Isaac's Secondary Magic Training [Private]

A dark, melancholy gloom hanged over the midnight skies as a brightening moon forever hung in place. Ravens; dark, condescending birds that scavenged the world and glided across the pinkish-magenta skies. Chirping their hollow, dark cries as their beady eyes pried the land and seemed to haunt you. Nature's harbingers, yet no one seems to hear their warnings when fate is near.

The wind would coolly brush against the skins of those who traveled outside their hovels, and could taste it's sweet, yet bitter taste at the tip of their tongues, even those substance would lie there bare. Wasn't it funny? Even at times where the simplest of things were present in nature, no one found what they were looking for. Yet mankind would always be curious. Those moments where children will stick their tongues out when snowflakes speckled the sky and slowly drifted to the earth in a soft, white blanket, they want to taste what no one's tasted before. These little flakes, so mysterious, drifting alone onto the ground, have lives that end in the blink of an eye.

Alone, they fall into the earth. Cold and tiny, so callous that they freeze. But when they escape this solitude and frozen state, when they finally are embraced by the warmth; may it be man or plant, they melt. One can suppose that if you get to close to something so warm, and seemingly harmless, they only hurt themselves. It is something true, indeed. But another may say that it is the foundation of relationships. One may sacrifice their comfort for another's warmth. But, what if this person does not want to sacrifice what little they had? What if that frozen heart that deemed them numb was the lesser of two evils? Was there no other price to pay?

"I will start by saying this: My childhood was not at all depressing or notably tragic, but happy and fruitful. I was the firstborn son and child to a working King and loving Queen, both being my parents.

My Father, at the time, was a man of honor and bound by work. Call him a workaholic, but if anything, he did his job well. He was stoic, and disciplined, and I happened to take on his nature in my later days. But in my childlike essence, I was merely a quiet, curious boy who loved to play with my parents. My Father, Aldrick, and Mother, Eleonore, pampered me quite a lot. Spoiling me with seconds of my favorite foods and telling me secrets of the kingdom. But it wasn't long before my first sister was born, Hannelore.

My Mother, at the time, kind and endearing. Sweet and accepting. The ideal, guiding mother. Many villagers in the kingdom had idolized her or glorified her to be some sort of goddess sent to guide them, so with her fame, we practically inherited that. But she did live up to her expectations, seeming to always to make the right decisions and pushing others in the wisest direction. She did not fail to please, but also had disciplines of her own.

Now, both of our parents had spoiled us, for at the time we were all they had. I was six and she was four, and we were a duo of uncovering secrets of the castle and kingdom; which really only was finding secret rooms and seeing who could last the longest in the dark wineries of the castle cellars. At the time, I hadn't exactly developed an elder brother persona just yet. I just happened to be older, and to say the least, more timid than my little sister, Hannelore.

Hannelore was a curious, adventurous child who would stop at nothing to get what she wanted. When she was she was just grasping the language, she would demand anything that sparkled. Oh, but she wasn't as brave. She'd scream at the slightest suspicion of bugs or worms or dogs. At those times, I was her 'knight in shining armor', but in reality, I really just covered her eyes and guided her away (Seeing as I wasn't fond of bugs myself...), plucked or shooed the things away reluctantly, or simply ignored her entirely. She was such a fussy child, and was only a little shorter than me, but would still demand I hold her or spoon feed her, no matter how old she was at the time. I would gladly accept her commands, seeing as I babied her more than my parents did.

Now, my Mother had always worried over us both. Seeing as Hannelore would be the one to lead us into dirt or trouble, and I'd always be the one to lead us out of it. She'd say things to Hannelore, like "Don't wander into the cellars alone, my little princess!" and tell me things like "Look after your sister, Isaac! She's all you've got!". But sometimes, those lectures would switch, but I managed to develop that big-brother persona after so many lectures, and became more or a guardian than a playmate after several tens of these lectures. If not hundreds.

In any case, we were a trouble making duo (That was more or less strictly on Hannelore....), and eventually developed elder-sibling personas after we discovered our Mother's next pregnancy.

This journal had seemed to be the very beginning of Isaac's spiraling life. And at the time, it was perfect.

It was harmonious, a happy family that balanced their professional life with their wicked work. Although the oldest, Isaac was most at peace, as it seemed. His siblings filled with wonder, and he, enjoying their childlike curiosity.

Not much had changed, really. Hannelore was learning to grow out of her fussy nature and I was already indulging in other studies, becoming an ideal older brother persona. At the time, I was ten years old, Hannelore being eight, and Achim, our newest younger brother, being six. Hannelore didn't change, really. She still ran about the castle grounds, seeking adventure and danger and even going as far as pranking other with mischeivous acts such as putting worms into jars and leaving them under someone's pillow (She was slowly growing out of her fear of small creatures), which, she was lectured for over and over again... by Mother. And I continued to watch over her and discipline her, already adopting my disciplined nature and responsibilities as a sibling and first in line to royal duties.

