Weiss shuffled forward in a daze. The funeral for his father had happened last night and if he had managed to get a wink of sleep he couldn't remember it. As a Counter Guardian he had grown numb from killing. He had killed and killed and killed until he could fill an ocean with humanity's blood, and no matter what he said to others or himself, he hated that he hadn't completely grown desensitized to death.
Weiss had known this world was filled with danger because the Age of the Gods was still prevalent, but the danger was foreign and "other." It was always spoken through second hand accounts or embellished stories from travelers to draw in a crowd to buy their wares and perhaps a drink to the weary and tired.
Now it was like a bandaid had been torn from his still gushing flesh to remind him that he wasn't allowed to have a comfort filled life. He was a sword and swords are useless outside of battle as nothing but decorations on a wall to gather dust if they were not regularly wielded and maintained.
He could not afford to remain as he is. Younger body or not. Knowledgeable about this world's history or not. He had a purpose and a second chance, and he refused to let it go to waste. He'd fulfill his father's last wish, and he sure as hell wasn't going to go out without a fight.
This world might be his only option from becoming a beast of Alaya once more upon his death which meant he was going to have to walk a precarious tightrope in the future of gaining enough fame to enter the Throne of Heroes without letting himself become too susceptible to the gods and their whims after gaining their attention.
One thing he had going for him at least was his mother informing him about the gods' inability to use their divine power or "Arcanum" while on "Genkai" -otherwise known as the mortal realm- without permission. So he could at least rest easy from massive bolts of lightning striking him down should he accidentally snub one of them knowing his terrible luck and tendency to stick his own foot in his mouth.
Weiss stopped outside his mother's room with a tray of food in hand and knocked before politely waiting for admittance. A glance out the window showed it was past 10 and she still hadn't come out since she disappeared into her bedroom after the funeral. Even if she wasn't emotionally up to it, he bet her body was craving food even if her stomach was threatening to rebel.
He heard the quiet shuffling of sheets and the equally quiet padding of her dainty feet before she slowly opened the door just wide enough for her face to be seen.
She looked horrible. Her eyes were swollen red from the crying and rubbing away her tears and beneath them were dark purple crescent rings so vivid they looked like bruises. The skin of her nose was cracking and it wasn't far off from joining her eyes in the vermillion spectrum, but the biggest change of all was the light in her eyes had dimmed which sent her shoulder hunching as her energy was sapped until she looked as if she was nothing but a walking corpse.
"I made you some food," he said, gently pushing his mother aside so he could stride into the room and set the food on the end of the bed.
"You didn't need to do that for me," she said, but it sounded mechanical, as if she was replying only from memory of what would be polite instead of how she felt.
"Would you have eaten anything if I hadn't?" he returned, ignoring her lapse into silence. "You know… my entrance exam to the Academy is tomorrow." He made a self depreciating smirk. "I guess even funerals for local heroes aren't enough to postpone school."
That was one change that had settled over the village. His father had finally been deemed "acceptable" by the average populace as they arrived to his father's farewell pyre to give their thanks for stopping the worst of the monsters… and if they so happened to have been given the chance to see Weiss up close to see his worth as well, then it was just their good fortune, wasn't it?
"Are you sure you don't want to wait until next year?" his mother asked quietly, grasping his hands perhaps a little desperately. "Learning magic… the fighting exercises… It's dangerous."
"I'll be fine, Mother. You don't have to worry so much." After realizing his words were perhaps a bit mistimed, he amended, "Thank you for your concern. But I'm your son, right? We Forestlights are strong fighters."
Neve tried to smile at his pale attempt at humor but only managed a grimace. Worry was still prevalent in her eyes. Perhaps it would never leave.
"Your father asked me to tell you about your family's legacy…" she trailed off before shaking her head. "But perhaps I should wait until after you pass the exam. I wouldn't want you to be distracted on your big day."
"I don't need a bunch of old books to tell me who I am. It won't change anything."
She finally managed to make a smile as she stroked his cheek. It was a sad smile that he recognized as one who usually knew something the receiver didn't.
My dear, it will change everything. We just both hoped it wouldn't come so soon. Perhaps- perhaps it was simply fated.
