The boy was no more than five years old when he understood magic. Out with his Father, on the terrace of their quaint little home, watching the night sky as it passed by. He had yet to grasp most things in the world. He was a kind, friendly child who greeted every inch of life so that there was never an unlit path towards his heart. The boy waved to the world, but the world did not wave back to him. No matter. On most days, it was the boy and his father, though more often than not it was really just the boy. He had no mother. That did not bother him, because what was there to be sad about? He had not known her, so he did not miss her.
Although the boy did not have anyone, he was not alone. The Fortunate Man had a child of his own, no more than his age, and she too wandered in life without someone to wave to. Despite her fear of the unknown, the boy had promised her that there was nothing to be afraid of. At least, not when she was around him. He raised his hand in the air and waved her way, and for the first time in his life… someone waved back.
Every morning as the sun rose, he would meet her at the bottom of the steps that stretched into the stars and together they would play, hand in hand. They got into more trouble than what was worth, but the world never troubled them. After all, it was their world. Everyone else was just living in it. At least, that's how either of them felt.
"Say," The girl said, sitting in a field of daisies. Her dress was completely stained head to toe, but she didn't care. No one at her age ever did. "What is your dad like?"
"I don't know." The boy shrugged. "He hasn't told me."
"My dad and your dad work a lot." The girl replied, picking at a daisy. "Your dad is scary."
"He is?" The boy asked, rolling around.
"Mhm." She said, "Are you scary?"
"Nuh-uh." He shook his head. "I will never be scary."
"Why?" She asked.
"Because I'm not a monster."
"Is your mom scary?" She asked.
"I don't have a mom." The boy replied. "But I was a miracle."
"A miracle?"
"That's what my dad calls me." The boy said. "What about your mom?"
"She left." She finished plucking the flower. "My dad says all we need is each other. But my mom was beautiful, he says. The most beautiful woman ever. I want to be like her, and like my dad!"
"Get me a flower." She ordered.
That night, the boy waited patiently for his father to come home. He waited hours, and hours. Nothing, and the sun was gone. Still, he waited. As he was drifting off into the clouds the door opened, and there was the boy's father. Surprised that he wasn't in bed, his father ushered him to his room, as he did every single night since he could walk.
Tonight was different. Tonight the boy asked about his mother. At first, his father was silent. So, the boy asked again. What was his mother like? There was a long bit of nothing as the boy's father struggled to gather the millions of pieces of his heart that had just shattered and collapsed deep into his stomach.
The boy helped his father put it back together. Once it was good enough, and not perfect, because a perfect heart does not exist - only a heart that hangs on in spite of its imperfections, he took him by the legs and carried him to the terrace. There were a million stars out there.
It was an ocean of bright lights, all shining down on the two of them. "Who is my Mother?"
"Do you see the stars?" The father asked. "Which one is the most beautiful?"
"That one." The boy picked out a random one.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." The boy said.
"That is your Mother."
"Why is she over there?"
"Because she is gone. She cannot be here."
"How can she be gone and over there?"
"Magic." His father answered. "Your Mother is not here, but she is out there - watching down over the both of us. I speak to her when I am alone."
"You aren't alone." The boy said, pinching at his father's face. "I am here."
"Yes, and so is she."
"Can I see her?" The boy asked.
"No. I wish you could, but we can't." He said. "As long as you believe in magic, my son, she will never leave us. She will remain with you forever."
It was then that the boy understood. Magic comes from the heart, and it connects the lone dot to everything else in the world. As long as he had magic, then he would never be alone. No matter how many people left, the boy would never be alone, as long as he had magic.
When he understood magic, the boy began to cry, because he came to realize before then he missed his mother.
A sea of clouds caught his rested eyes. Several leagues of blue boasted around him, dancing to the tune of shifting tones. He tried to speak, but no words came out. Where was he? He couldn't remember his name, nor how he ended up here.
Have you forgotten?
A voice, though it had no sound. The words strolled along the air, wrapping around his mind and pleading for him to listen. Has something terrible occurred?
Our promise, have you forsaken it?