Achim was the quietest of us all. He always was by Mother's side and never left it. He was clumsy, and often had people do things for hi, no matter how reluctant he was for them to do so, which contributed to the fact he had trouble advocating for things he was clearly not okay with. My relationship with him was close, to a degree. I was one of his tutors, and had a fair part in teaching him how to read and to interpret language, since I happened to be the bookworm, education-addicted, wise sibling out of the trio. Which was to be expected, I was given private lessons and special tasks at an early age, around when I was eight, and had skills that naturally came to me.

If anything, I was idolized by Achim, in my perspective. To say the least, he always tried to force himself to have an aptitude in things I had in. Things like, how fast I could read and write, or my observational skills (In fact, he had to follow his finger to read and was easily distracted), and...

On a lonesome boat, Isaac sat in the very back, going through his journal entries.

A grim, melancholy expression fell to the man's lips as he continued on, speaking to himself quietly.

"We weren't surprised when we heard that our Mother was pregnant again, well, at least I wasn't. Hannelore continued to make devious plans for her sibling, but slowly grew into an elder-sister figure, despite how long it took.

Achim was thrilled to hear that he would be an older brother, and it was cute to see him try to take care of our mother during her late pregnancy. He had been 'Mommy's little helper' for each and every month during our Mother's pregnancy. I, of course, helped as well. I had most of the responsibilities, on both sides of my parents. Thing like taking care of particular duties my Father simply could not make the time for, or completely watch over my Mother in the early morning and late at night when the others were unable. It was exhausting, to an extent, but I never complained.

But in the late hours, I would chat with my Mother about the child and our lives. She was perhaps the only person in my family that I could see eye to eye with. Or rather, someone I could actually be parented to. She was rest my head on her chest and sing me lullabies, like a baby, while gently stroking her ever growing belly. She was strong, at heart. And I envied that sort of nature. If I recall, we'd always have chipper conversations, and I could always tell her what was on my mind. And it was through these conversations that I devoted myself to the child in her belly, without bias.

"You are my eldest and precious son, Isaac. And though you may have the most responsibility as your Father's firstborn son and as the eldest out of your siblings, you are still a child, and will forever be my child. We are having another family member. - A girl, and her name will be Marceline. I want you to watch over her. And treat her with the kindness that fills your heart... for I will not always be here for them, your Father and I both. Watch over my little Marceline, and watch over your other siblings too. Hannelore, Achim... each of them. They do not yet understand the responsibility of how an older sibling should act, especially little Hannelore. She's quite the haughty one, is she not? And little Achim, he tries so hard to be like you two. Soon he will realize that he himself must cherish the person he was born with. Himself." He would always look to me and smile, smile so graciously and peer out of her bedroom window with longing eyes. As if, lost in the beauty of the kingdom below her. She resembled something along the lines of a caged dove. It was beautiful, yet tragic..."

"I know that as my Father's son, and as my younger sibling's elder brother, that it is my duty to watch over my blood and these villages. I promise that I will watch over Marceline as both friend and brother. She will never have to be alone, dear Mother. I will always and forever be your child, and so shall you be my Mother forever and until the ends of time itself." I would reassure her with the same lost smile, but filled with kindness and embrace.

It was soon after tens and tens of chats that Marceline was born, and the beauty she was. Long, raven black hair and crimson red eyes, pale skin and sharp eyes. She was quite fair. And I kept my promise, for a great part of her childhood, I had watched over her. I had did a fair share of teaching her, and cooking for her when Mother couldn't (And considering Hannelore's cooking is a gruesome death....). I would take outside the castle and explore, and have her meet the villagers. I would play with her and stay with her most of the time. I saw it as a happy and chipper time of my life, like most of the births of my siblings.

However, Hannelore and Achim tried to get their fair share of bonding time as well. But, their definitions of bonding escalated. Hannelore would lead them into cellars and into obviously-suspicious areas of the castle and kingdom and one of the sisters always got hurt. This had caused me to tell Achim to go with them whenever they went of 'adventures'.

But Achim never helped either. He was still hopelessly clumsy and always managed to cause problems for the group altogether.

However, Achim and Marceline never had much brother-sister time individually. Achim, at this point, was being privately tutored and busying himself with other matters. Which, more than often, was him addressing issues he makes for himself. But when they did spend time together, I reckoned that it was enjoyable, to say the least. I never really observed them when they did. Except Hannelore, she needed to be watched regardless...

The memories flooded back to him like a rushing river, his fingertips grazing it's aged text.

In the lounge room, Isaac sat solemnly with his tan shawl and tired demeanor, when suddenly the ship captain walked in.

"I just came in to tell you that we'll be arriving to Galuna Island in juuuust a few minutes, Mister Anicetus." He chuckled, he seemed to be rather young and innocent, dressed in all white and black, classic sailor color schemes.

"Alright, thank you." Isaac forced a hollow smile and nodded.

"Soo... going there for vacation? 'Cause I mean... yikes! Scary place, am I right? Haha." The young man smiled and rubbed the nape of his neck awkwardly, trying to make some small talk.

