Blood splattered on the walls, distant screams of women and children, the flakes of burning wood cackling into the air, savage like battle cries and only a bright and glorious moon present to guide their bloody ways. That was perhaps the earliest memory that Isaac had of his early twenties, mass murdering, bringing genocide to lively villages that had been alive more than the villagers' ages combined, satisfaction found in one sided pleasures, torture. Back then, that sort of lifestyle wasn't so uncommon. But though plenty common, not at all painless.
He could remember slicing the children that he played with and guided in an orphanage, alongside a nice old lady who he slayed as well. All being beaten, killed, enslaved, amongst other things. Some may say that you grow immune to the pain and disgust of murder, but that would only apply to those who were born with cold, unforgiving blood. Of which, no matter how hard he tried to adapt, his warm heart would melt the iciness of the blood away.
This was some but centuries ago, but he couldn't help but grimly reminisce over his sinful actions. He could never go a day without questioning whether enjoying life's simplest pleasures should or should not be given to him, for he had slayed so many before they got the opportunity to even taste the air of oceans, or walk on their own two legs, or maybe even get to explore. He felt as if someone as punishable as he would not be able to enjoy the life he has been given knowing what he's done.
But he didn't have much of a goal, or an idea of how to repay for his crimes. He sought death, but that was a silly option. He saw it as an easy way out of his sins, and he, a man of honor and truth, would not take exit so easily.
So, he came to the conclusion to lead, guide, and help other for his career as both wizard and Rune Knight. And so, he will. He does not expect the job to be easy, and may even sacrifice his life in order to achieve such a protection if need be, but he would always be ready for that. Despite what greed or selfishness he may be fed.
On that note, Isaac's eyes had fluttered open, revealing his golden-yellow eyes, which would only gaze at the ceiling unmoving. "..." And said nothing, indeed.
Sighing, he raised himself from the pillow and upper half of the mattress, running his fingers through his short hair, then taking that same hand and looking at it. He wasn't the same as he was a few centuries ago, and no day passed without him grimly irking over it. Though, at this period of time he had grown used to the physical changes.
His legs had flipped over on the edge of the bed, ripping the thin sheets off of his body with no regard for how he left his bed. If anything, he felt groggy this morning, and genuinely preferred not to work, but he was appointed to tag along in a patrol with other Rune Knight peers in rather idle towns.
Standing up from the bed with an irritable expression, he twisted and turned his body in order to make an effort to stretch, which worked out perfectly as he proceeded to his wardrobe to commence his morning procedure. His mahogany doors to the wardrobe swung open swiftly, revealing a long green coat, brown pants, knee-high boots, a tan scarf, and a red fez hat. Along with a mask, considering his face is usually obscured by a white mask. He had plenty of other dos as well, but this one was most appropriate for missions requiring travel or a some sort of hike, under the assumption that they would be traveling in the first place.
Quickly and efficiently, he reached into the wardrobe and proceeded to dress himself appropriately, soon afterwards he head downstairs without truly bestowing attention to his bed or tidiness of his room and how he left it, and figured that he would come back to do all of that in the evening.
On that note, he walked down the stairs and over to his kitchen. This particular home was in Hargeon Town, and in fact owned several homes in different towns and places. This certainly came in handy when he needed to station in different areas of Fiore, how likely that was.
Regarding the kitchen, it was tidier than every other room in his home. - Why? Well, that question was simple. He never used it. He couldn't cook, whatsoever. It wasn't so tidy and untouched-like because he cleaned it a lot, but because none of it's facilities were ever used, hence only being cleaned when the natural hindrances would collect in them. He'd always eat out or buy something for breakfast, and although hungry, he'd pick something up on the way to the mission destination.
Isaac simply turned toward the direction of the kitchen, simply staring. I should probably learn how to fix my own meals, it'll save a lot of money... He spoke to himself thoughtfully, not exactly pleased with the expenses paid when purchasing a meal so simple that even a child could make it.
