climate in general.

"W–" Rethi started, confused, "Why?" Mayer grinned sadly.

"It's nothing special, Rethi. It's not that I am too old, or too weak to use Hindle, but that I don't have the will for it anymore."

"The will?" I asked, gently probing the man. Mayer nodded, a dark cloud of emotion shadowing his thoughts.

"I was a strong young man, prideful and righteous. I'm proud of who I was, even now." He looked out to the distance pensively. "I was like that for many, many years. Decades upon decades. And when the Champion War began in earnest, Armament appeared before me and granted me Hindle."

"Wait, how old are you exactly?" I asked, eyebrows scrunching up. Mayer's grin broke through the dark cloud of his emotions.

"Old." He replied unhelpfully, "I was close to dead when the first Champions arrived, life being extended because of my ability to shift, but I was night on close to one-hundred and thirty. After Ryan came and Hindle was granted to me, well…" He gestured to himself. The de-aging from earlier had mostly diminished, but there had been a noticeable permanent effect. Hindle had de-aged him from an age where his deathbed was just around the corner to a middle-aged man.

"You're saying that sword makes you immortal?" Rethi gaped, but Mayer laughed.

"Not immortal, child, but pretty close to it. It's nothing like Campion healing, or whatever Max has now, you'll still die from having your head lopped off, but other than that you can't die from old age or sickness and become highly resistant to ether of all sorts." Mayer shrugged casually. The effects of the sword were great, but nothing of interest to me. Though that put my brain onto something else. After doing some quick mental math, I realised that Mayer was a whopping one-hundred and thirty years old before he received Hindle, roughly, and that was around when he met Ryan. It's been seventy odd years since then, according to the man himself.

"You're two-hundred years old, Mayer." Mayer just snorted.

"No need to make me feel any older, Max." Rethi gaped at his teacher's age.

"I'm not even close to the oldest person you've met. The both of you." Mayer accused jokingly, as if his pride was being assaulted.

"That Keeper? Was he the same Keeper that took the sword from the original wielder of Hindle?" Rethi asked, dumbfounded. Mayer shook his head.

"No. The Keepers are ancient but are still mortal. I do not know much about Armament, but from the way the depictions of the Keepers change over time, Armament has been a Keeper for quite a few thousand years." Rethi still seemed mind boggled by that, and honestly, I couldn't help but to be either. I had expected the age with Gallar being probably millions of years old, but Mayer? He was almost ten times my age. I may as well be a two-year-old in his eyes.

"Anyway. It has come the time to return the blade to Armament. It was something I always knew was coming, but for it to happen in conjunction with your appearance on Virsdis is simply bad luck. However, Armament seems to be allowing me to let the sword go to the next generation. And I have chosen the next wielder of Hindle to be you, Rethi." Rethi knew all this but was still dumbfounded by Mayer's declaration.

The pure power that Mayer had shown, just holding the blade totally recontextualized Mayer passing it onto Rethi. In essence, the man was offering a young boy true power and agency. As for me? I felt blessed in a totally different way than I already was. In the past few hours, I had felt so many unique emotions from other people. Awe, fear, anger, sadness, elation, happiness…

"Are you seriously crying, Max?" Mayer said, his face morphing into a wry amusement, Rethi spinning around and looked at me, shocked. I chuckled as I wiped the tears from my face with my sleeves.

"What's with those faces, guys. Can't a man cry?" Rethi just looked concerned.

"W– why are you crying?" he asked anxiously. The boy hadn't ever seen me cry, and I could feel his emotions flare strongly. I was a strange and alien creature to Rethi. A literal Demigod. I can't fault him for thinking that I'd be above emotions.

But I wasn't.

I walked forwards towards Mayer arms outstretched. He rolled his eyes at me, but he put the Divine Weapon aside and returned the gesture. I hugged the comparatively small, and much older man strongly.

I could feel the emotion well in him, and I started to get a real idea of what passing on this blade meant to him.

In some ways it was an absolution. To give the blade to someone else, for some else to take the burden of its power and the weight of the actions taken with the blade. But in other ways it was an act of mourning. This blade, however estranged he had become from it, had been his partner in truth, the last symbol of himself left after the war.

He was passing everything that he was worth down to Rethi, and even then he knew that he didn't have the time. We were on a schedule that finished with the worlds dying. He didn't even have the luxury of training the young boy for years to come, to allow him to perfect the blade and surpass him in every way.

With that I pulled back from the man, nodded to him solemnly, and left, leaving them to speak properly.

---​

Maximilian had left a few hours ago and since then Mayer and Rethi had been sitting across from each other, the divine blade he was set to inherit, Hindle, laying between them.

Rethi, the beggar boy. He was going to wield a divine blade, of all things.

Every word out of Mayer's mouth was unable to quell that excitement. The massive number of options that opened due to that ragged looking sword was mind fuddling.

"Rethi." Mayer said gently. "You need to understand that inheriting this blade… it isn't fun, or good. It feels so at first. The power at your fingertips is astounding, the ability to do anything." Mayer recounts wistfully.

"But it doesn't stay that way forever. Soon it becomes chains that bind you. In every moment you wonder how you could be using that power better, more efficiently. How could you save more lives, defeat more foes. The obsession will destroy you, if you are not careful."

Rethi took it in. He understood, he really did. He understood the risks of power. In fact, Max had talked about it at great length. He had taken in what the man was trying to teach him, but always thought that it was a worry for the actually powerful, not children with a sword, like him.

His mind couldn't help but wander back to the tall form of Max, strongly hugging the old man in front of him, tears leaking from his eyes. Did Max know that he was going to get this sword? That he was going to find this power somehow?

"I understand, Master Mayer." Rethi said to the older man softly, "But what choice do I have? For months I've wondered what use I'd be to Master Max, out there on the battlefield he'd find himself on. I have no doubt that Master Max would find something for me to do, maybe even something great. But now Alena is a life shifter…" He stopped, the silence laying heavy on my shoulders until the wielder of Hindle looked up at Rethi with a small smile and spoke.

"That's good. To feel useful, to contribute, to be accepted amongst your peers is a valuable aspiration, though as all-consuming it may be. Know that Maximilian will need you just as much as you need him. He will always be more powerful than you, in one way or another, but you will one day stand amongst the most powerful people alive, as I once did. And your commitment to use that power for your friends…"

"That's what you need to hold on to, potentially at the cost of everything."


A/N: And here we sit at 50 whole chapters. That's a few chapters, my guys. Thankfully I've still got quite a few in the tank ; )

 

[Sarius]

Chapter 51: A Pact

I watched Rethi prepare for the passing on of Hindle over the next few days.

It was mostly a meditation type exercise, consisting of Rethi and Mayer sitting down cross legged silently for hours on end. I'm sure that Rethi would find it boring beyond boring if a divine sword wasn't the end goal, but I wonder what the use of the meditation was for.

Rethi had been taught very limited shifting, so it wasn't as if meditating would significant boost his capabilities, and even then, what would he use it for?

Master and student were inseparable for a few days, and I kept to myself during. This was Rethi's moment to shine. I've had my moment for months now, and the boy's emotional state was wired with anticipation and jubilation. If I butted into that with any reason less than absolutely necessity, I'd just be an asshole.

So, instead I put myself to other uses. Number one on the list was swinging by and having a conversation with Alena who, as far as I can tell, has been out of the loop since she got back.

I made my way easily towards the Apothecary, not much in the way of traffic, everyone busy at work. Gram's Apothecary was open, as usual, the scent of dried herbs and a mixture of what must've been thousands of potent smells leaking out of the door and into the unruly streets of the unnamed town.

Now that I think of it, it's pretty impressive that Gram managed to put together a collection that big, maybe he managed to get word out that he wanted medicinal herbs through the travelling merchants that swing by on occasion, something that should become more common now that Rethi and I dealt with the main reason people didn't dare make the trip.

I took a step into the store and saw Michael Gram rifling through the numerous bottles and drawers, obviously searching for something.

"Good afternoon, Michael." I said happily. The man in question froze, jumping slightly at my voice. He turned towards me without even a smile.

Since the time I caught Michael Gram taking a peek at an exhumed corpse that was not given to him, the man has been nothing but cordial and exceptionally frightened of me. I got the distinct impression that whenever he looked at me, he saw a snake, eyeing a chirping chick in a nest. This time, however, the man was clearly angry with me, only supported by a hint of fear.

I didn't try and reinforce the man's perception of me, but it seemed to only grow over time, which meant that every time I dealt with him, I came out feeling more and more like a villain, not something I really liked about myself.

"Avenforth." He began, his jaw clenched, and body tensed, which was almost comical on his scholarly frame. I quirked an eyebrow, sensing the ensuing argument. I turned back to the door and pulled it closed, and closing the blinders on the windows as well, leaving the room far darker than before, the light forced into golden bands, bleeding through the gaps.

"What is this about, Gram." I said quietly, and the man practically exploded.

"What do you mean! You convinced my daughter that her… abilities are perfectly safe! Are you insane?" Gram yelled, incensed. I crossed my arms over myself and looked at the man sternly.

"Perfectly safe?" I chuckled, "Hardly. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you could be a legendary killer with her exact skillset." The man gaped at me, anger rushing forwards to overtake the shock of my words.

"But," I continued, "the same could be said for your own abilities. Many of your own kind have committed horrors, you even contributed your own to that pile, did you not?" My accusing tone dissuaded the man for a moment before he pushed forward.

"You have no idea the kind of horrors that her abilities can breed. You had no right to tell her to use them!" I took a few steps closer to the irate man and stared deep into his eyes, purposely turning off my safety aura which I typically kept on.

"Gram. Who, exactly, do you think she has been experimenting on to learn to use her abilities?" I asked darkly. I wasn't angry, and neither did that show in my voice, but the man wasn't going to listen to me if he was running high on all the anger that he had. I needed to assert myself.

And it worked. Confusion filled the man as his anger drained.

"Who?" He asked dubiously. I shook my head ruefully.

"Me, Gram. She has been experimenting on my body since we learned of her powers." His eyes widened as he frantically looked me up and down, searching for something.

"H-how? You couldn't possibly survive a failed shift!" I thought for a moment on how to answer the man.

Fact is, not many people actually know about me being a Champion, or anything of the sort. I spend most of my time with others that know my status that I've almost forgotten the fact that I need to hide that from the outside world. But, even if I cannot tell just anyone about being a Champion, or a Demigod for that matter, I can keep things vague and let them fill in the blanks themselves.

"I am Mayer Renue's nephew. My origin past that is none of your business. What I can do is none of your business. But I can assure you that there is almost nothing your daughter could possibly do to me that would permanently harm or kill me." I said, my voice like iron. Gram nodded his head shakily, not wanting to dig deeper into that conversation more than he needed to, probably fearing that he'd displease me.

"Why, though? My daughter, she is young and… if anything happened to her…" He trailed off, worry clouding his mind.

"The why is simple, Gram." I lectured, as if speaking to a child, "You should know just as well as I that life shifting has astounding potential. Where I come from, such an ability could only be dreamed about, the endless possibilities." My wistful tone seemed to sway him ever so slightly. He was a doctor. Exceptionally advanced for, frankly, a backwater like this. It was impossible that he hadn't gone to sleep and dreamt of what could be done with that power.

"However, the other point is muddy. But I think something is clear. You cannot protect her from herself." Gram's body tensed and anger rose to fight me, but I waved it away with a hand, reasserting my safety aura, "You couldn't stop her from following us on a trip she knew to be dangerous, to follow a boy she loves. She would hardly be content to watch Rethi drift away into her memories, forever gone on an adventure away from here. She is young, yes. But, how long can you keep her bottled up in this little nowhere-town?" I asked genuinely and found the answer on Grams face. I didn't even need to look into the man's emotions to know that he felt defeated.

He walked around the counted and reached underneath, finding two cups and a bottle of some alcohol. He placed the two cups down and poured a small amount into the bottom of each, pushing one across the counter towards me.

I took the glass and smelled it. It smelt strong enough to sterilize a wound. He might even have it for that reason. I downed the drink in one blow, my unnatural constitution the only thing stopping me from coughing my lungs up afterwards. The other man didn't seem to notice the slight strain on my face as he downed the glass soullessly.

"I know." He said mournfully, "I always did. At the start—when her mother was still alive—it was a secret even from me. I never knew that life shifting was passed down through bloodline, and her mother was an exceptionally powerful one and a brilliant doctor, in her own right." I smiled at the reminiscing man, softly urging him to continue with my aura of Safety.

"After years of learning, studying and practicing medicine I heard rumours. A tribe in the far reaches of Orisis that collected those with the ability to life shift, teaching them to become the greatest life shifters on the planet—a far cry from the horrors we learned about in bedtime stories.. I wanted to know about them terribly, to learn what they knew and bring that back with me, to advance understanding of medicine for the benefit of everyone, rich and poor of every race. I went there and found her mother, the youngest daughter of the tribe's priestess, and then we eloped against the wishes of our families. I was, from then on, the dark horse of my family to all except my father." That was odd, atypical even. Usually the fathers were the ultimate adversarial force in families like these.

"It wasn't until my father died years later that I learnt that he had left me everything medical he owned. Suddenly I owned one half of the greatest repository of medical knowledge on Virsdis, the other was in the hands of my wife's sisters." The man poured another glass, offering to refill mine, but I declined.

"My wife was a paragon of kindness. Truly something rare, and when I learned she was with child, I knew she would be a great mother." A silly grin tinged with old pain grew on the doctor's face, a remembrance of a happier time.

