SWORDTALE
Chapter 1: Welcome to the Underground, my Child.
My eyes snap open wide, awoken from my slumber, and I gaze in awe at the full midday sun looming overhead. I am directly gazing at it, and in spite of the fact that the sun has never looked so bright and beautiful to my sight before, its light does not burn me as the memory of this image is instantly seared into my recollection.
That instant appears to last an eternity in my mind.
Then the moment passes, and I gasp in pain and discomfort as soul searing agony surges throughout my body.
"Uh, gah…!"
My eyes slam shut, the image of the sun replaced by the darkness of my eyelids as I trash on the ground in what felt like a bed of flowers. My Magic Circuits, all of them, blaze with power – pure, unadulterated power in quantity and quality my body should never have been able to produce without killing me outright - as energy surges through the channels of power and into my body. Said body burned as thirty-five Magic Circuits burn, producing enough heat to boil my blood.
And beside the burning sensation of my Circuits, I can feel my eyes ache as if someone was forcing two spinning drills into them, my brain pound as if someone was using a jackhammer on the inside, a weariness seep through my body and into my bones as something basic yet fundamental inside of me shifts, breaks, and reforms.
It feels like I am being burned both from within and without, a sensation that is hauntingly familiar.
I do not know for how long I trashed on the ground, Prana surging through my Magic Circuits in such amounts that I should have been dead a thousand times over, and I realize with a thought that is simultaneously distant and yet clear that I should be dead before my Circuits snap close and magical energy stops rampaging through my body.
I lay there for a short while, comforting sunlight bathing my body, gasping for breath as the pain that has been my constant companion for who knows how many minutes – hours, days, weeks? – slowly, torturously ebbs away to be replaced by a blessedly dull ache I can ignore.
Slowly, I get up in a sitting position, my eyes opening as I watch my surroundings, on alert for any kind of threats.
As I had faintly recognized when I had been writhing on the floor, I had been laying down on a bed of flowers. Said flowers have golden petals and are of a kind I had never seen before. The flowers nearest to me, those I had been laying on and those in my direct vicinity, had been burned to a crisp, showing a human shaped imprint in the bed of flowers. There were even long, shallow gashes of flower ashes in wide circles around me where the Prana had surged out of and around my body.
I realize instantly that in spite of the sunlight bathing my recovering form that I am not outside. Sheer walls of solid rock surround me in a rough circle, reaching for the sky in a concave shape, the walls inching closer and closer together the farther they stretch upwards. Only a small circular hole at the very top of the apparent cave that I am in allows the warm sunlight to stream in. Surrounding me decrepit, archaic pillars fill the rather large space, ivy winding its way up their old forms in spindly patterns.
These pillars, which somewhat remind me of Greek architecture yet different all the same, are in various states of disrepair. About half a dozen are being eaten away at by age. What had once been pristine surfaces having been dulled, darkened and chipped by the elements, but they are still standing strong in the defiance of the passage of time. Others had broken, their top halves having collapsed at some point with their bottom halves still rooted to the ground like the bifurcated trunk of a tree. There are even pillars that have fallen down entirely, their forms laying in chunks on the ground. Dust is thick in the air, the sunlight reflecting off of it and painting it golden.
Seeing that no one else but myself is around and that I am safe, I turn by attention to my own body, only to be puzzled at what I found.
With the amount of Prana my Circuits had been channeling just moments ago, I should have by all rights self-combusted. There should at least be some internal hemorrhaging from the sheer heat produced, but as far as I can tell my body is fine, with only some weariness and a swiftly receding throb of pain to attest to what had just happened.
Even more surprising is the fact that my Circuits hadn't been damaged. They were closed now, so no energy is currently flowing through them, and I am somewhat hesitant to open them again after what had just transpired, but I could feel that they are in pristine condition.
The sheer volume of energy that had been raging through said channels of magical energy was far beyond me – I knew this instinctively to be true. By that logic, coupled with the rule that magic beyond the caster's ability could very well end up crippling them, if not kill them, my Circuits should have at the very least received some damage.
But they haven't. As far as I can tell, both my body and my Circuits are perfectly fine.
Confused but relieved, I was about to do a more in depth scan on my body and Circuits, only to pause as I see something that confounds me.
"What… the hell."
My awed whisper slices through the almost oppressive stillness of the cave that I find myself in.
Slowly, disbelievingly, my hands, which I only now notice are covered by a set of bare, black leather gloves, come up to cup a red sphere of pure energy swirling a few inches in front of my chest. It is about the size of a softball, and even though the energy inside of it is swirling in incomprehensible patterns, the size, shape and volume of the sphere remained constant, even as immense, unfathomable energy rages inside of it.
The moment my fingers touch the red sphere I feel a pleasant warmth settle inside of me and a brief jolt run through me as my Circuits snap open, producing a tiny trickle of Od of such quality – though, thankfully not anywhere near as much as just now – that I, a first generation Magus, should never have been able to produce.
I can feel my eyes burning for a brief instant before my vision shifts in some incomprehensible way, though I barely pay attention to it.
Instead, all my attention is focused on the crimson sphere of pure power in front of me. No, it is not just pure power. There is much more then mere power. There is a story there, too. My story. The story of Emiya Shirou - or to be precise, the culmination of my being.
In this sphere somehow, someway, I can see everything that I currently am. My most distinctive traits that make up the whole of my being, determination chief among them, that which defines me as a person are laid out in front of me to observe without obstruction.
I see pure Steel hidden away deep inside of it.
And with dawning comprehension, I realize what I am looking at.
"My SOUL... this is my SOUL," I whisper, though not in disbelieve, because I somehow know this to be true.
How is this possible? The SOUL is the second element and is independent of the body, not belonging to the same material world. The SOUL acts as a record of the body containing the memories, mind, and Magic Circuits, one that in the strictest sense of the term does not exist in the lower planes of reality. Nothing mundane can affect a SOUL in any meaningful way. Even precious few Magecrafts are capable of such a feat. To even gaze at a SOUL one needed highly specialized equipment.
But now, in some way that I cannot understand, I can see my own SOUL as clear as day.
And as I look at it, facts about myself start appearing in my mind. My name is Emiya Shirou and I am ten years old. I was born and raised in Fuyuki, though I haven't been there for quite some time, and I have already been training for years to become a powerful Magus in order to fulfil my dream of becoming a Hero of Justice.
All because I... all because I...
I suck in a deep breath as I realize that I do not remember.
Deep down, I know that I want to be a Hero of Justice, but the reasons and motivations behind those emotions are missing entirely from my recollection. Try as I might, I cannot recall what send me down the path of Magecraft and heroism in the first place. And with dawning fear and horror I realize that I am missing much more then just that.
Entire years are missing from my recollection. Except for some general and basic things about myself, some basic spells and general knowledge known to most Magi, I remember almost nothing of my past and who I am, which scares me enough to feel as if the cold hand of death has taken hold of my heart and is squeezing it in its fist. Said heart is beating wildly and I break out in a cold sweat, while my SOUL in front of me that I am still cupping in my hands gives a painful looking throb, reacting to my distress and fear.
I also can't remember how I ended up here, wherever here even is. Strangely, or maybe not so strangely, that scares me even more.
And at the same time, something else equally confuses and unsettles me as my Circuits continue to produce a tiny, but an extremely high quality of Od.
Power.
That's the first thought that comes to my mind as I mentally touch upon my Circuits. Pure, unadulterated power. Though the amount of Od, or Inner Energy, that is currently flowing through my Circuits is small, little more then a trickle, the energy produced is of such quality and concentration that I could enact multiple high level Mysteries with it. And if what I am currently feeling is correct, my Circuits aren't anywhere close to producing to their maximum output. Not even a thousandth from what I can tell.
I swallow as the sensation flows over me. Even with my memories as messed up as they are right now, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that my reserves and the quality of my Circuits shouldn't come anywhere close to what I am feeling now.
I am hesitant to admit it to myself, but all these factors combined has sent my mental state far past scared and firmly into terrified.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I take a deep breath, and I with all the focus required in order to be able to use even the tiniest sliver of Magecraft, I take hold of my emotions and will my fear away. Now isn't the time to be scared. Now is the time to assess my situation and my options with a calm and focused mind.