"Good luck tomorrow," she finally said, a little spark of her old life entered her eyes as she held onto him. She smirked lightly and gave him one "command."
She said, "Show those assholes why your father earned my love and respect. I would find it quite satisfying to see Thorne eat his own words when you beat Alicia's test scores."
A near arrogant smirk crossed his own in answer. "Of course. I can't have her showing me up."
That was what he'd said at least before receiving the test. He repeated the Chants verbatim written and oral, filled out multiple vocab terms about the differences between Extalia, Mana, and Magic, and listed out the most commonly seen monsters in the northern part of the continent and what their main weaknesses were perfectly. It helped having seen the monsters in action at the very least.
Following that was a test in archery… so of course he was grouping the bullseye tightly just to show off a bit because he knew what came next was probably where he'd fail.
The final portion of the exam had the candidates form a line and one by one were called to step into a separate room and attempt to cast one spell the three proctors gave them to the best of their ability. The cause of his anxiety outside of simply casting his spell correctly was one of the proctors in the room was his great-grandmother… the same woman who was the main suspect his father believed behind directing the monsters after him. It would most likely not be easy. Impossible to please sounded closer to the truth.
His (begrudging) relative commanded the respect of everyone in the village and it was to her they allowed make the decision of what spell he would inevitably cast. She stood up from her chair- expertly carved and comfortably cushioned to look not unlike a throne- with a dramatic flair before stalking down the steps with a lithe grace that belonged to a woman five centuries younger like she was about to deliver his death sentence.
"The element we have chosen for you is Fire. Clearly articulate the words and cast your spell towards the dummy we have laid out for you. Accuracy and damage will be taken into account for your score," she professionally directed loud enough for all in the room to hear before quietly commenting, "Do try not make yourself look like a failure. It would be such a shame if your mother learned you blew yourself up so soon after your father's passing."
Weiss narrowed his eyes. Well clearly her stance hadn't changed about him at all regardless of his role in slaying the monsters. He was almost glad she hadn't changed her tune. He needed common ground and spiteing her was something he had been looking forward to.
"Very well," he said dryly, trying his best not to let his nerves show. But he was well aware of his failure to cast elemental magic in his previous life. Something told him he would be no less successful now. Still, he'd never make a difference if he didn't try.
"Burst, flames of damnation rise up and engulf the earth. Incinerate the unworthy and cleanse their souls. Burn, burn, burn and smite those who wish to deal harm to the innocent. Burst: Flaring arrow!"
The spell burned his tongue the moment he began speaking the words before the sensation started traveling down his throat until it reached his stomach.
This world's magic caused this much pain from only the first and most basic verse?
It wasn't quite as painful as injecting a burning fire poker into his spine, but it certainly was on its way to matching the intensity. But he had still persevered for years making little if any progress the first time with casting spells. He was hardly about to let a little pain stand in his way this time either!
The burning repeated from his core up his chest and then down his arms as sweat soaked his brow and his arms trembled under the intensity of keeping his hand still and aimed towards the target. Then with the feeling of pressing his palm into hot coals, Weiss finished speaking his chant at the exact moment the pain reached its crescendo in his hand.
A bolt of superheated flame exploded from his hand and expanded as it raced for the target. A flame the size of a golf ball transitioned into a blaze the size of a semi-auto truck and enveloped the wooden dummy before it blew up, scattering flames in every direction. A barrier of wind sprouted between the proctors and himself as the flames went wild before they gradually simmered down to reveal the smoldering remains of the dummy's left leg… the only thing left of it.
Weiss's eyes went wide. He actually cast magic that wasn't a sword? Has his Element somehow changed? He could tell by the fact that UBW wasn't shredding him up from the inside that his Origin had remained the same. Was this why he was having difficulties with forming his swords earlier? Or was it because it was still early in using his core? Too many questions with no answers.
However his attention was stolen by his great-grandmother clapping as she stalked forward with… a glimmer of pride in her eyes?
What?
"I knew I sensed the touch of flame in you. Your soul has been marked by fire. I think your future will be quite interesting indeed. I'm glad you overcame my test."
