Chapter 1: Shakily Retreading Old Ground
The world caves around my darkening and winding vision, rapidly fading into unreachable nothingness.
I fall and fall, the Dragon's glowing magic stone getting further away from my grasp… no, it's already escaped. It's already out of my reach.
The sound of the wind parting around my fall begins to fade from my ears, along with what little remained of my strength.
My vision winds, my mind recedes, my strength crumbles…yet in all of this, the fading sensation on my back is what hurts the most. The Dragon's eye, growing ever distant, is what hurts the most.
Failure hurts more than death.
Leaving my loved ones behind with my failure hurts a thousand more.
With what little remains of my existence, I raise my hand—or at least I try to—and without any indication of whether I succeed, I try to yell out one last chant, one last blow to finish the job.
But before I can, I feel a sharp pain pierce through my already fading consciousness as something strikes through my mouth.
Somehow, in all the pain and death around me, I experience a split-second of clarity. A split-second where I can perceive all.
My bloodied self.
The Blessing, already fading from my back.
My pierced tongue.
A huge hole on the back of my neck.
A lock of beautiful golden hair, falling besides me.
And the ground, celches away and signalling our death.
As my sudden clarity fades, I reach for the golden hair falling besides me—
And shortly after, feel the ground meet my already mangled flesh.
…
...
...
"OW!"
I wake up with a start as a sudden pain strikes my head, pulling me out of my groggy state…
…
…wait, what?
"Oh, Bell, are you finally up?"
It takes me a second to realize I'm currently upside down with my legs still lying on the edge of my bedding and my face firmly squished into the wooden floorboards. Getting up, I feel a familiarly breezy and coarse fabric tickle my neck, followed by a surprise when I suddenly fall over after just having stood back up.
Thankfully I land on the bed, but my hips hit the frame and give an uncomfortable Crack!
"~~!"
In my pain and disorientation, I flail around for a second and manage to slam the back of my hand into the corner of a desk.
"~~!"
"Bell, what are you doing, being so clumsy in the morning? Come on now, you're already fourteen! Can't you wake up without banging on every piece of furniture in your room? Look, scrouge yourself up and come over for breakfast, ok?"
As a set of footsteps walk away from my doorstep, I manage to find enough coordination to sit on the ground, holding my right hand in pain as a little bit of blood—
…Wait, my right hand?
I flex the muscles in my arm, starting from my shoulder and bicep and following through with my tricep and forearm, eventually reaching my wrist and finally my… right hand.
I turn my hand and inspect it all around, but there's no inconsistency: it's not mechanical Like Nazha's and its not… monster-like either. It's just a normal, human hand, the only notable thing being a little wound from when I banged against the table—
Wait, did a wooden table just hurt me?
And wait, my scars? My equipment? My potions? My Cloak?
And wait, she said four…WAIT, FOURTEEN?
I manage to stand up and look around frantically, eventually finding a window and seeing the reflection of a young man with white hair and red eyes that looks exactly like younger me and wait it is me but not me its younger me and it is me but wait since when was I am—
"FOUrTeENnN?!"
"Well here you are. Eat up, Bell. Gods know you won't get anything good on the road—I hear people in carriages fight over jerky like it's a delicacy!"
After stumbling to the next house over, I vaguely listen to my neighbour, Bertha, talk about traveling while pecking at the beef stew she prepared for me.
Only after dropping the spoon three times in a row, that is.
Its… uncomfortable. Whenever I grip something, thinking I'm holding it tightly, it slips from my fingers without resistance. When I reach for something, I stop a full step away from what I'm trying to grab. When I try to walk, I end up crumpling to the ground because I didn't put enough power on my legs, and when I do manage a step, everything feels uncomfortable: the length of my legs, the way my joints bend, the cushioning of my feet…
Despite the oddities, this body still moves when I tell it to, but… It's like I'm a ghost possessing a body rather than it being my own.
"Here, have some boiled carrots too. I heard from a passing merchant that grilling carrots drains all the good stuff out of them! Who knew?"
Is this… no, I can't think of anything this could be but the past. Even this conversation sounds vaguely familiar.
How? That's not something I could possibly figure out right now. There's no spell, skill, blessing, equipment or curse I know of that could've possibly done this.
But, by that logic, is this… even happening? Did I really travel to the past?
Actually, even disregarding that, my last memory—the Dragon's Magic Stone—I, I—
I failed.
"And oh, the radishes! The merchant also told me cooking a radish makes all the good stuff leak out, so I have a few raw ones right he—"
"A, I—"
Bertha turns to look at me and in that moment I realize my speech, too, is uncoordinated.
"Ah, uh, I—pRomiSeD to meeT SomeOnE! Thank YoU for tHE mEAL!"
I stumble out of the house, almost tripping over the doorframe on the way out, and confusingly run away before Bertha can ask me any questions.
I need to think alone for a bit.
"…Well what got into him? I was just about to bring out the raw fish."