Immediately, my breathing slows down and a calm surety settles over my mind. My heart has stopped beating a tattoo against my skin, and is now beating a calm and almost soothing rhythem.
I briefly think to myself that it is odd that I, a ten year old - Magus or not - am able to control my emotions so effortlessly, but I don't dwell on it. I have much bigger things to worry about.
Like figuring out what exactly I do and don't remember.
I search my mind.
Okay, to summarize. I know my name, age, and identity. I also know that I am a first generation Magus, what that entails, and that I have been training for years, but not for how long exactly, and - this makes me grimace - what I have been taught and by who.
My grimace grows stormy at the realization that while I remember that I am a Magus, important information about me as a person and my Thaumaturgy are missing from my recollection. For example, what my Element and Origin are. Those two things are kind of essential for anyone who fancies themselves a Magus.
I also can't remember my family - or the fact if I even have a family in the first place - and the motivations behind my dream and ideals.
It's odd that I have this all overpowering need to see my dream fulfilled, even now that I can no longer remember why I have this dream in the first place. I guess that's just one thing that makes Emiya Shirou Emiya Shirou; an intrinsic part of me that can never truly be erased, missing memories or no.
Opening my eyes again, I sigh and take a single hand off my SOUL and wrack it through my bright red hair. I gaze at my SOUL, and briefly feel lost, not exactly sure what I should do now.
Well, first thing I should do is make sure that my body and Circuits are indeed fine. Just moments ago I only did cursory examination before I was distracted by the fact that I can somehow see my SOUL with my naked eyes, that my Circuits are far more powerful then they should be and by the fact that I am missing years worth of memories.
Swallowing heavily, I take my eyes of my SOUL and release my hold on it, my covered hands drifting to the plain, cross-shaped burned leather strap of my cloak in order to take it off, only to pause in confusion.
I hadn't noticed it up till now, but every single thing around me now has one extra feature that it originally didn't have when I first scanned this chamber.
Everything - and I do mean everything - now has a singular white dot in their center; from the pillars surrounding me to the golden flowers around me, except for those that have been burned to a cinder. Even the soil and the rock walls around me have white dots in them, spread out in an even spread in an odd, geometric pattern.
I also notice that the world around me is much more... defined is the only word that I can come up with to accurately describe it. Everything just seems more REAL, as if the world had been missing some color, or outline, and it was suddenly fixed. I have always had good eyesight, better then most people at least, but now my vision is so defined and sharp that I can almost make out and count every separate little bump on the stems of the golden flowers surrounding me.
I blink and my eyes burn for a second time as the small trickle of Od that has been leaking out from my Circuits ever since I laid my hands on my SOUL stops flowing, all my Circuits closing in unison. Once again, my vision shifts in a way I cannot describe, and the white dots in the center of every object gradually fade before disappearing entirely.
My new clarity of perception of the world also gradually fades, regressing back to the level it has always been; sharp, but not inhumanly so.
My SOUL, however, remains visible.
What was that? What the hell is wrong with my eyes?
I shake my head and take a deep breath. Something else I need to check then, but first I need to make sure that I am physically fine before I do anything else.
Reaching up with my glove covered hands, I unclasp the brown cross-shaped strap keeping on the cloak that I am wearing. With ease that belies experience I shrug of the tan-colored cloak and pull my arms out of its sleeves. With the rustling sound of fabrics I pull said cloak of my body before neatly folding it and laying it down on the flowers beside me.
I briefly inspect the cloak. It is a rather simple thing in truth: the entire cloak has a uniform tan coloration, the attached hood is free of any decoration, and it is big enough to envelop my entire body when worn. I am sure that the somewhat tattered looking edges of the cloak would hang low enough to almost scrape over the floor when I walk.
And I don't know why, but for some reason I feel very fond of this rather plain looking cloak. I was somewhat hesitant to even take it off my person. Odd.
Next I reach for my T-shirt, which is equally plain; the short-sleeved T-shirt is entirely black except for the two thin, grey stripes at chest height. It matches perfectly with the black-colored jeans and sneakers that I am also wearing.
Again, I find myself pausing as my eyes catch sight of something that I do not remember anything about: a pendant hanging from my neck on a simple silver chain.
One of my hands grasps it and brings it up to eye level. The pendant is shaped in the form of a kite and is made out of black painted oaken wood. On both sides of the pendant's highest point a tin strip of silver metal travels from top to bottom, while another strip of the silver metal travels from the widest point to the other side horizontally, creating a silver cross on its front and back. A golden hinge on the right side keeps it locked shut.
I try to open it, but the golden hinge keeping the pendant shut stubbornly remains in place. I am certain that I can break it open if I tried hard enough, but the mere thought is enough to make me recoil; obviously, I have a clear attachment to this pendant, the reason of which escapes me.
Growling in frustration, I yank off the pendant and lay it down on the cloak. My T-shirt soon follows, neatly folded, exposing my bare chest to the world.
I decided not to remove the gloves from my hands. They wouldn't get in the way from what I am about to do.
I absently note that my skin is rather tan, as if I have spent the majority of my time the last few years outside, and that I am rather lean for a ten year old with barely any fat on my body. Admittedly, I barely pay attention to that as I take note of the small Magic Crest grafted to my chest.
My fingers absently trace the foreign lines fastened to my chest in the form of a simplistic magic circle, which is now slowly fading away from sight now that the inherited Magic Circuits are no longer actively in use. The inside of the circle, the spot where my SOUL is floating directly in front of, is entirely empty, and the Magic Circuits that came from another person spiral in tightly packed lines around that empty spot on my chest, forming my Magic Crest.
I frowned at it. Although I had no idea how I came to have this, I know exactly what this is and what it represents.
At its most fundamental, a Magic Crest is the crystallization of a line of Magi's research and personal family Craft. All the spells said family have either been able to obtain and/or create via their research are stored inside of the Crest, having been engraved into the previous holder's Circuits through some method I am not entirely aware of, with said Circuits having been given a more stable form so that they could be transferred to another Magus, similar to an organ transplant. Once transferred these Circuits act as a secondary source of power for the current holder. Another plus is that the possessor of said Crest doesn't need to understand the spells stored inside in order to be able to use them, merely needing to run their Od through the transferred Circuits and select a spell that has been stored inside and activate it, allowing the holder to bypass the incantations and rituals usually needed for said spells. As each successive generations heir of a lineage of Magi works on storing more Circuits, knowledge and spells into the repository of the Magic Crest, the greater the amount of spells, knowledge and power said lineage of Magi can boast about.
All told, I counted eight foreign Circuits fastened to my chest, supplementing the twenty-seven I was originally born with, which I knew was rather pathetic as far as Magic Crests went. Families that can trace their line back for over ten generations or more usually had Crests that are made up of more then a hundred Circuits. The amount of power and the sheer number of spells stored in a such a Crest, having been forged through a dozen generations of research and hard work, would be mindboggling. It is also a fact that the bigger a Crest was, the more stable it is and the easier it became to activate the spells stored inside. The small Crest I had was a pittance compared to that.
Which was not to say that it wasn't useful, though. If the Circuits making up this small Crest are of the same quality of my inborn ones than it would increase my reserves by almost a third, and depending on the spells stored inside my combat ability may be far greater with it then without.
Of course, the fact that I do not remember what said spells are kind of negated that. And since haphazardly experimenting with any kind of magic was practically a guaranteed death sentence, I wasn't very keen on the idea of simply running my Od through the transplanted Circuits, select a spell and see what happens.
Similarly, I am also confused how I came to have a Crest in the first place. I know that I am a first generation Magus - wasn't I? - a person with no prior familial history in the magic arts to give me a head start and to further build on. Transplanting a Crest is very similar to transplanting an organ, though considerably more hazardous. Without a direct and close blood relation between the one giving it and the one receiving it the transplantation of a Crest - an inherently dangerous procedure on its own - is as far as I know impossible. Trying it would inevitably result in the death of the recipient and the utter and complete destruction of the Crest in question.
And yet I, who has no one from which I could inherit anything Thaumaturgy related from, has a Crest - small though it may be - to call my own.
Now I am even starting to question the things I do seem to remember. Am I first generation Magus or the heir of a lineage of Magi? If that was the case then why is my Crest so pathetically small? Perhaps I am just the second or maybe even the third heir of my family and I do have a small lineage to further build my Craft on.
