"Focus on your anger." Lovino nodded, his eyes closed. He stood in what was becoming a comfortable position. "Take a deep breath, Lovino, and I want you to summon your first weapon." His first weapon—nothing more than a dismal looking stick. He imagined it, tried to picture it in his palm, but found difficultly making anything happen. He tried to focus on his anger, tried to focus on the fact that his inability to focus on his anger frustrated the hell out of him, but every time he got close to anything of his power his gut would churn and he would turn back. Arthur sighed. "Open your eyes. What's the issue, here? This power should be the easiest for you to summon."
Lovino shrugged. "I'm not getting angry, I guess." That was progress, right?
"I'm not asking you to become angry, Lovino. I'm asking you to focus on that part of your power. This is the issue. You let your actual emotions control what happens. You need to figure out how the different energies work and feel, and only then will you be able to control them."
"How the fuck do you focus on anger without being angry?"
"You're focusing too much on converting your energy into emotion. What happens when you get angry."
"I don't fucking know. I want to hit shit. Happy?"
"When people become angry or frustrated often times their reflexes encage and they are able to focus on short-term happenings around them. This is because anger is a defense mechanism."
"No, my defense mechanism is a shield, and it fucking hurts."
"We're not talking about that. We're talking about encaging your body and mind like anger does, only without allowing your actual emotions to stifle your control. Close your eyes again. Good. Now, focus on your body as a whole. Slowly encage your muscles, one at a time, starting from the muscles in your feet and ending with those in your face. Slower. Don't forget to breath. Good. Tell me how you feet."
"Ridiculous. Seriously, I don't remember signing up to be a fucking yogi when I got here."
"You didn't sign up to be here at all."
Touché. Taking a deep breath in through his nose, he strengthened his position with his outhale. He needed to focus. Encage the mind and the body? Was he not doing that all the time? How did one encage the mind? He tried to try and focus on the noises around him. The airless heat and blinding light separated from him by eyelids. He noted the sweat creeping down his skin, the way his nose dried the more he breathed; cold. While he did this, he tensed the muscles he was able to in his upright position, bending a bit more in his knees, strengthening his core, screwing his eyes closed so tight he had to release in for fear of a headache.
Swirling, dark, familiar; it started in the pit of his stomach. Gritting his teeth Lovino focused on it. It grew smaller. Quickly he reassessed his focus back to his surroundings. Noises and heat and sun, and in the back of his mind, his hand, beckoning a plain sword.
He opened his eyes when he felt a weight solidify in his hand.
"Brilliant!" Arthur smiled at him with a slight nod. "No get rid of it and do it again."
"We've done this at least a hundred times," Lovino groaned.
"It's been over two hundred, actually. You will not leave here until you have flawlessly summoned your first weapon of anger at least a thousand times flawlessly."
Lovino groaned.
"Did you get a good night's sleep?" Lovino asked as he and Feliciano made their way back to the sparring area from lunch.
"Yeah, I had a really weird dream that your laptop had an ice-maker in it and for some reason we were making smoothies, but when you used the ice-maker it totally shattered your screen."
"You should really patent that idea before someone else gets ahold of it."
"What about you?"
"I don't know if I really want to put my name on the first laptop ice-maker, but I'll support you."
"No!" Feliciano giggled with a wide shake of his head. "How did you sleep?"
"Oh, uh, fine. No crazy dreams or anything."
"Feliciano!" Ludwig.
"Well, gotta go!" Feliciano chirped, holding up some stupid sign. Lovino rolled his eyes.
"Beat him up for me!"
"Of course! Gilbert gave me a map of all his weaknesses. He shall fall!"
Lovino shook his head. Gods forbid that kid ever get his hands on actual power. He was humorously wondering what his friend would do with his powers—promptly deciding that he would destroy everything—when Arthur made his own way in from lunch. "Are you ready?"
Lovino nodded his head. The two made their way back through the trees to the secluded area that they were practicing in earlier.
