"E.M.T!" | Speaking

E.M.T! | Thoughts or Writing

Story Inspired By Re:Spirited – Hotfrost11


300 Years Before the Sealing of the Witch of Envy

The low humming of a man could be heard.

Inside a small cottage house that looked worse-for-wear sat an old man with pale gray hair, humming a small tune.

In the house, papers were scattered everywhere. The only furniture was a small bed, a chair, and a table.

The old man had a frail look to him. Almost as if he hadn't been outside for several years. Well, that would be true. He had devoted his life to a project. A project that would change everything.

Creating an artificial spirit.

Suddenly, his humming stopped. He just stared at the papers on his table, going over the several notes. Without warning, he slammed his fist into the table, causing the papers to fly everywhere. "It's all wrong!" The old man shouted. He had a gruff voice. Yet at the same time, it held a hint of compassion and kindness.

He raised his hand to his forehead. "Why won't it work...?" He said softly. No matter how hard he tried, the structure just seemed to collapse. No matter how many attempts he made, he would barely make any progress.

No matter how hard he prayed, cried, begged... It would never work.

A mere human trying to create an artificial spirit was impossible. He didn't have nearly enough mana. He sighed in frustration, forcing himself to take deep breaths, calming him down. Once he was calm, he sat back down in his chair. "Right. I just need some more time." He spoke. "Teacher, I won't fail you." With those last words, he started working.

Creating an artificial spirit is something that was considered impossible. That's what he has been told his entire life. Always. It required immense control, knowledge of the world, and most importantly, mana. A lot of mana.

He was on his last legs. He had lived far longer than an average human. Even with help from his teacher, he still wouldn't be able to live for much longer. He sighed, picking up his notes from the ground. "One step at a time." He said softly.

"One step at a time."


Many years later, he still hadn't reached a breakthrough.

Quiet tears fell to the floor. This was his last attempt. His final bravado.

He was sweating very heavily. His throat burned and he felt like he would collapse at any moment. He had been suffering from mana exhaustion for a good while now. Tears in his eyes, he channeled his mana.

He started.

Flashes of his life appeared. His family always looking down on him, finding his teacher, studying, and then... Working for the rest of his life. Overall, he lived a disappointing life. Things could've been better if he had just given up on this project long ago. However, he wanted to leave a mark.

He wanted to be remembered.

A mere human managing to create an artificial spirit.

How many days had he spent working just to earn that title? He doesn't know.

He felt himself being drained of his mana.

"Please..." He begged. He just wanted to rest. "Please!" Tears were flowing rapidly from his eyes.

"Please..." He hung his head low, continuing the flow of mana.

Just then, a bright light shone. The old man looked up, immediately regretting it. The light was blinding. He cut off his flow of mana, covering his eyes.

When the light had finally dissipated, he uncovered his eyes.

There where the light previously was sat a young child with swept-back short black hair, wearing simple rags, and sharp intimidating brown eyes.

The two both stared at each other, not saying a word.

Then, in the midst of the silence came a laugh. It was a very small laugh. It wasn't a laugh of elation or humor. It was one of relief.

The old man smiled. "Finally." He fell asleep, collapsing immediately.

April 1st | Attempt 892,645: Success


The old man's eyes shot open. How long had he been asleep? He sat up, looking around the room. What he saw was a young boy walking around the small house, prodding at anything that he could get his hands on. "Huh?" The old man said, confused at the sight.

Suddenly, memories from before he passed out appeared in his mind. Immediately, he felt one thing: Pure elation.

"Wahoo!" The man immediately jumped up, causing the young boy to turn his way with a confused expression. The old man immediately felt a sharp pain in his back from the sudden movement. He groaned in pain for a moment.

After recovering, he dashed out of the small house, leaving the spirit behind. The spirit just stared after him. Moments later, the old man returned, a bottle of wine in hand. "I promised myself I would drink this after I had completed this project. Now... I can finally drink it!" The old man rejoiced.

"Hm, how long has it been? 80... 90 years... Eh, whatever." He quickly brought the bottle to his lips. "Gha!" He let out a sigh of pure bliss as he walked over to his chair and sat down. "That tastes amazing."

The old man then brought his attention back to the spirit. He was currently watching a small ant crawl up a wall. "Now, what do I do with you?" The old man muttered. He didn't really have any plans for what to do with the spirit.

"Hm... I guess I could sell him to someone." The old man murmured. "No, that's too cruel." He quickly brushed the idea off. 'Well, I guess he could stay here.' The old man stood up and walked over to the spirit.

When the spirit noticed that the man was coming closer, it flinched. 'Huh, that's interesting.' The man thought, continuing to move forward. The spirit frantically looked in all directions, looking for a possible escape.

One step... It flinched. Two steps... It panicked. Three steps... It tried to hide.

When the spirit reached the spirit, he crouched down so they were at eye level. "Hello. Can you talk?" The old man said, giving a calm smile. The spirit seemed to calm down a bit, realizing that he wasn't in any danger.

The spirit moved his hand to his throat. "Hmmm." The spirit let out a soft hum, seemingly testing his vocal cords. When the spirit seemed satisfied, he spoke.

"Hello."

That was all the spirit said. Nothing more. Nothing less.

"Alright! That's great!" The old man said enthusiastically. "Hm, let's come up with a name for you..." The old man stood up, raising his hand to his chin in thought. He thought back to his teacher and the teachings.

After a moment, he smiled. He figured out a name. Pointing at the spirit, he spoke in an excited tone. "Natsuki Subaru! That will be your name. The Pleiades constellation is pretty cool, you know."

Subaru stared at the man. "Subaru... Nastuki... My name... is Natsuki Subaru?" He asked. "Yeah!" The old man said, giving Subaru a thumbs up.

Subaru smiled for the first time.

"Natsuki Subaru. I like it."

"Alright!" The old man said. "I've got to go get some work done now. If you need anything, just call me. After I'm finished, we can go out and get you some new clothes." The old man then left Subaru to his own devices.

Subaru honestly didn't know what to do. He didn't know he got here, who he was, what he was doing here. All he knew was that his name was Natsuki Subaru and that there was an old man in this small room.

Subaru walked over to the wood wall. It looked worn down. Running his hand across the wall, he felt the wood. The wood had long become rot due to time.

Soft, Subaru thought. I wonder how long it's been- Subaru's thoughts were cut off by a sudden sharp pain in one of his fingers.

He carefully inspected the finger where he felt the pain. There he found a small fragment of wood that had punctured his finger. He immediately tore out the fragment of wood, causing a small stinging pain.

What was that? It didn't feel very good.

Subaru sighed, moving over to sit in a corner. He tucked his head in between his legs and let himself be consumed by his own thoughts.


Little spirit, so soft, so fragile,

Treading down the path of life at a simple stroll,

Steps calm, breath steady, blissfully unaware of the dangers that hide behind the colorful canvas.

But ignorance can only last so long.

When fire rains from above, the crimson of blood tainting the damp grass,

The little spirit falls into darkness, spiraling into an endless loop of suffering

Looping, looping, looping, looping

Looping until its mind shatters, until it's lost in the darkness,

The hands of time continue ticking, but the spirit is left behind, fighting for a way to escape the shadows

But when all hope is lost, when the spirit finally decides to let the fire inside die, a light appeared:

So loving, so kind, so beautiful,

Extending a tender hand out, the Jealous Witch drags the lost spirit away from the depths of the abyss.


Well, I started it.

I wanted to write this fanfiction for a while now, but I never got around to it. Now I have finally written the prologue.

This is going to be interesting.

Waffles signing off. Bye! :D