Disclaimer! Listen to: Gawain Rap - Nightless Charisma - GhostChildX (FGO) Prod. CPrickR"
You know, he knew intellectually that he'd maybe one day meet some of the strongest people on the planet. Being in the same Familia increased his chances a bit if you asked him. That, and he held a slight hope that he could convince Loki-sama to introduce them.
Then he met Nine Hell's Riveria, princess of elves, the strongest magician in the world, a person whose beauty is not all rumors, and just all-around badass.
And he asked if she is a nurse or not.
Then Elgarm –Gareth- kidnapped him. He is still fairly sure that was a hallucination.
Let's not talk about what happened with Finn Deimne The Braver –his captain. He knows that that social faux pas will haunt him for the rest of his life.
Maybe he should just go back to his room and sleep? Or is he still sleeping? Or who knows, maybe the Minotaur did kill him. No, wait- people said your life flashes before your eyes as you die.
Most definitely not conjure seeing three plus a grey-themed werewolf –'Bete Loga, Fenris?' he mused with a detached sort of curiosity- argue with Loki-sama about fruit juices. Although he would argue that argue is a weak word, more like passive-aggressively threatening each other into submission.
But then again, there is nothing really passive about the werewolf.
…and nothing really aggressive about Gareth. More like he is enjoying this.
"Argonat-kun, Argonaut-kun!" A semi-quiet whisper caught his ear. Looking to the side bewildered, fresh out of mental capacity to process what is happening, he barely registered the feeling that he should know her.
Then his mind rebooted and realized what she called him.
"Ar- I'm not The Argonaut!" He barely caught his shrill voice.
The girl –who looks around the same age as him- giggled into her hand, "You are, you totally are! You were all 'bam!' and 'vam!' and 'schlick!' and," her face turned comically serious, " 'Will you accept me, Valhalla?' " her smile returned and widened at what must be his nth blush, "That was sooooo cool! Kinda like the Argonaut. So, since you were cool, and Argonaut is cool too, you are Argonaut-kun!" She straightened out in pride of her implacable logic. When he opened his mouth her shining eyes looked deeply into his own. Thus he lost the ability to say no.
"…Sure."
Her smile lit up the room. If she had a tail it would be waging furiously, "Hi!" she struck out her hand across the space between their seats, "I'm Tiona!"
He accepted the hand with what he hopes is a nice smile and not as anxious as he feels inside, "Hello Tiona, I'm Bell."
She gripped his hand hard enough that his bones screamed in protest. Before he could yelp she swung their arm up and down quick enough that he'd swear he left the mortal plane for a second.
"So!" She pulled him close enough that their nose almost touched, "Who's your favorite hero? I start, Argonaut." She whispered conspiratorially, unheeding of how close they are.
'No brainer,' he thought through his blush, "Beowulf."
He expected the look of confusion. It is to be expected, after all, the tale of Beowulf is old even according to Loki-sama. Not helped by the fact that it barely survived the passage of time, only the odd ones like Loki-sama still remember. Ah, what a shame. He would've loved to talk about it with what seems to be a fellow hero enthusiast. Oh well, he could just tell her-
"Oh!" Her exclamation brought him out of his thoughts with a jump, "You mean the guy that killed… uh- what was- something like Ger- Grenda-"
"Grendel!" He clasped her hand with his free one, thus sandwiching it between both, "Yes! He defeated both Grendel, and his mother! Also, also, did you know that he killed a dragon too? He was one of the first one to do that!"
She mimicked his action and looked deep into his shining eyes with equal vigor, "Really?!" She practically jumped in her seat. Not like he can blame her, he is doing the same, "I didn't know that!" She smiled as if this is her favorite day of the year.
Bell nodded vigorously, "Loki-sama said it was awesome so-"
A cough stopped him.
Both, as one, looked away from each other. Only now did they notice how silent the room is.
And the shit-eating grin on Loki-sama's face.
"Oi, oi, oi! I know ya kiddos work fast but I ain't ready to be a grandma!"
Face burning –and not even trying to stop Loki-sama in one of her many teasing moods- he looked down and fiddled with his fingers, the feeling of being an outsider back in full force. Besides him, Tiona tittered so expressively that he could see her scratching the back of her head. The less said about the others' reaction the better.
The seat sunk to his right and a hand landed on his head. Loki-sama's grinning face looked down on him before she ruffled his hair and nodded at the room in general with a look that said 'I know I'm the best goddess in the whole ass world but they ain't bad people either.'
Looking up he takes in what might be Tiona's sister-
'Wait.'
Tiona. Amazon. Executive. There is also someone that looks suspiciously like her.
'Tiona Hiryute?'
Holy guacamole he just geeked out with The Amazon.
Trying not to panic again –he's been doing that far too much- he instead looks anywhere but there. A flash of blonde just outside of the tangle of teasing that is the amazon sisters and who he assumes to be Fenris catches his attention.
Blond. Expressionless. Around his age? Hard to tell with adventurers. The beauty of her whole being doesn't even surprise him anymore, every girl in this Familia is beautiful one way or another. Curiously, her presence reminds him of Nine Hells.
"The Sword Princess?" He mumbles under his nose and almost flinches when her ears twitch and looks over to him.
He, awkwardly, blinks.
She blinks back.
He, awkwardly, waves.
She waves back.
And that's that.
His attention shifts to a steadily scarier-looking Riveria whose eye twitch when probably-Fenris makes yet another remark that has his head almost punched off by an angry amazon. It doesn't exactly help that Gareth is barely putting up some token resistance, much less refraining from chuckling. Curiously, Captain simply sits on the side. Watching and enjoying the chaos.
His expression reminds Bell of Loki-sama.
'I suppose there is a reason he is Loki-sama's first child.'
Something nudges his ankle, something that is rather Loki-sama-shaped. She gives him a look before pointedly nodding at the suspiciously not-suspicious-looking thin bundle of papers. He noticed how some of the executives glance at them curiously from time to time. Probably all of them now that he thinks about it, he just didn't notice.
And suddenly his soul was set ablaze.
He took a fortifying breath, blinked, imagined pulling off the most confident look he could, and nodded at her.
He knows what will happen, and why it will happen. They talked about it on the way here.
He closed his eyes, feeling the world slow down in tandem with his heartbeat. Flashes of the last two weeks and three days –was it only that long? He could swear it has been years- appeared before his mind's eye.
It's okay.
A voice that had less of Grandpa's quiet encouragement and Loki-sama's unwavering belief took over the howling blood in his ear.
It's okay. You are ready.
He is not strong. He is not strong enough to stand side-by-side with the people that mean the world to Loki-sama.
Fine then, he'll just protect their back.
He is not strong, but he is proud that he is not weak.
He is proud of how far he came. He is proud every single time Loki-sama's eyes glints with glee and pride. He is proud that she thinks he is ready to become a Second String even when he doesn't think so. He is proud that he is still alive. He is proud of what he can become.
He is proud of the person that he is today.
He is ready.
He is ready to be the pillar that holds up the front line. He is ready to give whatever is needed of him.
A quiet yet powerful clap popped the bubble wrapped around him. The muted voices of the executives were silenced.
Loki-sama gazed at them all with a grin, "Now then, I think ya troublemakers had your fill?" She pointedly grinned at the sheepish amazon sisters and Fenris who matched her grin bit by bit and doubled the wildness of it. Bell caught Nine Hell massaging her temples, "Sooooo, time to crank up the drama!" Suddenly, she pointed at him, "This is Bell Cranel, but y'all can call him Rabbit."
"Loki-sama-"
"Anyway!" She clasped her hands, "I'm pretty sure I don't need to tell you why he's here?" He blushed and looked away, although not without seeing several nods and smiles sent his way, "Good. It's time we discuss the next dive. But before that," her shiver sent shivers down his spine, "I need you to take a look at this." With that, she slid the stack of papers into the middle, equally in reach for everyone. Incidentally, the papers are front-down for extra dramatics.