"Ugh," I groan. All this thinking is giving me a headache. Damn these spotty memories.
I shake my head in an effort to dislodge these frustrating thoughts. Focus, Shirou. First I got to make sure that I am fine before I do anything else.
Thankfully, I have the perfect spell for that. One that is so fundamental to me as a Magus that I could never forget it.
My right hand rises up and presses palm first against my chest just underneath my Crest. In my mind's eye the hammer of a gun is cocked back as I prepare myself to use the most basic and yet most important Thaumaturgy in my repertoire, the spell in which all my abilities as a Magus find their roots and that which is essential for the operation of my personal Craft. Without this spell, all the other Mysteries in my arsenal that I can remember right now would be unusable and worthless.
In the privacy of my own mind, I thanked my lucky stars that I haven't forgotten the fundamentals of being a Magus and the basis of my personal Craft.
And as the hammer of the gun slams home, a single Magic Circuit of mine snaps open to produce the tiny amount of Od necessary for the spell to function.
"Trace, On," I mutter underneath my breath as I close my eyes. "Structural Analysis."
Even with my memories as messed up as they are right now, this basic spell is so ingrained into me that even if I were to have lost the knowledge of it together with said memories, I am certain that I would still have been able to perform it on sheer reflex.
Structural Analysis is as basic as one could get with Magecraft. With its use a Magus can Grasp the inner structure and layout of any object that he or she targets as if they are viewing a blueprint of said object in their own mind. Most Magi used it strictly for that, but I have mastered this basic Mystery to the point that my personal version of it goes beyond the mere physical components of whatever I am targeting, but it also allows me to Grasp and understand an objects spiritual, magical, and even historical aspects to a certain extent.
And this is what I am using on my own body right now with a brief exertion of mental will and a bit of my Internal Energy.
A blueprint of all the mayor bodily systems appears in my mind. From the circulatory system, the muscular system, the nervous system, the respiratory system, my skeletal structure, more and the even the flaws in body are shown to me in great detail; in the blink of eye everything about my body's current state is revealed to me.
It was to bad that I can't Grasp any accumulated history from living beings. That would have solved the issue of my missing memories handily.
Before I can even start processing the information flowing into my brain my mind immediately notices something foreign in my body that should not be there. As I focus on it, my mind manages to pull up a hazy image of the object that is apparently conceptualized inside of me.
A blurred object, something made from gold and cobalt. Glorious light radiates from it, and as I gaze upon it I feel warmth settle over me, similar to when I took my SOUL in my own hands. And even though I have no idea what it is, this objects mere presence inside of me is somehow comforting to me.
I gaze upon it for some time before I reluctantly pull my mind away from it. Whatever this object is, I can't do anything about it right now. It is conceptualized inside of me and I have no clue how to go about removing it from my person. I couldn't even get a good reading on it with my Structural Analysis because conceptualized as it currently is my spell can't accurately latch onto it. Thankfully, whatever it is, its presence didn't appear to be harmful to me, so I felt comfortable leaving the object where it is for now.
I turn the focus of my spell back to my actual body. My mind rapidly shifts through the information that flows like water into my psyche.
Circulatory system is fine. My muscles are somewhat tired but overall healthy. Ditto for my skeletal, nervous, and respiratory systems as well. I sigh in heartfelt relieve as I realize that there is physically at least absolutely nothing wrong with me.
Now for the hard bit. Frowning, I concentrate the magic spell of Structural Analysis on both my natural Circuits and Crest.
My frown deepens.
I had noted earlier that my Circuits are far more powerful then I remember them being, their quality and output having soared far beyond what should be possible for me. My Mystery merely confirms that observation beyond a shadow of a doubt; if what my Structural Analysis has revealed to me is correct then the quality and output of my Circuits has increased more then a thousand fold compared to what it once was.
My Inner Energy, or life force, better known as Od, could once have been likened to a small stream of water. It had been small and finite, easy to access and harness, but also just as easily exhausted. Now it is more similar to the depths of the ocean, a fast reservoir of energy that I can tap into at my leisure without worries of exhausting myself for long, long time. And there was also the added benefit that instead of regular, old water my Od was now analogous to extremely high quality and pure spring water. A single sip of which would be enough to hydrate a man lost in the desert, or in the case of Thaumaturgy, fuel several Mysteries at once without issue.
And although I'll admit that this sudden and massive increase in my power has me elated - having ready access to such high quality Od would do wonders for the development of my Thaumaturgy - it also has me concerned because of one exceedingly simple but underlying rule related to the miracle arts: Equivalent Exchange.
One could never gain more then what is given; that is an ironclad rule that is unbreakable to all forms of Thaumaturgy. What could I or somebody else have given in return in order to achieve such an unheard of result? By all accounts, a Mystery or ritual that could accomplish this should come along with an equally heavy price.
The second thing that I note is the differences between my inborn Circuits and my Crest.
Or the apparent lack thereof.
Output, quality, and composition. Despite the fact that both sets of Circuits came from different people, all these factors match perfectly. The only difference that I can perceive is that the Od that my Crest produces is different in some way that I cannot describe. The best analogy that I can think of is that the 'taste' between the two differing Ods is highly distinct from each other. And that is only because they come from two entirely different sources.
By all means there should be unmistakable differences between my inborn Circuits and my Crest. Having come from two different people the differences between the two should be stark. But as far as I can tell the only things that sets them apart is the 'taste' of the Od produced and the chance that my Crest might have spells stored inside.
"Ugh," I groan for a second time. Another mystery to throw onto the pile.
Mentally throwing the conundrum to the side, I once more delve into the information on my body that my spell is funneling into my brain, focusing on my eyes.
Again, what I find confuses and worries me.
A cursory Grasp confirms that my eyes are fine. There's nothing wrong with them as far as I can tell and me eyesight is 20:20. It's when I delve deeper that another mystery presents itself.
God, I really hope this is the last surprise. I am not sure if I could handle any more shocking revelations right now.
The inner structure of my eyes is completely mundane with nothing out of the ordinary. It's what around my eyes that has me worried. The Circuits in that area around my eyes are positioned rather bizarrely, with two Circuits finding their way directly inside either of my eyeballs where they connect to the optic nerves and pupil.
The thought of eyes and Circuits combined does ring a bell, but for the life of me I do not remember what it could mean.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. Obviously, that knowledge is lost together with my memories.
I sigh loudly to myself and cut of my spell, the single Circuit I had active snapping shut. It's no use to worry about all that right now. Now that I know that I'm physically fine and that my Circuits are better then they have ever been it is now time to figure out where the hell I am and where I need to go.
I look up into the hole in the cavern's ceiling above me, warm sunlight shining down on me from above. I must have fallen through that hole when I first entered into this cave, but the hole is too high up and the cavern walls around me are to steep and smooth to try and climb my way back out even with the use of my Magecraft.
So that route is a no go. I look down the cavern past the flowerbed I am still sitting on and the pillars surrounding me and spy a relatively wide passageway that leads deeper into the cave. I take a deep breath and then release it. I just had to hope that said passageway leads to somewhere, or I might be in trouble.
I pull my black and grey T-shirt back on and slip the pendant's chain back around my neck. Then I don my cloak, slipping my arms back through the sleeves and tying down the cross-shaped strap to keep it on. Like I had suspected, when worn it completely hides my body from view.
With the hood down only my face, glove covered hands and my sneakers are visible.
A few inches away from the center of my chest my SOUL continues to float placidly. I look at it briefly, still not quite sure what to make of the fact that I can actually see my SOUL like this, but I brush it off. I can figure out later how this is possible; first I need to get to some place that I know is save.
Standing up, I groan as my stiff body protest at the sudden movement. I should have known that would have happened after sitting still for so long.
Rolling my shoulders and clenching and unclenching my muscles in order to quickly force feeling back into them, I take a single step forwards off the flowerbed before hesitating. I am currently in unknown terrain and I have no clue where I am or where I am going, and even though the surrounding structures are in ruins that doesn't mean that there is no else but me here. And those other people might not be friendly. Going on unarmed in such a case would be the height of foolishness.
Looking around, I quickly spot something ideal for my needs. Taking a few steps to my left I reach down and pick up a plain, relatively long wooden stick.