Test? Her words… were a test? Yes… and no. I'm sure she would have cut me out to dry and spit on me if I had proven I was completely hopeless with magic… magical swords notwithstanding. The history of "Magic Swords" burning down forests was well known and I figured I would definitely be lumped in with them should I blatantly and continually use them as I did to kill those monsters. So… it was only because I succeeded that she deemed me worthy of publicly speaking to me. How familiar. This was exactly like the mages in Clock Tower regarding their first born children. Should they fail to meet their standards they'll simply turn their attention on to the next child. How… disgustingly amusing.
"Does this mean I've passed?" he asked instead, pushing aside my feelings on the matter for when I'm alone and can figure out what to do about the information.
"Your written and practical scores will be added together before we submit everyone's results tomorrow. You will find out alongside everyone else where you placed."
Weiss was ushered out of the room while they fetched another dummy from a back room as the next hopeful student came in for their test. A glimmer of contentment went through him regardless of whether he passed or failed. He was able to cast a spell unrelated to swords for the first time outside of reinforcement or structural grasp. And he had learned long ago that he really needed to enjoy the few moments of success… but he still occasionally (frequently) failed to remember that little fact.
—O—
"I- It- it's- impossible!" Weiss heard as he casually walked up to the board with the entrance exam scores outside the front gate to the sectioned off academy. If he hadn't been familiar with the voice, a discerning eye informed him the man who was speaking was his Uncle Thorne. Apparently he was angry he managed to be accepted into the academy. Thorne turned on his heel to storm away before catching sight of his silver hair in the crowd.
"You! How did you do it, you little cheat?"
"What? Pass the exam? The same way as anyone else I suppose. I studied," Weiss drawled, loving how his uncle's face turned purple as he gnashed his teeth like he was about to snarl at him.
"You know what I mean!" he roared, drawing all of the attention in the area. "How did you beat my daughter's scores?"
Weiss's eyes widened in surprise. He did WHAT? He made a sound in his throat before regaining his composure with a cough.
"Well she did help me study for it. You and I can both thank her for assisting me to reach where I am today."
Thorne's brow pinched together in a rage before he placed a hand over his face and stormed out before he made any more of a scene. Weiss let out a smirk that made the man actually growl before he fled the area.
Wow. That brightened my day. Thank you Uncle. It was the first time he could remember genuinely doing so.
"I think I'll make something nice for tonight. It should cheer Mother up a little bit at the very least."
He was wrong. So, so very wrong. Weiss had gone all out in preparing the best meal he could, slicing chicken into thin cutlets, zesting and adding just the right amount of lemon and its juice, searing a plethora of vegetables and mushrooms, hand making his own special blend of sauce and then drizzling it over the sparkling golden meat just as it finished cooking. He expected praise! Perhaps a smile at the very least. Instead his mother took one bite and started inconsolable crying and started muttering to herself she was a horrible mother who couldn't do anything right.
Sweat slicked down his head. Oh. So that's why she's depressed. This was a form of praise in its own way, right? His mother sniffled into her sleeve and his strained smile slipped completely off his face. Maybe he made the wrong decision to brighten her mood? A loud trumpeting blow into a tissue was his answer. What could he do to help?
"Can you show me how to cook your favorite meal tomorrow?" he asked.
"Why? So you can prove how much better you are at cooking that too?" she blubbered.
He almost forgot because it had been so long; he sucked at comforting people.
"I think it would be nice to spend some time together before I become swamped in school work."
Her crying ceased as a wobbly smile took its place. "Okay!"
I thought I was supposed to be the child.
—O—
Mother and son entered the chilly basement to find fine crafted stone walls on the verge of needing repair, with small cracks running between the gaps of the mortar. It was to one of these areas of disrepair that his mother went and ran her finger alongside a small hole before jerking it upward and then an entire rock the size of a beach ball was plucked from it and Weiss saw the rock had been carved out to become hollow. The perfect place to hide small items.
She retrieved from the space three large journals as large as her palm and the first digits of her fingers and another much smaller book before she swiped a thick layer of dust off the cover to show the shining maroon leather beneath.