"We're going to be working on your first weapon of life, now."
"What?" Lovino asked. "I don't have any powers of life."
"Your shield. It comes from the part of your powers that focuses on life. This includes a wide array of things: pain, lust, excess, pleasure. It is actually quite powerful against your powers of anger which, when controlled by your emotions, focuses on bloodlust and death, so it's no surprise that it was the first line of defense you discovered against Khorne."
"But I wasn't strong enough."
"Not for Khorne, no."
"Okay, so, what do I focus on to bring out my shield?"
"You focus on yourself. You must understand how you're feeling physically. When you're in pain, your nerves send a signal to your brain so that you may be able to fix the problem and protect your essence. In a similar manner, to call to the weapons of life you must be able to focus on what needs to be protected."
"But, I'm not in pain right now. I don't have anything to protect or fix."
"Just the awareness of something to protect can be enough."
Lovino hummed. So, what, like keeping up with medication instead of just taking it when one's in pain? "Alright, let's try it, I guess."
Position and focus. He wasn't sure if he should be encaging his muscles or not, so he let them relax. Lovino attempted to find an ailment, phantom sores from his time with Ludwig, but he couldn't grasp anything. He was progressively getting emptier. "I don't think it's working," Lovino groaned.
"Try to focus on a want to protect yourself."
He tried. Nothing. "Seriously, if you just stab me or something we would be able to move this right along."
"Focus on something else, then. Something you want to protect. A family member or a friend."
Lovino sighed. Something that he would protect? He didn't even want to protect himself, what the fuck made Arthur think that he had the capacity to want to protect something else? He was a selfish bastard. There was no way there was something he valued above himself.
Nothing.
"Brilliant!" Arthur met him with another small smile. "What were you thinking of."
"Uh—er—my—uh—laptop. Feliciano threatened to shatter it at lunch and it—aha—it cost me, like, five hundred bucks and so, uh, yeah—don't want that to happen. Oh, wow, isn't this a cool shield! Looks different in the light!"
His heart pounded as he lifted it to show. The sun glinted from it's ebony surface, the handle wrapping around his knuckles less like a handle and more like a vine.
"It does look different." Arthur observed slowly, taking a look at it. "The shield you used before must have been exclusive to your pain. Does it feel different?"
Lovino noted that he wasn't dying. Still, there was a familiar tint of helplessness that came along with this feeling that now surrounding his chest, pressing down. "Yeah, a little," Lovino admitted quietly. "Before it made the slash on my side feel like it was everywhere and like my whole body was on fire. But now it's as if I can't breathe."
"Interesting. Get rid of it and recall it."
Lovino groaned, letting the feeling drop and the shield dissipate. "Another thousand?"
"Yes. Whine about it and we'll do a thousand with the pain shield, too."
By the time Lovino had done his rounds, Feliciano's laugh and smile and random rambles and sarcastic, empty eye rolls were burned into his memory; his eyelids and thoughts. Even when the last shield dropped he found a tension in his chest that he couldn't dispel.
Fucking-A.
"Hey, Arthur," Lovino muttered as they walked. He had his hands laced behind his head and stared upwards.
"Yes?"
"So, there's multiple weapons for each power?"
"Yes."
"What about for the Neverborns?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, every time I fought Khorne he used that big axe thing against me. But the last time I fought him he had something else. It was a chain, at first, but then it wasn't."
Arthur nodded pensively. "Yes, I was wondering myself what had happened there. I never saw a chain."
"Not at all?"
"I thought you had fallen and that you were trying to summon your shield again."
"So how do I summon that, then? The chains."
Arthur shook his head. "Something like that isn't a power of anger. Khorne should have never been able to possess such a skill. You're saying you thought you were attacked by chains?"
"Wrapped up. I couldn't move."
The British man took a long moment to think. "No. That—It's a form of manipulation. Not of anger. That—" he cut himself off. "Khorne wouldn't be able to control something like that."