Nine Hell quirked an eyebrow, "and what might these be?" Her words halted the questing hands.
"Oh nothin' much. A bit this and a bit that."
Nine Hell sighed like someone too used to Loki-sama. Bell can sympathize, as much as he adores Loki-sama her antics can tire him out sometimes. He won't tell her that he enjoys them nonetheless though, no reason to willingly give her teasing materials.
After a moment all of them took one and flipped it over-
"What the fuck."
"Holy shit!?"
Gareth whistled.
"Oh my…"
"SS-rank?"
"SSS-rank?!"
The Sword Princess, after barely reading a few lines, snapped her head up and stared at him. A stare just as unnerving as Nine Hell's gaze that he can't decipher.
"Also, newsflash! That's less than two weeks and a half worth." Her smirk turned devilishly proud and he'd be lying if he said it didn't warm him up better than a cup of hot chocolate on a cold night.
Captain's hum, thankfully, drew the bewildered gazes from Bell to himself, "I suppose you want him to join the Second Strings?"
Bell blinked, 'That was fast. No wonder he is the captain.'
"So soon?" Nine Hell frowned at Loki-sama, "I understand his achievements," She gave Bell an approving nod, "and abilities are impressive, however, it does not compensate for experience."
"Don' be a stick in the mud, Riveria! Don't'ya tell me ya jealous cause boya got magic like yours! Plus, he got the spirit."
"Impertinent dwarf, too many rocks falling on your head dulled you even more. You have no doubt forgotten that there is a reason only level 4 adventurers are selected."
"Then I mus' be blind! Or is it not level 3 little Lefiya that is one of 'em?"
Nine Hell's eye twitched at Gareth's shit-eating grin and for a moment Bell almost dove for cover. Level 2 or level 1 makes no difference in the face of first-class adventurers' fight.
She turned up her nose, "Lefiya had years of experience even before she joined our Familia. Years of experience which was invaluable in getting her to where she is now. No matter Bell's, admittedly impressive, repertoire of powers and track record can replace it."
"And yet he can clearly adapt to the situation." Captain cut in, "adaptability is just as good as experience, no?"
"One battle is hardly enough evidence. People pushed to the brink are different than those not."
"You say that like kiddo didn't bare us his soul!"
"Additionally, one does not reach these stats no matter the," he pointedly glanced at the stat sheet on the table, "frankly ridiculous Skill aiding him. The Minotaur mustn't have been his only challenge in the deep."
Nine Hell closed her eyes for a moment before nodding at both Captain and himself –and very pointedly not at the smug-looking Gareth. "I will withhold judgment on your prowess. However, a newly leveled adventurer joining the second line of defense will cause discontent amongst the ranks, much less someone that hasn't been within our Familia for even a month. Unless you wish to share this sheet with them as well?" Her tone of voice made her disapproval clear.
Loki-sama's grin filled him with both relief and dread. Although relief won by a large margin when she ruffled his hair, "Ya don't have to worry about that."
Nine Hell and Loki-sama stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Before long Nine Hell closed her eyes and nodded.
Captain clapped joyfully, "Excellent, in light of what we now know of his strength, character, and Loki's approval, I vote him to be instated as a member of the Second String starting the next expedition." He raised a hand.
It was hard to say who was faster joining him, Gareth, Tiona, or the Sword Princess.
Flabbergasted is a good description of what he is feeling.
'Why would she…?'
A moment later Tiona's sister –Jormungandr- joined, and another moment later Nine Hell.
The only one who is yet to vote is maybe-Fenrir.
As Bell looked at him he looked back. The werewolf simply stared into his soul, arms crossed and a calm expression that looked out of place.
And just like that, a silent pressure rose in the room.
He doesn't know when it happened, but a like a bubble bursting he noticed the tightness in his lungs. The all-encompassing silence that feels jarring after so much noise, the need to hunch on himself, the flashbacks to the moment he knew something was wrong in the Dungeon.
The moment he laid his soul bare to the great halls.
He dared not look away even as the world warped around him. No, he stared death in the face every moment in the Dungeon. He accepted it, and he rejoiced in joining the great ones of the old time.
And yet, at that moment, it was like the first reality broke into his bubble, declaring his own mortality. The moment in that forest so long ago that he was made aware that something was watching him. The monster in fairy tales.
And yet, Bell Cranel didn't look away from Death's amber eyes.
Why should he?
Bell Cranel is not scared of death.
Why should he be?
He knows what awaits on the other side. He knows that even if he were to die, Loki-sama would guide him to Valhalla.
Bell Cranel is not scared of death.
But he will fight until his last breath.
The pressure broke.
Blood roared in his ears even as he panted. The burning in his lungs reached crescendo and abated as he gulped down sweet air. Sweat coated his hand and forehead like water.
Through the static, a cackle cut through.
Although he couldn't see it, the last hand joined the rest.
And thus, the weakest –and strongest- link joined the second line.
Loki watched with a bated breath as her Rabbit slowly stopped breathing under Bete's bloodlust.
It wasn't nervousness, oh no, her slowly warming body is most definitely not because she is scared that he will fail.
She knew from perhaps the first moment they met that he will fit right in here, that he will either be accepted from the start or carve out a place for himself. She definitely knew from his first status update that the day her veteran favorites will meet her newest favorite.
That moment came, and here she sits. Grinning, delighting in the emotions filtering through the room. From Riveria's curiosity and budding protectiveness, Gareth's delighted acceptance of a new brother, Ais' curiosity and rekindled determination to be stronger, Tiona's glee, and Tione's approval.
Finn's eyes glinted with an idea that he might not have even realized yet.
And Bete's emotions slowly catch a spark.
So she let them decide if he'd join the Second Strings. She knew it'd happen sooner rather than later but the sooner the better, the less she needs to push them the better.
And so they voted.
And Bete exploded.
It was a quiet thing, a background voice that rang in their ears. She doesn't know what is more remarkable, that they caught on so soon, or that they caught on so late.
Either way, she noticed the stare-down between the Bete and Bell first. Of course, when Bell didn't look away in a moment Bete cranked up the pressure to a noticeable level.
She watched as Bell's breath turned shallow and rapid, how they slowly stopped, his eyes widened but didn't move away, sweat coating him rapidly.
He never once looked away nor blinked.
And like a switch, the daze in his eyes burned into conviction so bright that Bete blinked.
The pressure broke and Bell crumbled into his chair like a puppet with strings cut, panting like a beast and blinking quickly.
Bete's bewilderment formed into cackles of approval and he rose a lazy hand.
Riveria pinned him with a glare so foul that lesser man would have crumbled. A shame that Bete only grinned.
"What? I just showed what to fucking expect in that shithole."
The glare intensified.
Loki watched, amused to Hel and back, even as she slowly made circles on Rabbit's back.
"Now, now, there is no need to fight." Finn, ever the peacekeeper, placated them, "I agree with Bete, it is for the best that he understands what will await him during the expeditions. However," He stressed when Bete's grin reached 'Shit-eating' territory, "Bell is currently recovering, it would be for the best to not expose him to stress. Thus, I'm banning any spars with him for the week starting now." He pointedly –amusedly- looked at Bete –who looks constipated-, sheepish little Tiona and Tione, and Ais who has been staring at Bell since she read [Liaris Freese] and was definitely not listening to him. Finn looked at Riveria with pleading eyes, who, after a moment of deliberation, smirked at him and turned up her nose for siding with Bete.
'Ohhh~ paybacks a bitch, Finny boy.'
Loki knows that Riveria'll be the first person to make sure that Rabbit is okay. Well, second. Loki isn't one to share.
Finn sighed so dramatically that smirks grew around the table before he brought attention back to the bomb in their hand, "Hm, so we can agree that we'll treat him the same as Lefiya?"
"That's nice and all, but he ain't no mage."
"Oh? Then the five hundred points I see in magic must be hallucination. Of course, this would mean that the magic broken enough to rival Lefiya's is as well. Honestly, what does this kid eat for breakfast?"