"After Alena was born, things became odd. Indescribable things started happening that I couldn't help but clue into. I would find small rodents covered in tumours around out house, our pet dog at the time miraculously healed from an injury that I had determined was fatal. I confronted my wife and was told the truth, that my daughter had inherited life shifting. Young children with life shifting aren't capable of controlling it, which is why my wife's tribe would take them from their families, with life shifters capable of counteracting a small child's missteps. We began to run from place to place, seeking refuge from those that began to question things to closely." The middle-aged man sighed deeply, downing more alcohol, and rubbing his hand against his lightly haired head.

"When my wife died something was lost, a link between Alena and I." The man didn't need to talk about the circumstances of his wife's death for me to feel the emotions triggered by remembering it. First was the fear, overwhelming and all encompassing, like watching the world shatter beneath your feet. Then came the hopelessness, and the tough decision. The decision that brought finality and an intense sadness that never truly left.

I closed my eyes to the emotions, finding myself slightly overwhelmed. It was something that was both band and boon. I was able to empathise with someone's very emotions, say that I could truly understand, but the cost was clear and all the more heart wrenching when you could do nothing.

"You're right." He said after a long moment of silence between us, staring down into his empty glass. "I can no longer protect her from the outside world, from the persecution she would face if someone was to find out that she was a life shifter. I know that she will leave, as I once did with her mother, but knowing that she will be actively trying to learn to actually life shift?" The man shivered like a cold breeze had hit him suddenly.

"Michael, I cannot guarantee that your daughter will face no persecution, nor will I be capable of protecting her from all the world's dangers." The man slumped slightly, "But, I can say that I will do everything within my power to keep her safe." Then the room was flooded with light.

I was overwhelmed with a sensation of something tying itself to me, to my soul, in a powerful way. It was an inherently anxiety inducing feeling, much like when someone was manhandling my hammer, but with no pain whatsoever.

The man before me looked at me with wide eyes, radiance beaming from me like a warm fire. He swallowed dramatically, speaking with a shaky voice.

"Well, that was a touch overboard, don't you think?" I just smiled, no knowing what happened at all, but assuming that the other man did.

"Either way," I said as the warm light beaming off of me died down, "I will protect your daughter the best I can, especially in learning her own abilities. I hope that one day she will be the reason why the world accepts life shifters and wishes to train them rather than shun them." The sighs heavily.

"Alright, alright. You've made your point. Why don't you leave me alone with my thoughts for a bit. I'll…" The man paused, searching the bottom of his glass, "I'll talk to Alena about this. I need to tell her many things."

I found it odd the man was so easy to convince after the light but I nod at the man and, with a silent farewell, leave him to his drink.

Now that I was outside of the man's storefront…

What the fuck was that?

"You made a Divine Pact." A cold, hard voice replied to my inner thoughts. I snapped around to look at the cloaked Keeper.

"Armament." I greeted quickly, "A Divine Pact?" The hood nodded.

"Those in connection to the Gods," he said while walking in the direction of Mayer's home, "find themselves capable of creating Divine Pacts, which holds their soul ransom for that which they promise. It seems, Demigod, that you have accidentally made a promise you must keep." I swear that I could hear amusement in the man's stone voice.

"I– well… I guess it doesn't change much." I said hesitantly, "I was going to do it anyways, ransoming my soul or not, but the pressure is on now, hey?" I asked rhetorically, and the hood just bobbed in agreement.

We walked in silence after that, the path quickly losing out to the beaten road that finally made its way to Mayer's home.

"Come, little God. Today we see the birth of a great warrior."

 

[Sarius]

Chapter 52: Midday

After our short conversation, I followed the Keeper into the home I had spent most of my time in after I had managed to get myself interdimensional-ly teleported to Virsdis, and found it distinctly different than normal.

Instead of the regular casual and relaxing atmosphere, it was now almost a place of sacrosanct worship. The Keeper and I walked quietly through the corridor and into the loungeroom, where both Mayer and Rethi were, sitting on the floor, having moved all the chairs and other furniture aside.

Mayer sat across from the younger man, his eyes closed and expression stiff, like he was fighting off pain. Rethi looked similarly, thought the grimace seemed like it was more due to his discomfort than any pain he might be feeling. It occurred to me that, for the good part of the few days the Keeper had allowed himself to wait, all they had been doing had been meditate.

It was clear enough to me that they were participating in a ritual of some description, fitting for a divine blade like Hindle was.

The blade was nowhere to be seen, as of yet, but it probably would show itself soon enough, especially now that the Keeper himself was here and was fixated on the ritual in front of him. I looked deeper, trying to see what he was, but came up empty. I don't know if he has the ability to see ether, though I hadn't had it mentioned that it was at all possible, but I certainly wouldn't be surprised if it was possible.

Mayer, prying himself from his meditative slumber, stood and turned towards the fireplace behind him, and moving a few logs around, revealed the cloaked form of Hindle itself. Thinking about it, it made sense. The longs never needed changing because Mayer created the fire that heated the lounge out of his own shifting, so it was hardly surprising that he'd hidden Hindle in there.

A bit on the nose if you ask me. Hindle was a blade of light, not heat or flame, but still. I almost chuckled but felt that it'd be wrong to do so. Everyone was taking this very seriously at the moment. It might be why Rethi hadn't deigned to tell his girlfriend that he was going to come into possession on a Divine Blade of Light and invite her to the ceremony. She probably would be able to stop herself from asking about everything they were doing, straight to the extremely powerful Keeper.

Mayer moved back towards Rethi, slowly unfurling the cloth from the blade, being inordinately careful around the edge of the blade. I could only assume that it was extremely sharp, otherwise it being a Divine Blade kind of lost its purpose. If it wasn't sharp, it may as well be a club.

As soon as the full blade of the sword was revealed, if began to shine softly, but there was no mistaking it's radiance. Rethi opened his eyes to look at Mayer, who seemed to search his pupil's eyes intently. Though, whatever he did or didn't find, he was pleased with, and nodded towards Rethi's eager visage.

Rethi gently reached out towards the blade, placing his hands underneath the older man's as if ready to catch the blade from falling, which just so happened to be the case, as Mayer dropped the Divine Sword into Rethi's hands.

Though, despite physical appearances, this was something that I felt in my very core. In a way it was similar to what I had experienced not even an hour ago. The forming of a soul bound contract. Instead of forming, though, Mayer was unmaking his.

The unmaking of this contract was not without its own fanfare, as a light surrounded the man similar to how it had earlier for me, and less intensely than he had shown when he had revealed the blade to Rethi and I. Though, as soon as it had appeared, the light surrounding him shattered like a stained glass window.

The man slumped backwards, letting out a soft groan as he fell back, having to support himself with his elbows. I almost moved forwards, concerned for the old man, but the powerful arm of the even more ancient Keeper held me fast, a short shake of his head enough warning. I held fast and simply resigned myself to observe what happened next.

Which wasn't much at first. Rethi was deadly still, unnaturally so. You'd swear that he was a statue, and if not that some macabre puppet. But, without even so much as breathing, holding the sword like you saw mortals holding divine items or children in renaissance paintings, almost lazily allowing the cloth that had surrounded the sword to drape over his arms.

It wasn't until the boy started to pulse with divine energy that I realised that he was offering himself to the blade, his soul and all. Which, obviously, immediately worried me, but Mayer knew what he was doing, and questioning him right in the middle of something of this magnitude was just about the most arrogant thing I think someone could possibly do.

The boy before me, now pulsing, started to also flow faintly in a similar light, though it was distinct from Mayer's earlier light. This light held the heat of a hot afternoon sun.

Armament reacted…somehow. I wasn't sure how, but I know that he did. My natural empathy told me so, just not what. He seemed somewhat impervious to my emotional sensing. I couldn't tell if it was a good or bad reaction, just that it was a reaction at all.

Rethi's light continued to grow, slowly leeching into his skin and his body as a whole, infusing its power into him. I had expected something like this, but when the power started to manifest as tearing skin, and flame spewing forth from within the boy's body, shock took over.

I desperately tried to get a mental read on Rethi, but I came up with nothing. He was immune to my empathic senses while in whatever state he was in currently, which just meant that I had no idea if he was in pain or needed help or not.

Mayer, who had managed to recover himself, if only slightly, now looked like he had been stabbed…

Wait, Mayer was bleeding from his stomach, the blood soaking through his simple shirt. His body covered in a thick coating of sweat, only just holding back gasps of pain and exhaustion.

How had he been stabbed? And why? I thought, before I almost hit myself on the side of the head from how dumb that train of thought was.

Of course it was the not-so-damned sword, exacting its own revenge for abandoning it to another master. I wondered, then, if Hindle was sapient or just sentient, to the level of a dog or something similar.

I wouldn't put it past the Divine Blade to have some measure of intellect.

Turning my eyes away from Mayer with some difficulty, I looked back to Rethi, whose body was now spewing even more fire. Interestingly, while the fire definitely being present, and it feeling hotter in the room, I had a sneaking suspicion that it only felt that way, and wasn't truly the case.

The flame spewing from the boy's body would have licked something by now, and knowing it's divine origin, I wouldn't put burning something to char on contact past it. Something well and truly terrifying,

Burns are something that cause a lot of damage to the body, and even with healing capabilities as good as mine, it'd always be easier and faster to simply cut out the burned part of my flesh than let it heal back from the extremely damaged state it was in.

Turning flesh into char on contact, especially considering that doing that much damage effectively made the entire limb a write off, just meant that other Champions, if not even I, had to be careful around it.

If used correctly, the blade could easily allow for someone to kill a Champion, especially if you could catch a Champion's entire body in a strike somehow. I'm pretty sure that would kill me.

I watched on in a concerned awe as the young boy I had picked up all those months ago now sat before me, beaming in divine light and flame bleeding from his skin, power radiating like the aura of light that surrounded him.

This intensity only grew as the blade resting in Rethi's hands silently became a mini-sun, emitting flame from the blade in enough quantity to encapsulate Rethi's hands and leave the pieces of the cloth that wasn't in the small sun's radius falling to the floor. Initially I was worried that the ball of flame had taken his hands as well, but as the ball floated upwards and revealed his hands I sighed, relieved that the stupid thing hadn't handicapped its own weilder.

The sword began to thrum its own divine energy tune, at first being discordant with Rethi's but slowly, over about a minute, became in synch as could be, layering over each other in a harmonious fashion, making it sound as if there were a third note being sung with the sacred energy.

Then, in just a moment, the sun split in half, as if cut, revealing the blade forged anew from a new soul, a new flame to be tempered by.

The sword still had its odd blade shape and size, but now it had a hilt, elegant but powerful the hilt was made of a crafter metal and wrapped in a dark leather, bright yellow gemstones that whispered of the sun's light, about having bathed in its warmth for millennia set into the eyes of a fanged dragon's head that served as the blade's pommel.

The gloriously bronze blade itself was almost untouched, apart from a more distinct fuller down the centre of the blade and the polished and maintained. If someone with an untrained eye looked at only its physical appearance, basically myself, they'd assume that Hindle were simply a showpiece blade, commissioned by someone with a bit of wealth because it looked cool. And I definitely would.

But while I couldn't speak about the actual practicality of the blade itself, most of which is probably negated due to it being divine in nature, something I was relatively good at was sensing emotions.

Hindle had emotions, or whoever or whatever lived inside of Hindle was capable of emotions. How could I tell?

Overwhelming joy and pride. It radiated out from the blade exactly like it's light, assailing my eyes and mind at the same time, making it impossible to even close my eyes to the intruding light. Rethi, who had previously been covered in heat and flame, was now simply glowing like Mayer had, his flesh bright and golden, like someone was shining a light through his muscle.

Rethi's eyes opened, and his eyes, which used to be a mundane green colour, were now a brilliant gold. The boy radiated just as much joy as the blade had when it had released itself from itss cocoon of a sun, revealing its newfound form to itss weilder. Rethi himself looked… stronger. Much, much stronger.

In fact, from what I could feel, Rethi's aura was qualitatively different to Mayer's.

Mayer's aura while holding Hindle had been the gentle but warm evening sun, the beginning on the sleepy night waiting around the corner. It held a lot of light, but not much heat or strength behind it. It was the end of the day, the quiet disappearance of the smiling sun.

Rethi, however, was the midday sun, radiant in both heat and light, overbearing but also ultimately benevolent with its power to give life to that which we rely on. Its intensity overwhelming in every facet it could be, for midday is its moment to give its gifts of light and warmth, to spur life to evolve and live on, if only to see the next dawn.

It was intense to look at.

"W-whoa." Rethi said finally, after sitting there like an idiot, staring at his own glowing skin, the faint outline of bone underneath his flesh. I couldn't help myself from laughing.

"Seriously Rethi? You pull that stunt and that's the best you've got?" I chuckled, and the boy turned to glare at me, a blush appearing on his radiant features.

"Shut up!" He said with false anger, but Mayer cleared his throat, ignoring the two of us. Our gazes turned towards the man who was now sweating even further, his silver hair dripping with sweat as well, a look of exhausted amusement written across his usually stoic and stern features.

"Rethi." He said quietly, but with a strange power that made me almost believe you could hear those whispered words hundreds of metres away, "You are now the wielder of Hindle. You have assumed the title Midday, for you are the second to hold the true power of Hindle, unlike I who had only wielded a fraction of its strength, being Evening. Welcome, Midday Orsen." Mayer spoke ceremoniously, bowing his tired and struggling form towards the ground.

Rethi, realizing himself, seemed prepared and placed the sword beside himself and bowed similarly towards Mayer.

There was a powerful thrum through the air, and this time I didn't need to even look at Armament to know he was smiling.

The next Divine Warrior of the Sun was born. Midday Orsen.

 

[Sarius]

Chapter 53: Fisticuffs

Keeper Armament didn't allow the boy his excitement for long, though. The dark, hooded man walked over to Rethi and pulled him up from his place on the floor like he was as light as a feather and placed him on his feet.