As I turn the stick over in my hands I note its gnarled appearance. While it didn't look like the stick would snap at the faintest application of force, I know that it wouldn't take much for me to break it. Hitting it in just the wrong way would be more then enough to do so.
Thankfully, that is easily fixed for someone like myself.
"Trace, On," I intone, my psyche falling back into the mindset of a Magus.
I once again use the most basic Mystery in my arsenal, and everything about the stick's physical make up to some of its history is downloaded directly into my brain.
The stick I am currently holding in my hands came from a birch tree, having been knocked lose from said tree three weeks and two days ago due to a particularly harsh gust of wind. It's about 1.17 meters long and 1.87 inches thick with a an average circumference of 1.69 centimeters. Overall, the stick is rather solid with decay not yet having set in and there being only small structural weaknesses on the inside and outside, though there is a minor fault near the middle of the stick that is somewhat concerning.
Not for long, though. Now having a complete Grasp on the stick's existence, I immediately set to work altering said existence until it suits my needs.
Blue light dances in the palm of my hands, looking almost like skittering lighting as I take in Mana from the surroundings and transfuse the resulting Prana into the stick. Said piece of wood distorts in my grasp, blue energy enveloping it as I manipulate its mass and material as I please with my Mystery.
The stick elongates as its surface becomes smooth, polished wood in one sleek motion. The faults and breaks inside of it mend themselves at my mental command, unseen for everything but my own mind. The stumps on either end of the stick depress until they are completely and entirely flat.
I hum quietly to myself, pleased as I inspect the over a one and a half meter long staff in my hands. Alteration is such a handy little spell.
Holding the staff out in front of me with my left hand I expertly spin it like a whirlwind with nothing more then the dexterous movements of my fingers. The rapid passing of the altered piece of wood through the still air distorted the image of the world in front of me as the staff blurs and produces an insistent and constant whooshing sound that drowns out every other little noise in the cavern thanks to the incredible velocity it is moving at. Suddenly halting its movement, I firmly grab the staff in both hands to test how sturdy and balanced it is by taking on a combat stance and trying out a few experimental swings, the movement once again producing a loud whooshing noise.
Like I had expected, it is without fault and would serve its purpose well.
Stopping my impromptu kata's, I hold the staff in my left hand at the ready as I start walking. Now that I am armed I feel much better about heading into the unknown, ready to face down anything that I might encounter.
I enter the passageway and wander down the darkened hall, swiftly coming up to a doorway on my left. Briefly studying the archaic looking doorway, I take note of the old but relatively pristine looking slab of marble above it that has a rather odd looking symbol on it.
Painted entirely in white, the rather large mural was simultaneously simple yet deceptively elaborate. Above and center a perfectly spherical circle hovered between two large, stylized wings. Beneath it there are three triangles, with the one in the middle being inverted and placed a little lower then the other two.
I look at it for some time. Though I have never seen this symbol before - debatable, considering my messed up memories - I can tell that there is meaning, a story behind it. Something important, but since there is no way to figure out what exactly I continue on walking.
Taking another step, I pass through the doorway and cross the threshold.
Into the unknown with nothing more then an altered and enhanced piece of wood, my Thaumaturgy and highly questionable memories to protect myself.
My lips twitch as I almost smile to myself. This nearly sounded like the start of a Hero's Journey, now didn't it?
Interlude: Resurrection.
Why am I alive? Our plan had failed, hadn't it?
My eyes snap open - something that by all logic should never have happened anymore - and I gaze straight up at a pale, gentle light that streams down on me from above from no identifiable source. For a brief moment I am reminded of moonlight, which, I will admit, gives me far more comfort then I had expected it to.
I sit up and look around, and I am startled at what is around me.
Nothing.
That's the first thing that I see. All around me there is nothing more then uniform gray emptiness that seems to stretch out into eternity. An endless, colorless abyss that neither has a beginning nor end and could easily swallow the entire world in its fast desolation.
After a moment, I notice that my first assumption is not entirely correct. The spot that I am currently sitting on seems to be the only place in this strange world to possess any kind of real physical matter to it. Grass, shaded blue by the pale light, tickles my hands from where they are placed on the ground. Said ground, covered entirely by blue shaded grass, spans a relatively small area around me before suddenly going into a decline, sloping downwards as it continues to encroach into the emptiness that pervades this world. The further the Hill reaches into the void the more it loses cohesion and the less distinct it becomes, gradually becoming more and more non-existent and less real, for the lack of better term, until only hollow nothingness remains. This grass covered Hill I am on forms the only identifiable reality in this small world.
But as I look around, I become aware of the fact that there is more then just me, soil and grass in this world.
Swords.
And much, much more.
All around me bladed implements of all stripes are impaled into the ground, their killing edges stabbed into the soil with their handles pointed to the sky. The fast majority of the weapons that I could see are swords of more then a dozen different kinds, but I could also see spears, halberds, daggers, axes, knives and even a scythe or two.
If my eyes aren't deceiving me this otherwise empty world/armory contains hundreds of weapons.
Where am I? Is this Hell? After what I had done to both myself and my brother, I most certainly deserve to be there.
I had to admit, though, that this is not what I had expected Hell to look like. After what I went through at that... village, spending a lifetime of forced solitude and boredom in this odd, almost entirely empty world could be considered a blessing.
I feel confused. Why and how am I here? I should be dead, and if I am is this the afterlife? For a dead kid I feel pretty norma-
No.
That's not entirely true.
Bodily and mentally I feel pretty normal, but emotionally there is something most definitely wrong.
I intellectually know that what I did to my brother and the atrocity that I committed before finding my way into the Underground should damn my SOUL more then a hundred times over. I know full well, though, that I never have and never will feel regret for the latter action, but the act that saw all me all but commit suicide and my brother sacrifice his own life to stop me from completing our plan should fill me with guilt of such magnitude that said emotion should define my entire being for the rest of eternity.
And yet it doesn't. I feel nothing, nothing at all.
Well, that is also not entirely correct. I did feel confused earlier, still am by the way, and I do feel comforted by the light shining down on me that reminds me of moonlight, so I am at least capable of feeling something, but the emotion of guilt just doesn't seem to register at all.
For some reason I think I should feel bad about that, but I don't. How strange.
I stand up and look down at my body, and I feel relieved - heh, another emotion that I can feel - to see that I am back in my own body and that I am once again wearing my trusty old clothes: a lime and cream colored T-shirt, simple brown pants and shoes of almost exactly the same color as my pants.
I take a deep breath, and almost choke as a sensation, an emotion, so thick and strong envelops me that it I am essentially drowning in it
This feeling... this emotion... I know it more intimately then any other.
DETERMINATION.
That what defines me as a person permeates the air around me so thickly that I can feel it brush against my skin. The sensation is so familiar and comforting that it reminds me of a loving parent's hug.
I snort to myself. How could I be so oblivious? How could I not notice such a concentration of the feeling that forms the core of my being, the feeling that is the source of my powers? This world might appear to be an empty void except for this Hill of Swords, but it is in fact utterly filled with DETERMINATION.
And there are other emotions present too. Patience, Bravery, Integrity, Perseverance, Kindness, and Justice. All of these emotions fill this world in such amounts that I cannot miss them, even though they are barely perceivable under the smothering weight of the DETERMINATION that forms the very foundation of this reality.
I don't know how I am doing it exactly, but somehow, someway, I can understand and interpret the emotions and traits that make up this world. I am connected to this world in some manner that I cannot comprehend. And it's this fact that immediately makes it clear to me just how unbalanced this reality truly is.
Before I can finish this train of thought a cold shiver shoots up my spine as a... I wouldn't call it a gust of air; the sensation is entirely different and even the most frosty wind wouldn't be capable of chilling me right to the bone, make my thoughts freeze entirely and make me feel as if a lead weight has just been dropped on my chest.
I look up and take a fearful step back at what I see, eyes widening and a gasp escaping me.
A black hole.
That's the only thing I can liken it too. Above me, hanging far up in the utterly empty 'sky' and some distance away from this world's light source, a dark sphere about the size of a two story house looms silently over the Hill of Swords. No sound or phenomena originates from it, but it still makes me break out into uncontrollable shivers.
I swallow dryly as I continue to back away from it, primordial fear filling my gut as my gaze refuses to turn away from the black hole.