"Be a sassy bastard as much as ya want but he only used it twice. If I remember correctly that does not make one a mage, no?" Loki delighted in their bewildered expression. Besides Ais', who is still staring at Rabbit. But the cherry on top was hearing the crack that appeared in Riveria's mind.
"…Twice?" She asked, her voice as close to shaking as she allowed it.
Loki, of course, grinned, "Hel yeah, I forbid him to use it until I could show him off. But cat's outta the bag now." She sighed dramatically, "O' what a shame, what a shame."
"You want me to teach him?"
She smiled, "Not really, but now that you are offerin'…" That was a blatant lie and everyone knew it.
Riveria's eyes narrowed like she wasn't thinking of doing so already. It's too tasty of a bite to pass on. Too much potential not to guide and Loki knows this.
There is a reason she waited for Riveria to check up on Bell.
Unique magic –so similar to Riveria's own-, a will unbending –as the Minotaur and Bete showed them-, honest character, and touchable need to get stronger- better.
Really, the only way Bell could be more appetizing is if he was an elf.
Loki paused, 'Shame that. Wouldn't mind that.'
Although perhaps it's just the world balancing things out.
"Adding him to my squad won't do anything, he is no elf."
She waved her hand, "No problem. I don't want him to be a mage, just teach him how to use his magic decently."
Riveria's eyes narrow again because she won't teach anyone to be just decent but doesn't say anything. This is a battle not only losing, but one that she surrendered from the start.
"Depending on his performance, I accept."
Perhaps Lefiya would like a-
"Oh my- Lefiya's getting a kouhai!"
Loki smirked and leaned back at the sudden chaos enveloping the room after Tione's scream.
However, her attention is pulled by a tug on her sleeve. Looking down, she catches the bewildered eyes of Rabbit.
"What's up?"
"Why?"
"You promised you'd get stronger, remember? That you'd stretch your limits before breaking them into fine dust."
He nodded, the confusion in his eyes not leaving.
"So how are ya supposed to get stronger if ya don't have the tools for it?"
The confusion lessened but he cocked his head.
"I give ya the best teacher ya can get, the rest is up ta ya. Promise made…?"
Determination burned away the last bits of confusion. Although the stars in his eyes that say she just made him the happiest man in the world sent shivers down her spine.
"Promise kept."
She grinned and slapped his back, "That's the spirit!"
Finn coughed and, with his charisma that she is still proud of, quietened the room.
"If we are finished with our rabbit," He sent a smirk-disguised-as-a-smile at the disgruntled Rabbit, "then it is time to plan our next expedition."
Instantly, all of the troublemakers, Riveria, and Gareth sat up. Rabbit sat stiff, both with excitement that she almost smiled at and nervousness. He sent her a questioning look –if he should be here or leave- but she simply shook her head. Finn is her little captain for a reason, if he didn't say anything then that's that.
"Speaking of which, I believe all- pardon me, most of us know that the Hephaestus Familia requested a joint operation. All in vote of accepting it?"
The hands, as usual, raised simultaneously with her own and Rabbit's as an exception. Him simply being nervous –and the unspoken agreement that he doesn't have the clearance to vote yet- and she because it's better to leave these things in Finn's hands. Less work for her.
"Then that's done. I will later iron out the details of the contract later with Riveria and Gareth. Secondly, due to our squeaky new Second String, the battle formations need to be readjusted."
She chuckled at the several groans shared around the table.
"Yes, yes," Finn sighed, "horrible predicament, truly. In light of Bell's general weakness," Rabbit sighed at that, "strong support-type magic, and experience in close combat I propose him to act as a second line of defense for Lefiya."
"Nay." Gareth protested, "The boya needs to be on the front. With his Skill and spirit he'll be level three in no time!"
"The fuckin' old man speaks the truth. Tomato'll won't be ass weak if he's 'bout to die."
"Perhaps you should use your head more, Bete. The close proximity to both the Second Line and the weaker members will receive the full benefits of his magic, cutting down the injury and mortality rates alike."
"Ehhh," Tiona spoke up with so much reluctance that she could taste it, "but I wanna feel awesome again! His magic is sooo warm!"
"Actually," Tiona interrupted her twin's tirade by speaking to Rabbit, "what is your range?"
"I… I don't know?" His embarrassed blush is adorable~
"What, exactly, do you mean that you don't know, student?"
"I- uh- I mean- uh- I don't know? I only used it twice."
Ais spoke up before Riveria-tan could rip her a new one, "Twenty."
"…Ais brings up a good point." Finn nodded, both in agreement and thanks for stopping the resident mom, "we were at least twenty meters away when he used it. I believe it is safe to assume that as a temporary limit. Until we know more, of course."
Riveria narrowed her eyes, then turned to a suddenly very nervous Bell who looked like she expected a scolding, "If I recall correctly you used the two hundred boost variant. [Baldr Afli]."
"Yes, s-sensei!"
"Refer to me as shishou."
"Yes, shishou!"
She nodded, "Good. It means that the effectiveness of your magic doesn't change with distance."
"…oh."
Finn, subtly holding back a snort at the lackluster reaction, cut in, "That is most certainly good news. We just have to figure its range."
Loki could already see Riveria's mind working into an overdrive, compiling everything she'd be teaching Rabbit. She needs to make sure Bell doesn't end up a mage.
"So, we have yet to decide Bell's role. Other ideas?"
"Trial by fire." Bete instantly put it forward, earning a nod from Gareth.
Tione shook her head, "Bad idea. He'll be a liability in the deeper floors."
"An' he won't grow if he a sittin' duck protectin' the princess. All offense, ye olde elf."
"Then let's combine the best of both worlds." Finn physically shifted in between a smug Gareth and seething Riveria, "He'll act as offense until the 24th floor. After which he'll act as Lefiya's guard and all-around support for anyone in his range, whether in magic or something else. Is this acceptable?"
"I'm fine with that." Gareth put up his hand,
Others followed after a moment. Bete, gritting his teeth, joined last. Although she can see that he only put up a front, mostly. He is one to believe that adversity nurtures the soul. And honestly? He is not wrong, especially not with Bell. But even he can't beat Udaeus with sheer guts.
Probably.
'That would be a sight to see…' She imagined the battle and, finding herself liking it, leaned against Bell. She smiled at how he simply shifted to accommodate her.
"Well then! I believe we are done for today?" Finn clapped and stood up.
Several cheers rang out, including hers. She couldn't wait to get out of these meetings. Even if this one was more interesting than usual. She has more important things to do.
Like teasing Rabbit.
"So-"
However, before her fun could begin Tiona interrupted her, "Argonaut-kun! Let's explore!" With that, she snagged her Rabbit's hand and sprinted out of the room, Tione, and Ais hot on their heels.
'Oh you little-'
His hand hurts.
His elbow hurts.
His shoulder hurts.
Actually, his pride is hurt too.
"And this is the cafeteria!" Tiona-san's voice cut through the haze of his mind, especially when she literally kicked the doors open with a resounding thud.
People are looking, oh no.
He will deny hiding behind her until his judgment day.
However, Tione-san –He thought it'd be harder to tell twins apart- cuffed her sister on the head. He has a feeling that blow would've taken his head clean off.
The four of them –the Sword Princess too! That's so cool!- took a seat around one of the tables made for four. As he tried to look anywhere but the people looking at him, he caught the eye of one of the waiters. His eyes widened when he recognized him as one of the people from the kitchen. The waiter –whose name he doesn't remember- rose an eyebrow, pointedly looked at the girls behind him, and gave Bell a wicked grin and a thumbs up.
It took a second to understand.
'It's not like that!' He mouthed at a completely unrepentant and disbelieving waiter.
Something settled on his shoulder, "You know the guy?" Tiona-san's voice, far too close for comfort, sounded beside his ear.
The waiter's grin widened.