"Let's see how well you fare in combat against the Demigod, shall we, little Midday?" Rethi, though surprised, simply nodded and looked at me with a set of hungry eyes. I couldn't help myself and grinned back at the boy. Rethi had been wailing on me for months, and now it seemed like I was going to be able to get a good fight out of him.

Rethi rushed out, barely able to contain himself from running towards out usual spot. I took a backward glance at the kneeling form of Mayer, and he waved me off with a grin that told me that he'd be fine. I nodded at the man, making sure to keep an eye on his emotional state. For the most part, though, he felt relieved that the blade was passed on.

Good enough for me.

I ran after him, following the ball of sunny excitement that was Rethi, followed closely by Keeper Armament, his footsteps silent even on the hard dirt road beneath our feet.

It made me reminisce on the first time that Mayer had brought me out here to learn 'footwork', a singular even that sparked a change in who I was. The Sharah had been formative for me and Rethi both, most of our every movements somehow reminiscent to the strange dance I'd once seen Mayer perform on dark grass. Now, a walk that used to take forty minutes now only took a few as we raced out to our regular spot.

Then, all of a sudden, we were standing across from each other, wide grins plastered onto our faces. Rethi's excitement was addicting, a warm and sunny emotion by nature, and my mind was bathing in it with reckless abandon.

The Keeper stood between us, shadowed form turning to look at each of us intensely.

"No weapons, just fists." We both nodded, taking the Keeper's words as law. If anyone was qualified to officiate a match, it was Keeper Armament. The intensity of the upcoming match burned between us, our eyes blazing with that same intensity, scouring each other for possible movements and stratagems.

"Go." And when the Keeper called the start of the match, the world slowed to a standstill. Rethi was the first one to make a move, pulling himself tight and rushing forwards, feet blazing with the speed. But I waited, seeing his movements a mile away.

He may be a hell of a lot faster than before, but he still fought the exact same way. Let's see if I can show him how true warriors fight.

As the boy drew close enough, my legs bent, breaking Rethi's belief of what was possible with the human body. Because of course, I didn't have a human body. By now, I was a little past that.

My legs bent, lowering myself to an angle that was irrecoverable with regular human strength and flexibility, but with my overpowering strength and decent agility, I was able to bent and twist myself, using momentum to swing my body around and towards the boy's legs.

I let go of my grip on the ground, sending my body hurtling forwards, ever so slightly removed from the ground, allowing me to grab onto Rethi's leg and use my own force to pull him to the ground, forcing his legs out from underneath himself.

But he didn't allow himself to go down so easily. As soon as his body started shifting downwards, he put his arms out, digging his hands into the dirt and using that anchor point to pull his body forwards, pulling me along with a surprising amount of strength. Then, in one smooth motion, he straightened the leg I was holding onto and pulled his body up into a flip, launching me up into the air like a catapult.

As I was flung into the air so easily, I somersaulted, repositioning myself to look at the boy that had flung me. Our eyes met and out grins grew even wider.

Finally, a real challenge!

Mayer had never truly fought me head on. Maybe he wasn't strong enough without using Hindle, too many years of not wielding the blade and its power having faded, forcing him to use his powerful shifting to compensate. But Rethi had just been infused with the power of the Midday Sun itself, his flesh blazing with an unmistakable golden warmth.

My feet hit the ground and, without a moments reprieve, Rethi was onto me. His fists pummelled against my body like hammer blows, rupturing skin and muscle only to heal moments later. I grabbed one of his wrists, flipping him over myself in an adapted jiu-jitsu throw, but he was too quick for that.

His feet hit the ground before the rest of his body, allowing him to pull into himself, forcing me to let go of his wrist or he could pull me down with him, but I was already up on my feet and simply turned towards the boy and began to pummel down on him, using my almost foot longer reach against him, slamming him with kick to his own legs that brutalized my legs as much his own.

Thing was, Rethi's regeneration was far slower than mine, but observable. It'd probably take him a good few minutes to recover from a broken bone, but minor flesh wounds would be the downfall of him.

Rethi quickly learned this as well, meaning that he knew that he wouldn't be able to win a battle of attrition and he needed to go on the offensive. He pulled into himself like an upturned beetle and then rocked forwards, allowing him to get onto his feet and dashed forwards underneath a punch I'd just thrown.

The boy went straight for the chin, his uppercut reaching upwards with the sound of wind cutting under the speed of the blow. But I was faster.

I blocked the powerful blow and grabbed it with the other arm, clasping it in my iron grip. The boy struggled and pulled against it, but I didn't budge at all, my strength far overpowering his own.

Then my elbow slammed into the side of that arm and, with a sickening pop that reverberated throughout his arm and into mine, his forearm dislocated. I let the boy pull away, grasping his arm tightly, his knuckles white with the force of his grip.

He growled against the pain. This was one of the worst injuries that he'd suffered while training me, and he looked at me and only saw a predator's grin. He had spent so long cutting me to pieces, sending swords through my stomach, bones, even through my eye and into my brain. Now it was time for the boy to get a taste of his own medicine.

I was no longer the same man as I had been, tentative and squeamish around violence. In six months of training, it had become a second nature to me, pain as much a part of my day as any other sensation. It no longer debilitated me like it once had, paralysing me with the searing sensation.

Rethi popped his own arm back in, me giving him time to do so. After only another second or two the pain seemed to have faded from the boy's expression and the grin regrew.

"Let's kick it up a notch then, shall we?" I goaded, cracking my neck loudly. The boy's grin turned vicious once more.

He raced towards me once more, running headlong into me. I wasn't an idiot, however, and when he darted off to my side trying to get me at my flank, I turned my back to him as a kick flashed out and slammed him right in the chest, ribs breaking underneath my powerful kick, sending him hurtling away from me.

"Come on now, Rethi." I said as I walked towards the fallen boy, "How many times have you pulled that exact move in training. Remember, I can hit you back now." I said, a mixture of mockery and instruction.

It was true, the boy was a natural born fighter, exceptional instincts and an eye for combat. Back on Earth he would have been an excellent sports player, or the same with e-sports, but with sport, there is no death at the end of the day. For months he had been fighting against someone who's only goal was to dodge, with the occasional bout where I pulled all my punches.

But now the boy was tougher than a bull, and if I give him a solid kick, his insides won't be obliterated along with his bones. The boy struggled to his feet, the wind having left his lungs something fierce.

"I-I know. Didn't have to hit me so hard." He protested, but his heart wasn't in it, a grin still on his face even as the bones underneath the muscle and skin slowly realigned themselves. Though it was far slower than I had thought it would be for the moment. Might need some training first, like my own body had needed time to actualise its limits.

"Let's wait for a while until your bones are fully healed. Tell me when." Rethi nodded amiably, and Keeper Armament didn't seem to care, silently observing from the sidelines. We continued to size each other up as Rethi's bones healed squirmed and reset under his skin. The boy grunted in pain on occasion, face fighting against showing too much pain, trying to keep his mind active and assessing.

In the end it took almost fifteen minutes for his bones to fully reset, which wasn't good. It sounds great, and it would easily stop the boy from dying to anything stupid and save him from Gods know how many things on his journey with me, but let's just say that I'm thankful that Alena will be coming along with us.

Theoretically, Alena will be able to totally fix up bones, muscle and skin in only a few seconds, though for the moment it takes a few minutes of pain. Intense pain, but worth it for a whole new arm in only a few minutes.

Alena had told me that there are other shifting techniques that able to heal, almost every element has their own botched version of it, nature shifting being the most potent outside of life shifting, though it amounts to sparkling someone with fairy dust and hoping it heals them. Most tend to rely on healing potions, which are prohibitively expensive, taste disgusting, and only really work on physical damage, accelerating the body's natural healing. It's been observed that healing potions accelerate some cancer's growth.

Just another reason that life shifting was criminally misunderstood. All you needed was some incredibly rare and advanced understanding of human anatomy, simple!

"I'm all good now." The boy said excitedly. I sneered at him, playing the villain.

"Well, with recovery times that long, you better hope your girlfriend gets good at healing you." I snarked, making him growl angrily, but with a grin regardless.

"Angry, are we?" I goaded, "Come on then, little Sun." Rethi's grin widened at my taunting and then, with nothing but his grin as forewarning, the boy shone a brilliant gold, light radiating and streaming off of him like golden water.

Power radiated from him as he rushed forwards at a speed even I found difficult to keep up with. This time he came straight at me, a look into his mind telling me that he wasn't able to control the power very well, only the beginning of his conception of it.

I shot my knee forward, hoping to catch him in his chest, he jumped, lifting his own knee to intercept, the blow causing a resounding crack as my kneecap exploded under the force and our knees slammed together, though Rethi seemed fine, the power reinforcing his body to be far more durable.

He forced me to lower my regenerating knee to bolster my stance against a flurry of blows to my face, chest and arms. His elbows, knuckles and pals assaulting me at a ferocious speed. Though, ultimately, they lacked what it'd take to truly take me out.

In a split second of calm between blows, I let my elbow shoot out on instinct, catching the younger boy right in the chin, smashing into him with his mouth open and slamming his jaw closed and knocking him out in and instant.

The boy was knocked out, crumpling to the floor, a piece of his tongue falling out of his gaping mouth. I quickly turned the boy on his side, making sure that he wouldn't choke in his own blood as his tongue healed itself.

"Good thinking." Keeper Armament commented, "Too many rookie duellists and pugilists are ignorant to how to recover an opponent." I chuckled at that. It only made sense, especially if you were somewhere backwater like the string of towns along these roads. I lifted the boy's legs above his centre mass to help him recover a bit faster, relaxing for a little while.

From this short fight alone, it was clear that Rethi was far more formidable. Mayer had commented many times over that he was an exceptionally good duellist, most likely from fighting against me for hundreds of hours. We had easily spent likely more than a thousand hours combined, fighting and training together in total. Not a massive number, by any means. But to progress so quickly he had pulled out every stop, pushing his body and minds to its limits to become the best warrior he could and fulfill the dream that he stored somewhere deep in his heart.

"Midday Orsen, huh?" I question the Keeper that stood only a few metres from me, carefully keeping watch of the boy as the bleeding form his tongue slowly stemmed itself and began to heal itself back.

"It is a title afforded to those that have been granted the full power of a Sun-blade, the ranks of the Divine Weapons created by the Sun Gods. Hindle being the most powerful and first of its brethren." I nodded thoughtfully.

"He's going to be a big deal, isn't he?" I asked, almost rhetorically, but the Keeper answered regardless.

"It would be more surprising if he did not."

 

[Sarius]

Chapter 54: A Plan

Rethi awoke from his forced slumber only a few minutes later, and we sparred for the rest of the night, brutally destroying each other's bodies. The boy still needed to get used to copious amounts of pain, and I was going easy on him. He knew that I was, of course, he had been dealing out pain on me for months, so he was as much a maestro of it as I was.

Tearing ligaments, breaking minor bones, damaging sensitive organs, obstructing breathing with force. It was interesting to be the teacher now, rather than the pupil, but as the hours passed, it seemed like the boy still needed to sleep. At least for now.

I trained long after Rethi went back to the house for rest, returning myself to the katas that I had formulated oh so many months ago—to get myself used to the weight of my hammer. Now, though, the weight was enormous and impractical.

It didn't help that the hammer scaled with my strength, so I wasn't sure, apart from formulating some shifting trickery, that I'd ever be able to wield the thing without looking like a drunk man swinging around a stick he picked up.

Hours passed as I trained, a usual occurrence. My brain had long since recalibrated to my twenty-four-hour schedule, almost allowing me to fast forward through my own actions as I repeated and tweaked my training on autopilot.

Before long the sun had emerged from behind the orb moving through the sky, the rays of light always a captivatingly beautiful sight over the glassy plains, with the condensation of morning dew resting gently on the blades of grass—stretching over dips and rises that formulated the landscape.

I let myself train comfortably for a few hours longer than I usually did, enjoying the silence and clear headedness that came with the warming morning air.

Interestingly, I caught sight of a singular person all the way out here, an unusual sight. Not many went out past this way, especially because of the threat from the forest wolves that way. Only travellers and merchants really came out this far. I squinted my eyes to try and get a better look at the person, dressed in farmer's clothes. For what reason they were out here I couldn't possibly understand, but I just gave the farmer a polite wave.

The farmer gave a hesitant wave back, and walked their way back towards the town centre. I wasn't really worried about hiding my hammer around the townsfolk, there really wasn't any reason. The education level around here was abysmally low, and even if they potentially recognised the hammer for what it was as a part of a legend, my word would overpower theirs by simply spinning some bullshit.

I sighed as I decided to walk my way towards Mayer's home myself. Last I'd seen of the ex-weilder of Hindle, he'd been bleeding from a stab wound and seemed like he had everything under control, at least form his emotions anyway.

I plodded my way along the dirt path, making it to the homey wooden structure and stepping inside. An immediate check of my surroundings with my empathy told me that Mayer was in bed in his room, probably the only time I'd ever seen him in bed outside him actually sleeping.

I walked to the kitchen first, making the man some tea and a small breakfast using the ether powered cooking implements. Though Mayer rarely bothered to even use them, just using his own flame for whatever reason.

I bustled my way into the old man's room, holding a few plates stacked with a not-at-all healthy breakfast of pancakes slathered in a syrup that wasn't anything that I had ever tasted before coming here, but it was powerful and overwhelmingly sweet, so it served its purpose.

"How's it going, cripple?" I asked jokingly as I walked into Mayer's room. Clean, orderly, and barebones would be a good description of his room, though there were a few personal items strewn about the place.

"Bah," the man scoffed with a painful grimace, "I can still give you a hiding, kid, don't you worry about me." I laughed as I handed him the tea and place the food on his side table, for him to attack later when he felt up to it.