No, he didn't think so. Was he the type of man who would let others down? That didn't sound like him. Then again, no knowledge of who he is remains in his grasp. Please, you have to understand: I am here, but I am in the dark. What have I done? Did I hurt you, or did you hurt me?
If I did, would you find it in your heart to forgive?
The bed of fluff swirling around his feet twisted and turned, perverting its outer edges into sharp, razor-like branches. The sky darkened, and the sun was no longer present. The dark, ghastly moon shimmered down onto his figure; casting a deep, haunting spotlight that gave him nowhere to turn to. Despite the darkness around him dissipating, he wished that there was a hole to hide in, so that the world would not have to bear witness to his ugliness.
Weren't you going to save me?
A path of gravel carved itself beneath him, echoing in low, raspy whispers he was unable to make out. It curved in grating spirals. Beckoning the man to come closer, he apprehensively shifted across the ground. Sharp stones lined themselves between his toes, cutting into his skin with each step. He kept moving in spite of the pain. Curiosity called the cat, but would it kill it?
Closer, hero.
Hero? An unfitting title. The phonetic clause, a formation of howls that stamped their curses among his skin with each simple flick of the tongue. Where are you? I can't see you past any of this fog.
Forward. Why are you doubting yourself?
He isn't. He wants to be certain.
Are you without trust?
You don't sound like you're supposed to. Why aren't you being honest with me? Didn't we promise that to one another?
A moment's words can be broken with actions that last a lifetime. Are you certain this is me?
Who else could it be? I'm not talking to myself here. The man comes across a clearing. The trees behind him close off the exit, and he's forced to stand before a giant. It's another tree, but much wider than the others. It stands alone, and is ancient. It is the guardian of this place, or perhaps the predator. Could this be what he was being led towards?
Hello.
Hello. Who are you?
Don't you recognize me?
The bark on the tree warped itself, and from the inner regions emerged a young woman. She had a pale face, and long black hair.
Why are you surprised?
He could no longer communicate with her.
Am I beautiful?
He remained silent.
Say it.
Say it.
Nothing.
Say it.
Out of anger, or sorrow, the tree bursts into flames!
Weren't you going to save me?
He couldn't move. The air around him grew warmer.
Save me, save me!
A match with ignition, he was lit on fire. He screamed, but no one could hear him.
Why won't you save me?!
He screamed. She could hear him.
SPIRAL PRISON - 11PM
"Haruto…?" Who is calling to him now? Everything was a barren, dark haze. One by one, the gears in his head began to turn. It hurt. It all really, really hurts. Even moving his neck was a monumental task. Around him were frigid, sharp walls chiseled down towards the core so that no prisoner would ever forget the sensation of restlessness while they dared to press their head against a false sheet of release. "Please, wake up."
"K-Koyomi?" He asked.
"No," The voice became clearer. "It's me, Shunpei."
"Mm, give me five more minutes, will you?" Haruto fought against the throbbing pain in his back as he shifted his weight.
"He's awake." Shunpei let out a sigh of relief. In a matter of minutes, things became clearer. There were several figures in the cell. Way too many for them to be their standard group locked down here. It was still difficult to regain precision in his vision, but give it some time. Take it slow, and keep moving. If you do that, you'll overcome it. At least, that's what he hoped. Speaking of hope, he was pretty much out of it right now. All that occupied his mind was a lingering worry, and the thoughts of the unknown that lay in front of him, but remained out of his grasp.
"Careful, boy." Another voice. Far raspier than his friend's, and spoken like a balloon that had deflated. "You aren't in any state to be moving. Matter of fact, I'm surprised you're still alive." It was the Emperor. Or, former Emperor.
"Why… are you…" He trailed off, struggling to keep conscious.
"What did I just say?" His faithful companion, Shunpei, caught him just in the knick of time. "Have you no patience, young man?"
"Sorry," Haruto muttered in a grouchy tone towards the Emperor. "I forgot to pack that." He wasn't exactly in the mood for being lambasted right now. Aside from the obvious pain in every area of his body, he was exhausted. It was like all the energy he could contain was completely drained, and any reserves were non-existent. He couldn't recall being this tired before, ever. Not since he first conquered his own phantom.