If one could liken the fast emptiness at the edge of this world to an endless abyss, then this... thing could be considered the dark nothingness at the very end of time. The air around the black sphere is utterly still, but a cold and empty sensation emanates from it that somehow transfuses throughout this world. The sparse 'moonlight' that reaches it dims and dies a few meters before reaching it, disappearing as it passes through whatever event horizon this strange black hole has, vanishing into the nothingness.
If the emptiness at the edge of this Hill can swallow a world, then this black hole can surely swallow an entire reality if given even half the chance.
It's because of the fact that I am connected to this world in someway that I do not fully grasp that I know that this dark thing is an alien entity, something that's not supposed to be here. But it is said same connection that also makes it clear that this black hole is nonetheless a part of this reality and equally connected to it like I am.
Frowning at the paradox, I stop backing up as the fear slowly ebbs away. Despite the empty sensation that originates from the black hole the realization that this world and the black hole are connected and that said black hole isn't some truly harmful, invasive force calms me down and banishes my unease.
Taking my eyes off of it, I glance around at my surroundings as I once more wonder what this strangely incomplete world and the strange phenomena, weapons and traits that make it up are and represent. That there is meaning and purpose in this world is abundantly clear but what that is escapes me and-
Looking around, I quickly spot something ideal for my needs. Taking a few steps to my left I reach down and pick up a plain, relatively long wooden stick.
I blink as a sight - or maybe a memory? - flashes before my eyes and interrupts my thoughts. What was that? What just happ-
I once again use the most basic Mystery in my arsenal, and everything about the stick's physical make up to some of its history is downloaded directly into my brain.
Falling on my ass as the sights and thoughts that felt like they are my own but at the same time aren't flash through my mind, I grab my head and desperately try to make sense of what's going on.
Now having a complete Grasp on the stick's existence, I immediately set to work altering said existence until it suits my needs.
What the hell is happening?!
I hum quietly to myself, pleased as I inspect the over two meter long staff in my hands. Alteration is such a handy little spell.
Spell? What spell? Humans aren't capable of magic.
Like I had expected, it is without fault and would serve its purpose well.
Breathing laboriously as the foreign thoughts, sights and emotions invade my mind and gradually replace my own perspective of reality, I fall back into the soft grass and once more look up into the source of the 'moonlight', the last vestiges of my own consciousness rapidly slipping away to be replaced with that of someone else.
I enter the passageway and wander down the darkened hall, swiftly coming up to a doorway on my left. Briefly studying the archaic looking doorway, I take note of the old but relatively pristine looking slab of marble above it that has a rather odd looking symbol on it.
The Delta Rune. The ancient symbol pulls up many memories, most of them good and one exceedingly bad as it is irreversibly tied to the greatest sin of my life. I wonder why it looks so faded and is not being taken care of, but the thought slips away as easily as the others.
Taking another step, I pass through the doorway and cross the threshold.
My thoughts and view of the world meld with that of whoever I am apparently connected to - the name Shirou slides through our joined minds - and I now see what he sees, taste what he tastes, smells what he smells, experience what he experiences and feels what he feels...
Into the unknown with nothing more then an altered and enhanced piece of wood, my Thaumaturgy and highly questionable memories to protect myself.
My lips twitch as I almost smile to myself. This nearly sounded like the start of a Hero's Journey, now didn't it?
My eyes close slowly and unlike Shirou I actually do smile to myself. Yes, it did.
The sounds of my footsteps echo lightly as I step through the dark entrance and come out into another short and narrow passageway with light visible at the end. My steps are sure and swift with grace I did not know I had but nonetheless comes as easy as breathing to me. I hold the staff in my left hand at the ready, all my senses on high alert and mentally having my finger on the hammer of the gun that would open my Circuits on the slightest sign that I need to protect myself with less then mundane means.
A small frown of confusion mars my face as I continue to walk.
I feel that I am being unreasonably paranoid keeping my guard up like this; there is no reason to belief that I am in any danger right this moment. And yet I still took the time to fashion myself a weapon at the earliest opportunity, which I am steadfastly keeping at the ready for a threat that I am fairly certain will not materialize. Yet something inside of me, something almost entirely instinctive, tells me that dropping my guard in any sort of situation, especially now, would be stupidity of the highest order.
One might argue that this would be the logical reaction to suddenly losing one's memories and being dropped into an unfamiliar place, but I feel that there is more to it then that. I am more inclined to believe that this is a taught behavior, not something that was brought on by the highly unusual situation and a couple of whims.
This state of mind, with my eyes peeled even if I can barely see in the darkness of the passageway, my senses focused, holding a weapon steady in my left hand and ready to use my Thaumaturgy on the slightest of triggers is not something that someone, especially a child my age, should be capable of doing as easily as I am right this moment.
A grimace replaces the frown on my face as I continue to walk. What kind of childhood must I have had to become so paranoid by nature? What kind of live could I have lived that I feel such paranoia but no real fear in this kind of situation? I am not sure I want to know the answer.
My thoughts on the subject come to an abrupt halt as I pass through the doorway and emerge back into the light. With an ease that no child my age should have I take in my surroundings, clinically observing everything of note while ignoring those things I deem inconsequential.
Like the cavern I had woken up in the chamber I am now is roughly circular, though it is somewhat hard to tell thanks to the dark shadows clinging stubbornly to the edges of the room. A single beam of lights falls through a crack in the ceiling, illuminating the doorway on the other side of the room, identical to the one I first passed through, archaic pillars and the mural bearing the odd symbol included, and a patch of lush grass in the center of the chamber on which...
I blink and frown, barely holding myself back from rubbing my eyes at what I see. Maybe there is something wrong with my eyes after all.
A single golden flower much like the ones that I had seen in the first chamber is rooted to the ground in the middle of the carpet of verdant grass. Exactly six golden petals surround its white androecium with a wiry, light green stem planted in the soil beneath it. Overall it looked like an ordinary flower in every respect, except for the fact that it has a pair of eyes and a tiny mouth that is currently pulled back into a small, friendly grin as it watches me.
"Howdy!" Was the polite and friendly reply that came from his - its - mouth and I barely manage to keep my disbelieve hidden at seeing a talking flower. I might be a Magus, but this was a whole new level of odd. "I'm Flowey. Flowey the Flower!"
The moment I have processed the flower's words and I had gotten over my brief burst of incredulity I instantly feel extremely weary of this irregular creature. I'm not the kind of person who will judge someone, or any kind of being for that matter, on their appearance alone, even if it is exceedingly strange, but the longer I look at this seemingly benign flower with a face the more I feel ill at ease. The mere sight of this 'Flowey' was enough to raise my hackles. This feeling ran far deeper then simple dislike.
"Hmm..." 'Flowey' made a slow pondering noise as he/it curiously looks me over. "You're new to the Underground, aren'tcha? Golly, you must be so confused. Someone ought to teach you how things work around here!"
My grip on my staff tightens and I tense at the words.
"I guess little old me will have to do," the flower says with that friendly tone of its and winks at me while sticking out its tongue. "Ready? Here we go!"
My right foot takes a step back, taking on a ready stance as small, rotating pellets of magical energy emerge from behind the flower's golden leaves and almost lazily drift up into the air. I counted about half a dozen, and though the energy in each individual pellet is small, it is incredibly concentrated and focused to a razor's edge.
"Down here in the Underground, someone's innate toughness is dependent on how powerful their SOUL is," Flowey explained, lecturing, though still sounding very friendly and open. "Your SOUL starts of weak, but can grow strong if you gain a lot of LV."
I frown. LV? Seeing my bemused expression, Flowey quickly expanded on its explanation. "What's LV stand for? Why, LOVE, of course! You want some LOVE, don't you?"
Before I could tell the obviously bonkers flower that offering a complete stranger love in virtually any kind of context out of the blue was very strange, not to mention utterly disturbing because of a multitude of different reasons, the creature continues on without taking heed of my apprehension.
"Don't worry, I'll share some with you!"
I can see the concentrated pellets of magical energy behind Flowey's back start to spin faster and slowly tilt towards me, as if they are about to be fired right at me.
"Down here, LOVE is shared through..." Flowey continues to talk jovially, even as the pellets began the spin faster and faster. "Little white... 'friendliness pellets'. Are you ready? Move around! Catch as many as you can!"