"You wish, old man." I said, truthfully in a sense of the word. Mayer could probably still kick my ass three days from Sunday with shifting, but not physically anymore. Maybe not anymore at all, a somewhat sad thought.

I gave the older man a once over. Mayer still retaining his mostly youthful appearance that had gained from whipping out Hindle a few days ago, looking more like a thirty-five to forty-year-old man than someone in their early two-hundreds, but that certainly didn't change the fact that the man felt far frailer than before.

Beforehand he was a physical powerhouse, even without wielding Hindle. Now he had been stripped of that power, left to be just an abnormally fit and healthy man. Some of the attacks that I had trained with the man in the past would eviscerate the man now. Though I suspected that he was just as strong with his shifting as he was before.

I looked down to a large piece of cloth that was securely bandaged to the side of his stomach, where he was bleeding from after the ceremony. Mayer saw my looking, and with a crooked grin, ripped away the cloth and showed me the wound. Or, in this case, a lack thereof.

"Do I wanna ask?" I said, perturbed. After a moment, the place where the not-wound was began to trickle with blood, welling up through the skin with seemingly no regard for the barrier of flesh and skin. Mayer pulled the bloody cloth back into place, grimacing as he did.

"Magical revenge wound. All the pain and annoyance with none of the death. Gut wounds are a bitch." He said between gritted teeth. I nodded, amused.

"So Hindle is a vengeful blessed blade, huh?" I asked, and the man nodded, a wry grin on his face.

"Hindle has its own mind. Not a complicated one, mind you, but one either way. I'm not sure if it'll ever get to the point of human intelligence, but it did seem to get smarter over my time wielding it." Well, that could either be a good or bad thing, depending how it panned out. Typically giving items sapience, let along sentience it regarded as a bad move, but what can you do.

"That'll have to be Rethi's problem, hey? Mr. Midday will have to deal with sapient Divine Swords and Demigods while you get to sit back and drink tea till the end of time." I chuckled and Mayer nodded.

"Not quite till the end of time. This old man will have an expiration date soon enough." I raised an eyebrow, worried, but he just laughed painfully, "Don't you fret, kiddo. It'll be decades till that point. Hindle was nice enough to let me keep this youthful body, even if it did stab me in the gut."

We let he room slowly sink into a companionable silence between the two of us, something that over the months had become a staple of our time together. Rethi sometimes called me an old man wearing a twenty-year-old's skin for it, but over time I'd taken to Mayer's way of thinking. There was always time for talk later, but silence could achieve just as much as inane claptrap.

Looking into the man's emotions, I found a puddle of a few different intermingling emotions. There was sadness there, maybe even a slight tinge of regret. But there was also an overwhelming sense of relief and… happiness. He was comfortable, even when he was in immense pain. Content. I sighed deeply.

"You aren't going to come with us." I stated. Of course, I had known this from the start, really. He had come to this small little, nameless town to get away from everything. Mayer nodded, confirming even when he didn't need to.

"I thought I'd always be needed. A warrior for the people. A people that I loved and cared about more than even myself. A people that I sacrificed everything for, lost friends and men and women that I had known for decades for. Soon enough, when I sat atop the tower, praised to the high heavens, having become the champion for the people I loved, it all changed." Mayer looked out the window thoughtfully, staring at the wind that was gently glowing through the leaves of a tree. He took a sip from his tea, letting it sit in his mouth and letting his muscled relax against the pain in his stomach.

"The war was over, my usefulness depleted. The unity that we had found, allying against the horrors of the Champions shattered once more, even if everyone pretended to be under one banner. I was sent on skirmish after skirmish, land wars that meant nothing except for the poor bastards that ended up on the wrong side of a blade they couldn't have possibly deserved." Mayer's eyes closed as he saw far too many men, their faces garbled and smudged in his memory, but small features still returned to him. The chill that they caused him to experience transferred across my empathic link well enough for me to know just how deeply he regretted those days.

"Before long, I found myself in a world that I didn't recognize anymore. People I was detached from, no friends except those young enough to be great, great grandchildren, none of them remembering the war that reformed the world itself. All pushed aside in the name of moving forward." He turned to me, a dry amusement on his face.

"So, like a disenfranchised teenager, I ran away as far as I could and found myself here with far, far too much time to think for my own good." We shared a mutual chuckle at that. He didn't need to recount the rest.

He had come to the decision to leave Hindle to someone else, or not at all if necessary. He didn't have it in him anymore to fight wars that were so far removed from himself. He was a man stuck in a strange grey area where the world he lived in wasn't really his own anymore.

I'm sure I could argue all day with the man, to try to convince him that he could regain his connection to the world once more, but that'd be naïve and, frankly, insensitive. The only other frame for reverence that I had for those that had lived a long time was Keeper Armament, and he hardly seemed like he was connected to the world.

We let the silence reign for a while, but eventually I left. There wasn't much else to talk about really. The man had made his decision and deserved to have at least some peace and quiet while he was recovering from a phantom stab to the gut.

I wasn't sure what else I'd do that day, aside from training, until I walked out Mayer's front door and almost walked straight into Rethi. Managing to stop myself from pushing the boy over by grasping onto his shoulders, I took a step back from the boy.

"Morning Rethi." I said with a smile, "Come to see the old man himself?"

"Ah, not quite. I already talked to him last night before I went to bed." He said, scratching the back of his head, "I was actually here to talk to you…"

I quirked an eyebrow as the boy trailed off. Quickly, I delved into Rethi's emotional state and found myself very worried, very fast. Without making any fanfare of it, I nodded and started walking in towards the centre of town, where Rethi had come from.

"Let's talk as we walk, shall we?" Rethi nodded taciturnly, though the sad expression on his face was anything but the stoic façade that he'd been trying to emulate from Mayer for months now.

"We are leaving soon, aren't we?" he asked softly, and I nodded affirmatively. He sighed heavily.

"What am I going to do about my mum? I can't just leave her here." There was a note of iron will in his voice. He wouldn't budge on this, I had to find a way to fix this before we left or Rethi either wouldn't leave, or would be very, very angry with me.

Admittedly, I'd been rather hands off when it came to his mother. Rethi had told me bits and pieces of what was happening with her, and all of it was bad news. She was dying, and fast. Six months ago she could barely walk, now she was far worse, losing memory and sleeping most days all the way through. Her caretaker, Arren Smithe, knew the signs from her husband's progression. She was going to die in a few months, at most.

I let my brain speed into a frenzy, trying to come up with something. Rethi looked at me, a sort of questioning hope as I let my brow furrow into a look of consternation.

"Ah." I said as a possible idea came to mind. Rethi's eyes widened as he saw the grin widen on my face. "I have a plan."

 

[Sarius]

Chapter 55: Chances

Being alone with Rethi was surprisingly unusual.

Most of the time we were accompanied by Mayer, being taught or fighting half to death. But now? We were simply walking someplace, a goal in mind, yes, but a more casual encounter than the intense training and focus we displayed just yesterday.

In fact, I realised I hadn't had a heart to heart with the boy for a good long time, and aside for the trip to the forests our time together, alone, has been filled with a mostly companionable silence with no real conversation of substance.

Now, I was starting to realise that I had been neglecting a prominent emotion in the boy's life. Worry. Worry for his mother, for her future without him, and for a world where he can't afford to help her against the mothers, fathers, daughters and sons of thousands more than just his own.

I sighed as we drew closer to Michael Gram's home. This was going to be an interesting conversation and I was realising that the boy wasn't truly prepared for it, not yet. There was only so much that could be achieved by dragging someone else along on your adventures, like I had unceremoniously done to Rethi, and though he has managed to find his place into being the successor of a divine blade, he was not guaranteed that, by any stretch of the imagination.

"Rethi, let's talk for a moment before we go in." I said quietly, turning into a side path and down behind the row of shops that lined the main through road in the town. Out the back was a severe lack of homes and more than enough space to sit in a patch of grass.

I sat in the grass out the back of Michael Gram's house and shop, and patter the grass next to me, prompting the boy to sit.

As Rethi sat down next to me, I could feel a slight warmth radiating from the boy. His skin had begun to look sun-kissed, instead of it's usual only slightly tanned colour, his dark hair almost inheriting a shine, and I was sure that the hair would be warm, like black hair under the sun. The boy seemed to either not take notice of the changes in his body, or he didn't care.

"How is your mother, Rethi." I asked, keeping my voice low rather than it's usual boisterous loudness. I could feel the boy's mood darken further.

"Not well. Even so, she won't let me see her. I…" He swallowed against a particularly unpleasant memory, "I tried to force my way in once, but it didn't go well." I nodded gently.

"Rethi, we are going to leave, likely in a matter of a week or two. WE have stayed in this small town for far too long, maybe it was my own fear of facing what was out there that stopped me from leaving earlier, but now we have to wrap everything we have up here, and leave for a world outside." The boy's emotions turned into a troubled mess as I spoke, though he didn't vocalize any of those emotions. "Speak, Rethi." I commanded lightly. I needed him to speak to me, at least a little.

"I… I've spent my whole life here, but even so, I have only one thing I need to wrap up." He said, his conviction growing slightly. "My mother is sick and dying, and she won't even let me see her, and there is nothing I can do."

"Of course you can't." I said, plainly. Rethi looked back at me with sad eyes, a disappointment rushing through him, even though he'd said the words.

"That, Rethi, is why we have friends." He barked out a dry laugh.

"Rethi, your girlfriend is a practically preordained to be a master healer like the world has never seen before. I will make sure with all my power that it happens." I said a small smile growing on my face, despite the plummeting morale of the boy in front of me.

"But that doesn't help me now." He growled, almost yelling. I sighed deeply.

"You're right, it doesn't help you right this second. But it will soon. Very soon in fact." He turned to me, a barely concealed anger hidden behind a questioning eyebrow. "I do have a plan, one that I think could really, actually work. One that could possibly save your mother, at least for now."

"What is it? You know that Alena can't heal my mother, right?" Rethi's anger melted away, leaving behind a mix of excitement and worry. An overwhelming sense of worry.

"She can't at the moment." I prefaced, and then sighed when the boy drew a blank, "Rethi, you have to understand that we are going to have to convince two people that will object to this extremely hard." Rethi furrowed his brow.

"What are you going to do, exactly?" He asked again, drawing out the words cautiously. However, before I could respond I heard the sound of a wooden door clacking against it's frame from behind me, causing Rethi to turn away from me.

"Well, what perfect timing Alena, I guess we will be all learning together." I said jovially, almost dreading the next few minutes.

"Okay… what's going on, exactly?" Alena said, concerned.

"Max has a way to help my mother!" Rethi blurted, and I cringed heavily, my eyes scrunching together. Sometimes I forget that Rethi is still really young, only just a teenager and excitable.

"Max. What exactly does this plan involve?" She asked dangerously. Who could have guessed that a young girl could be so terrifying. I turned around to her, an apologetic smile already on her face.

"No. Absolutely not." Her voice was hard and brittle.

"Wait, what?" Rethi said now baffled.

"You cannot make me do that!" She yelled at me, but I looked her dead in the eyes.

"So you will just leave her to die?" I intoned darkly. She froze, and Rethi's eyes bounced between the two of us, not sure whose side he should be on.

"You think I should just take the chance? Roll the dice with her life? You sicken me!" Her voice was dangerously close to screaming, and she turned heel and walked away.

"Woah, woah. What just happened." Rethi said, shock flooding through him, his mind desperately backpedalling, trying to keep up. I laughed humourlessly.

"I just asked your girlfriend to do something that I knew that she'd be against." I grimaced at Rethi's look.

"Your whole plan was to ask her to just... heal my mother?" I rolled my eyes at his disbelieving look.

"Of course not. But it won't matter how much I try, she will see it that way. I need you to help me convince her of my plan." He scrunched his eyes up in frustration.

"What is the plan!" He yelled, frustrated at being left out of my plan. I decided to take pity on the poor boy, and with a grin I began to explain my plan.

"I'm going to intentionally infect myself with Rhy disease."




Now, I'm sure you could hazard a guess as to how Rethi took that last statement. A mixture of surprise, disbelief, calling me a fool, and once I had explained my reasoning, grudging compliance.

The boy had stumbled into the house to convince his girlfriend two hours ago, confused and not entirely sure how to feel about my proposition. But more than anything I saw that he was determined. He knew that this was probably the only chance that she had, outside of a fairly powerful nature shifter randomly coming to town.

Not that I'd be against that happening, but I think we've had enough surprise visitors to last a lifetime. A two literal Gods and a many thousand-year-old Keeper. An interesting track record so far.

Behind me the flimsy wooden door flew open, slamming against the outside wall of the house, and making a mighty cracking sound as it rebounded back into its frame. I turned my face to see an incredibly angry Alena stomp across the grass, right up into my face, and winding back her open palm and slapping me right across the face.

There was obviously no effect, but it still surprised me. She was fuming, face red and what had to be the remnants of tears staining her cheeks.

"You think you can guilt me into healing her? You know the risks, I could turn her into a walking, breathing tumour by mistake!" she growled, barely holding back a wave of tears.

I furrowed my brow. I had expected her to be angry at me, but not also so incredibly hurt. It was a different hurt, old and healed over, but cut anew. I sighed.

"I intend to get you to the point where the risk is acceptable."

"Acceptable? You're saying you think that any level of risk of me turning Rethi's mother into a brainless monstrosity?" I looked at her, seeing past the rage and hurt, past the roiling emotions and seeing the bottom of the lake, the emotion that the water settled on. Fear.

"Alena." I said, a calm overtaking me, "what is her chance of survival?" There was silence for a while, before she opened her mouth, but I could see the acid dripping from her mind before she spoke.

"No, Alena. I do not want a snide remark. I want you to tell me; what are her chances?" There was no response this time, not a movement, though her emotions continued swirling.