Noticing this, Isaac smirked and chuckled kindly. "Yes, well, I don't think I'll be here for more than a day."

Laughing in response, the captain smiled and nodded. "Right, right! Hey, so, whatcha 'readin?" He pointed to the rather worn journal in the hands of the bearded wizard, curious.

Isaac simply followed the direction where he was bobbing his head and sighed, "Just an old journal."

"Oooh, is that what it is? Haha, well, I'll leave you be, sir!" He bowed before dismissing himself, as Isaac simply went back to reading. "I suppose even I am considerate enough to write down what will happen today. Hopefully things go my way... hm..."

No matter how bitter and grim his past is, he kept this aged journal with him through thick and thin. But why?

"However, I could not. As sad as I was, I couldn't be the weaker one here, and always treated her the same, despite her illness. I would peel fruits for her, and do simple tasks for her, and sneak her out of the castle when she wasn't allowed. I loved her so much, and I feared that I was hurt the most to hear that she was ill. And that she was suffering.

But, I continued to watch over her and my siblings, but despite the illness, we all had happy childhoods..."

It was a desperate question, but perhaps it was to pity himself and his life back then. Perhaps it was because of the realization that happiness can be stripped away in the frame of a second. But otherwise, he read on, grumbling.

I was an adult, and had been residing in near and far villages from all across the lands. I had many memories of these villages and the villagers within it. Some were groups of hunters and huntresses, some were villages of farmers, some were towns and gatherers. And from a vast and diverse amount of villages, I had collected skills and knowledge.

I was more of a wanderer than anything, and would always come back to a particular village where this elderly lady, who ran an orphanage, would let me stay in her home. Her name was Rosaline, but the kids would always call her Mama Rosa, or Auntie Rosa. It was more particularly found in different age groups that determined what the kids called her.

But, I found a home in that village. A second family. At first, I didn't dare interact with the children, I felt as if a outside like I should not be associated with them. So like my younger self, I would watch, and I would wonder. Eventually, the kids themselves managed to just force me into playing with them. I initially did it out of politeness, who was I to reject a child's request of play? Soon, I grew close to them. All of them.

"Mister Anicetus! You came back today! Play with me and Marx!" Some would ask me.

Some would ask "Teach me how to read, Isaac!" or "Teach me how to cook, Isaac!". I remember their smiling faces, eager for learning. None of them were educated in anything. Some of them didn't even have names. So I named them myself. I was like... an older brother.

It was in those moments that I remember that I remember how truly selfish and pitiful I was. They were not just children I watched over, but people I used as comfort to recover from my little sister's death. If anything, they were my happy place. But I felt no shame in it. In such a use. I still cared for them.

The journal's pages began to thin out, as he felt his grip on the aged paper begin to lift and descend, he realized that he was reaching the end of his entries. Grudgingly, he read the last few bits.

"Rosaline was quiet, she had long, grey-white ragged hair that was tied up into a bun. She would always sit on the porch to the orphanage and sway back and forth of her rocking chair, weaving things like quilts and children's clothing. If I was not teaching these kids, or playing with them, I would be on that porch with her, drinking tea that she had taught me to make. She didn't speak at all, and sometimes I was convinced it was due to a disability. In all honesty, her eyes did fail on her. She was blind, but she only gave me one worded answers when I spoke to her. I didn't mind it at the time, I figured she was just a quiet old woman. But... even so, she taught me many things. About bonds, and relationships. If I remember correctly, she would speak to me softly, in a hoarse voice.

"Little Isaac, why don't you play with the children? They're quite fond of you, ever since you arrived here at the village." She would ask me.

"It's a nice, cool morning, Rosaline... I prefer to use my own time for my own things during hours like these." I would reply, but then she'd say things like this...

"Just how grass and bark should not be ignored in surviving the woods, children are only children until they are gone." And then she'd go silent again.

At the time... I didn't really understand what she meant, I just silently nodded and went back to my own business. "

"But it was through these little riddles that we became so close. She taught me how to knit, how to care for children's needs, how to cook, and many skills that could be useful for caring for children and other people in general. I wasn't sure if I'd really ever need these skills.

I spent several months in this village, until I left it to learn how to fight amongst the village of hunters and huntresses. They were quiet people, and lived efficiently. It was less civilized if anything, but they taught me well. It is where I learned to use a large arsenal of weapons. Gunnery, swords, spears, daggers, tonfas, and other diverse weaponry...

It wasn't memorable for their kindness, but for their brutality. No one dared to mess with them. But they were more or less peaceful people. And I learned how to protect myself and others because of them. I was specifically taught under their leader, Aristochus. And he taught me well. He was quite the odd fellow, and didn't speak much. I couldn't tell if he was disciplined and cold-hearted or just stubborn with his feelings. But I wasn't there to get to know him, we had more of a teacher-student relationship. But it wasn't like I had many other relationships different from that. Now, the village authorities were merciless people, let me tell you that. The law was the law, and you'd follow it or you'd follow execution's footsteps. They weren't strict rules, and weren't controversial, just simple to-do laws..."

But that is where the pages ended.