I briefly wonder how stupid this talking flower thinks I am. As a Magus, I am sensitive to flow and intent of magic. These 'friendliness pellets' - really, couldn't this flower have chosen a less cheesy, more believable, if not better name? - are definitely not friendly in any interpretation of the word and were brought into existence with the clear intent to hurt. And depending on how well made and how focused the magical energy is, could do some serious damage if one was not careful.
Or if one was deliberately trying to do harm.
I was about to call out the flower on its bullshit and make a preemptive strike, but Flowey beat me to the punch.
Without a gesture from Flowey the 'friendliness pellets' suddenly rocket towards me, moving as fast as a small spread of bullets fired from a gun. Instinct taking over, I quickly throw myself to the side, hitting the ground shoulder first, after which I roll in order to absorb the impact of the hasty leap.
I kick myself back on my feet, facing Flowey as I level my staff at the creature that had just attacked me and is... deadpanning at me?
Behind me I can hear the pellets of highly concentrated and focused magical energy make contact with the walls of the chamber, obviously grinding into a maybe even through the solid rock of said walls. Though I didn't take my eyes off of the creature that had just attacked me, the sound was more then enough to clue me in on the fact that being hit by a single one of those pellets would have been very bad.
"Hey buddy, you missed them," my left eyebrow twitches as the flower speaks again, still sounding friendly. It was going to try that painfully obvious trick again? "Let's try again, oka-"
Not allowing Flowey to finish its sentence, I launch myself at flower in the center of the chamber. The staff in my hand rises quickly over my head as I spin it like a baton in one smooth motion, preparing to smash the creature that is trying to kill me into bits.
I could see the flower's eyes widen and yelp escape its lips as I rapidly close the distance.
POP!
And then it suddenly disappears under the ground with a loud pop.
Halting dead in my tracks, I hold my staff at the ready in both of my hands, my senses on high alert for the attack I'm certain is coming.
I turn my head from side to side, my amber eyes scanning every inch of the room, and then I turn around in order to take in the rest of the chamber. I am proven right barely a second later as I hear a popping sound from behind me. I turn around and I am greeted by a wide spread of several dozen 'friendliness pellets' heading straight for me.
They spun towards me, arching in my direction impossibly quickly in order to catch me in a pincer attack.
Hurling myself backwards, I barely evade the attack, the tiny pellets only hitting the soil and rock of the ground I had been standing on, punching through it with similar ease of a pebble breaking the surface of a pond and creating a minor dust cloud of pulverized stone and kicked up dirt.
I gulp loudly.
"He, he," I hear a mocking, alarming chuckle, and I turn to look at Flowey, who looks far more menacing then it did before. "You know what's going on here, don't you?"
The flower's face, or what passes for its face at least, has changed dramatically. Its mouth has stretched impossibly wide in a downright satanic grin, now spanning the entire width of its androecium, while its eyes' sclera's have turned entirely pitch black and the irises are now a sickly looking yellow.
"He, he," Flowey continues to chuckle mockingly, something that sends a chill down my spine. "You know, I had thought that you would be just like all the others. So stupid and trusting, so ignorant of the most basic rule behind this world, that it is sickening to simply interact with them."
"But you, though," the flower continues to talk, its lips pulling apart even wider. "You seem to have an inkling of what that meaning is. The moment you laid eyes on me, you were immediately suspicious, distrusting of someone who honestly appeared to be trying to be helpful, attacking the threat without hesitation."
I wrinkle my nose as I realize that this diabolical flower actually sounded approving.
Evidently, this Flowey is trying to accomplish more with its monologue then just annoy me. A single energy pellet suddenly pops into existence to my left, almost outside my field of vision, and immediately speeds towards me with barely any sound or warning.
I lean my head back, allowing the attack to pass by my nose by a few inches, all the while not taking my eyes away from Flowey.
Far from being perturbed at its failed ploy, Flowey simply cackles, sounding honestly happy at my dodge.
Clearly, this flower has more then a few screws loose, which is honestly a very bad thing. After all, you can never predict what your opponent is thinking or planning on doing if they are crazy.
Not taking any more chances, the hammer of the gun in my mind's eye slams home, and one Magic Circuit snaps open in response, Prana once more flooding the staff that I am carrying.
Earlier I had Grasped and Altered the piece of wood that I am now using as a weapon in order to maximize its potential for combat. But now that I am actually in combat, far quicker then I had expected, it's time for the final step. Once more concentrating on the staff and the information that I have, I start to carefully pour my Prana into it.
The Mystery that I am using now is, similarly to Structural Analysis, incredibly basic and one of my oldest and best skills. Thaumaturgy is at its core the use of magical energy to enhance or alter the existence of something, and the spell that I am using now is the utilization of this concept without any structure or equation upon a preexisting object. In other words, it is a brute force method that uses magical energy without any complicated spell work to achieve the effect of enhancement upon an object.
It's called Reinforcement, and its workings and concept are very simple. By pouring my Prana into every little flaw of an object, proverbial holes if you will, I can enhance its existence and purpose accordingly. With the quick use of my Structural Analysis I have complete knowledge of every single, infinitesimally small flaw inside of the staff, which I am now rapidly filling up with my Prana through which I am taking away every single structural weakness to be found inside of it and greatly enhancing the staff's attributes.
And as I do this, a web of green intertwining lines rapidly stretch out over the surface of the staff from where my hands are holding it, looking almost like circuitry, the only visible representation for the use of Reinforcement upon an inanimate object.
I finish the process just in time. Flowey has stopped cackling, and it is now looking at me with an very unsettling, deranged grin.
It barely took a second before I notice why it is grinning at me like that. All around me those highly focused concentrations of magical energy that this flower creature uses as an attack are popping into existence, quickly filling the air in their dozens, forming an unavoidable sphere of spinning death that surrounds me from all angles.
Oh, crap.
Flowey laughed at my expression, loud and mocking, and then the pellets are fired towards me.
Once again, I quickly use Reinforcement, but now I apply it to my own body and even my clothes. Prana immediately floods my body, filling every single proverbial hole, the empty spaces in between my flesh, bones, and even my skin, enhancing my body and its qualities of strength, durability, stamina, flexibility and speed far beyond what should be possible for my age. On top of that, Prana also surges into my heart, lungs, and my brain, greatly augmenting their performance as well, even as the Prana just as quickly floods my T-shirt, jeans, sneakers and my cloak, making the fabrics tougher and increasing their tensile strength.
Without hesitating, I move, not backwards or to either side of me, but forwards, directly into the path in which the bare second's worth of observation that I had has told me the least amount of energy pellets are headed towards. My feet ghost over the ground impossibly quickly, sliding smoothly across the floor in a show of footwork that safely navigates me past the energy pellets set on robbing me from my life, moving me from spot to spot, all the while ducking, jinking and leaping in order to get past the gauntlet of dozens of swirling pellets that are screaming through the air all around me, dodging with grace and surety I didn't know I had until I was already moving.
Clearly, I am rather quick on my feet when needed.
Even with my Reinforced body, though, there's simply no way for me to dodge every single pellet. Thankfully, I have just the tool in my hands to defend myself with.
I spin the staff like a baton as I move it rapidly around me body, its material harder then wood has any right to be under the effects of my Mystery, easily intercepting the few pellets that I am unable dodge. The energy pellets crack like eggshells as they hammer into my Reinforced staff, protecting me and clearing my path forwards.
Flowey looks up at me with disbelieve as I once more bear down on it. It clearly hadn't expected me to make it past its attack without a scratch. Time seemed to slow down as I close the last bit of distance between us and we lock gazes.
Just seconds before I could bring my staff down it I saw the disbelieve on Flowey's face vanish, to be replaced with what I can only describe as ravenous hunger.
And then it quickly disappears under the ground again with a loud pop.
I skid to a halt, irritated, and only barely hold back a loud groan. This flower is going to be annoying, I could already tell.
Before I can even finish the thought, I am forced to move as I hear another loud pop behind me and I feel a surge of magical energy. Spinning around, my staff comes up to swat away the two closest 'friendliness pellets' that had almost reached me. Then I jump back, creating just a little more distance between me and the veritable column of spinning death that is bearing down on me, and my right foot plants itself firmly in the ground for stability as I hold my staff horizontally in front of me.