"You're right," I said to the unspoken answer, "nothing. No chance at all. She will die, and there will be nothing that anyone can do about. Anyone, except you and I." I felt her emotions swell, anger sapping away and simply becoming fear.

"I can't. I can't do it." I shook my head.

"You can. And we are going to test it over and over until the chances of you failing are so low that you would have to be stupid to not try. Because if you are going to follow me and Rethi around the worlds, this is the price you'll have to pay, do you understand?" Stony faced, I looked at her, analysing her facial features.

She tried to school them into something that wasn't just pure fear, with a healthy dose of hate, what I'd expect when someone was forcing you into doing something you had been terrified of doing for her entire life up until not a few days ago.

"What if I can't? What if it's still too dangerous to heal Rethi's mother?" I let the question hang in the air for a long time, longer than it needed for me to consider it. I could answer it in any hundred different ways, but all of them simply sounded more manipulative than the last, and I was already manipulating the poor girl enough for my tastes. In fact, I was being the asshole here, blatantly manipulating her into a terrible situation. But I had no choice, the only other 'choice' being to let Rethi's mother simply die.

So, instead of a long and impassioned speech about how it wouldn't be her fault, or manipulating her with the death of Rethi's mother, I simply gave her a little, sad smile.

"Can you please get your father for me? I'd like to discuss some things with him, with you present." We stared at each other for a long moment, before she clenched her jaw and walked back inside to grab her father.

They re-emerged only a few moments later. Michael looked unhappy with me, decidedly angry in a way, but much calmer than his daughter.

"Maximilian." He said, his voice dark with emotion. I nodded back to him.

"I'm going to cut to the chase. I want you to infect me with Rhy disease as a test dummy for your daughter to learn how to combat, if not immunize against it." Michael's expression became even darker, though I could see a small light of excitement inside his mind, though it was overshadowed by the darkness of fear and protectiveness of his daughter.

"Why do you want to torture my daughter with this? You are trying to cure Rethi's mother, yes? What use is that, to put a young girl in the position to be the only hope, the only saviour? What if something went wrong? What if she dies because of a freak accident?" I could feel the father and daughter unite against me, but I shook my head sadly.

"Michael. When have you ever had that choice?" I sighed as he narrowed his eyes, "A man appears on your doorstep, bleeding from a knife wound. You know that he has to be treated in the next hour or he will bleed out and die. However, you also know that there is a likelihood that you doing what you have to do, without the correct tools, will kill the man just the same. What do you choose?"

"This isn't even remotely the same as that! I have training, experience, a lifetime of understanding and perspective. I have been working around the sick, dying and dead for decades! She is a child, barely considered a teenager and you want her to make a decision of this gravitas?" He yelled, truly enraged. When I had approached him not days earlier he had been angry, but this was a different level. I understood, I really did, but…

"How long will it be before she holds the hand of the dying, of someone she desperately wants to save, and she cannot? How long before she tries her best, and in the worst possible moment she accidentally creates an abomination? How long until the palace of glass that surrounds her inevitably shatters and there are no other chances?"

"If not now, when?"


A/N: Hey there guys, Sarius here.

So, this is a relatively big milestone! I've posted twenty new chapters, over three different stories no less. It's a pretty wild feat, in my opinion. It's something I've been working towards for months now, and I'm glad that I've finally delivered.

But that brings me to a little announcement. I'll be opening a Patreon where you could potentially gain advanced access to 30 chapters of each of my stories. At the highest tier, that's a total of 90 chapters covering all of my serialising stories. If the service were available right now, you'd be able to read Chapter 85 of Unwieldy and Chapter 50 of Fixture of Fate and Ribbon!

It's a pretty big deal, and it's not ready yet, but it will be soon. If you want to get in on this, I urge you towards my little discord server!

Hope you all have a great day, either way!

 

[Sarius]

Chapter 56: Cold and Heavy

Once again I was in the field just outside of town, dancing feverishly with my hammer, forcing my body to push just that little bit harder than it had the time before.

Once, this had been a piece of serenity, a place for me to improve and understand more of myself, the earth blurring underneath my feet as I sought the words to propel myself further towards competency.

Now, though, it was anything but serene. Long had it been since the days that I'd be able to train without that gnawing feeling in my gut, the weight on my shoulders ever present. Once upon a time, I had read the stories of characters that would face up against impossible odds with a smile and a brave heart. They had inspired me in a visceral way, that never truly lasted long, but I could attribute those moments of inspiration to being catalysts for change in my former life.

However, thinking back upon those stories gave me a cold feeling inside. A detachment from what I had once idealised and, perhaps, even found relatable. Now, my mind wondered towards those characters. The ones who you'd swear ruined the book for you, if they weren't filled with so much truth.

There was a fine line, however, between a character who was dour because of their burden, and one who was actively whiney and insufferable underneath its weight. I felt myself, ever so slowly, becoming the first of the two. At least, in my own mind.

I could feel the magnitude of my life catch up with my psyche. A Demigod, a Champion, a saviour. That was who I modelled myself to be. Pretentiousness ignored, it was something of an impossible task, something that you may only believe heroes of legend capable of facing against. Heracles, Gilgamesh, and their ilk.

But me? As I turned into another step, straining my muscles to pull my hammer along with me, barely capable of moving it from the dirt, something inside of me recoiled.

It was the height of arrogance. I was a Demigod, but I was uncomfortable being told I was. I was a Champion, but the title left me with a distinct feeling of separation from its meaning. I was Rethi's 'Master' and yet, just beneath the surface, I wished that he would one day find that I was nothing special. Nothing worthy of note.

Maybe I had claim to being slightly more charismatic than the average person, capable of somehow succeeding in difficult social situations. But maybe I could attribute that to my pseudo Soul-Seeker status. Empathy was so ingrained in my being now that I could feel the emotions around me as if they were my own.

I knew how others felt about me. I could now feel the adoration of Rethi, the conflicted hope of Mayer, the scathing frustration of Alena. I could feel the fear, wonderment and intrigue of those that I passed in the streets of this small town.

But it created a conflict inside me. I wasn't how people viewed me. I had seen this argument happen with those that were famous back on Earth. They had achieved their fame, and their image impressed itself upon millions, and yet they weren't quite the way they seemed in interviews and on television.

I wasn't a celebrity, by any stretch of the imagination, but I could feel how others responded to me. I had begun to understand the isolation the famous must have felt, the adoration of a person that you aren't sure exists.

It was just another weight on my shoulders. I had so many weights now. So many expectations to be held to that I could feel them slowly burdening me further.

As I completed my last round of a new abridged kata, focussed on training to use my even heavier hammer, I pulled the Soul Weapon back into me and started walking back towards town.

That was the one thing that was keeping me from crumbling underneath the weight of it all. A direction, a purpose. What was a greater purpose than to save an untold number of lives? But I could still feel it weighing on me, and I could only predict that it'd grow.

However, as I did most days, I shook off the cloud that hung over my mind, forcing just far enough away from my thoughts that I could operate. Today I had a very important task, something that had been months in the making.

I was going to confront Rethi's mother, Shae Orsen.

I hummed a structureless melody as I travelled expediently down the worn and decrepit paths towards the ruined section of town. It was all I could do to stop myself from overthinking the conversation that was bound to happen.

It only took me a few minutes to get to the Orsen Household. Surprisingly, it was in a far better condition than what it had been earlier in the year. Some of the entrance had been replaced with a mismatching wood and had clearly been cleaned semi-recently.

I walked to the door and gave it a gentle knock. The wait was rather short, as soon after a confused looking woman swung the door open. She was surprisingly tall, easily able to look me in the face with little need to look upwards.

"Ah, Mrs Smithe. It's a pleasure to meet you again. Good to see you in such good health." I smiled, genuinely, holding out my hand to be shaken. Past our original meeting where Rethi and I had convinced her to be Shae's caretaker, I had never seen the woman again.

She looked… healthier. The first thing that I really noticed was a lack of the borderline miasmic smell that had surrounded her when we had first met. She smelt softly of flowers now, and her clothing was significantly improved. Knowing the amount of money that Rethi was paying her, it was no surprise that she was able to afford nice things. Her formerly sallow cheeks and scrawny figure was now filled with ample muscle and fat, forming her into a strikingly pretty woman, especially with her sharp blue eyes peeking out from beneath maintained, silky brown hair.

"Master… Avenforth?" She questioned as she grabbed my hand and shook it gently. I nodded, mostly to affirm that she remembered my name right.

"I have come to talk to Mrs Orsen." The woman's face drew into a pained grimace as she pulled away from the door to look back inside, shutting the door ever so slightly to obscure my view of the inside room. I waited patiently for the hushed, but clearly heated conversation to conclude, and the door opened to reveal an apologetic expression.

"I'm sorry, Master Avenforth. Shae cannot see you; she is quite unwell." She explained, but I could feel that it was a lie. Well, not a lie in that Shae was feeling unwell, but that she could not see me at all. I gave my own apologetic expression to the woman.

"I understand, Mrs Smithe, but you must understand that I cannot take no for an answer." There was a real sorrow in those words for me. I didn't like giving people ultimatums, and I seemed to be doing more and more of it recently. The woman swallowed gently and nodded.

I don't know if it was a perceived promise of violence or maybe the loss of income that prompted her to open the door for me and usher me inside the quaint little house, but at least she didn't feel any true fear from me.

"What are you doing?" Shae hissed venomously at her caretaker. Shae Orsen was sitting in a well-made lounging chair, one that was old and used but still seemed comfortable nonetheless. I could only imagine that it had come from Arren Smithe's home, especially since Shae herself was obstinate to not take money from Rethi, other than in the form of care. Maybe it was enough of a difference in her life to take the blow to her honour.

Shae had not followed the same trend as her caretaker, becoming all but skin and bones now. She had a constant glisten of sweat on her skin, the pallid colour of it almost making me feel ill by proxy. Her dark hair hung limply and without vitality. At least she seemed well taken care of under Mrs Smithe's supervision.

"There is no need to implicate your carer, Mrs Orsen. I have come here and would not have left without speaking with you no matter how vehemently she had told me to leave." Something I had suspected far more of. Shae herself seemed willing to make up for that fact.

"You expect me to let me you walk into my home and have your way? Like you did with my beggar son?" She spat.

I let any humour or warmness drop from my face, leaving behind a cold, sad mask. I sighed deeply as I sat down in another chair, similar to the one Shae herself sat in. Then I raised my eyes to hers and stared.

I could feel the social temperature in the room drop to freezing, my eyes locking onto Shae's with an iron-clad gaze. I could see straight into her. Her emotions were a wild storm of hurt, self-loathing, hate and pride. I could feel the would on her that Rethi had created by becoming a 'beggar', the armour of her pride in never having asked for anything, yet still surviving despite her hardship, stripped away to reveal the tender flesh beneath.

Each and every day the woman stabbed deeper into that hate in a duality of loathing and hate. Hate at the boy that would violate her pride so deeply, despite knowing that she would rather starve to death than have it stripped from her. And the loathing of the very same woman that inexplicably pushed her son far enough into depravity that he'd have to sell his pride for any money that he could, to steal morsels to eat at all.

I knew, as I looked at the woman, that she was hardly evil. Unreasonable, aggravating, malicious, sure. Evil, no. In fact, in that mess of emotions I could follow every one of them back down to the very root of it all. Failure.

"Mrs Orsen," I said, my voice so cold that it even surprised me, "I came here today for a very simple reason. I believe that I can cure you of your Rhy disease." There was a momentary shock, before a viscous snarl made its way onto her face.

"Hah," she sneered, "I'd bet. I'd also bet that you intended to enslave me just like you did my son. Corrupt our pride with the money you so willingly hand out, violate us for all we are worth."

This was it. The ugliness of pride. I had seen it fester inside of Alena, even still. Rethi had long since discarded his pride, willing to take any opportunity. But now I was beginning to realise just how fine a line I had walked on that first encounter, where I had left them with more money that hey considered warranted. I had used my foreign origins as leverage, then. But now I hardly cared to entertain the woman with anything as elaborate.

It was in that moment that I felt the cold and dark fall over my mind once again, the horrible weight of expectation and anxiety. My face pulled into a deep frown, one set in stone. Shae and Arren watched on as I morphed from my generally amiable self, to a cold mask, all the way to a deep displeasure.

That was when the power inside of me resonated, a deep thrum undulating forth from my body like a wave. It was nothing impressive, no massive amount of force, but it was important. It was divine. Unmistakable and unequivocal.

The two women had never felt divinity before, but as soon as it touched them, they knew. They were sure beyond words.

"You're…" Mrs Smithe began, but stopped short of saying the words. I didn't acknowledge it, for the truth was plainly obvious. My eyes locked with those of Shae Orsen's again. My eyes found the woman's emotions in disarray, shaken to their very core. She believed that she understood me and my 'game', my corrupting essence. But now she sat in front of a true figure of Divinity, regardless of my half-Godhood.

"I am disappointed, Shae Orsen." The words left my chest just as softly as they normally did, but they were infused with something more. A power similar to the oath that I had made only days ago with Alena's father.

"I did not expect much from your reaction. Maybe at best, a begrudging interest or—more hopefully a cooperative spirit. But you have a mind poisoned by a pride that has now foothold." I paused to continue to search the woman, so filled with a strange mixture of awe and fear that it almost made me grimace. "So," I continued, "I want you to think very carefully of what you say next."

The silence in the room, the biting cold of fear, was almost painful. The Hearth inside quivered in displeasure, but it knew that sometimes a conversation must take place inside a dark, cold room with no warmth in sight.

"I–" She began, but her voice failed her, body quivering under the shock of the conversation. "Why?"

The question was simple, but it was exactly what I was looking for. It was a question with no pretence, no venom or hate to accompany. It was merely an open question. However, the cold that I had found myself enveloped in, didn't lift so easily.