"What are you saying?"
Arthur blinked, as if he had forgotten Lovino entirely. "What? Nothing. Don't worry about it. But it's good that you were able to see through it. You adapt quickly."
Lovino frowned.
"Are you asking hypothetically, or are you hinting that it actually happened?"
Lovino tensed his jaw; quick decisions. "What are you even talking about?" he asked the albino blond with a forced roll of his eyes. "Neither. I'm just asking to see if the plot of Hercules would hold up—not the cool version. Disney."
"Oh," Gilbert hummed, bobbing his head a little bit as he thought. "Yeah, no, no way. First off, there's no serum that could drain a god of their godliness—cyanide won't work, either—uhm—but, also, I've never heard of a part god becoming full god. Pretty sure it's strictly impossible."
Lovino nodded. Impossible. But, then, why? Quickly he shook the thought from his head. "Exactly what I told Feliciano. Kid wouldn't listen."
Gilbert laughed. "I'll tell him."
"Uh—No—Don't bother. He's a stubborn ass. Probably forgot the whole conversation on the basis that he was right or something. Bastard."
Gilbert quickly perked up and looked around. "Where's Art?"
Lovino groaned. "No fucking clue. He said to take a break ten years ago."
"Yeah, he gets side tracked a lot. So, how much money you putting on the line?"
"Depends, am I allowed to use my powers?"
The albino smirked. "Only if I'm allowed to use mine."
Lovino set him a scrupulous stare, quirking a brow. The blond's mischievous grin only deepened. "Fucking deal."
"What are you two grinning about," Ludwig accused from the sparring pit he was in.
Gilbert laughed. "Why are you watching us!"
Feliciano said something, but Lovino didn't hear it. Ludwig responded with a shake of his head.
"Over protective little brother?"
"He probably thinks we're scheming to take over the universe."
Lovino smirked. "You know, that was actually my next question."
"Good! We're on the same page then."
Unfortunately, before the two of them could discuss the logistics of their new ambitions, Arthur returned. He looked a bit disheveled, but quickly recollected himself as he stepped into the clearing.
"Sorry about the wait. Are you ready to go, Lovino?"
Lovino grunted a quick "Yeah" as he stood up. Gilbert whined, throwing his head back with a deep pout.
"C'mon, Artie, you're taking away my entertainment."
"Is that all I am to you?"
"Sorry, babe."
The brunet feigned a hurt look, shaking his head. "And here I thought there was more between us. The pages and the cyanide—what about the cyanide? Did you even try putting it in a bowl of sugar and offering them berries?"
"What?" Arthur demanded, mouth slightly agape as he fixed each of them with a serious gaze.
Gilbert's hissing laughter was annoying, but Lovino actually kind of enjoyed the bastard's company. He rolled his eyes with a light laugh of his own. "Nothing. Alright, let's get this over with."
"You should not be going into any part of this training with the attitude of Let's get this over with."
They made it back to their seclusion. Lovino took a deep breath.
"You have discovered two different weapons of despair." Arthur said. "The sword and the mirrors."
"Which one are we doing first?"
"The sword. Now, to summon—"
Lovino just nodded, drowning him out as he got into position, allowing a heaviness to swirl and form. The British man cut himself off. Lovino clicked his tongue. "No brilliant?"
"You've been practicing?"
Lovino frowned. What the fuck was he supposed to say to that? The longer the sword was in his hand the less he felt—well, the less he felt. He clenched his jaw. The mirrors always brought on waves of thoughts and hopelessness, but this didn't seem to be playing that game. He wasn't sure if the push back was relief or anxiety. He let the weapon drop. "The mirrors, what do they do?"
"They reflect on the person that they're summoned against."
"But is there any foundation to what is seen. What—Is it right?"
"Foundation, yes, but I'm not positive I understand what you mean by it being right."
