Little Family Secrets
By Major Mike Powell III
The very moment Isabella "Ivy" Valentine saw him, the second she saw those blonde locks and blue eyes of his, she knew that rude, self-righteous, entitled bloke was Sophitia's son.
Patroklos Alexandra was an interesting creature, and when they first met and clashed swords, he was an arrogant little wanker, in Ivy's honest, unapologetic opinion.
It stood to reason that Ivy took it upon herself to teach Patroklos a lesson in humility as well as swordsmanship.
"You're good, lad. You are good…but not that good," Ivy spoke smooth and cool, yet she looked down to the crackling fire of the campsite to subtly avoid Patroklos' gaze. He had Sophitia's eyes…
"…" the boy was oddly quiet, and rightfully so. The snake sword wielder had not quite held back in teaching him a lesson in humility…but he knew there was more to this buxom, silver-haired lady than meets the eye, sword and shield. He could feel it…some form of connection…
"Ma'am…who are you?" Patroklos' piercing blue gaze met Ivy's as he spoke and subtly demanded she tell him the truth. She met the boy's eye as she smiled ever-so-slightly.
"You are just like your mother, lad." Patroklos' eyes widened in shock, not only at the revelation but even more so at the sheer affection and fondness in the Englishwoman's voice, a tone that remained as she went on.
"I am Isabella Valentine. I was your mother's little secret. We met long ago, so very long ago…we traveled together and eventually, she and I fell in love," Ivy spoke with no hesitation and no small amount of amusement at the utter shock and bewilderment in Patroklos' handsome face. It was comical, to be honest. Ivy even went the extra mile with the cheeky comment of "And yes, my chest was a big reason I always caught your mother's eye…Plus the outfit I used to wear back then~" Ivy couldn't fight the deep, hearty chuckle that escaped her upon seeing Patroklos' handsome face get painted an adorable, healthy red at the imagery she had just evoked in his mind with her words, even if Patroklos had never actually seen the outfit that Ivy used to wear long ago.
"S-So…you and Mother…b-but…but my father never…?" The boy stuttered, still flustered after Ivy's revelation. The woman chuckled again.
"Rothion was never aware of your mother and I. Not once did I show my face in Athens nor did Sophitia ever slip and reveal our relationship to him. Your father was never aware of my existence. Sophitia and I were careful with our love…" Ivy looked into the fire, seemingly lost in her own memories; memories of simple love of maidenhood and burning nights of passion.
"When your little sister was at the mercy of Soul Edge and Sophitia had to fight those she had loved for the sake of her daughter, I joined her in the darkness and helped maintain her sanity, lad. Many a night I held her in my arms, reassuring her that she was not a monster and that her daughter, Pyrrha, would be alright. Thanks to me, she was able to smile when she was being crushed by regret…" Ivy looked up into the contemplative eyes of Patroklos looking right back at her.
"Lady Valentine…" now, there was a big wave of nostalgia. "Who killed my mother?" The hand that he had resting on his armored knee curled into a fist. Ivy looked solemn.
"The ring-blade. The twisted, wretched lass with the ring blade." She saw Patroklos attempt to mask his ire rather poorly. He was not yet ready.
"Patroklos. Lad, listen to me." His attention was hers as Ivy moved around the camp fire to sit by the boy's side and then, his whole body stiffened, became practically rigid as the Valentine lady wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close.
It was a comforting embrace for him. Ivy's warm, soft body was alien to him…yet there was an odd-yet-welcome comfort in the Englishwoman's embrace. The young man soon relaxed yet did not quite return Ivy's hug.
"You're good, Patroklos. You are a good swordsman, but you are not ready to face that girl with the ring-blade, much less rescue your sister, Pyrrha." Ivy looked Patroklos in the eye as she gave him this revelation. "If you go and come across them, you will die. You're not yet ready to free Pyrrha from the influence of Soul Edge. You will need assistance, Patroklos."
Having his attention, Ivy gave him the information about the Three Sacred Treasures, the weapons that, when awakened, would indeed grant Patroklos the power to successfully destroy Soul Edge, to wipe it from the face of the earth and from the pages of history, and save Pyrrha.
"Lady Valentine, one question before I go search for the Three Sacred Treasures, if I may?" Patroklos spoke as he sheathed his sword in his shield.
"You're finally using manners, lad~" Ivy grinned ever-so-slightly. "What is it?"
Patroklos hesitated for a moment before voicing his question.
"Lady Valentine…how do you know all this? How long have you been…?" Ivy's interruption was a hearty chuckle.
"And here I thought I taught you some manners, lad. You know you don't ask a woman her age," Ivy gave him a good-natured scolding. Then, her face turned slightly solemn as she spoke seriously. "Patroklos, I have been investigating Soul Edge and Soul Calibur for so many decades, I've lost count. I know for a fact that I should not be alive by now…yet the clock stopped for me. I made time stop for me. I still have a job to do…" She moved her fingers over Patroklos' shield and the hilt of the sword poking over the rim, stroking the weapons gently.
Her eyes pierced into his, seemingly looking into his very soul.
"My job is to awaken the Three Sacred Treasures and give you the power to stop Soul Edge once and for all. But just be warned…be very careful with that power. With great power comes great temptation. Only after Soul Edge's influence is banished from this world can I finally rest...and see Sophie again. Don't disappoint me, Patroklos Alexandra. Don't disappoint her, your mother's, legacy."
The grim resolve in Ivy's voice moved Patroklos yet he limited his response to a subtle nod of his head and the unspoken promise of "I won't fail, Lady Valentine."
Ivy smiled gently, patting Patroklos' shoulder. She then moved to sit down by the camp fire and calling out to Patroklos one last time to send him off to his new destination.
"Now, go! Let the legend come back to life!"
The Legend will never die