"No!" He most definitely did not squeak out, "I mean yes! No- I- wait- ugh." He most definitely did not just give up.
"…So yes or no?" She has no right to sound this amused.
"I- uh- met him this morning-"
"Darn, you work fast rabbit guy." Tione-san chimed in.
"It's not like that! I mean, Gareth kidnapped me this morning and brought me to the kitchen where I shook Purrsdóttir's paw and I was forced to tell the staff the stuff I did in the Dungeon."
A beat of bewildered silence.
"…Sounds nice." Sword Princess spoke up.
That was all it took for the sisters to reboot and laugh simultaneously and identically. Soon, he joined their infectious laughter. He could even see the Sword Princess' lip twitch into a little smile.
"Man," Tione-san gasped out, "first Loki, your weird Skills, then the Minotaur, then kidnapped by the old man. You have one weird life."
"Um, thanks?"
"So," Tione-san suddenly leaned forward, "how does it feel to be the person destroyed Ais' record?"
The aforementioned former record holder's head snapped back to the conversation while the sisters grinned.
He opened his mouth-
And his savior chose that moment to appear.
"Tiona-san, Tione-san, Ais-san, Bell." The waiter, the one with the grin and thumbs, smoothly interrupted the interrogation and nodded at each of them, "What can I get ya?"
"Yo, we'll take whatever Andhrí recommends."
"Gimme the same as Tione."
The Sword Princess nodded alongside the sisters. Then the four of them looked at him and he tried to imagine that he isn't sweating.
"Ah, I'm not hung-" His stomach grumbled in disagreement.
'Traitor!'
"Yeah, you sure aren't." Tione-san rolled her eyes then looked at the decidedly amused waiter, "He'll take the same."
With a nod, another grin, and a thumbs up, he left.
He sighed.
How naive.
"How?" He flinched when the Sword Princess leaned into his personal space with curious eyes, if not curious expression. Completely ignoring the sisters' snickering.
"How what?" He leaned away with burning ears.
"How did you do it?"
He has no idea, "Leveling up?"
She nodded.
"Uh," how did he do that? "I fought monsters a lot."
…that's a horrible explanation.
Nevertheless, she nodded like an enlightened sage.
"And this," Tiona-san spread her arms as wide as her smile was, "is the training yard!"
And it really is.
Bare dirt stretching as far as the fence. Dummies, targets, people sparring, chanting without pause to breathe, and all manners of things belonging to a training yard.
A particular pair of people sparring caught his attention, perhaps due to the crowd around them.
A resounding kick caught the Cat Man, who looked a few years older than Bell, off guard, making him eat some dirt. The hume bunny woman, somewhere along Bell's age, wasted no time attacking the down him.
She didn't expect a hand to catch her ankle.
For a moment Bell could even see the Cat Man grin up at the airborne girl.
'He planned it?' He wondered for a moment before hands encircled his neck.
"Argonaut-kun! Why did you leave us all alone?"
"Eh? Oh no- I didn't- I mean- I."
Before he could make a greater fool of himself, a finger flicked Tiona-san's ear. She, as an obviously sane person, dramatically fell to the ground and wept to high heavens about the unfairness of the world.
Poor Tione-san looks like she doesn't know whether to join or wish that the ground swallowed both of them.
Bell looked away before the second-hand embarrassment killed him. Instead, he refocused on the spar before him.
As he watched them trade blows he noticed something. They are rather…slow. Not that they are weak or unskilled, just slower than he thought they'd be. And yet so many cheer them on-
Wait, no-
His ears burned in embarrassment as he finally noticed that what he thought to be cheers are just people screaming their bets.
Rather than listen to the very detailed description of what a mature lady would do to the Cat Man if he won, he refocused on the fight just in time to see the Hume Bunny girl eat a haymaker to the chin.
'Ouch.' He knows how those feel and, judging by her dazed eyes, it hasn't gotten any better.
"What are you looking at, rabbit guy?"
"It's just that they look so… slow? I don't know how to explain it…"
Tione-san made an understanding hum, "Makes sense, this is your first level up."
"What do you mean Tione-san?"
She shrugged, "You just had a pretty big leap in abilities and it makes the world whacky. And call me Tione."
That makes sense. He even feels much lighter on his feet, even more than after a status update, "But why is only those two that feel slow? I mean, the others do too but-"
"Not as much," She cut in knowingly, "yeah I get it. That's because they are the ones fighting, makes your instincts go haywire and analyze them like a madman. Can't you feel it?"
"Feel wha-"
Ah.
He put a hand to his neck and felt his rapidly beating heart.
That is what she means.
"I guess you get it?" She grinned at him, "The instincts of an adventurer. To make your blood boil at the mention of battle." She sighed wistfully, eyes easily tracking the spar, "Truly, there is nothing like the joy of battle."
The itch in his hand, constant throughout the whole day, worsened with each step. An echoing sound intertwined with the deep crunches of old wood. The cracking of fire slowly faded away with the same speed as the itching came into focus.
His body felt warm, the same kind of warm as going home after a long winter. His every breath produced mist, warping the air with heat.
His fingers twitched, grasping for a handle that isn't there. A specific shape, a memory his muscles shouldn't have. The sparks burned his hand with every hammer hit. Every hair on his arms and back stood, anticipating what is to come. Of what was delayed by two weeks and an eternity at the same time.
His nose twitched, smelling the smoke. The hard metal burning orange. The clogging of his lungs due to the heat and smoke.
His hearing is far away from this world, nearing his destination. The cracking wood on fire fades into the roar of flames that aren't there. Blood screaming in his ears, daring him to stop himself again.
He won't stop though.
His left hand gripped his trophies firmly. Their defeat, his victories, would give him strength. Blood, they may not have but they will his blade nonetheless.
The heavy door opened slowly, the metal screeching. Ominously, like a memory better left forgotten, yet welcomed him readily –eagerly.
The stale air mixed with the barest hint of metal and leather welcomed him home. He breathed in deeply, welcoming the feeling just as much as the forge welcomed him.
Yet, he knew he cannot wait. It is nearing midnight, after the day –'what a day it has been,' he thought with a smile- he went back into his room in the hospital wing. Healing or not, the events of the last two days took a lot out of him.
Yet he could not sleep.
He knew why, the forge's calling is not to be ignored.
And he will not ignore it. He will listen to it completely this time.
The steps fell into shadows, the kind that swallow the light coming from the hallway.
He took a step and his whole body shivered.
Another, and the light illuminated the room.
'Finally,' he sighed, 'it is finally time.'
He ran down the stairs, almost jumping, and filled the forge with coal he nabbed along the way.
He doesn't know what saw it fit to give him this Skill.
He tore out the last pages of an empty notebook. Throwing all but one on the cold coal, he ran out of the room for fire from the hearth.
He doesn't really care either. Whether it came from himself, Loki-sama, or the One-Eyed Raven.
Faster than he thought possible –'thank you, level up'- he returned to the warmth of the forge. Maybe he was imagining it, but he feels warmer in this room than in front of the roaring hearth.
He is thankful anyway.
The fire eating the paper dance in the eyes' reflection. With but a flick of his wrist, he threw it at the cold coal. Moments later the unlit pages caught on fire, spreading across the pile. He lightly blew on it to feed the fire and make it stronger. Seeing that the flame should hold out from now on, he looked around the forge.
His unused hammer is sitting prettily on the anvil to his left. Grabbing the bag full of things that he will forge into his knife-
'Why not make it two?' The thought struck him. Both the finger and the horn are enough for one knife each, and the core is large enough to quench both. Especially since it came from the same Minotaur as the horn.
And he always felt better with two knives in his hand. Shame his trusty trash-knife broke.
He sniffed.
It truly was taken too soon from this world. He only hopes it found a nice place in Valhalla.
Anyway, he needs to prepare. Leaning to the right, he grabbed a tong from its place on the wall. Or, more like its place on the wall. He only has one.