As though a primal sensation, his heart skyrocketed into oblivion once the memories started flowing back in. "Where's Koyomi?!"
"Um…" Shunpei didn't want to answer that. He felt a hand snag onto his collar, pulling him towards the hero.
"Oi, oi." Haruto barked. "Speak up."
Reluctantly, Shunpei directed him to the end of the cell. Smothered in Rinko's arms was the girl. Eyes closed, and limp. She was lifeless, and held tightly to his friend's heart. Without a moment to spare, Haruto leaped towards her. He was so terrified that he wasn't able to feel the throbbing pain drilling into his head. Examining her close, he searched for any sort of wounds. None were apparent.
"We got down here.. And within minutes she…" Rinko tried to speak, but was too caught up in her own emotions to continue.
"She's out of magic." Haruto said, a huge weight being lifted off his shoulders. He was relieved, to say the least. As he does daily, he directed her hands towards his waist; placing her palm on his driver.
ERROR.
"What?" He tried again.
ERROR.
His heart sank into his stomach. Again, and again, again he tried. This wasn't possible, he should at the very least have one reserve of magic left.
"Try as much as you like, boy." The Emperor called out to him. "Down here, your efforts are fruitless." He sighed, fiddling with a tiny rock in his hands. It slipped between the cracks of his fingers. Fitting, guess he couldn't even command a pebble to stay in his grasp.
"Why's that?!" Haruto turned back to him, starting to see red wherever he went. "You have a lot of explaining to do, don't you know that – ?!" He tripped over himself, collapsing by the man's feet. The Emperor gazed down at him, only pitiness present in his eyes.
"Would it make a difference if I told you?" The Emperor rested his head against the jagged walls. "We're all going to die down here, nonetheless."
"Sir." Gorou interjected. It was now that the large rock buried in the dark made his presence.
"Am I mistaken?!" He asked with a sharp tongue. "It's what he intends." The former general agreed, slumping back into his hunched position within the corner of the cell.
"So, that's it then?" Haruto got to his feet. "Give into despair? Just to roll over and watch each other die… I'm not going to stand for that."
The Emperor laughed. "Look around. What do you see?! A chasm of nothing!" He threw his arms in the air, begging him to set his expectations back to ground zero where they belong. "A pit of emptiness! We are in hell!" His now shrewd voice carried through the abyss, but for all his might, no one could hear him scream. "Better to accept our fate now then to give power to our own delusions. Peace is sanctioned only by acceptance of our shackles."
"Save your speech." Haruto replied. "Haven't you hurt enough people already?!" The man approached the Emperor with no intent to stand down. If it meant a fight, then he was willing to tear his own heart out if he could get a proper answer. "Your silence is the reason all of this has happened. The reason that my friends are suffering, and if one more person is harmed because of you I'll…"
"What can you do?" The Emperor smirked. Outside of our hero's sight, he called off the General. There was no threat standing in front of him. Only an angsty, young magician who held no grip on the reality of their dreadful situation.
Haruto clenched his fist, fighting against two sides of him that were being pulled in opposite directions, and neither was winning. His arm shook violently, writhing in rage that only clawed deeper into his heart with every moment that he chose to remain neutral. All roads lead to releasing his fist , but at what cost? Would choosing this fight only dig their hole deeper? What kind of hope would he be if he stooped to their level and forsook his convictions at his worst point? Not much of a hope at all.
"I'll make sure you never see the sun again." Haruto backed off. Much to his surprise, the Emperor ushered him to sit down.
"In your lowest moments, you still amuse me, young Dragon…" The Emperor said. "Well, I figure there is no harm in telling you. Nothing will change whether I ramble or not."
"What's wrong with me?" Haruto asked. "I can't use my magic, and I feel like I've ran a marathon."
"Aside from your brutal loss at the hands of that conqueror, you - like the rest of us, are under the effects of this prison." The Emperor glanced around. "Magic is impossible to produce down here."
"You have to be kidding me…" Haruto muttered.