In fact, when he was living with his parents and younger siblings, he could cook skillfully, and would sometimes prepare meals for the family as a whole, especially for his younger sister, who's whereabouts are currently unknown to him, though desperately wishing to retrieve such information.
But it had appeared that such skills had faded in time, harsh winters and scorching summers had passed where cooking skills were futile in his cult, seeing as they found their own means to dining, which was a sickening fact in of itself. Not particularly something Isaac found pleasure in remembering, for it still haunted him in his dreams and slumber. Preferably why he avoided meat.
Regardless, Isaac proceeded towards the door of his home, snatching the key to said home on his way out the door, opening it with a swift pull and locking it from behind, attaching the loose key to his belt. With the subtle sound of his key dangling with every movement, it beckoned a sense of nostalgia as he looked up and gazed at his home. No matter how many residences he owned, not one ever seemed to recreate the true feeling of home, but it had appeared that he had bared the burden of the memory of a happy family in the Kingdom of Sin, centuries ago.
Or was it perhaps the loneliness and guilt he felt for rendering unable to save and rescue his son and now deceased wife. At the time, the age was one of murder, anarchy, and depression. So it was expected for his wife to be murdered upon exposure to such terrible qualities, and for his son to be taken by the hands of a stranger. But the guilt of failing to be a reliable partner and parent was a burden and guilt that would follow him until death, if not after death as well.
He sighed, turning around and proceeding down to the cobblestone roads. And what awaited him at the bottom of the steps surprised him. A young, diminutive man with a cheerful expression softly humming with his arms crossed behind his back, tapping his foot giddily. Isaac recognized the uniform he was wearing, and realized that he would happen to be affiliated with delivering messages to Rune Knights. Of course, he wasn't exactly sure why he was there. Everything that he had to do today was composed into a letter formally written by those who assign Rune Knight jobs, so he was forced to assume that it was all he needed to know. Of course, things change all the time, and he'd rather not question why the man was here, and just confront him.
On that note, Isaac made it to the last step and stood just beside the patient man, who then turned to him with a smile from ear to ear. "Good morning, Mister Anicetus! My name is Yoshiro Garner, and I come to you with some updates and changes." He leaned in, a rather questionable looking his eyes as Isaac raised a brow and nodded.
"Updates and... changes?" He paused on that last note, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the unhealthy amount of giddiness the man expressed.
"Why, yes! I know you were supposed to patrol a town with a group of men from the Rune Knights today,"
"Yes.."
"But instead, you've been ordered to investigate unusual magical activity in Oak Town with the possible company of other wizards, from any guild. However, please cooperate with them despite their alignments or relations with you or your profession. Details include for you to find it's source and to stabilize it as soon as possible. We wouldn't want innocent citizens to get hurt, would we?"
"Well, yes. But this is so sudden, do I need anything to prepare?" Isaac asked a bit disappointed, but it wasn't like he gained or lost anything from the sudden change in plans, but it was certainly something differing from the usual patrol.
At that, Yoshiro had looked at Isaac from shoe to head, several times actually. It wasn't like Isaac minded, but he certainly did push a boundary or two...
"Looks to me that you seem all ready for any job, really. Nothing a Rune Knight shouldn't be prepared for. - Anyway! Here's payment for any traveling expenses you may need to in order to get there," And like that, the rather short man handed him a light bag of jewels, and estimated the amount of about ten thousand in it's insides, which seemed a bit much to pay for the trip to the town just right over the one they were in.
"Oh, that's quite alright, I can pay for my own trans--"Reluctantly, Isaac offered the bag back to the man, but had seemed to be ignored.
"and on that note, please report in when you've completed the task! Good day." He bowed and skipped off, Isaac simply stood there with a icy expression, holding the bag and stood as still as a statue before looking down to examine it. "That wasn't really necessary, but I'll put it to use anyway.."