His shoulders sagged, 'One day,' he promised himself, 'one day the wall will be full of tools.'
But today is not the day. No, it is only the beginning.
After putting the tongs on the anvil beside the loot and the hammer, he walked to the corner. Opening the bag full of weapons won on that night, scraps he found in the Dungeon, and many other pieces of steel, he searched for a specific one. As much as he wants to get started on his pair of blades he needs to practice first.
No matter the broken ass –Loki-sama's words- Skill he has.
A journey's beginning is the most important. It is the thing that'll choose the middle and end of it.
And today, he starts his journey.
Finding the sword he has been looking for, he examined it. Scorching it into his memory.
A simple blade, not meant to be used as a primary weapon for anyone that spent more than a week adventuring. Bad balance, boring design, an uneven spine that is the maker's fault, a chipped blade, and a gloomy air around it. A weapon with no purpose, nothing but a practice piece for the blacksmith sold as a last resort.
He knew from the start that something was wrong with it but he never knew why.
Now he does. His Skill filled in what his eye noticed and what his mind didn't.
The sword –if it can be called that- has many flaws. From the creator's lack of creativity to the previous owners' lack of care. And it had many owners, all of them losing and gaining it in the same way. As a chip in a bet.
But one flaw stands out above all. One that causes many others.
The steel. An alloy made from iron and blended with coal. Greater resistance, greater flexibility, endurance, cutting edge, and many more benefits make it one of the best metals for low-grade weapons. The better the creator blends the iron and coal, the better the outcome becomes. Be it a blade, a hammer, or a frying pan.
And yet this blade's balance is so off he is bewildered he didn't notice it before. It holds far too little coal, making it brittle and soft like simple iron. Thus why it lacks a purpose.
He will give it a purpose.
To become his first step.
He quickly popped the handle off, –'How could anyone sell something with such a weak handle?!'- brought it to the quietly burning forge, and placed it on the anvil. The fire is almost ready to start.
He thought for a moment.
'What else do I- Oh!'
He can't believe he forgot!
His head snapped to the quencher just beside the anvil. He sighed a sigh of relief when he saw that it has water in it. One crisis averted.
Then… nothing else. Now he just has to wait.
As he watched the fire dance higher and higher, his mind went wild with ideas. Ever since he got his Skill his perception changed. Every plan, blueprint, idea, and inspiration, he had before felt weak. Pathetic in a way he never thought possible. Now, as if a hand guided his thoughts, he could tell which would work and which wouldn't. How to make it better by simply increasing the heat, what monster drops could be used for what weapons. Combinations, alloys, ideas, shapes, colors, and ephemeral ideas floated around his head like foam on water.
He flinched when the fire almost licked his face.
Okay, he needs to concentrate. He took the sword into his hand and planned how to reforge it. A hand-and-a-half sword that he is supposed to improve and turn into a dagger. He quickly cleaned away everything but his hammer from the anvil.
First, he needs to heat it up.
He thrust it deep into the pile of white-hot coal. He grabbed the air blower and pulled it down. The heat blows out of the forge and right into his face, the fire roaring higher, and the dust flying out. Even with his level two endurance his eyes slightly watered that he quickly blinked away. Before long, his Skill burned on his back and he grabbed the end of the sword with his tongs. The orange-hot steel sparked lightly as it hit the anvil. Firmly holding it in place, he wasted no time grasping his hammer and hitting it-
The metal sang under his touch.
For a moment he forgot himself, not even registering the sparks flying off and burning his skin.
Oh.
Why –oh why!?- did he wait until now!?
This can't even compare to his level-up. Instead of the calm strength that flowed into him, the feeling of finally working metal feels heavenly. Like his blood burns, like the moment of victory, like when he realized he made his Familia proud, like Loki-sama's happiness, like, like-
Like he could take on the world.
His back burned again, and he refocused on the world on the anvil. Not a moment passed since his first hit. And so, he hit again. The sparks flying off burned the hair on his hands pleasantly.
Soon, far too soon in his opinion, he felt that it needs to be put back in. Despite that it can still be easily worked he listened to his instincts and buried it deep in the pile of white coal. Blowing air on it again made the fire almost escape the forge and hold his hand.
Second, he needs to work out the impurities. The flaws left in it.
The sparks flew high, the hits numbing his right arm in a way he is coming to love. Slowly, the metal curled into itself in a wanky circle. He started flattening it out before he felt that it needed to be heated up again.
A minute later he resumed his work. He hit, flattened, tapped, and sweat until the steel was folded in half perfectly.
He buried it back in.
Take it out. Start folding again.
Bury in. Resume folding.
Bury, fold.
Bury, fold.
Bury, fold.
He wiped his forehead and scrutinized every inch of the block of metal that was once a bastard sword. Finding it adequate, he put it back in and blew air on it.
Third, he needs to shape it.
The metal sang every hit. Every time he put it back in the shape changed. From a simple block of purposeless steel into a knife. He worked from handle to tip equally. No hit wasted, no breath misplaced, no overheating, no underheating, no imperfection.
Nothing wasted.
Every hit was filled with purpose that it lacked before. Weapons only have as much soul as the blacksmith puts into them.
Then this blade will be more alive than some people.
No thoughts filtered in his mind, more images than anything. Possibilities of what it could be, would be, and could have been. With every hit, the images solidified before his mind's eye.
Fourth, he needs a clear goal.
It will be simple, one-handed, the end slanted for extra reach. The tip will be half as wide as the starting point but just as strong. Only one side will have a cutting edge. A knife for mainly cutting monsters to ribbons but with the capability to stab.
And so, his hands worked.
After one heavy hit of the hammer, his right arm numbed almost completely. He frowned down at it even as he sat on his stool and waited for the almost-knife to be hot enough. This won't do, if he can't feel every hit then he won't know how to make it better.
So he switched hands and continued.
Fifth, change the end goal into something better.
'No- wait.'
The thought struck him as he worked what would soon become the hand guard. Although his hand didn't stop it moved away from where he is glaring.
What if he made the blade curve in just before the hand guard? Only on the edge side, a sharp cut into the metal. It should be able to catch another blade right? If he flicked his wrist right it should knock it away easier than without that part.
He nodded to himself, 'Then the handle end needs to be stronger.'
Bury, sit on the stool, and think.
'What about the handle?' Hmm, he didn't think of that yet. He looked around the forge while pumping more air into the fire.
Maybe he could use its previous handle?
No, it was weak. Sleazy material and make. This weapon deserves better.
Maybe his other winnings have better handles? It wouldn't take much work…
Not, he needs to make one himself.
From what-
'Ah.'
A memory struck him as he put the knife on his anvil and hammered it.
He remembers finding a lot of softwood blocks. They were probably left here by the previous owner of this room. They should be perfect for this knife.
He smiled to himself and continued working.
With every hit, his blood- nay, his soul sang in tandem with the weapon. It might his imagination but he could feel how it was happy.
Or it might just be him.
After letting it cool down, he grabbed it with his hand and brought it to the grindstone. He kicked the stool in front of it and sat down.
There is only one problem.
He never used it before.
'Okay… I trust you, Skill.'
Taking a deep breath, he understood what he needed to do.
He stood up, grabbed a lonely bucket, and took some water from the quencher. He sat back down, spun the big round slab of sandstone, and used his left leg to pedal it to keep spinning. Slowly, carefully, he doused the stone until its face was wet.
Putting the water down he grabbed his knife and put its edge first on the spinning stone-
And instantly pulled away.
'That's… weird.' A good kind of weird, but weird nonetheless.
Carefully placing it back he didn't pull away this time. He watched, both in focus and fascination, as the sparks flew. It was surprisingly more than when he hammered but pleasant. Checking its other side made his eyes widen because of how much muck disappeared already.
His eyes narrowed, he needs to concentrate on this fully or he'll make a mistake.
First, he needs to clean the blade.
His mind turned blank, barely remembering to breathe as he focused solely on his task. It made a rather odd sound, like continuous hissing. He listened closely, something in his mind telling him that it is important-
'There!'