"Afraid not." He shook his head. "Generations ago, after the crumbling of the first regime, Celestice Island was a mass of chaos. Mages with no regard for their destructive power ran rampant. Scum of all kinds ruled this place. With an ocean of untapped potential in the hands of dangerous sorcerers, our home was doomed to fall into despair. It was hopeless. Either way, the sea would be red in blood whether it be the commoners who soaked it, or the monsters that were vying for power." As he told the story, he grew more weary in his voice. Though he didn't want to continue, he felt he owed it at this point. "Fortunately, there was a solution to avoid such heinous bloodshed. My forefathers, choosing to settle in this deadland region because there was nowhere else to go, discovered this gigantic mass. What was interesting, aside from its depth, was the peculiar reaction it had to magic."
"Peculiar how?" Haruto asked.
"These walls are made of a strange material. It absorbs magic. Very little, if almost none at all, can be utilized." The Emperor continued. Haruto intently listened. "So, with whom my family could gather, they fought valiantly against the resistance and eventually wore them down within this region after tricking them into these lands by besmirching their pride. Those who could no longer fight were cast into this hole, and we established the empire that ruled until today." He raised his head and glared at the young magician, who didn't know what to make of this tale.
"You have to understand, the peace we hold close to our hearts is only possible by our extensive efforts to control the magnitude of magic. We value freedom of expression, and the life of our own more than anything. We simply could not afford for those we love to return to such grave times!"
Haruto sat in silence. "So, Koyomi is…"
"The girl was drained of magic the minute she stepped foot in here." The Emperor answered. "After all, that is what is keeping her alive, isn't it?"
"How did you–"
"I have been studying magic since you were nothing more than an idea, boy." He chuckled. "Sights that could not be comprehended in mere words, I have been witness to. Still, I had not imagined that this was possible."
"In all the time I've known Koyomi, I've come no closer to figuring out what makes her different." Haruto sighed. "I'm a pretty lousy guardian."
"I can assure you of one thing." The Emperor said. "I have never seen something such as this before. A woman, as human as can be… relying on magic. What piece could she be missing?" He started to speculate, but then remembered where it was. It was useless to wander on burning questions when you had no means to solve them.
"There's still one thing I'm curious about." Haruto continued. "That man who showed up at the colosseum: just who is he?" Remembering his face sent a chill down his spine.
"..." The Emperor was silent. It wasn't a topic he wanted to touch upon, but all cards were on the table at this point. "That is a long, long story. It's a good thing we have the time."
THE FORMER EMPEROR'S PALACE, THRONE ROOM
This chair was a perfect fit. Genichiro Shima, newly crowned Emperor of Celestice, was seated pleasantly on the throne that now belonged to him. It was sleek, with a violet cushion and its frame made of solid gold. There were silver pillars at the bottom, stamped into a round, semi-circle stage that was far larger than what it was worth. He sat with one leg overhanging the armrest, basking in joy at his victory. Finally, after over ten years, Genichiro Shima was free, and what's more - in complete control. It was all that he ever dreamed of.
"Lord Shima, I am pleased to make your acquaintance." Several oddly shaped figures entered the room. "Your reign of excellence has only begun."
"Do my eyes deceive me, Kytalo?" He smirked. "I figured you would have collapsed under the peril residing over that decrepit hole." Genichiro rebalanced himself into a more fitting, regal position.
"How terrible, to think so little of me, my lord." Kytalo cackled, sniping the air with their split tongue. "Did you anticipate that I would leave you alone?"
"I was prepared." He joked.
"Ah, now who is this?" Kytalo slithered up to the chair next to Genichiro, though keeping his distance. "Is this the 'Empress' I presume?"
"How do you do?" Fiore asked. Trying to be polite, but she wasn't exactly joyous to be so close to this… whatever they were.
"Such kindness, and gentle hands too…"
"You arrived for a reason." Genichiro ordered. "Make it brief."
"Yes, your highness." Kytalo returned to their position. "Celestice has been seized. We bear great fortune to have such a grand collection of souls to those damned confinement over the ages." A lime coloured flame sprouted from the sorcerer's palm. There were dark, beady eyes that did not understand its current placement in an unfamiliar world. It was quivering in deep fear. "I have made great use of them. Those who have surrendered are to remain indoors, and those who have an inkling of fight in them… They will make great statues."