"…"
"…Well, if he isn't going to have any, I might as well—"
"AaAA, AAaa, AAAA. A, I, U, E, O. AAAHHH. BEll. BeLl, Bell. Bell CRaNel. Bell CraaneL. Bell Cranell. Bell Cranel."
After stumbling away to the top of a nearby hill, I lean against a tree and take a moment to catch my breath and try adjusting my pronunciation.
"I P—I promised to meet someONE! Someone. Thank YoU, you, for the meal. I promised to meet someone, thank you for the meal."
Thankfully, adjusting my voice turns out to be easier than coordinating my body. A fact proven by the scratch I got from falling on the way here.
Moving into the sun, I take a second to inspect my scratch.
Wait, where… where is it? It feels like it's around here, but…
I look around my elbow only to see no wound. Confused, I look over the rest of my arm and eventually raise the arm of my shirt. There, I finally find the scratch around my shoulder.
Maybe…
With shaky fingers, I give a series of taps around my elbow—and feel it around my shoulder. I move down: the sensation moves down too, but at a distance. I keep moving down, and somewhere around the latter end of my forearm the sensation and where I'm touched meet.
In the area around my elbow, extending about halfway to my shoulder and wrist, my sensation of "touch" is messed up. Incongruous. Mismatched. Off.
I check all around my body. My legs have a similar, off-beat area, as well as my waist. My torso, neck and head seem fine, it's just certain areas around my appendages.
…Can this be adapted to, like my voice? Or… is it permanent?
Too overwhelmed by everything to continue, I take a seat around the base of the tree and stare at the sky.
At least my eyesight is fine.
However, I only revel in the miniscule solace of my eyes for a moment: the very next second, I try to focus on a bird flying by, only to have it completely disappear the instant it reaches my peripherals.
With a start, I get up and look around the sky, trying to find the bird. I eventually do, and watch as it settles onto a nearby branch.
Starting at the bird's center, I move my vision slowly to the right, hoping—and get betrayed—the moment it reaches my peripherals, whereupon everything becomes impossibly blurry and blended, like a watered-down painting.
Wondering how I didn't notice this, I almost yell out in frustration, but a chirp from the bird stops me. I wait, and it chirps again.
I look at the bird.
It chirps again.
…Even my hearing?
This time, I do yell. I yell and focus—and notice that, not only is the positioning off, I can't hear anything above a certain pitch.
Tired, I fall back onto the ground.
…Did I even taste the food right? It did seem a bit mellow…
How can I fight like this? My hearing, my vision, my touch, everything's messed up.
How can I fight—
…
…Do I fight?
Was I even fighting?
Did I imagine the whole thing? Was it all a divine prank of the Gods, a dream so real and cruel?
Am I simply delusional?
Did everything happen?
If it did… I failed. I failed to kill the Dragon. After everyone's sacrifice, I failed.
If it was a dream… it doesn't matter. Nothing I did would've mattered.
Was it real? If so, what can I do? How can I fight, with this body?
Was it fake? If so… what do I do?
Is this even the past?
Was there even a future?
What is…
What happened to me?
Did anything happen to me?
Is the world even the same as I knew it?
I can't think. No, what even is this? I—I… What even is this? What am I… Am I even thinking right? Is even my thinking off? Is that what happened? My thinking is just off? Weird? Silly? What even… What even—
"WHAT EVEN IS THIS!"
I release a breath I didn't know I was holding and try to calm down—but I can't. Now that I know, I notice the slight inconsistencies everywhere in my perception: the sound of my breath, the ground I'm looking at, the feeling of my arm making a fist, the smell of cedar—even my smell!? —everything.
I move to slam my hand again. Even this—even this is—
…
…
"OW!"
All my senses come to a halt as a sharp pain touches my hand. In my disorientated state, despite the lacking intensity it's unbelievably clear and palpable.
I look to see what caused it, and freeze.
A drop of blood flows down my hand.
It lands on my knife. My—
"The Hestia Knife!?"
Disbelieving, I reach for the handle and half-expect it to fade like a hallucination, but it doesn't. It is unbelievably solid and even in my disoriented mess of sensations, incredibly clear and familiar.
How is… How is it here? How did it follow me, and—
Suddenly, I remember what Fels said. The day of the ritual.
—It is done."
I pick up the Hestia Knife and watch its dormant hieroglyphs glow with strength as it touches my hand. I swing it around a few times, but…
"It doesn't feel all that different, Fels."
At that, Fels makes a gesture that's almost like trying to hold in a laugh.
"Oh, do not fret, Bell Cranel. The ritual is done, and now this blade is forever bound to your soul. Do not underestimate the gravity of what just happened: this is a historical moment. An unbelievable triumph, one any magician, alchemist or practitioner will recall and study with admiration and trepidation."
Fels pauses as if taking a breath.
"Of course, you will see the improvement to your blade in battle, but do not deceive yourself into thinking that is the greatest boon of this ritual."
Fels' cloak floats over and caresses the blade from a distance.
"This Knife, now forever bound to your soul… it will never leave you and never have another owner. In this grand world, it only sees your soul and only follows your will. I even wonder if divine intervention will be enough to sever your bond… the blade may even follow you to Tenkai when you ascend, though in what form I couldn't guess."