"I—I beat Khorne with it. How? What did he see?"
"He would see the worst of himself. Neverborns are so one-minded that when they're pitted against one another, it would make sense that it would be a battle of strength. However, despair and ambition are different. They play on the mind. Anger was forced to reflect on himself. The worst of himself. What that means in terms of Khorne would likely be the feeling of being powerless—in comparison to what he was outside of the Neverworld."
"But—But it's not real?"
"It is. Every fear has grounding somewhere. Khorne has lost his power."
And Lovino couldn't control his own. "Does the image ever change? Is it possible to fix it? To—To—"
"I don't know."
There was a long pause between them. Lovino stared at the ground, his thoughts rearing and circling and dipping and trying to figure something out. Anything out! What if he could never control himself? What if he became the monster in the mirror?
"Are you ready to continue or would you like to take a break?"
Lovino snapped his head up. Arthur's features were set with a deep frown and curious gaze. Lovino glared back at it. "As if I'm going to let you run off again. I don't have a century to waste."
Their work with the mirrors was taking much longer than anything else. Slightly on the basis that there were two weapons to play with, but mostly because Lovino couldn't get through the round of either of them without the mental exhaustion neither anger nor life had presented him with. Arthur walked him through how to summon the weapons without playing on his emotions, but the two of them quickly discovered that this was nothing like the other two. Always, to some capacity, the two weapons attached themselves to Lovino's conscious and mind. Draining or filling, it didn't matter, because the both of them were devastating.
It seemed that whatever was happening with these two wasn't an emotion at all. Lovino hadn't gone into this sad and didn't come out sad. He came out suffocated, his skull devoured by active mind games and questions and self-deprecating realities. It was messy and gross and it seemed the stronger his movements came the slower his heart wanted to beat.
"Take a break." Arthur said.
"No, it's fine, I can do this," Lovino demanded. He needed to learn how to control his powers.
"You—"
"No! I can do this." His head told him he couldn't. Told him to calm down and to just follow orders because he was being a child by refusing. By lashing out. He summoned another plate, another silver surface, another monster. "I can do this."
By the time they were through Lovino found himself on his knees, eyes closed, fingers in the dirt. Arthur was silent as he meditated, slow breaths and warring thoughts. He did it, and he stuck to that resolution until, small and forced, but never so apparent, he was able to smile.
"Seriously, did you guys do fucking gymnastics when you were younger?" Lovino demanded. Gilbert and Ludwig were taking him through some sort of warm-up stretch as they waited for Arthur.
"No, but Luddy did take ballet."
"No I didn't."
"Tutu and everything?" Feliciano teased.
"I didn't take ballet! Gilbert!"
The albino just sniggered. "Don't get all worked up, they're going to think I'm telling the truth."
"You know, now that you mention it, I can definitely see the dancer's frame," Feliciano commented with a scrupulous stare, a thumb pressing against his cheek. "Yes, yes, I see it for sure."
Ludwig groaned, rising and crossing his arms as he sent Feliciano a humorless stare. Feliciano held it, a teasing smile on his lips.
Gilbert cleared his throat. "Get a room."
"Gilbert!"
"Ludwig!"
Where was Arthur?
"So, we get an audience for this one?"
Arthur nodded. "Before you were just learning how to concentrate. This is going to be an exercise based on concentrating with distraction."
"Are you going to take off your ridiculous outfit?"
The lot of them stood outside the base. Lovino knew that countless workers inside could see him, but he felt pretty distanced from the facelessness of the one-way windows. The sidelines, however, held the other three. They felt a lot more real—especially since Feliciano and Gilbert were encaged in a loud conversation about—what the fuck were they talking about. Fucking Chinese food? What? However, Arthur motioned for them to quiet down . Lovino took a deep breath as Arthur got into position.
"Now, I'm not going to go easy on you."
Lovino quirked a brow. "I would hope not."