"As for the prison?" Genichiro asked.
"A tight fit, but all of them are trapped down there. Guarded by no less than a hundred spirits who are itching to unleash havoc at the sign of a disobedient little flower." Kytalo circled around, making a clear showing of theatrics in their speech. "Though, I must ask: why not kill them?"
"Kill them?" Fiore darted her eyes to Genichiro, who remained calm, with his fist holding his chin.
"An island of corpses will provide no satisfaction to me." He answered. "A dead man cannot comprehend the suffering that each of us have sewn into our skin over the years. A simple blood payment does not come close to amounting for that everlasting torture we received." Genichiro got to his feet, towering over those before him as though anything below his feet was masked by a sea of clouds. "Who will anguish in my victory, a mountain of ash? Do not excuse my resistance to bloodshed as a means of mercy." He clenched his fist, raising it to the sky. "Their pain will only enhance our celebration, and strengthen our empire!"
"If you say so." Kytalo snickered. Whatever reason he had to justify his choice, it didn't matter so long as his efforts were of no waste. "The Emperor knows best, doesn't he?"
"Have I given you reason to worry?" Genichiro snidely asked, lowering his arms back into his cloak that covered only his bare torso. "Who is this?"
"A friend." Kytalo stepped aside to introduce them. Before him, about 5 feet wide and six feet high, a blob of dark plasm was erratically swapping various plates that had embedded themselves into its skin, hoping to obtain a more suitable shape, but to no avail. The plates were painted, and resembled faces. It was a moving monstrosity of masks. "Call it a personal bodyguard in wake of my absence. However, I'd recommend if you can find it - bring a dozen mirrors into a room large enough for this creature."
"Are you certain of their competence?" Genichiro asked.
"Of course." Kytalo said, brushing off such comments that undermined and questioned him as well. "I trust you can provide a suitable home?"
"I-it will be arranged." Fiore spoke up, much to the New Emperor's surprise.
"Wonderful," Kytalo rubbed their hands together. That wicked grin never once left their face. "Now, that leaves us with further considerations."
"The Colosseum is quite beautiful." Genichiro crossed his arms, giving it some thought. "Though the sun sleeps, the night is still young. It is a shame that we are late to the party," He laughed with a devilish grin. "But what matters? Tonight belongs to us, and we do as we shall please. No accomplishment goes unnoticed, and we will celebrate. Prepare the arena for festivities, because the stars will cast a shine never seen upon this nation. No longer will we stick to the shadows and be cast out as mere stains."
"What about the morning?" Kytalo asked. "When all is said and done, how do we proceed with our empire? There are hundreds of declarations I would–"
"Enough." With the raise of his palm, Genichiro silenced them. "Until I see the sunrise, I will worry not about enacting a new testament over Celestice."
"... If you insist." Kytalo left alongside the figments of the damned, ghastly soldiers who held no stable being. That monster followed, groaning in pain with each bit of trudging across the carpet; leaving a dark, viscous trail.
Genichiro sighed, rising from his chair. He wandered out onto the terrace, overlooking Celestice. Tonight was beautiful.
"My father," Fiore said, standing behind him. "Am I to assume he is safe?"
"Are you plagued with thoughts of deceit?" Genichiro asked, turning back to face her as he lazily slumped his back over the white, marble balcony. "And do I contribute?"
"No." Fiore shook her head. "I cannot help but to ponder about his current condition. I only wish to ensure temperance among your army."
Genichiro took her by the hand. "It is not my army alone." He said, speaking in a softer voice, but he could never really shed that powerful timbre he carried. "I speak no lies in your presence."
"I'm aware," Fiore said, finding comfort in his torn fingers. "One matter still concerns me. The Inheritor of the Dragon, he still lives."
"Yes." Genichiro nodded. "But I have defeated him already."
"Are you not fixated on the thought that he could end your life at any moment?!" In a sudden move, he brought her close and held tightly.
"Have you forgotten how beautiful you are?" He whispered in her ear. She was as red as a cherry. "Tell me, do you regret anything you have done thus far?" Without hesitation, she declared her voice to the clouds.