"Because of your son." I said quietly, but the words made it to their ears nonetheless, "He is something more now. A warrior Divine. He will one day be among the strongest to ever have lived." The words kindled something deep inside of Shae's heart, but I pressed on.

"And yet, before the inevitable day come that he will leave this small nowhere-place to become something far more, he worries for his sick mother." My mask of displeasure eased into one of mere stone. Not so much dispassion, but judgement. I was the arbiter now, and she knew. She knew that if she had simply entertained me—been anything other than the venomous, prideful apparition of a woman—that I would have helped her with nothing short of a herculean effort.

Now, I was putting the onus on her. I was asking her to prove herself to me. There was never any need for this with Rethi, nor will there likely be much for Alena. But Shae—Rethi's mother or not—had lost a suitable amount of rapport with me. Her disdain for her child, regardless of how projected it was from her own self-loathing, fuelled my own domain with enough distaste that it'd willingly accepted becoming cold, rather than warm, embracing its own antithesis.

"Why?" She said again, her eyes breaking from mine, filled with tears. She knew that she was broken, deep inside. But only now did she come to understand just how destroyed she was. The sickness had taken a toll on her that had shattered her very being, her image as an independent person. She had, by proxy, become a beggar—the very antithesis of her own character, her own pride. And now, as she stared at the floor, droplets falling from her eyes in a display of pure emotional vulnerability, I could smile.

The warmth in the room returned, a feeling of exultation consumed me as my domain sung with it's own pride and I couldn't help but grin with it's chorus of glee. As the warmth returned, and the weight and cold was dismissed, I let the Hearth sing through me.

"Because he was always something more. Because, despite a fate that pulls him towards something more every moment of every day, he obstinately stands against the tide." I paused as the sheer emotion of it all overwhelmed me, letting a single, glowing tear leak from my eye—burning with the soft light of a campfire, battling against the cold of the world.

"Because he loves you."

And that was all it took to bring the woman's armour of pride that had long since cut into her skin, embedding itself into her flesh—clattering to the ground with a mournful, excruciating wail.

 

[Sarius]

Chapter 57: Test One

After the emotions had simmered down, the plan had been revealed.

It was simple. All I needed from Shae was a sample of her blood. Admittedly, it had been difficult to get everyone that was required to make this work on board. Convincing Michael that, yes, injecting me with the fatal disease was a good idea was what I wanted was an interesting conversation.

No-one, aside from maybe Rethi and Mayer knew the extent of my abilities, and even then it wasn't entirely clear. I hadn't necessarily gone out of my way to make Mayer or Rethi aware of precisely how good my regeneration was, mostly because they had ample time to stab me and figure out that way.

Instinctively I knew things about my body, what it could and couldn't regenerate from. It was the main reason that I had allowed Alena to play around in my brain. I logically knew that it wouldn't kill me, even if she had disintegrated my brain, though letting her actually do it was something else entirely. It was the one of the few times that I had sweated from nervousness since, well… becoming a Demigod, I guess. Maybe even before that.

That is to say, I know that Rhy disease had about the same likelihood of killing me that Rethi had my jamming a butter knife through my heart.

I'm almost entirely certain I couldn't be killed by mortal means at all. Which was an interesting idea to sit on, certainly made me more paranoid about shifting and people with access to divinity.

Anyway, the plan is simple, all things considered. I was going to treat myself as a dummy patient, who would be injected with the disease and let it grow inside of me. Obviously it was a little more complicated than that, with me being effectively immune to disease.

However, I had made myself stop healing more than once before and I have a sneaking suspicion that it'd effect my power from 'cleaning' my body. It was made more complicated even then because, as I was so kindly informed by the elder Gram, ether naturally did a similar thing as my body already naturally did. I assumed that this also applied to divine power.

So, to be able to play the part of the dummy patient, I'd need to shut of my body's own regeneration, not shift any ether at all, and close myself off to divine power. Which is a whole lot harder than it sounds, seeing a significant portion of my being houses my divine power, and me walking or moving shifts ether due to the Sharah.

So here I was, laying completely still on a bed inside surgery room in Gram's Apothecary, letting the disease that had been injected run rampant.

It was an interesting experience for sure, my awareness of my physical state was much better than I had thought so I could actually perceive what the disease was doing inside of me. Its modus operandi at the moment seemed to be reproduction, and insanely quickly. I'm not sure if it was only because I was the perfectly immunocompromised target, but it was spreading like wildfire.

Gram had told me it was going to take at least a week for it to propagate throughout my body to where Alena could sense it. I was starting to seriously doubt that. The entire experience was mightily uncomfortable, feeling it spread through me and start to insidiously leech into organs.

I wasn't knowledgeable enough to understand what was actually being done to me, but it was targeting organs and slowing everything down. It had only been two days, but I could see how Shae was in such a bad way now. It'd slow everything down to the point where organs started to die, especially with it preferring the intestines, probably making it difficult for the body to get vital nutrients and necessary components to keep the body well enough to continue fighting the disease.

It was lucky that, underneath all of the regeneration and various sources of power, I was still basically human with physiology to match. Though I probably wasn't a good representative case of anything, I could be tested on with little to no harm.

"Alena! Michael!" I called, feeling a subdued wave of ether wash over me, ever so slightly for daring to move at all. It was surprising just how pervasive the Sharah had become in my movements. I'm not even sure how talking would be considered part of the Sharah, but it's be the breathing and the diaphragm if I had to place a guess.

Following my call there was a short silence before a rapid thumping of feet trailed down the steps from the Gram's living area, down the hall to the door of the surgery room, which promptly swung wide open.

"Master Max!" Alena said, worry laden in her voice. For some reason they were still worried about my health, even after all my convincing.

"What's wrong?" Michael said, his voice a great deal calmer, assuming the medical physician role that he was accustomed to, ready to face whatever came his way.

I kept quiet for a moment, trying to figure out a concise sentence. I didn't want to monologue and have wasted all this time, just to hear myself talk.

"Check condition." I said, settling on a commanding tone towards the doctor. He didn't even bother asking for specifics, and got to work checking temperatures, heartrates and a battery of tests I wasn't strictly familiar with but seemed to confuse the older doctor with their results.

"What is it?" Alena called, straining to see over her father's shoulder as he worked, the top of her unruly dark hair bobbing up and down.

"He has a significant fever already, his heartrate is high…" Michael mumbled more to his daughter, thought I didn't bother to listen in too hard.

"Alena." I said, breaking to two from their discussion. I knew that it was progressing fast, which just means that I want to waste less time sitting around and doing nothing. Alena looked to me questioningly, her father doing the same. I examined myself for a moment, then looked back to her, face full of stoic commandment.

"Wait… already?" She asked, clamming up in an instant as she realised what I was asking from her. Michael didn't do much better, placing a hand on her shoulder, maybe in support or just out of reflex, to show that he was there at all.

Alena continued to be the largest hurdle in all of this. She was resistant to use her shifting on even me, let alone with the future promise of using it on a person who couldn't heal from anything.

I kept my gaze on her, silent and patient. Turns out that I didn't need divine powers to make the room go quiet. It took her minutes to acknowledge what she had to do, and at least another before she dared to place a hand on my arm.

I could feel her own energy wash through me in that moment. It wasn't an energy capable of searing the disease from my body like my own powers would, it was a diagnostic power. It gave her an understanding of my condition and an image in her mind, of sorts.

I wouldn't be able to tell if it was as comprehensive as some of the scans that were available on Earth, but it seemed to give Alena what she was looking for. She took her hand off of my arm and stared at me in the face, the worry and anxiety being pushed to the very back of her mind, replaced with a facsimile of her father's own guise.

"Are you sure you want me to do this? I… I can't predict what will happen." I didn't respond. She hadn't asked for me or my comfort, but for her own. After a moment she grimaced and turned to her father.

"Test one; altering the disease itself." Her father nodded at her and pulled out his own notepad with a rudimentary pencil, poised to take notes. Then she reached out and gripped my arm.

Everything changed in that moment. I could feel the effects of what she was doing to the disease instantaneously. The symptoms that I was experiencing went from minor to extreme in mere moments, I could feel the disease reproducing so quickly that I'd swear that it was going to overtake my body.

However, I waited. I could feel the inside of my body being torn apart, the veins and organs being destroyed at the hands of the rapidly reproducing virus, the diseased cells working at a breakneck pace to destroy me.

I gave it five minutes of exponential growth before I called it. Alena couldn't stop herself once she was locked into a path. Maybe with experience she would be able to shift courses in the middle of a treatment, but all I could do was to break the cycle.

I let loose a stream of divine power from my soul, the Hearth domain within me sighing in relief, having been itching to sooth the ills of those that sat around its fire. Namely me, in this case. It couldn't very well have the holder if its flame be made uncomfortable by sickness, now could it?

The gentle flame washed through my body, eradicating the disease in its entirety, healing my damaged organs while it passed through. I could feel the jolt of surprise as Alena was forcibly booted from the depths of her focus.

"You did well, though I decided that I couldn't let the disease live, in the off chance that it somehow spread." I said softly. I knew that Rhy disease was only transferable by blood, or a few other bodily fluids, but I couldn't allow the risk of a disease that deadly.

"I–" I held up a hand to the dark-haired teen, who was still clutching my arm, and looked deep into her eyes, filled to the brim with tears. Her dark hair obscuring her face slightly.

"We talked about this. I am not expecting you to succeed the first try." I paused, trying to give the words as much significance as I could, "You cannot significantly hurt me, Alena."

"I know I can't!" She said, almost snarling the words out, "Even still, it's terrifying to do that. In a moment I created a disease that would kill someone in a matter of days, a whole town could die to that disease! How is that not terrifying?"

"Am I terrifying to you, Alena?" I asked calmly, keeping myself restrained from launching into a whole song and dance.

"Well, sort of?"

"You don't seem very sure about that." I said smiling.

"Well, you can do scary things… regenerate from anything, fighting. That's all terrifying..." She paused, looking to me to try and glean what I wanted from her answer, but found nothing. She lifted her hand from my arm and wiped frustratedly at her cheeks "But–"

"But what, Alena?" I said, breaking the girl from her response.

"I don't know!" She said, frustration worming into her voice. Her father placed a hand on her shoulder to calm her. I looked to him and, though he looked pained, he chose not to speak to her merit.

"There are no buts, Alena. You say you could kill a town with that disease?" I asked rhetorically, "I could easily do the same with my fists. I could walk around town and kill each and every individual in or near town in the span of maybe a few hours."

"But you wouldn't…" She replied, hesitantly. Maybe a little apprehension in the mix there. That stung a little.

"Of course," I agreed, "no more than you would intentionally release a deadly disease into a town for no reason." I grinned at the young girl as she positively fumed.

"An ability as dangerous as the one you possess should be treated with care, yes. But to let it rot with the fear of what damage it might cause is foolish." I didn't bother engaging with the girl further, despite her desperately trying to continue the conversation. It'd only spiral into an endless argument.

I said what I needed to say, and the next time I suspect I'd have to say it again. I motioned for Michael Gram to restart the process once again, leaving the teenage girl to storm out of the surgery room, slamming the door behind her in a flurry of dark hair and stark white clothing.

The room was quiet as Michael Gram prepared a portion of the blood sample from Shae. The injection, though the syringe used was a monster of a thing, was relatively painless all things considered.

My inaction was extremely important in the beginning, as any movement or leak of divine energy could easily burn the extremely small sample of the disease from my body, and that was when Gram decided to speak.

"I understand why you push my daughter like this." He said calmy, tucking away the notepad he had used in his pocket, "I can see the potential, just as well as any other doctor could. With even your rudimentary understanding of the possibilities, it's clear as day." He looked away from me for a moment, searching the plain walls of the room for an answer. After a long moment of contemplative silence, the man stood and walked towards the firmly shut door. His already slight frame looked worn and weary.

"I just wish that Alena didn't have to be the one to bring those possibilities to life." He whispered morosely and left the room.

 

[Sarius]

Chapter 58: Villainous Hand

It wasn't the gnawing anxiety inside of her that annoyed. In fact, the insidious pain was almost a reassurance. It soothed her, counter-intuitively, the impending doom, fear and—above all else—the self-doubt worked together to reassure her of what she already knew.

That she wasn't good enough. That, while it might be possible, it wasn't possible for her. That she was destined to fail and disappoint, to create a monster and, by doing so, become one herself.

No, what annoyed her wasn't the pain and suffering. It was the shaking of her hand.

No matter how still she tried to hold it, it still shook, her muscles weak from her sleeplessness and constantly clenching. As she sat at the edge of her bed, staring down at her hand, watching it tremble.

She grabbed her wrist with her other hand, looping her fingers all the way around her skinny wrist, and tightened her grip. She snarled with the pain, her face morphing into something between suffering and contempt. She couldn't let it shake, couldn't show just how terrified she was. She couldn't.

It wasn't long before the already pale skin begun to go splotchy, the pain increasing the more the discolouration spread and deepened in colour. Soon, the pain became unbearable, and Alena was forced to release the hand, driven by self-preservation.

For a moment, the hand was still as the warmth of blood trickled back into the starved hand. However, not a few seconds after the hand returned to a comfortable pale crème did the trembling return. A mixture of frustration and sadness rushed through her, the traitorous hand shaking despite the girl's protest.

She slumped forward, pulling the arm into herself, cradling her trembling limb into herself.

It had been weeks. The man in in her father's surgery room was unrelenting and inexhaustible. Each of her failures only began the next test. How many times had she pleaded with the man to stop? Ten times at least. Preparing for each test took one-and-a-half to two days, letting the Rhy virus natural propagate through his system, before she inevitably failed, only for the man to order her father to begin the process once again.

Initially she had been frustrated, feeling herself be manipulated into the situation of her nightmares, forced to use the very same power she'd sworn to her father that she'd hide.

