Hikaru: First chapter!

--

Deep in the Iselian Forest, beyond the empty, haunted human ranch that once belonged to the Desians of old, two ninja of New Mizuho trained ferociously. They were young, sixteen each, and were twin brother and sister. The brother, Leneth, leapt into the treetops, panting as if he ran a marathon. He tightened his navy blue scarf, the scarf his mother had given him along with the dark blue ninja uniform his uncle Orochi had gifted to him a few years back. His short black ponytail at the nape of his neck was a little loose, so Leneth fixed it, short katana in hand, waiting.

His sister Liath was around here, somewhere. Once or twice he thought he caught sight of her telltale long, blood red braid, but it turned out to be his imagination. A small shruiken flew at him from nowhere; Leneth jumped to another treetop, catching the offending projectile on his way. It was definitely Liath's weapon. Her long-range weapons were shruiken and kunai knives, while Leneth preferred writing spells in guardian cards and throwing those. Both siblings fought with short katanas in close proximity.

Leneth tried again to look for in the shadowed forest any sign of Liath's black scarf and ninja garb. He gulped down a breath of air, decided to try and snuff her out. It just wasn't fair! Liath was so damned good at covert operations, while Leneth thrived in the middle of all the action! Leneth, strapped for air he was, forced himself to quiet his breathing, just in case Liath with her damnable keen hearing was nearby. Liath seemed to be able to hear even the faintest sounds really well, unspeakably well. Idly Leneth wondered if Liath's sense of smell was as acute.

At once the forest silenced.

Not even the crickets or the birds made any sort of noise whatsoever, just as if they watched the mock-battle rage on. Leneth crouched on his tree branch, leaning closer to the shadows to avoid being seen. His hand traveled to his pocket, where his guardian cards rested. He knew each card by its somewhat muted mana signature. He grabbed and withdrew one enchanted with Aska's power of light. He breathed more evenly now.

All at once he jumped to the ground, throwing Aska's card where he thought Liath might be hidden. He ran with his back to the card, short katana at the ready.

The forest exploded with bright light, and surely enough he heard the yelp of his sister at being blinded with such light in so dark a region. Leneth grabbed another card.

"Demon Fang!"

Leneth had no time to use his card; a shockwave threw him off his feet completely. Laughter filled his ears, and Liath came forward, rubbing at her eyes.

"Nice try, Len," she smiled, "but I win!"

Leneth sighed, getting to his feet. The card he had held was ripped.

"Dammit . . . you always do that! Force me to the ground, and then Demon Fang!"

Liath played with her braid, still smirking at her brother.

"That was pretty clever, though . . . I didn't expect you to use Aska's power like that."

"But that's nothing compared to his true power! I want to see Mom summon him just once . . ." Leneth threw up his arms, sighing again.

At this Liath's smile faltered.

"Yeah, but Mom doesn't really have a reason to summon. We're perfectly safe right now. No reason to fight."

"Best to be prepared, though."

Leneth drew his katana, grinning widely. Liath blinked twice over before she smiled, reaching for her knives.

"You're on!"

--

All battered and bruised up, Leneth and Liath recorded the results of their sparring (which Liath mostly won) before a quick trip to the New Mizuho hot springs. The springs at the House of Guidance in Tethe'alla was natural, but the ones here Leneth's grandfather Kratos, with the help of a few others in the village, had built. After the quick dip, they went straight to the village to help out.

Some houses' thatch roof needed repairing, the fields and gardens needed tending, and one always needed to check the nearby river to see if anything happened to it. This year's harvest looked to be a good one, and the prosperity of the earth reminded Leneth of the fairy tale his grandfather used to tell him and Liath when they were small. He recalled the opening words well—

Once upon a time, there was a giant tree that was the source of mana . . .

The Giant Tree, Yggdrasill, indeed existed, but the legend of the Chosen One? Now that had to be a fairly tale! Chosen Ones and saving the land from destruction were horribly clichéd, anyway. Or like that Dwarven Vow that his father taught him—

Dwarven Vow #7: Goodness and love will always win!

Man, that is such a cheesy line for anyone to be saying these days! But, Leneth's father and dwarven grandfather always reminded him never to forget it, so in Leneth's mind the vow stayed.

When the day's work was over, Leneth and Liath headed back to their house, where their mother the Chief of the village lived.

"Man, I'm bushed," Leneth sighed as soon as he slid the door shut. From the kitchen he smelled the aroma of oden, miso soup, steamed rice, ramen, and so much other good stuff cooking. Liath took her shoes off, sitting down at the low table on a mat.

"C'mon Leneth! Be a little stronger!"

He shot his sister an annoyed glare.

"I would if you wouldn't chase me with knives and shruiken all day long!"

Liath only shrugged, polished ivory chopsticks already in her hand.

"Dinner smells about ready. Help set the table."

"All right . . ."

As Leneth ambled over to the wooden chest that contained all the currently clean dishes, his eyes wandered to the wall, where two swords hung on golden mantles. They were magic swords, so his mother said. One of flame, and one of ice. Flamberge and Vorpal. Leneth's dwarven grandfather, Dirk, had forged Vorpal, and Flamberge once belonged to Kratos, and he never said where it came from.

Lloyd, Leneth and Liath's father, once used those swords, but now he just left them for display. For the family heirloom, he said. Leneth couldn't understand why those magnificent swords should be left alone. Sure, they were quite pretty, but wouldn't they be put to better use in fighting? Well, like Liath said, there wasn't much use for fighting except to fight off the occasional pack of monsters, but . . .

Leneth frowned, returning to the task of getting ready for dinner.

Whenever he talked to Lloyd about the swords, his father always got this distant look in his eyes, as if remembering something better left unsaid. Come to think of it, Leneth didn't really know much about his parents. His mother, Sheena, was an exceptional summoner, and had all the pact rings and formed pacts with every single Spirit on all of Aselia. Sheena was the Chief of New Mizuho, fought in the Igaguri style with guardian cards. Lloyd was a swordsman, a self-taught twin blader. Lloyd was orphaned at a young age, came to be raised by Dirk, and was found by Kratos later on. That was all he really knew. Lloyd always wore a strip of cloth tied around his left hand, even if he wore a glove, and no matter how many times Leneth asked what it was, his father would shrug and say simply, "Just an old battle wound." Oh, come on, now. There had to be something more.

Whenever Leneth asked his sister what she thought on these things, she would only shrug and state she was never all that curious. How could she not be?

As the Fujibayashi-Irving family ate their dinner, chatting amiably, Leneth silently made it his goal to find out more about his parents.

After all, his mother can't have become a summoner without a good reason, and those two swords on the wall must have a story of their own . . .

Curiosity killed the cat, Leneth . . .

Leneth didn't really have much of a fondness for cats.