When he was one year old, his appearance was much like a three years old boy. Now, he's three years old, but instead of being two to three years older in appearance like I expected, my son remains... the same.
This... which shows signs of pituitary gland disorders...
Sometimes he'd be fine and strong and almost never be ill, but the other time he would suddenly be weak and ill.
Which shows signs of endocrine and immune axis disorders...
And sometimes his eyes—his visions—would be fine, but sometimes he'd need glasses just to see what is in front of him.
Which shows signs of diseases of the optic nerve or... brain...
What made all this even worse is that there is no treatment for this—sometimes he'd feel pain in his body without any clear reasons.
...If the condition keeps up, I don't know if he could live past thirty or... less...
He's all I have left.
There were more than just a few times I thought I was going to lose him too...
I thought he was going to die...
But he lived.
Thank goodness he lived.
My son is a smart boy. My son has a strong will, but I'm not sure how long that will help him last.
...If my son could form a mana core right now... that will help a lot.
"..."
I'm a horrible father...
"How did things turn out like this...?"
"Da—"
Our child...
"Dad—"
It was a miracle that he was able to be born, but...
It was never possible for him to be born to begin with. He should have died at birth.
"DAD!"
"...Yes?" The word slipped out of me at last, as if dragged up from somewhere far too deep.
I turned, looking at him sitting timidly at the bow of the boat.
"...We're here..." Behind him was a land—Dicathen—and up ahead I could see houses that had yet to be awake.
That must be the town of Ashber.
And it looks like dawn is approaching. If that's the case, then it must be getting dark in Alacrya. Everyone over there probably thinks I'm dead or missing.
... I hope Draven is doing fine.
"...Dad? Where are we?" My son asked as I carried him out of the boat along with my bag of relics and artifacts before heading toward the town.
"Our new home from now on."
***
Delsin Novak
Here at Darv in general and Vildorial in particular, they don't invest much in education. Only wealthy families get to go to school, while the rest have to work early to earn money. Almost everyone here, from children to adults, is illiterate.
"...And they... lived... happily... ever after."
The kids cannot continue like this, which is why I help them on how to read and write.
"Yes, that's great! You're getting better! Keep reading more books, and you'll be reading letters for your parents soon. Or you can perhaps teach them how to read yourself," I said to the kids as I stood up, twisting my back from left to right to relieve my back. "That's enough for today, alright? Now off you go. I'll teach you math in another day."
"Thank you, big bro!" They all spoke at once before running out with books in their arms.
"..."
"You feeling alright...?" Berk came to ask. His hands were busy whisking the eggs as he didn't look up from the bowl he was holding.
"Yes, I am fine."
"'Yes, I am fine.'" He mimicked my voice in a silly way. "You think I'm stupid?" He finally glanced over, one brow raised. "Seriously, what the f*ck happened? Did she threaten you?" His hand began to slow down.
"...Well—"
"—I F*CKING KNEW IT!" He stopped whisking the eggs. "That b!tch—she is a vritra, isn't she?! She must have used an artifact to hide those horns! How stupid was I to not think of that?!"
"Berk, calm down—"
"I'm right, aren't I??" He set the bowl down a little too hard before slinging an arm around my shoulders, pulling me in close. His grip was firm—protective, but suffocating. "Now don't you worry little bro. I got your back, always, and not just me—"
"I SAID GET OUT OF MY KITCHEN!!!" The hoarse scream tore through the kitchen.
"What the—?" Berk and I immediately went to check.
There, just beyond the doorway, stood an elderly dwarf woman trembling as before her—
"VRITRA!"
"BERK, WAIT—!"
I was too late.
Mana surged through his body in a flash, coating the knife as he ripped it from the table and hurled it toward Scythe Seris. In the same motion, he lunged past me, grabbing the old woman and dragging her back inside.
The knife struck her in the head and bounced off to the floor with bent blade and a broken tip.
"Please go inside, Mrs. Earthborn," I said as the old woman hurried back.
"I... I didn't mean to frighten her..." The Scythe Seris still stood with her hands gracefully clasped in front. She lowered her gaze to the broken knife at her feet as she explained herself. The Scythe, who once wore a fancy dress, now wears an old, traditional dress of elves, which somehow still looks fine on her. She would look like an ordinary young lady if it weren't for her horns.