How many times had she sworn to her father that this was the last time? That it wouldn't happen again, that he didn't need to worry? It was a lie, even if she was being honest. It wasn't so easy. All it took was a touch and a strong will to help for the power lurking inside to jump out, sinking its teeth into her unsuspecting subject.

A small rabbit, a domesticated dog, a horse, a young boy.

Each and every time had risen suspicion, forcing her and her father to make a retreat into the night, fleeing from any possibility of word spreading to the ears of those with power and a healthy fear of the Abomination Makers.

Every time she had cried to her father, the shame and terror instilled within her mind, each and every one of those memories as clear as the day they happened. A constant reminder of the endless repetition of her failure.

Time after time she had clamped down on that thing within her. The writhing being had thrashed against her grip for years, begging to be used, but as the years passed, the writhing thing had grown still and quiet. At moments it would lift its head from the ground, the heavy chains resisting the movement, but it would always lay its head back down, resigned to its fate.

Slowly the being inside of her grew smaller and smaller, its strength atrophying, wasting away, controllable. Just how she liked it. The weak, resentful thing inside her, unable to hurt her or her father anymore.

Never again.

What a fool she was. Thinking that she had won against it, that it was content to never be seen or heard of again.

She could remember it clearly, as she watched her boyfriend cut into the tall man she hated, the flesh of his hand tearing before her eyes, the blood trickling from the already healing wound. The sight was miraculous beyond words, something she had dreamed of as a young girl.

The being inside woke from its submission and roared. The moment of rapture was so intense, so magnificent, that she could barely perceive her voice leaving her chest, revealing her deeply hidden truth, the secret she had held so furiously.

Every moment since, the thing was screaming, snarling… gloating. It had shattered its chains, growing from its small, emaciated form, into the raging being it had been oh so many years ago. The same being that her mother had tried so hard to tame within her, before she had died.

"Mummy, what's wrong?" She had asked as a little girl. Her mother had tried to smile, her beautiful, sun-kissed features were stuck in a grimace.

"It's okay, bub," she had said as she stood over the writhing corpse of a rapidly mutating rabbit, the flesh bubbling into tumours and alternate limbs, "We will just have to go on another adventure, okay?"

"Aww, but I don't want to! I don't want to leave Gemma!" She had cried then, unaware of just how much danger she had put her and her family in.

No amount of protesting had stopped her family leaving that little town, the being inside her had reared its head, and her life would be forever changed, despite the efforts of her mother and father.

The moment the cat had leapt out of the bag that day, Alena had realised something was very different about Maximilian Avenforth.

Instead of the disgust, the horror and the fear she had expected, Maximilian had barely flinched. Hardly a thought for the sinister nature of her powers, of the terrifying context the name 'Abomination Maker' was steeped in.

And then he had cut into the flesh of his arm and told her to heal it. She had tried to resist against reaching her hand out and touching that arm. She knew what would happen when she did. Even just staring at the wound, the thing inside of her had been screaming, her mind had ached from just how powerful it had been.

From the moment that she had touched Maximilian Avenforth's flesh, she knew that she had been enthralled. The power within her howled with glee, exalting in manipulating the flesh she touched, making it balloon with excess flesh, the cells multiplying and mutating at a speed far past something her mind could process.

It was then that he had cut his own arm off, her failure falling to the ground and continued to mutate until it was little more than a ball of dead flesh.

She had failed, yet he told her to try again, over and over. Smaller things at first, then larger and larger, then the brain.

Then the virus.

She sighed, only just preventing the sob she'd been holding from leaving her lips. The virus, the tests, were why she sat at the end of her bed today, shaking with the anxiety and the fear of yet another failure. One was due for tonight.

She had confronted the being inside her so many times now, desperately trying to control it as it ran rampant towards the diseased cells. She tried—

"Alena."

The clear voice made her jump, her system shocked into a frenzy. Her heartrate flew through the roof, blood coursing through the small veins in her ears like a rushing river. She so desperately wanted to stay seated there, refuse to help the man that laid in that surgery room, even if it came at the cost of her boyfriend's affection.

But she couldn't. The thing inside her was too strong. She stood shakily, as if a marionette in the hands of an inexperienced puppeteer. She stumbled out of her room, through the living room, and down the steps to that door.

She swallowed hesitantly as she pried open that door as if it were delicate porcelain. Inside the clean room laid the man himself and her father, his tired eyes peaking from behind his circular glasses, a soft expression of sadness.

She tried to hold her father's gaze but, as she stood halted in the middle of the room, door swinging closed behind her, she could feel his gaze boring into her very essence. She jolted, turning her eyes to the man who sat there, sick but so very powerful.

Her hand began to shake harder now, but it wasn't from the nerves, or the anxiety that had plagued her for weeks. No, it was in anticipation. She felt herself practically leap forward, sitting in the chair at his bedside and reached out to touch the man with the villainous hand—without so much as a confirmatory word.

She had pleaded for too long, asking time after time to soothe her own conscious, trying to protect herself from her own mentality. But no longer. No longer will she bow to appease her own mind, forcing herself to live with the anxiety, letting it morph her personality into a bitter, angry shell of a person.

No longer.

The thing inside rushed forwards with undisguised glee, bursting into Maximilian's body with a power she couldn't possibly have produced before. She could feel the exaltation as the thing spread over the man's body, accounting for each and every cell, mapping each vein, comprehending every link in the mind. Her mind exploded with the magnitude of the information she suddenly possessed.

A map of the body that put every literary description, every diagram, every carefully constructed art piece to shame. She saw it in its totality, how one simple electrical signal in the brain created a wonderful tapestry of actions and reactions across the body in such complexity that she would never be able to write it, never be able to express it.

She knew, in that moment, that it was something that would remain forever within her brain, clear and precise.

But, as the thing from within her came to complete its adventure around the Maximilian's body, she knew what would happen next. She could feel her heart leap into her throat as the power she had restricted for so long came to rest just underneath the skin she touched with that hand of hers.

She felt the power shudder, yet she could only close shy away from the havoc that would be wrought, preparing for the corruption it would seed amongst the body's delicate machinery…

Yet, the power laid still, underneath her fingertips.

She checked again, finding the energy merely sitting stagnant, its enormous potential for destruction unrealised. Her eyebrows scrunched as she ventured—tentatively—to inspect the power. She found, instead of the rampaging spawn of horrors, a quiet and docile thing.

Flabbergasted, she checked over and over, disbelief filling her before a new emotion took precedence.

Realisation, a pure enlightenment of understanding. In that moment of crystal clarity, her mind took each and every moment that the thing had rebelled inside of her, desperate for a chance to destroy everything that her and her family had built, and recontextualized it.

"Why mummy? Why does it want to hurt me?" Words she had spoken so many years ago sprouted from her mind. She remembered her mother's face, beautiful and kind, overcome with sadness in an intensity she should barely fathom back then. But now…

"It doesn't want to hurt you, bub. It just wants to help."

She understood.

Her mind, and the power, together were two parts of the whole. The understanding, the vision, the clarity partnered with innate instinct itself, a knowledge that surpassed anything that could be analysed, or calculated.

Some small part of her tried to pull back, but it was too late. She understood too much to possibly turn away from it. Not as the truth stared her so boldly in the face. Her mind raced through Maximilian Avenforth's body, pinpointing each and every diseased cell with unbelievable precision.

Her mind pondered for a moment as she stared at those cells and the virus that they were reproducing. So many times, before she had tried to kill the virus with her own hands, trying to burn it away with her power, yet each time they ran rampant multiplying dramatically.

Now, it was all too clear. With barely a thought, the power she had restrained to severely raced forwards jubilantly, each cell it touched, each vein, every bone, every gland changed. Each place it touched lit up with a brilliance inside of her mind, a correctness so apparent it almost hurt.

The power danced through Maximilian's body, forcing the body to work how she wanted it to, organising it with the instinct, and commanding it with the vision. Maximilian's body was suddenly a battlefield, each and every cell controlled through her instinct, every component in his body focussed on simply eradicating the insidious invaders. Time blurred as her mind solely devoted itself to the task.

The battle waged, each second drawn into ten as the invading disease was methodically destroyed, its nature as an unthinking, unfeeling thing being no match Alena.

And then it was over, as quickly as it started. The virus was gone, destroyed by the body it inhabited with the careful guidance of Alena's instinct and intelligence. Wisdom and Understanding.

Its job completed, the power she had held from herself for so many years bounded across Maximilian's body once again, setting it back in order, then returning once again to its jailor. Only now, a deep knowledge within her understood that it had never been a being, or a thing. It had always simply been her, another limb that only her and those like her possessed, an aspect of her mind so powerful—so intrinsic—that it could never truly be contained.

All of a sudden, she felt a hand gently cover hers, shocking her back into reality. She stared down at the hand, the fingers long and thin, with a delicateness that you'd expect from an instrumentalist. Even now she could see the veins, nerves and bone shift and fire as it moved. She shook herself of the mental image and followed the arm upwards towards the body it was attached to, then the face of the man she had healed.

The face, strong jaw covered in a light dusting of stubble on smooth, warmly coloured skin. His light brown hair framing his face, slowly growing over the course of testing. But nothing even came close to his eyes.

An ordinary brown, by all means, but it was something else entirely that was so powerfully capturing about them. They burned with a fire so bright that she could feel the heat on her skin as she stared into them. And all in one moment, she truly saw.

In the back of her mind the vaguely remembered Rethi telling her about Maximilian once. He swore to her that, for just a second, he could see what the man truly thought, how he actually felt. He had seen himself in those eyes, any number of future versions of himself, all undeniably successful. She had humoured him, but secretly believed it to be a fiction created by an overenthusiastic boy.

Now she saw just how wrong she was. As she looked into the eyes of the otherwise unremarkably featured man, she could see herself in a painful clarity.

Healer of many, saviour of all who she touched, her hands curing the deadliest of afflictions in a moment. Each life saved benefits another, each life a tree that will grow to shade the others.

Protector of the people, each touch protecting against an unseen threat, one that could cause unknown suffering for millions. Every person protected, a wall between them and a thousand others.

Shaper of futures, a delicate change with a careful hand, changing the fate of a parent's child, and that child's child in turn. For every generation, exponentially more are saved from a fate untenable within the brutality of the world.

Educator of the masses, dispersing knowledge hundreds of years more advanced than what is available, creating a foundation of understanding for generations of scientists and doctors to breakdown and utilise, saving a truly uncountable number of people through the passage of time.

She found herself smiling as she saw these versions of herself, an odd emotion welling up from within her that she hadn't experienced for a long, long time. It took her only a moment to identify it, and when she did, she couldn't stop the sob from escaping her.

It was pride.


A/N: Well, here we are! Time for my first proper Patreon plug!

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Was that infomercial enough for you? Anyways, if you enjoy, and feel like throwing a few bucks my way, have at it. I'll appreciate you for it

 

[Sarius]

Chapter 59: A Path Forwards

I reclined into the heavily padded chair, sinking into its soft cushioning. It wasn't too soft, not so much that I sank into it like you might a beanbag. But there was just enough to be comforting and pleasant, underlaid with a firmness that supported your butt and back.

How many times had I mused in this chair, wondering just how humans—or maybe just people, considering that there were other races—would have created this sort of chair without the modern tools to assist them that I had the luxury of in a past life. For me, it was another example of just what we, as people, were capable of. Even if it was the simplest, most mundane thing, I always found myself surprised by the knowledge, ingenuity, and understanding that people used to survive the harsh world they were provided as home.

I sipped at my tea, its taste was clear and pleasant without the milk I normally had in it. Thought I may as well try something different, a little celebration of Alena's achievement and my small part in it. It was Mayer's favourite tea, distinctly herbal and almost obnoxious in the strength of its taste. However, after a few sips, the taste mellows on your tongue and calms you. Instead of the almost overpowering affair the first few sips had been, it was like the air of the nearby forest. Refreshing and honest. There was no hidden aftertaste, or secretive ingredients and additives. It was what you tasted.

I dragged my eyes up from my cup, looking at the man that sat across from me in his favourite chair. In one hand he held his own cup of tea, and in the other he held yet another ancient looking book, splayed open with one hand as he read. I took another sip of the tea before I finally spoke.

"You know." I started, calling the man's attention. When he looked up at me, staring at me for a long moment, he nodded and tucked the ancient book away, redirecting his focus to me. I had always appreciated that about the man; he was never afraid to give you his undivided attention.

"Every time I think I find the answer to something, the 'correct' way, no matter how sure I am that I've got it in my hands, I'm always proven wrong." Mayer raised a bushy eyebrow, his now slightly younger face only creasing a little with amusement.

"The Sharah?" He asked probingly. I waved it away, shaking my head.

"Yes, but also everything else too." Stopping for a moment to think, I eventually sighed and carried on, "I thought I had Alena pegged as kid too scared of her own power to willingly use it herself, and I was right… but I was also wrong."

Mayer nodded his head slowly but said nothing. I let a small grin creep onto my face as I remembered the early morning test.

"I knew what I was doing to her. I knew that every time I made her treat me, her own ideas were only enforced with failure after failure. I could feel her anxiety between walls, lingering around her house like a miasma of bad emotion. Maybe there was a better way–" Mayer shook his head gently.

"You did what you had to do." I sighed with a little exasperation. We both knew it was true. Of course, I did what had to be done, even if it was unpleasant. Yet, as I looked into the old warrior's eyes, I knew that we both didn't believe that it was a good enough excuse.

I smiled wryly, continuing onwards, "When she came downstairs this morning, I knew something was different. She had found the fork in the road. The make or break. When she touched me, her mind crazed with a whirlwind of emotions, I knew she'd done it." I caught a glimpse of a reminiscing expression on Mayer's face. I knew he understood.