One edge is done. Even, sharp enough that even looking at it would cut him, and beautiful in a way he is almost sad that it would be tarnished with monster blood and dust.
But this is no ceremonial weapon, no this will fulfill its destiny. It will protect its user, whoever they might be.
Now, for the other side.
Although he needed to wet the stone again halfway through it didn't take long to finish it. Now the entire knife, from tip to end of what will become the handle is squeaky clean, so much so that he can see the forge's fire dance in it.
He tugged a piece of hair from his head and turned the edge up. Letting go of the strand just above the edge he watched it dance in the air and fall on the sharp edge.
And be cut perfectly.
He smiled to himself but his legs didn't stop. He still has things to do. Nodding to himself he put it buried it back in the white-hot coal.
As he watched it slowly heat up a realization struck him. And he almost struck himself with it.
The reason he is heating the metal back up is to give it heat treatment. As it is, it is not battle ready yet. Far too brittle, it would break after a single hit.
Heat treatment, as he read in a book, is basically toughening up the material. Depending on the material used, heat it until it is mellow enough to shape, then cool it down rapidly. There are as many methods as people, but water is used most of the time. The very reason the quencher –which holds the water- is so close to the anvil is to make the process fast.
The reason he cleaned the blade before the heat treatment is that it's easier.
But after this, he needs to clean it again. There is no problem with that.
He should have made the edge, then heat treat it, and then clean the blade.
'Next time.' He promised himself and his eyes flickered to the corner full of weapons ready to be remade.
'Next time.'
The morning started with chaos.
"Where is he?!"
"Holy fucking-"
"Get the fuck off-"
"Bell-"
Finn is used to chaos.
Thus, he simply took a seat next to Loki on the balcony and took one of her pancakes. She glared at him for a moment before eagerly looking down at the chaos in the courtyard.
They watched as the awake people scrambled to find their missing brother. And those not awake on this ungodly hour?
Gods may help them all.
"How did this happen again?" He mused, half to himself and a half to her.
"Well," He doesn't see the grin but he can hear it, "Mama Riveria went to wake him up."
"You got me."
"But he wasn't there. So she came to my office to yell at me."
"Poor you."
"Poor me." she echoed sagely, "But he wasn't with me either. But she didn't notice that. So mama came in scorching hot and scolding me while I was talkin' with the girls-"
"You spelled 'perving out on them' wrong."
"I was talkin' with them. But the girls went into a frenzy about Rabbit and how someone must've kidnapped 'im or somethin'. So Tiona blasted of my door and went huntin' like a bloodhound."
"…I see. What about the door?"
She waved a negligent hand before whistling down at an excellently executed suplex, "I sent a kiddo to get me one from that old bastard Goibnu."
He hummed-
"Children."
A chilling voice had him straightening in his seat, pancake half-forgotten in his mouth.
"Ah, Mama is here."
He nodded, watching with sympathy as Riveria tore the troublemakers a new one. That didn't stop him from asking a question.
"So where is he?"
She hummed, smiling at the epic-level scolding going on, "Probably back home." She answered wistfully.
He leaned back. There are not many places Loki calls home. Much less that would elicit this kind of emotion from her.
"…You gave the hideout to him."
"I did," She nodded and her voice filled with something incredibly sharp, "Problem?"
He thought for a moment but, "No, not really." He decided, "I'm more surprised than anything but I trust your judgement."
"Good answer."
"But why did he go back? In the middle of the night at that."
She shrugged, "He probably doesn't like this place. Too many people an' all that."
"I thought you, of all people, would want him to stay the most."
"It would be nice." She conceded around a bite, "But I didn't really expect anythin' else. Plus," she grinned at him from the corner of her eye, "this place doesn't have a forge."
It took him a moment to understand why that is important, "That Skill of his, the other broken one." She snorted, "I've never seen anything like that. [Hvítr Járnsmiðr] was it?"
"The White Iron-Smith, huh." She muttered to herself so quietly he isn't sure he was meant to hear it, "Ya shouldn't have either. I can't decide which is worse if it got out."
"Hephaestus would kill for something like that."
"She wouldn't be the only one."
"He will change things, won't he?"
"Of course he will. That's what I'm hopin' for."
A floorboard creaked with every hasty step. But she cared not, pacing is the only way she can hold herself back from blasting the door off.
'Well..' she looked at the heavy metal door, 'not the only thing.'
Not that it is tough. Nah, she wouldn't even have to really try to break it. She could just straight-up punch through it without a shred of pain.
But, her arms turned into a mess of goosebumps, something tells her that it would be a Bad Idea.
Besides her goddess' eyes that she can feel watching her from the living room.
It's not really like her to put much thought into things. It always makes her head hurt. Listening to her feelings is perfectly fine, it has been and it will be.
But dammit! She wanted to talk more with Argonaut-kun! But noooo, he left in the middle of the night and locked himself in here. She didn't even know they have another house! She doesn't like this place either. It feels… sad. Sad in the way that Riveria looked at it.
No, she doesn't like this place. It gives her the creeps.
So then why did Argonaut-kun need to lock himself in here? The Twilight Manor is so much better! More people, more fun!
She sighed, freshly bored with pacing, and sat down right in front of the door and crossed her legs on the floor. She blew away hair bangs before they got into her eyes.
'I should cut it.' She mused to herself. Groaning, she propped her head on her hands and looked down at her ankles with closed eyes. Focusing on her hearing let in the sound she filtered out until now.
The sound of a craftsman working. A blacksmith, specifically.
She heard it before, when she brought a new weapon in person, when she tried to sleep in her tent, during an expedition when she visited her friends from the Hephaestus Familia. She heard these sounds so many times before.
She doesn't like them. They grate on her like nothing else.
But… this is nice. She never thought she would ever say this about a hammer hitting metal, but she could almost fall asleep to it. The cracking fire, the cozy heat radiating across the door, the sound of measured footsteps, the metal on metal, wood being cut, and so many more.
'Kinda like an orchestra.' She smiled to herself.
Yes, that's the word she has been looking for. An orchestra. She has been to two entire concerts -courtesy of Riveria when they wandered into Orario. The first time has been with her sister, Ais, Riveria, and Finn. Lefiya would have liked it. Probably.
The second time she was strong-armed into it by Riveria.
It was more boring than a lecture. Honestly.
But this? The violin was replaced by a hammer, the flutes turned into cracking flames, and the trumpet into a grindstone. And the conductor is Argonaut-kun.
Without the funny suit.
'Just what is taking him so long?'
It has been… a long time since the last time she stepped into this house.
Some nostalgia can be excused after so long. It surely is better than being on the verge of tears.
Although she likes the relative silence.
"Fuck-" Something broke.
The urge to sigh has never been stronger.
She filtered out the noise that accompanies her wherever the top of her Familia goes. Instead, she focused on the other large source of the noise.
The forge.
To be honest, if only in the privacy of her own mind, she forgot about that. She rarely spent time there, or with the people that once used it religiously –she pushed down her regret. So to see –hear- it being used again is a strange feeling. Nostalgia mixed with hints of annoyance.
And now she remembers why she put a ban on having one in the manor.
Although… she couldn't put it into words but this time the normal grating noise of it felt almost pleasant. Pleasant in the way the usual clatter around her was.
She focused her hearing just in time to hear Tiona sit down close by, perhaps in front of the door. Her heartbeat calmed significantly from what it was this morning.
Her eyebrows furrowed, really that child. Making such a ruckus.
The less said about the cause of the ruckus the better. Really, what was he thinking? Leaving in the middle of the night? Especially in his state, she might have healed him, and the level-up enhanced that, but he should still be in bed.
And not heavily working in a room full of smoke and heat.
If it wasn't for Loki-
'Hm?' Her thoughts halted, 'Did she just-'
"Tiona fell asleep." Her voice cut through the curious chatter in the room. She opened her eyes and quickly caught Tione's, "Could you pick her up? I don't want her to catch a cold."