"Oh yeah? Then what the f*ck do you want?" Berk asked, his hand slowly reached for another knife.
"Food." She replied simply. "The weren't enough food for my people."
"Then asked Lance Godspell about it!"
"He's occupied with the asuras. I can't reach him—"
"Then f*ck off and wait!!" Berk snarled. "The f*ck do you want us to do about it?? B!tch, didn't you know half our—"
I grabbed his arm and pulled him back, stopping him.
"What?!"
"We still have leftover food inside, which should be enough for many." I said under my breath.
"That's our food, fool!"
"We can skip lunch! Dinner will be ready soon—we'll eat then, with the others."
"..."
"There're mostly children, women and elders. Help them out!"
"...Fine! Fine!"
We snapped out and looked at Scythe Seris.
She hadn't moved. Just stood there—watching, waiting.
"..."
"..."
"Aren't you going say something?" Berk whispered.
"Who? Me?" I whispered back.
"Who else?!" he hissed. "You wanted to her out and I just called her a b!tch! And she's—" He grimaced, "—she's looked creepy as sh!t! Her skin is almost just as white as her hair and—f*ck! You talk to her!"
"Uh..." I stepped forward just a little bit. "Scythe Seris, please return to your people. We'll get the food prepare for them."
"I—Thank you..." She lowered herself as she said.
"Now go, be gone before we change our mind."
"Yes, thank you..." She repeated, then turned and left.
Only when she was gone did the air feel... lighter.
We worked quickly after that.
After gathering everything with the help of many others, we quickly loaded the food and made our way to the Alacrya refugee camp before it got cold.
The road there was relatively empty, so getting there was quick.
"Need some help with all that, son?" One of the soldiers offered as they let us through.
"No, thanks, sir. I've got it." I adjusted my grip, then glanced back. "Berk, you coming?"
"...Sure."
That alone made me pause—but I said nothing.
As we entered together with the food.
Before long, two figures approached.
"Delsin!" Caera called, "You really came! And—" She stopped as soon as she saw Berk right behind me.
"Yes." I simply said without actually looking at her.
"Yeah, I f*cking knew it...!" Berk muttered, looking at Caera's horns as he tried to control himself.
"...Scythe Seris." I addressed, my voice was still slightly shaky, even though I had prepared myself mentally beforehand.
"...Yes, thank you." she said softly. "But, please, call me Seris is fine. I'm... no longer a Scythe after all."
"Sure, great." Berk cut in, already stepping forward. "Let's go, Delly. I want to see these people."
"...Really?" I asked, didn't expected that.
He shrugged. "We're already here. Might as well give them a visit."
Before Seris could act, Caera stepped aside, gesturing inward. "That would be... appreciated," she said quietly. "Please—this way."
"..." As Berk went past her, he didn't forget to give her a glare as he went further in.
We split up to distribute the food to everyone. I distributed food to the children while Berk patiently distributed food to the elderly and women as well.
"Hehehe..." I couldn't help but let out a small chuckle when I saw him gently feeding an elderly woman with an expression that contradicted and didn't match his actions at all.
Seris sat nearby, feeding a small child with the same precision she might have used on a spell.
"Delsin...?" Caera called, pushing her chair close to mine as she continued to help me feed the children.
"...Yes, Caera?"
"Did Arthur tell you when you'll start your training?"
"No, but soon, I expect."
"Well, I heard that Seris and I and even the other lance will receive special training from that Wren guy as well, which I'm pretty excited."
"...That's great, Caera." I said, my tone flat as I kept feeding the children. "Just great."
"...Delsin... are you still upset?"
I stopped, the wooden spoon hovering over the bowl. I finally looked at her. "Well, you beat the life out of me, Caera. So I don't think I should be particularly happy about it. And I'm not mad at you but more like afraid, much like I was being bully. I mean, who's to say you won't decide to jump me again?"
"I said I was sorry. And I did go easy on you, did I not?" She let out a small laughed.
"You said you were sorry," I replied, couldn't help but laugh as well. "Yet you don't seem to be repenting at all."