"No." Fiore said, finding comfort in his arms. "A new age of Celestice is upon us."
SPIRAL PRISON
"What a tragedy." Rinko muttered, feeling an air of gloominess come over her, and it wasn't just because she was several hundred feet underground in a cramped cell.
"All we could do was seal him here, for the best of this island." The Emperor sighed. "It appears that in my attempt to provide a sanctuary, it was in vain. For all we know, nothing remains above this hole. The island could be nothing more than a mountain of poor, poor souls… Gone, all because of me."
"You don't have anything to say?" Haruto beckoned General Shima to speak, but to no avail. He kept silent throughout the entire story. "Your own son was locked down here, and all you did was choose to ignore him?!"
"Haruto!" Rinko interjected. General Shima hid his face in great shame.
"What kind of father are you?" Haruto said, grimacing at the sight of him.
"We all take fault in this." The Emperor said, trying to mitigate the tension.
"No." Haruto kept his eyes fixated on him. "He can speak for himself." How a man could sit there and take no accountability was beyond him.
"I did what had to be done for the sake of Celestice." General Shima said, though barely audible, as if he would have rather remained without words.
"Do you believe that?" Haruto asked before taking his seat. If he dwelled on it for any longer, he was going to explode. There were greater tasks at hand, such as getting to the bottom of all this. "The Inheritor of the Dragon. I keep hearing that name, but what does it have to do with me?"
"Am I mistaken, that you were once a Gate, Haruto Soma?" The Emperor asked.
"It's true. Koyomi and I, we're the only survivors of the Sabbath." Haruto cradled his knees. "My phantom, WizarDragon. It's the source of my despair, and my hope."
"A dragon is one of the mightiest creatures to ever exist," The Emperor started. "Its power is unprecedented, and it can shape the world itself with little effort. It has very few enemies, and even fewer beings who could ever hope to rival it. However, a dragon is not invincible. There exists one that can stand toe-to-toe, and slay the beast. The Kirin."
"Kirin?" Haruto felt knots tie in his stomach.
"There are several stories across various lands describing it. Some regions claim it to be a giraffe, others more of a deer. Though, what is not disputed is its power. It is so strong that it is able to overpower a mighty dragon. Docile, existing harmless in an era of prosperity… until it is disturbed by an unruly presence, in which case its will of personal justice cannot be stopped once enacted on those it perceives as a threat: you, Haruto Soma."
"What are you getting at here?" Haruto gulped.
"Your existence plagues an otherwise majestic creature. Inside of you is a great, maleficent beast that is destined to cross paths with the Kirin. It is foretold, many ages ago in stone on this island, that the end of our way of life shall occur following a magnificent, horrifying battle between the dragon and kirin. Two of the most powerful avatars of magic, one born here, and the other on a distant land, would eventually collide and bring ruin to our home." The Emperor laughed. "The Kirin resides in Genichiro Shima. A naturally kind, and gentle creature being so consumed in hatred that it turns to pure chaos, and you – a being of raw power and ferocity, masquerading as a diligent hero. Ironic, isn't it?"
"It probably wasn't the best idea to invite me here." Haruto jokes.
"No, but I was foolish to believe that I could change a legend by sealing off mortal enemies. Upon your awakening, I had to see you in person - just once." The Emperor resigned to his own carelessness and rested what he could of his back. "This was no mere fairy tale, though. It was inevitable you two were going to clash, I see that now."
"Even if that were true," Haruto said. "He and I have already fought, and we're still here."
"This isn't a battle for sport, Haruto." The Emperor continued. "This is a battle for your life. I have no doubt in my mind he spared you only out of pride, and intends on disposing of you properly once his sickening joy takes a turn for the worse. Either way, it has begun, and now the rest of us must pay the price of my ignorance." He pointed at our hero. "You, Haruto Soma, Inheritor of the Dragon, are destined to battle the Kirin and bring the destruction of this island."
"You need to keep it together." Haruto chuckled nervously. He began pacing around the room, trying to plead with the ones who still kept their sanity. "I-I'm not some chosen one. I didn't gain my magic because of some legend, I-I got it because I didn't lose hope!"