"The three journals of your father, his grandfather, and his great-grandfather."
"Not one for his own father?"
"No, he died when he was in his forties."
Extremely young for an elf. That's practically the mental equivalent of a preteen. Weiss was surprised his father had been born at all, much less old enough to remember seeing his parents murdered if his last words were directed at himself.
"And the last one?"
She looked it over in slight wonder herself like she was holding an ancient relic or treasure.
"It's a grimoire."
Weiss's eyes widened. Back in his old world grimoires were zealously guarded and lives slain just for people mentioning they knew what might be in one from another family.
"Can I see it?"
"NO!" she barked before forcibly settling her nerves. "Sorry, it's just that I wanted you to wait until after you graduated. If people knew you had used this… Well they're rare for a reason because they are ridiculously hard to make, but most importantly they'll disappear after the reader reads one."
"Disappear?"
"The reader absorbs the magic and will know how to cast it the moment they comprehend its purpose."
"Oh."
Yet another difference between worlds. Magi often left grimoire for their children to study their craft before adding their own research to it, spanning the knowledge contained within for centuries if their heritage was old enough.
I guess this is the equivalent of a magic crest in that you know how to use the spells within and increases the "ease of use," but instead it's only a one time use. Is this world's rules of magic truly so different or am I missing something? Rin or Luvia would have known exactly what was happening and already developed at least a half dozen workarounds. In the end, I'm still nothing but a third rate magus.
"Furthermore, Grimoire are also fantastical items because the magic spells you can receive are based on your greatest desires. Do you wish to be stronger, faster, or have the ability to shoot lightning from your fingers? If the answer lies in your heart, the grimoire will do its best to fulfill your desire… but be prepared to do a lot of work to improve upon it after you learn the magic. Complacency is man's greatest folly!"
"I understand. Grimoires truly are amazing."
Imagine if a magus were to have something like this. It's a scary thought, but not nearly as terrifying as the Einzbern family being able to get the 3rd magic, Materialization of the Soul.
"Now, onto your family's history. Your great-great-grandfather was from Hjadningavíg, a forested island country where the kingdoms of the White and Dark Elves were locked in war for decades. Their inability to come to a compromise led to the mutual defeat of them both with the survivors scattering in the wind to other forests around the continent… As you may have guessed, my grandmother lived there as a girl until she eventually settled here."
That spiteful old crone.
"A few decades after the war ended, your father's family had made their own home in a remote farm seated between two small villages. They planned to stay there until they died, but they weren't expecting for it to happen less than ten years later."
"An assassin?" he guessed.
"They were relics who couldn't forget the past or the outcome of the war. Your ancestor gave the rest of his family time to escape while he held them off. Your great-grandfather," she said, retrieving an ornate sword from the false rock, "spent most of his life trying to retrieve his father's sword from those who had stolen it when they killed him. Unfortunately, the group had joined up with others sympathetic to the cause and were intent on hunting down the rest of his family to ensure his- your- bloodline couldn't retake the throne."
T- this sword!
It had a polished ebony wood and metal handle with gold veins and ancient elven scriptures with a large red gemstone- a Vouivre Tear!- set into the center guard. Its blade was a deep red like spilled blood in the night and had a gap at its pommel like something was ripped from it. His eyes went automatically to work to inform him it was forged centuries ago for a young and ambitious prince seeking to prove himself on his journey to combat an evil god. The righteous sword made to eliminate evil was transformed into a blade that devours curses as he slayed dozens of the deity's followers, soaking in their curses and dying regrets.
Its name was…
"Gram," his mother stated, a mixture of pride and worry apparent in her voice. "Your family's been passing it down from father to son. Your father refused to even look at it after he sealed it away here. He said the sword 'didn't like' him. I wasn't sure what he'd meant until I first picked it up. It felt like countless eyes were crowding around me and judging my very soul…" she trailed off, fiddling with her arm as if the very memory was off putting.