The ceiling and floor suddenly trembled slightly, and a sudden chill shot through, disrupting me.
I got my eye on the ceiling, catching a chaotic crumbling growing stronger as I stood up.
Then came the alarm bell rang like warning thunder.
"Delsin we need to go now!" Berk said as he didn't want me to respond and pulled me along.
***
Arthur Leywin
"Ellie! Mother!"
I didn't wait for an answer. I tore the door from its frame, the wood splintering like dry bone in my grip.
"You could've just knocked, brother!" The voice was perfect. It was Ellie's pitch, her cadence, her playful exasperation. She was sitting by the window, framed by the pale light. But the air in the room felt wrong—oily and thick with the scent of burning copper.
"Who are you...?" I demanded patiently. "Where are my sister and my mother?"
"Ah shit, I thought I nailed the voice!" The faker said playfully. "Well, never mind."
Soul fire manifested, eating away the fake skin. The "Ellie" by the window dissolved, the sweet features melting into a slurry of ash to reveal what's beneath.
In the dimly lit room, I could barely see his face.
All I saw was a tall and slim man draped in a set of armor much like Cylrit's, with spiky orange hair that covered up most of his face.
He stood up from the chair, looking at me closely, smiling wide. "Wow! Look at you! All grow up, but I remember your hair was brown... What happened? Stress?"
"Answer my question," I repeated.
"Now, now. Your family is still alive. Trust me." He leaned forward. "Look, my orders were to kill as much as possible. But I really, really want to impress the High Sovereign. So I was planning to kill as much as possible all at once! Haha—A total annihilation, all at once!" He threw his head back and laughed like a maniac. That was when I saw the horror of his condition. Blood began to leak—not from a wound, but from his pores. It streamed from his nose, his eyes, and his ears, painting his manic grin in red.
"AND DON'T YOU F*CKING DARE LOOK DOWN ON ME!!!" He pointed his finger at me, once again pressing close. "You can use all those fancy spells or runes all you want!! You, the other lances will never find their location!! You're already lost, Arthur Leywin! AND I WILL BECOME A RETAINER—"
"..."
He went silent in an instant, his expression shifting into one of pure, childlike happiness. Before I could close the distance to grab his neck, he took a quick step back and dissolved into shadows.
"Regis!" I called.
"I'm already on it!" My companion's voice ring in my mind.
"I don't care even if you have to dig up the entire foundation of this continent," I snarled. "You have to find them."
Lines of aetheric pathways spread wide throughout the entire city, and before I could activate godstep, a tiny movement of something little at the corner of my eyes had me paused.
Then it squeaked "Wah!"
***
Delsin Novak
The screams died down. They didn't fade but were cut short, severed by something.
There was no one left to be seen.
A man burst out from a nearby tent, his eyes wide and rimmed in white. "IT'S YOUR SHADOW!" he shrieked, his voice cracking with a primal terror. "THEY'LL PULL YOU IN—" Before he could finish, his own shadow seemed to liquefy, turning into a pool of ink. It rose up, snatching his ankles and yanking him down.
Then came a sharp buzz ringing throughout my being. My skin bunched up.
"Keep running, Del—" Berk yelled. His voice was cut short. I spun around just in time to see him submerged to the waist in blackness before he was gone.
"Berk—" I leaped up to put distance between my boots and my own shadow. But that wasn't enough as something cold clamped onto my ankle, and then it pulled me down the black.
Dizziness swirled my vision and snapped back as I found myself in a crowd of people.
We're deeper in the ground, beneath the underground city.
"STOP!!! STOP IT!!! I WANT TO KILL YOU ALL AT ONCE!!! STOP!!!" The voice was high, frantic, and full of madness.
I pushed through the trembling crowd as I clawed my way to the front.
In the center of the clearing was a mountain of corpses, and there stood a tall man with a bloody face clad in armor, his orange hair matted wildly, and in his hand, held aloft like a discarded rag, was Berk.
Berk was a ruin. His clothes were shredded, soaked in his own blood.
The man held him effortlessly as he yelled with that frantic, bloody grin splitting across his face, "You have no idea how long I spent making this for you." He shouted, his voice echoing off the cavern walls. "This place will be your tomb!"