"Are you certain of that?" General Shima spoke up. "Is it not possible that you were destined to bear that curse?"
"Rinko," Haruto turned to her. "Shunpei, come on. These two have to be kidding. There's no way that I'm some sort of chosen person…"
Neither of them were quick to say otherwise.
"Haruto," Shunpei said. "For the longest time, you were one of the only people who could fight against the phantoms. Rinko-chan and I couldn't do anything, and we were gates too…"
"The final hope." Rinko uttered. "That's what you call yourself. Does that name really not sound legendary to you, Haruto? You and Koyomi were the only ones to make it out of the Sabbath, but only you could use magic."
"I'm not someone who was born for this." Haruto refused, shaking his head. "No, that just can't be true. It's not!" He stared at his ring. For so long, Haruto had envisioned his life as nothing more than a series of bad luck. Still, in spite of that, he carried on - believing that his purpose was of his own making, and nothing more. As long as he clung to his hope that he could continue, no matter how bad it got, then Haruto would keep fighting.
But that all changed if he was never in control. Could this legend be true? That he was born a monster, torn bit by bit in tragedy and running under a false sense of nobility that ultimately proved to be worthless when he was destined to sacrifice thousands for a reason he still can't grasp? No, it can't be true. None of it has to be. This is all a dream. He's going to wake up any moment now. Anytime…
This was no dream. Haruto fell to his knees, gasping for air as his heart ran a million miles an hour. How was he going to… How is he going to… He can't… He…. He….
"Haruto!" Before anything else could happen, Shunpei was desperately by his side, holding him tightly. He begged for his friend to calm down, but it wasn't working! His voice was falling onto deaf ears, no matter how much he screamed. Violently, Haruto began quivering in pure terror.
The man raised his head and stared lifelessly into the abyss. His eyes were dark with golden rings around them. No, could it be?! Was Haruto Soma falling into despair?!
AN: 04/12/2023
OK, wow. It's been a while. I think around 20 days now that I've gone without a chapter. Nearly a month, huh? Can't believe that it's been this long. I can't believe I was able to make a good deadline before exam season too. I have a few in the following week, but after that? I'm done. Really cutting it close to a long semester, but it's all worth it. Which reminds me, I have to do some spring cleaning before then.
Anyways, the chapter. Finally, everything is out on the table. The long awaited Inheritor of the Dragon title is revealed, and we get more of Genichiro Shima, our pride and joy. Pretty scary to imagine that everything in your life could all be some divine ploy, but is this really the case?
I hope as well that some of you are picking up on the conflicting disparity between the Emperor's perception of Genichiro as a character, and how others view Genichiro. I promise, any inconsistencies are in line for a very good reason, because hatred is all a matter of perspective.
Anyways, yes. He is a Kirin. A Japanese Kirin to be exact, a legendary creature that though traditionally very friendly in most instances, remains a powerful creature capable of harming a mighty dragon. There's a great deal of irony in how Genichiro reflects a Kirin. After all, a Kirin can become hostile if it perceives itself to be under a threat, and aims to protect the ones it loves deeply with it's own set of justice. Perhaps there's more to Genichiro just wanting revenge? Perhaps, he wants to protect his own way of life, or someone he loves.
You're just going to have to find out. Actually, fun fact about the Kirin's appearance, the Kirin is a very popular mythological creature among several countries, originating from China from what I know under the title "Qilin." Although the Japanese Kirin is a different interpretation, I wanted to also validate it's origins by having the Emperor question what it looks like, because I believe despite the Japanese Kirin being it's own creature, I believe it is very important to also consider other interpretations of legends, and I think it's really really neat that a creature like this can transcend one interpretation. That's the beauty of mythology, where legends can take on many shapes and forms.
Anyways, I'm really excited to show off more of Genichiro, and especially Haruto's connection to him as we dive further into the ideas of fate and choice, and if Haruto really IS a prophecy, or if he is his own man. I want to believe that you all will be very satisfied by it. There's around 5 chapters left of the story, excluding a mini-chapter with Beast, so I hope you all tune in and enjoy the rest of the story.