"Sure mum!"
"Don't call me-" Before her words finished Tione grabbed Ais –who was mid-bite into her jagamarukun- and dashed down the hall, Bete hot on their heels –to cause trouble if his grin is anything go off of.
She glared after the three before her eyes softened.
"Ya sure like bein' a ma, huh? Ye olde elf."
"Stop speaking before you lose the ability to."
Gareth, the bastard that he is, only grinned and sipped his beer.
'Where- no wait, when did he get that?'
"It has been a while since all four of us was here, huh?" Finn mused to himself, entirely unconcerned about the situation.
"Aye, I drink to that." And he did.
However, she is not easily fooled, "All of us? You say that like you were here."
"Sharp as ever, Riveria. While Bell was sleeping I asked around the manor but no one knew him. After some extremely smart, if I do say so myself deductions," he smiled serenely, she deadpanned, and Loki and Gareth chuckled into their ale, "I arrived on the conclusion that he lives here."
"No one knew him in the manor?" She turned her righteous glare at Loki who whistled innocently, "You isolated him? Just so you can prank us?" She felt the lid on her temper tremble, "A complete rookie who barely arrived in the city and with no help from the older members. It's a miracle he didn't-" her tirade was cut off by Loki's hand before it could truly begin.
"I know, Riveria-tan." That infernal nickname made her eyes twitch, "I understand what ya are tryin' to say. But he likes it like this-"
"An excuse like 'Liking it like this' is not going to save his life-"
"Riveria." She straightened in her seat and she caught her friends doing the same in the corner of her eyes, "You don't know the full story, aye? Rabbit's trust has been toyed with, the only reason he trust me is 'cause he almost worships the fuckin' ground I walk on."
She hesitated for a moment, both of what Loki revealed and recalling the stars in Bell's eyes whenever he looked at Loki.
Or just remembering the scene she stumbled upon last morning.
She sighed deeply a hand massaging her temple, "I don't like this. But I trust your judgement."
"So," Finn leaned forward to change the topic, "when will he be done? I admit I'm curious to see his other Skill in action. And we mustn't forget about his lessons. Right, Riveria?"
She waved her hand, "I expected to wait until tomorrow. If he doesn't come out until then…" She didn't need to say anything else.
"I dunno," Loki brought attention to herself, "Rabbit's been obsessed with it. When he wasn't playin' in the Dungeon or playin' with me he's been there. Hel, I saw him sleep there!"
"Ho? Why's that?"
She shrugged, the ale in her mug swishing dangerously, "No idea. He swore somethin' to himself to only use it once he a Level 2 or somethin'. I say his patience got a rewarded, aye?" She grinned and raised her cup.
As expected, Gareth laughed and raised his own, "Cheers to that." And downed it in one gulp.
Credit where it is due, dwarves' alcohol tolerance is legendary. Much like their enjoyment of it.
She leaned back in her chair –the one that was hers so many years ago- and listened to the hearth's quiet, but sure, fire. She let the idle chatter flow through her, finally giving in to the nostalgia.
She never knew it would be so nice to be back home.
Loki watched the fire idly dance. One hand propped her head, the other swirling wine in its glass. Tonight she forwent the bottle, deciding to feel elegant.
She kinda feels like a badass villain now. All she needs is a white cat in her lap.
Or maybe a white rabbit.
They bring luck, don't they?
Oh well, at least as she waits she can think. Especially about the day.
The rest of her kids left a few hours ago, thus leaving her to wait for her other kid. Fortunate thing, it wasn't once that she had to stop one, or more, of them before they could kick down the forge's door. She talked a lot and fast today. Though some of them had to be glared into submission.
What is their problem anyway? They couldn't get him out of there anyway.
No, Rabbit is a man on a mission. He will either come out himself or collapse. She pegs it'll be the latter. Oh well, there is a reason she stayed. From here she can tell if he stops moving around. If she needs to come to the rescue.
It was a long time coming that he finally fire up the forge. A surprise that he didn't immediately do that after getting that Skill of his.
She threw her head back and groaned pleasantly, 'and what a skill it is.'
Finn doesn't know how right he was when he said Hephaestus would kill for that. She can't decide which is more broken, [Liaris Freese] or [Hvítr Járnsmiðr].
But the latter's description made her mind run wild. Especially the second line.
'The user can temporarily use skills relating to creation of items.'
She wants to know those limits. The description said skills, so can he use Developmental Abilities like Blacksmith or Mystery? Metalworking, Woodworking, Carving, or anything else? Or Hel, even that demented Crozzo Blood? What about magic? There is a surprising amount of magic just for enchanting items, or even creating them. Can he use those?
There are no limits. Only Bell himself.
But is he really a limit at all? She knows his type, no matter what he does he will become great. Adventurer or carpenter, it matters not. He is just that kind of a person.
And if she adds [Liaris Freese] to that?
She moaned aloud.
'He really is my favorite~'
She looked away from the fire and instead stared at the slowly swirling wine in her hand.
It is time to plan the future.
Bell is as much a blessing as he is a curse for now. Should even a whisper be known about him Orario will slowly fall into chaos like a domino. Even for one Skill- Hel even for his magic people would try to get him. Her Children know this and will make sure nothing gets out before it's time.
Her Familia needs to get stronger. Now more than ever.
That is why he is a blessing.
Two weeks and three days. That's how long it took him to obliterate Ais' record. And now he will get the full support of his Familia as she had so many years ago. There is no telling how far he'll go in even half a year.
And what about the things she doesn't know yet. More Skills, better equipment, greater magic, and who knows what else?
And if he manages to make high-class equipment? Something approaching Desperate, or Urga, or Zolas, or Fertia Spear? Weapons regularly costing more than one hundred million valis?
"Eh- Loki-sama?"
Her head snapped to the right only to see-
"Pff- you- pf- you got some face on your grime, Rabbit!"
He blinked dumbly before raising a hand mussing up the muck coating almost the entirety of his face. He looked down at his equally dirty hand before he blushed and rushed to the sink. At least she assumed he blushed, even his ears were entirely black!
She laughed as he splashed water on his face and tried to scrub it off.
"Better?" He turned around, giving her a delicious view of his blush.
"Wash your hair too."
He turned back, blush darkening, and tried to wash the grime out. It was at that moment that she notice his rather distinct lack of shirt. A smile formed on her lips when she noticed the grime coating his rather visible muscles.
'Mm, he filled out nicely.'
She licked her lips, she was definitely not telling him that. What if he put on a shirt?! No no, she's going to enjoy this view.
"By the way, good mornin' Rabbit."
"Eh?" He, apparently satisfied, looked back at her with swept-back wet hair. It looks surprisingly good on him, "Has it only been that long?" He looked out of the window, noticing the rising sun on the verge of breaking the horizon.
"Rabbit," she didn't even try keeping the amusement out of her voice, "you've been in there for 27 hours straight."
…
"Oh."
Oh indeed.
"So that's why I'm so hungry?"
She snorted and beckoned him closer, "C'mon, I've got some killer sandwiches here."
He wasted no time jumping beside her. She watched, morbidly fascinated, as he wolfed down the five sandwiches that remained after her kiddos got hold of them.
After his last bite, he leaned back with a satisfied smile and closed his eyes.
"So, wassup Rabbit? Had fun?"
He smiled wide but didn't open his eyes. Instead, he reached down to his belt and unclipped a simple leather sheath from his belt.
She hummed as she accepted it before it turned into an impressed whistle as she unsheathed it a little. Taking it completely out, she scrutinized the workmanship. Although there wasn't much to be seen, simple wooden handle, simple blade, and simple design. Brutally efficient, the kind that gets the job done. She twirled it in her hand, finding the balance to be perfect. Flicking it up, she caught it by its handle. Her hands are a bit small for it but whoever it was made for will find it perfect.
She lived long enough to know what separates the talented smith from everyone else.