"Know this, Bell Cranel, and know it as fact:"
"This Blade will never leave you and could only ever be used by you. It will follow you to the ends of Genkai and perhaps even Tenkai."
"Wherever your soul goes, wherever your soul calls, this blade will follow…"
"Soulbound…"
I get up with the blade gripped on my right hand. I observe it carefully and closely, seeing the same hieroglyphs that followed me throughout my journey… the glyphs of my Goddess, Hestia.
With a gulp, I raise the knife into the air—
—and swing it down.
And in an instant, I feel the hieroglyphs light up and fill with power, cutting the air. It sings to me, celebrating its re-awakening and its return to the hands of its rightful owner.
These glyphs used to respond to any Hestia Familia member, but after the Binding Ritual developed by Fels, it only responds to my soul.
I suppose, even without a Falna, it still recognizes my soul.
And if the Hestia Blade is here, if it's followed me, if it still recognizes my soul as its rightful owner…
"Then everything I experienced… happened."
With the realization, suddenly the world seems clearer.
The incongruous sensation is still there, but now I notice more, as if a veil has been lifted. My mind, my perception: everything.
The dirt of the Dragon's Ravine that crusts the knife's handle.
A small marking I made as a child, still present on the very tree I was just leaning on.
This hill, where my Grandfather, Zeus, used to read me the stories of Heroes past.
And this very same Hill, where, after running from Orario and the Freya Familia, I made a promise with the Goddess and my Familia—
And the Promise was— the Promise was—
"If Freya's after you, she's picked a fight with all of us, Bell! If I'm not there, who's going to fix your armour?"
"Bell-sama, Lilli will follow you to the ends of Genkai! Don't think this supporter can so easily be tossed aside!"
"Bell-dono, my loyalty is not so easily shaken. And make no doubt: we will return."
"Bell-Sama, ever since you saved me from my fate, I decided to never abandon you. Besides, does it not feel like we are going on a grand adventure, just like the stories? This is rather exciting!"
With the encouraging words of my Familia ringing in my ear, I turn to the Goddess with teary eyes.
With a knowing look, she strokes the riboons tying her hair—my very first gift to her.
"Bell, you're out of your mind if you think I can't leave Orario for you. Why would I want to stay there without my Familia? And without you, this Familia wouldn't be the same."
She steps forward and gently strokes my cheek.
"Bell, a Familia is a second family… And family's always there for each other."
"We'll always be there for each other—and always be there for you."
"And I… Promised to do the same."
With that, I break out into a run.
I promised I would always be there for them!
This knife—this knife in my hand—it all happened! Everything I remember!
And in that case—in that case—
I promised!
Even if this is the past, no—if this is the past, then it's not a curse! It's a second chance!
Even if they don't remember me, even if I'm alone, they're still family!
I'll do it again! I'll do it as many times as I need to, as much as the world allows me!
I'll help them again! I'll forge bonds with them! Even if things don't turn out like last time, even if they don't join my Familia… I'll help them!
And this time—and this time—
My Knife flares with light as if responding to my determination.
And after jumping over a fence, I finally arrive at my destination.
There, in front of a mound of dirt marked by a piece of wood and various ceremonial flowers, I raise my knife to the air and make a small cut, letting blood flow from my clenched fist in view of the sun, as if swearing a vow.
"I'll kill the Black Dragon!"
"I'll protect my Family!"
"I'll—"
"Goodness Bell, what're you being so loud for?"
Shocked, I turn around only to see Bertha standing there, holding a basket of what smells like nuts.
"Did—did you hear?"
"Ah, whatever you were yelling about? No, not really. The wind was making all the leaves blow loud."
As I give a tiny sigh of relief, she looks past me and at the mound.
"I figured if you were going anywhere, it would be here."
I turn to face the mound once again.
"Saying goodbye to your ol' Gramps, huh?"
Seeing her look so wistful, it almost feels a little silly, knowing that he's still alive and kicking.
"Oh wait, what happened to your hand? Did you scratch it on a branch?"
"Hey Bertha."
"Yeah? Just wait, I have water around here—"
"My name is Bell Cranel, right?"
She looks at me incredulously. "…Yeah?"
"And my Grandpa? He was Paul?"
"Well that's the only name I knew him by, yeah."
"And I'm going to…"
"Orario. What, you say it too much you forgot the name?"
"No, nothing like that. Sorry for the funny questions, Bertha. Just one last one, though… Do you know why I'm going to Orario?"
She gives a knowing smile.
"Wellll seeing as you're of age now I suppose you can take the embarrassment. What you're going to do? Ha! I'd bet the whole village knows! If anyone says they don't, they're laughing on the inside!"
A gust of wind blows up, lifting my hair upwards. The world feels like it's paused as I wait for Berthas answer, completely certain of what she's going to say.
"To become a Hero!"
And so, time begins moving forward again.
Even after moving backwards, both time and I still continue on—
To become a Hero all over again.