Weiss mused about finding the legendary Norse sword. Different circumstances, materials, and people forging the blade in an entirely different world, and yet the once Holy sword still came to be infused with cursed energy and even more intriguingly, just as fickle with who is allowed to wield it. However, even considering all of that, the greatest difference between the two swords was that this blade had the ability to unleash the curses stored within upon its unworthy wielder if they seeked to harm mankind unless they descended from the young prince's bloodline… Weiss's bloodline.
The prince's silver hair was a magically inherited trait to his descendants, forever proclaiming their identities to the world… and making them a target. He sighed in resignation.
As if I didn't have enough problems already with gods and monsters thrown into the mix.
There was nothing he could do about it though, so he moved on with the discussion.
"Have you ever met one?"
"One?"
"A god. I admit that I've heard some terrible rumors about them and I was wondering how many of them were true."
Neve hummed before letting out a small giggle.
"Most of the stories going around are spiteful tales from other gods and familias who are either envious or wronged in some way. But to answer your earlier question, yes, I met the god Hermes about… oh about eighty years ago now. He stopped by to visit my grandfather's home for a few weeks before continuing on. The god's wanderlust was slightly inspiring, but I prefer having a roof over my head and my family's roots at my feet," she said before her eyes started to get misty.
"Your father and I had once argued about moving away from here. Away from the prejudice, away from the bigotry, and a desire to explore the world together with no plans or dreams settled… but I said no. I said traveling the world was too dangerous without a guide and we-" she choked, burying her face in her hands.
"It's all my fault. Maybe if I'd agreed then he could have survived-"
Neve stilled as hands caressed her cheeks to gently, but not lacking at all in firmness, lift her chin and two orbs of burnt gold- so much like his father's- met her own and felt her heart shatter once more. The eyes were filled with understanding and an unwavering resolve to continue on his path wherever it may lead or what consequences it might bring along. A gaze that asked, nearly begged, to shoulder her burdens if she'd only pass them along and Neve was tempted, so incredibly tempted to shift the blame and guilt and self hatred that was eating her up from within, but this was her son. She couldn't dream of pushing her woes onto him even if he were an adult, much less a boy of only five. It was just like-
"You're looking more like your father every day," she said at last, regaining enough of her composure to dry her tears on a sleeve without letting the hand that had brushed her cheek escape. She latched onto it like a lifeline and intertwined their fingers in a show of gratitude and a promise of support.
"Is that such a bad thing?" Weiss asked, seeing her words for what they were as he took a seat beside her as he retrieved and poked through the first journal of his great-great-grandfather.
"Not at all. He was a hero after all… and I think you're well on your way to becoming one yourself one day," she said softly, running a hand through her hair as his head bowed.
"I'm no hero."
Neve frowned at the bitter laced words that grated her ears. His voice was self deprecating and… resigned. Broken like an old man who'd spent his entire life trying to prevent a disaster and warning others of it only for them to ignore him and be crushed for their heedlessness, leaving him alone except for regrets and misery as companions.
"'I wish to live a life with no regrets.' That is what your father told me on the same day I agreed to marry him. Unfortunately it is also true we both have- had many at the end. But that doesn't mean the good Aelfheah accomplished along with the regrets wasn't equally important when remembering him.
"He was a hero, no matter what our village might say or believe. But Weiss, a hero doesn't have to save the world to be called a hero. Sometimes it's for those closest to you that matters. To those you live, love, and laugh with, for the people you'd be willing to sacrifice anything for. I don't know what you promised your father that night and if you want to keep it a secret between you two then that's fine, but even if you ignore everything else I'll try and teach you in this life, I want you to remember just one thing.
"Whatever person you want to be, no one has the power to change it. Strive for your dreams and reach for the stars, but most importantly, make a group of friends along the way to share the happiness you'll feel when you finally achieve it. And if misfortune should somehow befall you that prevents you from achieving it, then at least there'll be people at your side to help you find a way to live with it and hopefully push you to find something else as a goal.
"Please, there are people out there who will grow to care for you if you'd only let them. I know Alicia has been trying to pound some sense into this thick skull of yours to branch out," she finished with a small grin.
"I can't believe you believe anything that girl says," Weiss deflected, pushing his own thoughts on the matter down deep to reflect on later. "Now as much as I loved this history lesson, don't you think it's time for lunch?"
—O—