"Tell me when you're ready. I want the first weapon for you to draw to be the one of anger, and I want you to hold it as long as you can without actually getting angry. Tell me when you're ready."
Lovino nodded. With little flaw he closed his eyes and went through the familiar sensation. Glorified stick in hand, he exhaled and opened his eyes.
"Whoo! Go Lovi!" Feliciano hollered.
Lovino rolled his eyes. Great, he gained a fucking cheerleader. And, of course, the whooping was only continued by Gilbert. Fuckers.
Quickly he recollected himself and nodded, bending at his knees, focusing, ready to bound this way or that, attack or defend. Anger focused him. "I'm ready."
"Brilliant." The smirk in the British man's voice was dark, bemused. Lovino was taken slightly aback, expecting him to come forward with a hidden blade, but instead he threw out his hands, never breaking eye contact with Lovino. The sleeves of his coat filled with air, exposing the skin of the British man's wrist—as if to tease, saying nothing here—before a zapping, brilliant blue light fused around each of the blond's palms. He clapped his hands together, and when he pulled them apart he seemed to string out a long sword, as if his palm were a sheath. The tip bubble and popped, and the British man took it through the air with surprising speed.
Gilbert whistled. "Still haven't lost that flare, have ya, Artie?"
Fuck. This wasn't going to be as easy as Lovino had thought it was going to be.
Not only that, but Arthur was a whole lot fucking faster than he looked.
Lovino grunted, his heels digging into the dirt as their weapons clashed for the first time, red hot sparks breaking between the black and blue energies. With both hands on the hilt Lovino was able to push him back, far enough to regain his stance and throw an attack of his own.
Arthur easily blocked, sliding his blade down as he stepped aside, scraping Lovino's knuckles. Lovino cried out, opening his hand. The weapon was gone before it even hit the ground.
"Don't let your guard down," Arthur demanded, his blade hovering inches from Lovino's throat. He stepped back. "Recall your weapon."
Lovino swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, but did so without question. His hand hurt, but he knew he could draw from it later. The pain was a comfort.
This time he took the first swing. It was high, and Arthur took advantage of his by blocking overhead as he brought his foot up, slamming it into Lovino's stomach. Lovino stammered backwards, gagging.
"This isn't only a battle of weapons. Don't allow unnecessary openings."
Arthur swung down, but Lovino was fast enough to block it, despite still kneeling over the pain in his gut. He slashed the offending object away.
His muscles were getting tense. His focus still caught everything, but he was growing bolder in his thoughts. The energy to his sword was getting bolder, as well, though he wasn't sure it was in a good way. He tore forward, catching Arthur's weapon with a powerful strike, bringing it back and reapplying the blow. Again and again, attempts to weaken and flatten. The sparks lit the blond's face orange, emerald eyes becoming brown. "Control your anger, Lovino!" Arthur shouted. Lovino's breaths were becoming panted. The two separated. Before Lovino could reem forward, Arthur threw out his arm. His sword snapped, elongating, becoming something of a whip.
Lovino blocked it with his sword, but the blue energy wrapped around it, tearing it from his hand. With a yell Lovino called forth another. He wasn't fast enough, the whip caught him across his chest. Lovino screamed, stepping back, away from the burning force.
The whip wrapped and flowed around Arthur, falling from his hand to circulate like a whirlpool. Another sword was in Lovino's hand. Multiple whips came out to attack as Lovino attacked. He slashed at them, his hilt firm in both hands.
Arthur blocked with his forearm, unable to conjure the energy to block for him in enough time. The heat of the swirling magic intensified, popping purple and hitting Lovino in the back. He fell with a cry.
The dirt below his hand formed, the pain stretching and intensifying across and under his skin. In his left hand he focused on forming a shield, his focus secured on keeping his sword.
He turned just in time to catch Arthur's next attack with his shield.