Focusing Prana on my left arm and hand, Reinforcing it as far is I safely could, my fingers move incredibly quickly in order to create a spinning shield in front of me. Dozens of the energy pellets uselessly crash against it, shattering against the surface of the Reinforced staff, showering me in little, harmless shards of spent magical energy.
Again, I am forced to abandon my position as quickly as possible as vines suddenly sprout around me feet and try to ensnare me, and I only barely succeed in getting away from their grasp. My inattention, however, costs me as two energy pellets get past my guard and hammer my side with all the force of bullets fired from a gun, knocking the wind out of me and sending me sprawling. I don't get the luxury of checking out my wounded side as I have to immediately throw myself across the floor and roll in order to dodge a follow up spread of energy pellets that pockmarks the ground I am rolling over in my wake and kicks up a screen of dust and dirt.
Coming up from my roll in a crouched, ready position, I once more lock gazes with Flowey, who is looking at me with a satanic grin that shows far too much teeth. Admittedly, though, I am far more worried about the energy pellets that it is filling the air with in their dozens, their numbers having clearly gone past a hundred and still increasing.
I have a bare second to take this all in, to comprehend the fact that I am effectively looking down the barel of more then a hundred loaded guns, that I am about to be at the receiving end of an attack that is literally unavoidable in every sense of the word.
"Die," Flowey says with smooth killing intent, and fires.
Moving on instinct and my own battle awareness, I rapidly pedal backwards in the face of the attack, knowing that if the pellets catch up to me, it's as good as game over.
As my muscles burn at the ridiculous strain I am putting them through, adrenaline floods my body, while my mind is racing to the point that time itself seems to slow down, then halt entirely. All the while my heart is pounding, my brain feels like it's on fire, and I can hear my bones creak under the pressure.
I can feel my eyes burning.
Said eyes widen as my perception of the world suddenly changes. The dots that I had noted earlier are back, even as the world took on the far more defined look it had earlier, once more present in the walls, floor, and ceiling of the chamber in the same geometric pattern as before. The same went for the blades of grass on the ground, the odd rock lying about...
...And even the energy pellets had these dots, infinitesimally small compared to the ones I could see in physical matter, in them. Time had once more begun progressing from my perspective, but Flowey's 'friendliness pellets' were still only approaching me at what appeared to be a snail's pace. Furthermore, as I continue to watch, an odd phenomena occurs. As I continue to watch, an image overlays over every single energy pellet, a perfect double of every pellet that appears to be a second or two in the future in respect to its original, showing me where the pellet is headed mere moments in advance...
It's like watching an after image, only in reverse.
With eyes wide open and Prana surging in my body, I reverse direction and rush headlong into the coming onslaught.
"Hmm," I hear Flowey ponder in amusement, "What are you doing? Are you that eager to rush to your own death? Well, far be it for me to stop you."
I ignore the creature's voice as I meet the storm head on. I leap and twirl, roll and ghost over the floor, and twist and turn as my new perception of the world shows me perfectly where every single energy pellet in my field of vision is headed. This, combined with the fact that said pellets are moving no faster then water dripping down a wall from my perspective, makes it almost absurdly easy to find and exploit the tiny, almost nonexistent gaps in the tempest of energy pellets, and find my way through said gaps.
I can see!
My staff twirls and spins in my hands to smash aside the few energy pellets that I am unable to dodge, then I smash the butt end of it in the ground to vault myself over another set of pellets. Landing, I immediately launch myself to the side, roll over the floor, and kick off straight towards Flowey.
Instead of closing the distance like I had attempted and failed to do before, my slowed down perception of time gives me just enough presence of mind to try something else. My foot kicks up a rock lying near my feet, and I catch it in midair as I twirl my way past another two energy pellets. As I continue my spin, Prana surges into the rock, Altering and Reinforcing it till it suits my desire, and it has taken on the form of crude, but still very, very sharp and enhanced dagger.
The moment I come out of my spin I use the momentum I gained with the movement and all of my Reinforced strength to hurl it straight at the still grinning face of Flowey.
Said flower looked taken aback. My new and enhanced perception of reality allowed me to perfectly see its eyes widen and its body tense in preparation to once again escape under the ground.
It was just a hair too late.
"AGGGH!"
Flowey disappeared beneath the soil again, its downward movement saving it from having its face impaled. Instead, the topmost leaf above the right hand side of its face had been sheared off, and was now floating lazily in the air. The Altered and Reinforced dagger continued on, its enhanced edge stabbing into the wall of the chamber, cratering it.
As Flowey once again disappears underneath the ground, its attack finally ends as it is no longer there to create more and more of its deceptively deadly energy pellets. I breath deeply and wince as I touch my side where two energy pellets had gotten past my guard. The battle so far had been short, but fast paced, and I wonder how much of my stamina I have already used up. Luckily for me, it is a fairly standard trick for a Magus to exchange Prana for stamina, one that could easily be performed in the middle of battle, so I was not scared of running out of stamina any time soon, especially with the massive upgrade to my Circuits.
Surprisingly, I find that the spot where the energy pellets had impacted my cloak earlier hadn't been punctured. As a matter of fact, my cloak is entirely undamaged, not even being scuffed or marred in the slightest. The pain I had felt earlier was merely the force of the impact bleeding through my cloak and my T-shirt, which had been powerful enough to leave some bruises on the skin underneath, but not much else.
Again, I don't get much time to ponder it as I am forced to quickly leap away, the emerging vines at my feet finding themselves grasping at empty air.
"He, he," there was that chuckle again, but this time it is deeper and saturated with far more malice then before.
Flowey emerges from the ground in front of me, chuckling, seemingly unbothered by the fact that one of its leafs had been torn away rather brutally. At least, I believe so until its chuckle slowly raises in volume and pitch, and I take a step back and bare my staff at it, feeling the beginnings of fear slowly crawl up my back.
"Ha, ha! This is so much better!" Flowey crowed in evident exhilaration, its chuckle now a deep laugh as it leaned so far back on its stem until it was looking straight up into the sparse sunlight that shone through the crack in the ceiling. "Ha, ha! This is the best! When is the last time I had such an uplifting feeling? I can't remember. Even fighting Smiley Thrashbag hasn't been this much fun for such a long time! Oh, why didn't I allow this to happen sooner?"
This flower is most definitely insane. No question about that.
"This, this is how battle should be!" Flowey appeared to have calmed down a little, once more looking at me, but the flower's expression could be likened to some mad priest who was in the middle of a sermon to a full room of brainwashed cult members. In other words, it looked completely psychotic and deranged; a dangerous combo.
"You're crazy," I find myself whispering, disturbed by the flower's words.
"Oh?" Flowey grinned at me, having heard the words spoken beneath my breath, and gave me an honest questioning look. "You are that strong, but you do not enjoy battle? You are an odd one," Flowey leered at me, "Someone as strong as you should have realized by now. Fighting is fun! Death and pain are just the cost of that fun! It's the ultimate game anyone can play with their lives on the line as they exercise the most basic rule of this world! IT'S KILL OR BE KILLED!"
Dozens of energy pellets manifest in the air around Flowey, then multiply, all spinning rapidly, and I tense, ready to move and use my eyes to their fullest advantage to-
FWOOSH!
A ball of flame came screaming from the side, the flames hot enough that I can feel my skin heat up more then a dozen feet away. It struck Flowey, causing the fiendish flower creature to screech as the flames envelop it in its deadly embrace. Flowey trashed as the energy pellets it had brought into existence disintegrate now that its focus is broken. A bare second later it once again disappears beneath the soil with a loud pop, and I immediately turn my attention to where the ball of flame had come from.
I did keep my senses primed on the off chance that the creature might come back soon. Flames applied to the body of a flower would be devastating, but there was no way to be certain how fast Flowey could recover from such a thing. It was better to be safe then sorry, after all.
For now, though, the majority of my attention is on the doorway which the ball of flame had emerged on the other end of the room, through which I could see a large shadow move. The shadow steadily grew bigger and became more distinct as it got closer and closer to me, allowing me to make out more and more of the emerging being's body.
The being was about the size of an adult, and it is wearing some kind of robe, though I couldn't make out any details yet. As it got closer, however, I could feel a subtle but undeniable pressure slowly building on my body, as if the air had gotten thicker and heavier for every step that it took towards me.