It is not how destructive the weapon is, not how long or short it took to make it, not how pretty it is, nor how useful it is.
It's how alive the weapon is. How much purpose it has, and how aware of it is.
And this little knife twirling in her hand? She can feel its pride even unblooded.
Somewhere along the line Rabbit opened his eyes and watched with both nervousness and hidden pride.
"I's pretty good, Rabbit." She praised 'cause it really is good. Probably what he's been working on for so fuckin' long.
His entire body shagged and he sighed in relief, "Thank you Loki-sama. I know it is a little crude for a first attempt-"
'First-'
"-but I'm glad you like it!" Stars appeared in his eyes, if he had a tail it would be waging furiously now.
"Eh, uh- yeah," she cleared her throat, "just for reference, is this gonna be your main?"
"Eh?" He tilted his head in confusion and she had to keep herself from squealing, "No? Do you want me to show them to you?"
"Hel yeah."
And he already started walking back to the forge. She only hopes he doesn't start again before she can get her answers. Scratch making Fertia Spear, he'll make something better!
As she played with the –as she found out- very sharp knife he came back with two other sheaths. This time she could notice their design from far away.
Both were made from wood, and she could spot the runes painstakingly carved into them. As he, with shaking ends filled with anticipation and a moment of hesitance, placed them into her hands. The runes, the same as the ones scattered around the house, mean many different kinds of protection. Although they seem to be inactive, either he just meant it as decoration or he just doesn't know they can actually function as an enchantment. Besides that, the sheath was simple if beautiful, wood. It must be noted that the make was so smooth that she almost didn't notice where the handle had begun.
She looked back up at Rabbit, giving him the last chance to take them away, but she instead noticed how he lightly sway on his feet. She almost rolled her eyes when he tried to look awake.
"C'mon," She patter her legs, "rest lil' Rabbit."
Either she was wearing down on him or he was more tired than she thought but he complied. He looked up at her with tired but excited eyes. She smiled as she noticed his legs lolling over the armrest of the sofa.
She stared down at her little Rabbit, an eyebrow raised. He stared back, a small and tired smile and quiet pride shining in his eyes. The kind of pride that follow creators after a job well done.
Finally listening to her screaming curiosity she popped the one in his left hand –the one with a little curve- while placing the other one on his bare stomach.
"Woah…" She couldn't decide between a catcall and a sigh of genuine awe so both of them came out, "Well, hello there pretty girl."
She unsheathed the entirety with an extremely satisfying sound and stared at it with wide eyes. An entirely black blade with only the slightest hints of purple, especially at the edge, looked back at her. Only one side was sharpened but she could see her breath being cut in half. Her reflection in the clean –unblooded- blade caught her attention. With a little start and a blush, she closed her mouth. She twirled it in her hand and made some cutting motions in the air. The air whistled under the blade. She could almost imagine the weapon giggling fill the room.
There is…something familiar about it.
"Woah…" she repeated because this deserved it. This- it's almost like holding one of Tsubaki's lesser works. Although it doesn't compare to masterpieces like her executives' main weapons.
But if a level two wanted to buy something like this?
They'd have to dig into their pockets so deep they'd be halfway to Rivira!
She snapped out of her haze and looked down at Bell, who looks mightily proud at her reaction.
"Ya made this."
"I did."
"Holy shit Rabbit."
He hummed happily and buried himself closer to her.
Returning to her examination she notices a few more little details. Like how there seem to be minuscule deep purple cracks running down the blade, or the lack of a sigil on anyone on the knife.
"What about markin' it?"
"Huh?"
"Ya know, markin' it as yours. Signature as a blacksmith an' all that."
"Oh. I didn't think of that."
She snorted because of course he wouldn't. But oh well, she'll think about that later.
For now, she has another pretty blade to stare at.
Putting the sheath and knife down on the table, she pulled the other one closer to her eyes. The sheath looks the same as the previous one.
She slowly unsheathed it, producing an identical sound to the last.
"Whoa…" She let out for the third time now. She's getting annoyed at herself.
Where the other was purplish-black this one is all the colors of dawns. However… that's where the differences end. Even when she compared both handle side-to-side she couldn't find any difference between the two besides the obvious.
"Twin daggers, huh?" Her reflection muttered.
"Well," he scratched his cheeks, "they are more along the lines of tantos. At least that's what the book said."
"Is that so?"
But now that she is holding both there is something-
"You enchanted them?" She whispered.
He nodded in her lap. Like he hadn't done what takes at least several years for a talented smith in less than two days.
Now that she knows she can feel the connection between them. An unbreakable bond made of the strongest chain. Twins. And an enchantment that only activates when someone holds both of them.
"A passive one- no wait active….?" Her eyes widened as realization struck her and whispered, "No… a passive enchantment with an activation condition of holding both."
He hummed again, and her hands subconsciously found his hair in wonderment.
"You are officially awesome, Rabbit."
He laughed, his voice filled with both embarrassment and satisfied exhaustion.
"So," She leaned down close enough that his hitched breath tickled her cheeks, "what are the pretty ladies names?"
He blinked rapidly, trying to process the question before the single largest blush she has ever seen overtook his face. From ear to ear, from shoulder to nose, blood rushed to his face so fast it is a surprise he has yet to faint. He stuttered something incoherent for an entire minute before finally giving up and looking away.
He hasn't moved from her lap though. Small victories.
She ruffled his hair, making his eyes snap to hers for a moment before averting.
Softer, far softer than she spoke to anyone else in years, she whispered, "Do you want me to name them, Bell?"
His breath hitched, evidently caught red-handed, before nodding meekly.
Like he didn't just ask her to name his masterpieces. His proudest works.
Like this isn't an honor for her to name them.
"Well," She began, running her hand through his wet hair, "you've been working hard on it day and night, right? From dusk 'til dawn."
He nodded.
"Then that'll be their name," she held up the red dagger to him, handle first, "Dawn," Then she help up the purple-black blade, "Dusk. Dawn and Dusk, the Twin Blades of Bell Cranel. Got a nice ring to it, aye?" She grinned down at his star-struck face.
"Yeah," he gulped, "they- yeah." He gingerly gripped their handles, twirling them in his hands with enviable ease, "Dusk… and Dawn, Huh?" He smiled down at them proudly, "Thank you, Loki-sama!" A smile so bright that for a moment she believed she gave him the whole world appeared on his face.
'Ah~'
She leaned back down and placed a kiss on his forehead, earning herself a delectable blush.
'Stupid Bell~, stop doing this. What if I fall deeper?'
And… cut!
Happy Holidays! Good luck with your New Year's oaths.
Man, this chapter fought me! Especially the first half before the forging scene. But I think y'all can tell. I think this chapter is a bit weak… though I hope you are satisfied with it?
Tehehehe~
So, how did you like the meet between Bell, Loki, and the executives? I'm pretty unsatisfied with it and I think its easy to tell. Apparently it's hard to write scenes with a lot of characters… who'd have thought? Also, I feel like I made Riveria a bit of a bitch. But I swear she just wanted the best for him! Mama Riveria forever!
Anyway, did you like the forging scene? Do you think I should do more, less, or something with it? As it is know I'm only planning to show bits of when he makes the most important weapons (AKA the ones for the major characters) but if enough of you dear reader-sans ask I can include some more. Also, did I do your expectations justice?
Some of you might be questioning (or already asked me) if Bell will live in the manor or not. And the answer is that I lean towards not. But don't worry! That doesn't meant that the executives will get sidelined! I'm planning to make the Hideout into something of a resting place for them. Like that friend's house where you are always welcome
Most of you probably noticed the little bit at the end about enchanting and all that. Well I guess you all have questions about that.
And the answer is that canon is vague as fuck about magic weapons, items and cursed thingies and all that!
So I decided to overhaul it somewhat. No, I won't take constructive criticism. More info coming the next chapter.
Please drop a comment, it gives life. Okay?
Author, out!