Arthur reassessed Lovino and his weapons. With a smirk he paused, straightened, and put out his hands, palms down. Lovino made his way to his feet, panting and drained. The pain was something he could deal with. He could. He would. He shielded his body as Arthur's hands were once again surrounded by energy, this time swirling colors rather than blue. Like before he brought them together, but instead of pulling out a sword it seemed to be a small blade, and the hand he drew it from didn't loose the color.
Before Lovino knew what was happening, said knife was flying past his ear. Followed by another and another. Lovino his behind his shield with a grunt. They hit and bounced off. Again and again, like pounding rain.
Until, suddenly, the blond was at his side, swiping his arm across his body and bringing it forward with a whip. Lovino cried as it beat across his back. Dropping his shield, he swung his sword desperately. Arthur fell out of the way, another whip taking advantage of the fallen security.
He was everywhere!
Lovino backed up with quick steps, dropping the glorified sword and replacing it with the double edge just in time to catch the next attack. The lightning fizzled, surrounding it before putting out.
Arthur jumped back, visibly tired, but nowhere near as warn out as Lovino.
He wanted to fall and take a break, but with a heavy chest and shaking limbs he expanded on anything that he could feel.
"Good!" Arthur shouted to him, the whirlpool around him never ceasing. It almost seemed to grow, as if over time it was charging, becoming more and more powerful. Could Lovino find a way to dispel someone else's magic?
Lovino ticked a pained smile at him. "You could have warned me that you were fucking magic."
Arthur just chuckled, moving to throw yet another attack. Whips, one after the other, beat forward. Lovino grit his teeth, closing his eyes and putting his head down as the power fell against his raised sword, snapping his limbs before disappearing only to be replaced by another. Lovino could feel tears spring to his eyes, his chest becoming a void the more power he put into his cracking weapon. He needed another shield, but he was surrounded!
He slashed at the air, cutting off the newest school of lightning tails. A deafening crack sounded, followed by the shattering of his sword. He drew on the ailments of his body, drawing them so powerful that he found himself taking a knee, his hands in the dirt. He needed a shield!
Only, instead of forming in his palm, the energy he focused on created a radius around him, forming upward and creating a dome. The grass around him withered and died, his heart slowed with deafening thuds.
He couldn't see out of his creations, but he could feel everything that happened to it. Sizzling and repetitive were the attacks. They stopped for a moment, and Lovino gasped into the ground. He needed a weapon. He needed—
A great power wrapped around the dome. Lovino screamed as it burned, a great pressure getting heavier and heavier. All he could do was ball his fists around tuffs of dead grass as his shield shattered around him.
He looked up to see Arthur. Whirlpool and intimidating eyes. Weakly he stumbled to his feet. Glorified stick, it seemed all he had the energy to call.
Three steps was all he had in him before he collapsed.
The popping energy in the air dissipated, leaving it light. Lovino wasn't done yet! He still had his sword. Sure, he couldn't move, but he could fight. He wasn't going to lose another fucking battle!
Only, when he tried to lift himself up from the dirt a sharp pain seemed to shatter through him. He couldn't move, and the hilt in his hand seemed to only pulse with the anger of the fact.
"Fuck," he whined into the ground, opening his palm and letting the sword disappear.
"Great job." Arthur said above him.
"Yeah fucking right."
"I can't understand you when you're face down in the dirt."
Lovino just groaned.
Talking suddenly surrounded him as the three from the sides made their way over.
"I thought you said you weren't going to go easy on him, Art."
"Lovino, that was so cool!"
"Feliciano don't touch—"
"Bastard can't you see I'm hurt!"
"Sorry!—Hey are you crying!"
"You're only bleeding in twenty places, does that really justify tears?"
"Shut up! The lot of—Ugh, I hate you all."
"I didn't say anything."
"And yet I hate you the most."
"Be nice to Ludwig."
AUTHOR'S NOTES
Fuck. I gotta get to work.
COMMENT! Yay, Lovi is finally getting somewhere!