I swallow as I realize that the pressure that I am feeling right now is pure magical energy pressing down on me. Whatever this being is, it is naturally emitting enough Prana that its mere approach made the air itself feel heavy. It had to be incredibly powerful to be able to do that.
Stamping down my budding apprehension, my feet shift into a ready position and I bare my staff at the approaching presence. I am a Magus, a human being who has broken past the rules imposed by the world, beat the system so to speak, in order to enact my Magecraft. Whatever this being is, I will not be intimidated by its mere aura.
"What a terrible creature, torturing such a poor, innocent youth. . ."
I hear the being murmur as it steps into the light, its voice oddly soothing for the powerful presence that it exudes.
The moment that the being becomes clear to my sight, I have to hold back a gasp of shock.
The being is definitely not human, something made abundantly clear by the fact that it is covered entirely in rather soft looking, snow white fur. The being's head greatly reminds me of a goat, with long, droopy ears falling down on either side of said head, almost to its shoulders, while two small, highly adorable horns can be found on top of its head. The goat-like being looks at me with kind eyes, framed with long eyelashes, with red irises that seem maddeningly familiar somehow.
As I had noted earlier, the being is wearing a kind of robe that leaves its feet and paws, both of which are tipped by sharp looking claws, exposed. The fabric of the robe in question is colored a fairly dark shade of blue, with white sleeves, while the same symbol that seems to decorate all the doorways in these caverns can be found on its chest, the symbol surrounded by a lighter shade of blue. The symbol itself - the sphere, stylized wings and triangles - are colored white.
Its appearance, though, is not the reason why I am shocked. No, all my attention is focused on the pure white sphere swirling in front of the being's chest.
A SOUL. Another's SOUL.
Like it had done with my own SOUL not to long ago, my sight somehow goes deeper then the SOUL's mere appearance, allowing me to make out this being's most distinctive traits with but a glance. My gaze does not penetrate this being's SOUL as deep as it did my own, but I can clearly see the love, hope and the bottomless compassion that make up said SOUL. I can also see plently of mischievousness and playfullness hidden deep inside of its SOUL, and a strong motherly inclination.
Combined, this gives this being a loving, highly protective nature.
That's how my eyes - and I do not know how this works - interpret the SOUL of this being, at least.
Furthermore, as my eyes continue to gaze at and interpret the being's SOUL, I am saddened to see deep, soul-rending-
"My word, what happened here!"
The shocked exclamation broke my chain of thought. The being looked around the chamber with slightly widened eyes, which, to put it mildly, has been shot to hell and back under the constant barrage of energy pellets Flowey had been throwing everywhere with abandon. The walls, floor and even ceiling are all pockmarked with hundreds of several inch deep holes - which really made me wonder how in the name of the Root my cloak could have possible taken two of those and not be damaged, even Reinforced as it was - and there was the constant sound of chips of rock breaking off from the walls and ceiling, which added more and more dust to the already chocked air.
Even raised in obvious surprise, the being's voice sounded feminine and motherly to my ears, making me relax a little, though not enough to drop my guard entirely.
The being evidently noticed my apprehension, something that was clear from the fact that I am still baring my staff in her direction and how tense I currently am. The being's eyes look me over for something that I cannot identify, looking concerned, before quickly raising her hands - er, paws - in a placating gesture.
"Ah, do not be afraid, my child. I mean you no harm."
I remained skeptical for a moment longer, looking into her gentle red eyes, searching for any hint of deceit, before relaxing slightly and lowering my staff. I could sense no ill will coming from this being, and her SOUL spoke of a deep kindness and a protective, motherly nature that almost instantly made me feel at ease. Hell, I am pretty sure that even if I couldn't somehow make out her core nature with nothing but a glance I still would have trusted her to a degree. She really came across as that sweet and nice.
She looked relieved as I relaxed, and she slowly approached, as if she was frightened to spook me.
"Are you hurt anywhere, innocent one? I will heal your wounds if needed."
I was about to shake my head no, until a painful throb from my side gave me pause and made me grimace in mild pain. Now that adrenaline was no longer coursing through my body, I could clearly feel where the two energy pellets that had gotten past my guard earlier had hit.
"Yes," I said lowly, gently pressing a glove covered hand into my side. "I was hit here."
"Let me take a look," she said kindly, having almost reached me. "I will take care of it."
Curious what she was planning on doing, and feeling save enough in her presence to do so, I move aside my cloak and raise my T-shirt. Underneath, two large bruises which have already started to turn purple could be seen, being placed diagonally on the skin over my ribcage, one placed slightly higher then the other.
As I did this, I sheepishly shut down my Circuits, having forgotten to switch them off in all the excitement. The moment I do, my sight once again reverts back to its previous state, my heightened clarity of perception, the strange dots in everything and the overlapping images fading away, and everything no longer moves in slow motion.
I can still see the goat-like creature's SOUL, though I can no longer read said SOUL like I did a moment before.
Hiding a frown, I quietly resolve to myself to figure this mystery out as soon as possible. I am certain that if I hadn't lost my memories, I would know what is going on.
That can wait for later, though. For now, it would probably be best if I keep my attention on the one who had come to my aid, and who is currently tending to me.
"What a horrible thing to do," the kind being murmurs to herself, having dropped to her knees in front of me to get a closer look at my bruises. Her clawed paws gently brush over said bruises, careful to not put too much pressure on my wounded side. "To hurt a child in such a way is inexcusable."
"Thankfully," she continued on to say, retracting her paws. "These bruises are easily healed. Hold still, my child," her clawed paws lit up with a gentle green light, some kind of healing magic, I'm sure, "This won't take long."
The kind goat-like creature places her paws, one over the other, over the bruises marring my side as she concentrates. Immediately, I can feel the foreign Prana invade my body, focusing on the bruises, and I grimace as pain briefly flares, only to relax a moment later as the energy accelerates the healing process and soothes away the pain.
A moment later, she takes her paws away, revealing unblemished skin underneath, my bruises having disappeared in seconds. I raised an eyebrow, impressed.
"There we go, all better," she stands up and dusted off her robe, smiling kindly down at me. I find myself gratefully looking back up at her as I lower my T-shirt back down.
"Thank you, um," I said, shuffling in place. "Uh, what should I... call you?"
Her eyes widened, and then her muzzle, which was so slight I had a hard time to notice she even had it, pulled back in what appeared to be a sheepish smile, revealing a pair of rather sharp looking fangs underneath her top lip.
"Oh dear, I forgot to introduce myself, didn't I?" she said, sounding mortified. "I am Toriel, caretaker of the Ruins."
"Nice to meet you," I said back, politeness taking over. "I'm Shirou, Emiya Shirou."
Toriel giggled, though I am not certain at what.
"Well, aren't you a polite little boy," she said, and I blush a little. "Shirou, huh? That's a nice name."
Toriel paused, blinked once, and then raised an eyebrow at me.
"I have to ask, why did you put your last name in front of your first name?"
"That's normal where I come from," I remark immediately, the answer coming easily, as if I have had to answer that particular question many times before.
Toriel nodded, accepting my words at face value.
"Anyway," she said, quickly changing topics. "I pass through this place every day to see if anyone has fallen down. You are the first human to come here for a very long time."
"Where is here?" I find myself asking one of the first burning questions that are on my mind right now.
"This is the Underground," Toriel said. "The home of monsterkind."
I could feel my eyebrows shoot up into my hairline at the answer that I am given.
"I can imagine that you have many questions, my child, and I will gladly answer all of them," Toriel said, correctly interpreting my expression.
"But not here, I take it?"
Toriel nodded, looking aggrieved at something. I frowned.
"It isn't safe for you here, innocent one," she continued. "Once we are safely through the catacombs, I will answer any question that you have."
She offered her paw to me, obviously wanting to guide me through the dangers ahead. I look at her paw briefly, then up at her, before taking the proffered paw.
If anything, Toriel had proven herself a kind person, and I implicitly trusted here to do right by me, even though I am not entirely certain why I did so.
Toriel gently holds my glove covered hand in her own as she turns us both in the direction of the doorway she had emerged from. I fell into step with her, following behind her as she starts to walk. She smiles over her shoulder at me, happy for some reason.
"Welcome to the Underground, my child."