"She became so much more than what she was, after that. Right in front of my eyes, she found a strength even I couldn't see in her. It was… enchanting."

We sat in silence for minutes afterwards, both of us remembering that moment, undoubtedly vastly different moments, but also so very similar. I drank down the rest of the tea I'd been given and placed the empty cup on the small chairside table, letting myself sink further back into the chair.

"Do the surprises ever stop?" I asked in the end. The question that had been on my lips the moment I'd seen that change in the small, hate-filled girl. The same one who had railed against me so thoroughly since I'd known her, ignoring everything to act out an inner hate. A crippling self-doubt.

The man before me, though he now looked only middle aged, was just over two centuries old. I wonder what he saw in me at that moment, as his eyes light up with undisguisable mirth, a glee so pure that it infected my own expression.

"No, Max. For some that live as long or longer than me it does, but never once have I found myself unsurprised by that moment of transformation. People have always been endlessly surprising to me." The answer was simple, but it was exactly what I needed. Every time I thought I understood, I was always proven wrong, shown a new side of the equation, a new point of view. Honestly, as frustrating as it was, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Mayer downed the last of his own tea, placing the empty cup on his own chairside table, letting the comfortable silence sit between us. But of course, the question we all knew was coming finally made its way out of Mayer's smiling lips.

"When?" I sighed with as much humour as I could muster. I looked out of one of the nearby windows, seeing Orisis slowly seeking to eclipse the sun that stayed forever stagnant in the peak of the sky.

"Tomorrow, early morning. We've prepped everything, I think." Mayer grinned, knowingly. You can never truly prep everything. Something always falls by the wayside.

"So you heal Rethi's mother this evening." He stated, and I nodded needlessly. Rethi had come to meet with me every day during the testing, hoping that each time the solution had been found. I knew Rethi felt guilty about it, I didn't even need to look into his emotions to see that much. He hated watching his girlfriend suffer like she had been or watching me continually infect myself for test after test. He wasn't overreacting, as such, but he was needlessly fretting.

Of course, he wouldn't be the person he was if he didn't worry himself over others, even if what they were striving for would ultimately benefit him. As of right now, Alena would be preparing Shae to be healed. I would likely miss the act itself, but it wasn't for me to enjoy. It was Rethi's moment, one he deserved to spend with his mother in peace.

I pulled myself from the comfy chair and stood in the middle of the room, sucking in a big breath of air. In that moment I committed everything I could to memory. The smells, the tastes, the atmosphere, the bookshelves filled with that ancient texts have been read a thousand times, the collection of three comfortable chairs where I had spent countless hours musing about it all with Mayer and Rethi, cup of tea in hand. I could only smile bitterly, knowing full well that—try as I might—I would eventually forget most of what was here. I would forget the soft but slightly frayed rug that sat underfoot over beautifully maintained wooden floors. I would eventually forget the individual patterns that each cover of those ancient books had, the only way I had to identify them from each other, being unable to read the esoteric languages they were titled in.

I would forget much of this little house. But there was one thing about it all that I would never forget. Could never forget.

I smiled down at the sitting man, extending a hand to him and quirking an eyebrow. The man rolled his eyes theatrically but took that hand—letting me pull him from his chair with a careful ease. We looked each other in the eyes for a moment after that, his stone-grey meeting my own intense brown, our hands wrapped around each other in front of us. With a grin, I pulled on the hand, levering the much older man into a full embrace, closing my arms around his body with as much strength as I could put in without hurting his now entirely mortal form.

He collapsed into my embrace with a rush of air from his lungs, almost totally subsumed by my much taller figure, but it wasn't long until I felt his own arms wrap around my back, gently patting it like a father would his child. I snorted at the mental image, realising that it held more truth than not, and the snort quickly became a restrained sob.

For all my bravado—all my confidence and enthusiasm—my heart radiated its hurt through my body, the only consolation was the smaller form of my greatest teacher, wrapped in my arms. The hardened and developed muscles of Mayer's shoulder, created through nigh endless training and constant battle, became a soft resting spot for my head in that moment. Who would have known that a man—purpose built to fight against the unending tide of foes—would have such a gentle soul?

I let myself laugh in his own powerful embrace, the mixture of laughing and sobbing, just as undignified as you'd expect it to be. I let the emotions run dry, embracing the man who had stepped up to be everything I needed him to be, despite having no reason to do so. At every chance he'd been given to end me where I stood, to send me away to a certain death; he had advised me, consoled me, taught me. And in turn, he trusted me at every chance I had to screw him over, to abuse his money, power, and influence.

And now I realised that I stood in front of a father I had lost to a duty I couldn't ignore. Second only to my father back on Earth, one who I could never meet again, maybe only in a life beyond death.

I wiped away the tears and gunk from my face and pulled away from the man's embrace, smiling weakly at he who was nothing short of a father in spirit. He smiled sadly but quickly turned back to his seat, rummaging beside it for just a moment before returning with a long wooden case.

The wood it was made of was dark and gorgeous, the ever so subtle pattern in the smooth, varnished surface of the wood was a treat for the eyes. The design danced across the wood, the tight pattern edging the long rectangular box with a faint gold colour, catching the light in a magical display of true craftsmanship. Mayer gently presented the box to me, leaving the heavy object sitting in my hands.

It was a piece of art, through and through. I could feel the pure emotion that had been poured into this simple but magical artwork. I looked to Mayer and he nodded, giving me the approval to open the box. I placed one hand underneath it, gently pulling the snug lid from its counterpart, revealing a small piece of folded paper.

The piece of paper sat over top of a mess of silk—stuffed over an indentation in the black felt padding of the box's inside. I quirked an eyebrow at the man in front of me, whose grin was growing by the second. I picked up the delicate paper and unfolded it with a flick. On the pristine paper, only a few words were written, but they stuck me with glorious surprise.

A box in return for a life with purpose and futures. More than a fair trade. –Orion Jothian.

I let out a bark of laughter, a smile so wide it hurt my cheeks as it emblazoned itself on my face. The Jothian boy? That angry young man who'd once attacked me late one night had made this? Was that all it took, those measly words I had thrown at him in my anger?

No, I hope he understood that it was never those words that had given him purpose or a future. This artistry, the creativity and dedication that laid within this simple box was never something those words could have inspired. It was always within him, just waiting for the right moment.

I placed the lid of the box down with the little note of paper resting inside, and returned my focus back to the box, its true contents obscured by the length of silk stuffed into it. I grabbed it and slowly pulled it away, revealing a long length of wood, immaculately carved with sharp and precise edges that whispered of a young boy's mind. My memories returned to so many months ago when I had awoken from my first night in this little house and picked up this very length of carved wood.

Before my eyes, I swear I could once again see a young boy grinning with a wild glee up at me, his fiery red hair an explosion leaping from his head. The vision of the boy sent chills across my body, a knowledge that this was the maker of the wand. I could feel the emotions of that boy, a snapshot of his very being, forever encapsulated within it.

"Axen." I said, the name coming to me with ease. As if I had known the red-haired boy for as long as I could remember. Mayer's grin was filled with satisfaction.

"His wand is yours now. A gift to help you remember. Remember the boy, remember that very first morning." I gently pulled the wand from its snug compartment, feeling the warm wood with my fingers before returning it, along with the silk and note, to their rightful places. I clutched that box with more care than I'd held anything before in my entire life.

I looked at the man in front of me, barely holding back the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes, my nostrils and lips twitching with the effort. He laughed; his own eyes moist as he stared back at me in turn.

Then, the most superb warmth flooded through me like a million campfires, enjoyed by those who sat around them. I could feel that warmth leak from my skin, the room brightening with the sudden flush. Voices that didn't exist, spoke in hushed tones, or boisterous ones. The phantom clamour of jolly men; their plates, mugs, and invisible cutlery clashing with meals as satisfying as the company. The sounds of important, and not so important arguments between those who were as different as they could be—or those too similar to possibly agree.

And yet, for all the multifaceted ways this warmth made itself known, it all boiled down to a staggering closeness. Binding the most unlikely of people together over a moment of pure safety, with warmth and food, conversation and jokes, arguments and passion, or a solemn quiet, preceding an uncertain future.

My body stepped forwards without my command, my hand raising to gently caress the side of Mayer's head. The light confusion but fundamental understanding danced in the wise man's eyes as he observed me, not acting to stop my body. When my mouth opened unbidden, a clamour of voices—steeped in power—spewed forth from it, filling the room to the brim.

"You, the father of our kin. Stand tall against the world, for you are the one who guided its saviour." And with a blazing warmth, my lips pressed against the older man's forehead, the favour of my brothers and sisters imparted to my spiritual father. I stepped back, almost embarrassed, but that small amount of favour that I had unintentionally imparted meant far more than could truly be conveyed to those without it.

Mayer's stony-grey eyes opened after along moment, now contained within them a tiny fire, little more than a candle. But it was enough. We looked at each other again and smiled.

With a wordless farewell, I made to leave that small little house. Even as it pained me to not speak, not have one last conversation, one last cup of team, one last embrace, I knew.

All that would be said, had been said. All that could be given, had been given.

I didn't dare turn back to look at that little house.

---​

I had trained the night away in my field, spinning, leaping, and swinging with fervour. I could feel the strength in my muscles alter to surpass what I ever could have attained with that little screen in my mind. My body was slowly crafted and forged through an endless pursuit of understanding myself.

The Sharah had become more than just a fighting style, more than a set of movements. It had become a language of movement, of understanding and fluency. The Sharah was not understanding itself, far from it. No, it was merely the path you walked to get there.

I had thought myself gifted in its steps, but I had only been looking at my feet and a metre of the path ahead of me, foolishly believing that I could see its end. Now, I saw more of it, enough to know that over the next hill there would be a thousand more hills to travel, and mountains beyond even that. I knew that the Sharah was only one path you could take. Alongside it was thousands of other just like it, some in disrepair and degrading, others that were clean and nice, bypassing hills and mountains in favour of flatter ground. Yet, despite their differences, both were somehow equal in it all, unable to be anything but for them to eventually reach whatever it was that lay at the end of the paths.

I transitioned smoothly from a training kata, yet another bastardisation, into walking in the direction of Rethi's home. The trip was short and sweet, arriving at Rethi's door, the sun still yet to be unobstructed by the orbiting Orisis.

I felt the emotional states within, two states bound with an indescribable joy, and a lingering sorrow. I rapped two knuckles against the door, feeling both emotional states spike and then calm, the morose atmosphere leaking from their minds. I left them for a minute and opened the door gently to reveal both Orsens within the living room.

Shae, though clearly healed, still looked unwell but her skin was returning to a more natural shade of pink, along with a clearly increased appetite, judging from the remains of food surrounding her. There was a momentary spike of anger as she saw me, but it died into a quiet sadness partnered with shame. I only smiled. She was never an evil woman, simply misguided and in pain. And now she had been tentatively released from both, and she was the person we both knew she was underneath it all.

I turned to Rethi, meeting his questioning gaze. I nodded with sorrow at the boy, watching his heart drop. He turned to his mother, pulled her close and whispered into her ear that made her everything weep with a loving pride and unspeakable sadness. He pulled away, kissing his mother gently on the forehead, and pried himself away from her. He quickly began walking towards the door with a confidence I knew he didn't feel, just as unable to look back as I was.

As we walked away from that run-down house, I could feel Shae's heart break. I knew there was nothing I could do to help her, except for one thing.

"Unsheathe Hindle and raise it, for your mother to see." And he did. I watched, in that moment, as Hindle pushed away the gloom of dawn with the shine of the Midday sun. For just that moment, Shae Orsen felt relief, the true knowledge of her son's overwhelming future bringing comfort. Leaving only the ache of a broken heart.

We continued towards Gram's Apothecary, the storefront alive with anxious emotions. I entered, leaving Rethi outside to finally prepare the horses and the bags. Immediately I was confronted with Alena and Michael, both walking towards their entrance. Upon seeing me, they both froze, nodding at me in greeting simultaneously. I smiled along with a nod back. As anxious as they both were, they were prepared. Alena even had the beginnings of glee within her. Michael, despite his fears and anxieties for his daughter, understood that with me, Alena was as safe as she could ever be. After all, I had made that pact and bound by Divine soul to it, however unintentional.

Alena walked forwards to join me, turning around to look at her father as she stood by my side, prepared to leave the only family member she had left. Michael fiddled with his clothing for a moment before he turned to me, taking off his glasses, and staring me dead in the eyes.

"She better come back." He said stonily, though I could tell he was barely restraining the sob behind his expression. I nodded deeply, almost a bow. Alena, however, walked back towards her father and gently caressed his face, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. Gram blinked, surprise running through his mind before Alena grinned, whispered a goodbye, and left as quickly as she could before she could never make herself leave.

I smiled, knowing full well that she had just healed her father's poor eyesight. We regarded each other one last time, the bookish man burdening me with one last—entirely clear—gaze before shooing me out of his store.

And less than a half hour later, we were gone. Following the old, beaten road out of the small town, leaving behind everything and moving towards a future as uncertain as any. It was now that every step felt like it mattered—no longer confined to a small part of the path. Now I truly walked forwards, towards whatever waited at the end of the treacherous path, good or bad.

The first steps of hope.


A/N: And this, my friends, is the completion of Unwieldy's first 'book'.

What a ride, this has been, over the last month and the months I spent writing before that, even. I've been writing so much that it was easy to forget these singular chapters, the ones that should have burned themselves into my brain with their significance, but they didn't.

The story continues forwards, towards a future outside of a small little town, within a world far larger than Maximilian knows quite yet.

I hope you all enjoy what is to come.

A massive thanks to my three 10-dollar Patrons; Thomas H., TheBreaker, and Dyson C.!

If you want to support me, and receive up to 90 total chapters in advance, check out my Patreon!