Chapter 3: Blessing.

Being a mother is many things. Sometimes hard, sometimes easy.

Othertimes confusing, othertimes simple.

At times dreadful but also cheerful.

Liadan learned this very early in motherhood. Kids will be kids, be it little uncontrollable balls of energy or big eyed little rascals who climb into your bed at night cause they couldn't sleep. Liadan loved her son dearly, with all his traits and flaws and would always encourage him to grow, as both a person and as whatever he dreamed of becoming when he grew up.

And right now, for the first time in her life, Liadan regrets those words as she watches her son train.

Five years passed since he began his training and she watched her son shift from a small boy to a growing young man. Usually a mother would look at all that training paying off with pride, happy that her child is pushing himself to become as best as he can.

For her it was a dreaful reminder. She just couldn't understand how her husband could allow her son to become a huntsman. People would usually talk about the proffesion in positive ways. Of how heroic they are or how grand their deeds are. But what about the otherside of a Hunstmans duty?

Of the time where the families of these braves souls would hear their news of their demise. When a daughter learns that her mother died without even a body left before the Grimms relentless fury? When a son learns that his father was left for dead in some alleyway with nothing but a slashed throat for his troubles.

Liadan knew that their work was necessary. She would have been a fool to think otherwise. Their sacrifice was necessary for them to live, their bones a stepping stone for progress of humanity.

But not her son! The mere thought of it being Nyx laying in some ditch left her sleepless at night.

But yet… he continued.

He trained and trained, day to day with his grandfather at his side. Even now he was outside, his weapons in hand as he twirled around, chains rattling as they spun.

Archibald stood by the side, a stoic in impression marking his face as Nyx finished the exercise. He old man narrow as he scrutinizes the boys performance. He said some words which Liadan could not make out in the distance and tapped his cane twice. Nyx nodded his head to the man and began the exercise again.

Behind her she heard the distinct sound of a door opening, the heavy sound of the steps betraying them as her husbands. He walked to the kitchen sink and washed his hand from soot and ash. A faint coat of sweat covered his brow, his face bright as he whistled a lofty tone. He turned to her.

"Hello honey."

Liadan gave her husband a flat look and kept gazing out of the window.

Jasper cringed, his wifes fury nothing new to him. The last years were quite interesting. She would be mad, go back to normal, be mad again and so forth all in the span of weeks. If he didn't know any better he'd think she was pregnant. Not that he wouldn't find it great.

He walked next to her and watched their son train.

"He is doing well. At least dad says so."

Silence.

"Still no sign of his Semblance tough."

Silence.

"Polygamy is very In these days."

She elbowed him in the rib, hard.

"Yeah I deserved that. Still, means you're listening."

"I am in no mood to joke, Jasper."

"Five years and you are still hung up 'bout it."

She shot him a look. "What? Am I supposed to do? Be happy for my son as he throws his life away?"

"You could support him. Its not like he'll just stop training. He is serious about it."

Liadan felt silent, her gaze again pointed at her son. "I scared… I don't want him to get hurt. Is it such a bad thing?"

Jasper put his hand on her shoulder. "No. But if you keep doing this, you'll just push him away. Believe in him." With Jasper left the room and went back to work.

Leaving Liadan with her thoughts.


Foward strike, twilling the other chain,upward strike into spin, sideways slash with both scythes.

Those were the thoughts of one Nyx Cage as he trained. His as-of-yet nameless weapons in his hands firm in his grip and sweat running down his head. The weapon was weird, even in the standarts of Huntsman. Two scythes connected to a pair of gauntles via chains. I

Back when Nyx started using the weapons, after his Grandpa unlocked his aura so he dosent accidently scalp himself like a total idiot, they felt akward in his hand. The movements were alien, the weight offputting and the chain fiddly. Luckily tough he had his grandpa. The man was a genius when it came to fighting. He taught him the basics and from there helped him developed his own style. He remembers asking him once why he didn't teach him how to fight like himself.

He flicked his forehead and answered. "I am teaching you to fight like Nyx, not like Archibald."

He honestly didn't know that the man could be so profound.

It wa suprising really.

Right side slash, spin aaand…Cross Slash

He brough the weapons down, slashing forward in a cross shape. He let out a breath as he relaxed a bit, seeing his grandfathers somewhat pleased expression. That was usually at best as it got so he didn't complain.

"Good good, next we'll do grappling practice. I am not entirely happy with ho- " the mans naggy voice came to an end and Nyx looked up to see whats wrong. Archibald send him a confused look. Or rather behind him. He turned around to see his mother, her hands clutching each other awkwardly infront of her stomach and her face conflicted. Nyx gave his grandpa a sidelong look as if to ask what to do. The man shrugged.

Big help he is really.

"Can I talk to you for a minute, dear?" He noted that his mothers voice seemed strained, like she was certain of herself.

"Sure."

"Ehm, alone? Sorry- " she didn't get further until his grandpa raised a hand, beginning to walk towards the house. He grinned as he passed."Don't bite his head off."

Mother and Son gave the man a wry look before they were finally alone with a uncomfortable silence.

"So…" Began Nyx, not entirely sure what to make of this.

His mother for her part remained silent, looking at him or rather his weapons. She raised her head to look him in the eyes.

"You know, when I first heard that you wanted to be a Huntsman I was immidiately against it. Still am actually." Said Liadan her voice light. Nyx made to protests but she held up her hand, silencing him.

"But, I would be a fool to not see how serious you are with this. So…" she came closer to him, putting her hands on his cheek, puffing them up. "…I need you to promise me something."

Nyx was silent for a moment before asking. "What?"

"Please, please be careful. I know it may sound obvious but I need to know that you'll be careful." Said his mother, her voice pleading. Her eyes shown a desperation which didn't suit them and made Nyx feel sorry for making her worry in the first place. He gently gripped her hands.

"I do." Answered Nyx, his tone resolute and confident.

Liadan smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. She made to turn away before stopping, regarding her son one last time. "Also… I want you to remember something."

Nyx tilted his head, waiting for the words that will define him to the end of his days, even if he dosent know it.

"Wherever you are, in whatever trouble you may be, know this…" she started as she hugged her son.

"…You are never alone."

Nyx stood in his usual training area, watching his mother retreating form.

He contemplated the nature of her words.

You are never alone.

Something about that kind of stuck with him. He felt encouraged, like something is pushing him forward to do better. A warm feeling spread trough his body, new but also very familiar. Like meeting a friend you haven't seen for a long time. A slight glow surrounded his body, which went unnoticed by Nyx, but not his Grandfather. The man had watched the exchange from the side and noticed the perculiar effect it seemed to have had on his grandchild. A very familiar effect, to a huntsman at least.

He picked up a small pebble, no bigger then a toe, and with the dexterity which gave away his years of experience flicked it towards Nyx with his cane. It would hurt but not damage, his grandsons aura sure being more then enough to defend him.

But it never hit.

Unnoticed by Nyx and completely unexpected by Archibald, a hand shot out of Nyx upper back catching the pebble with little effort. It was a whispy black color, its form unstable. It spasmed once before it dissapeard back into the boys back, the pebble falling soundlessly onto the ground.

Nyx turned to face the man, his face clueless.

"…What? Is something on my face?"

Meanwhile.

Inside the house, in a small room usually called "Liadans hobby room" Nyx's mother sat in a rocking chair. In her hands tread and needle met weaving the material as she worked on her next project…

Her feares and worries locked safely away.

For now, at least.