It was ten thousand jewels, and could afford a rather handsome amount of food for breakfast, or at least on the way over to Oak Town. Now, Hargeon Town was special, indeed. In fact, in the recent years, it had been told that a large, hideous sea monster had invaded these ports, turning the town into bits and pieces, and are currently rebuilding the town. Most of it had appeared in the works, but sufficient to get by. Of course, the residence he had been renting over in this town was one of the newer ones, and did not cease to please.
There wasn’t a lot of wealthy people here, and the people who were didn’t have much more to show than any other person or commoner. Which completely defeats the image of corruption of money and wealth. But, Isaac had always been courteous with those type of subjects, never having a signs displaying a superiority-inferiority complex, though to a small degree, he did have one.
However, the complex mainly showed in terms with a guild topic, as such with illegal wizards, organizations, and guilds. He had saw himself above basic crimes, but that was about it. In Isaac’s head, he didn’t believe in a ‘good’ or a ‘bad, a ‘Light’ or an ‘Evil’, this falsity that had been implemented into the minds of mankind, or these kingdoms, rather.
And on that note, Isaac hadn’t been to too many nations either, Sin was perhaps the only one he had been to, seeing as it was his home and birthplace from child, to adolescence to young adult, unfortunately, many events had taken place since then. Many events that would probably sit with the brunette for the rest of his life. Events that would strike him so grimly upon the reminiscence of his two sons, of which their whereabouts still went unknown to him.
The remorse of his first son were absolutely heart wrenching to the young, brunette man. Only but a few centuries ago had he met a young woman, only a few years younger than him at the time, who happened to be the daughter and head huntress of the village his mentor, the leader of the village, had resided in. Now, at the time, Isaac had been travelling all across Sin, visiting several villages and even staying as far as helping run an orphanage, which had been conveniently placed in the same village adjacent to the one he met this young lady. This village had been one of hunters and warriors, just the reason Isaac had sought them out. Isaac did not recognize himself as a wizard, for in that period of time he had no magical capabilities. So he headed forth to that very village to be trained under the hand and eye of the village leader, Raskan. He wasn’t particularly a talkative guy, but wasn’t remote to communication either. He was aged, or middle aged, rather, in his late forties or early fifties, the identification wasn’t so clear to him after so much time had passed. Regardless, Isaac and Raskan spent several days and nights together, training and forming a bond. Eventually, when Isaac had acquired basic skills of a warrior (After several months work…) he had been sent to spar with his daughter, who went by the name of Setta. Now, back then, Isaac wasn’t nearly as jaded as he was now, which speaks for itself.
Raskan would leave the two to spar day after day under his supervision, and eventually, Setta and Isaac began to spar without the order of Raskan; purely for fun. Strange how bonds can form in battle, stranger still how close those bonds could mend to a person’s heart.
Eventually, the two would spend many nights together, talking, and just relaxing outside. Now, Setta at first was quite the cold and cruel fellow. She bestowed no and no sympathy for every time Isaac had been hopelessly beaten into the dirt by her. In fact, when they first met, she saw fighting someone as mediocre as Isaac as an insult. Of course, Isaac being the young man he was back then, did not get along with Setta very well. They were more or less passive aggressive with one another, if they were thrown into a full blown argument.
Setta, feeling superior to Isaac, made no efforts to aid him in his struggle in combat. However, Isaac thought differently. He had trained vigorously to defeat Setta, a determination fueled more by a irritating rivalry rather than other ambitions, like self defense and basic combat abilities.
Eventually, or so it appeared, Setta had noticed his efforts and had decided to challenge him, and with a burning determination and smug confidence, Isaac had won. At this point in time, Raskan had settled with Isaac being the superior warrior and had cancelled his supervision of his spars. However, Setta did not settle for a defeat, and the two went at it for months, unconsciously honing their skills with every battle.
Months had passed, and the two had grown out of their foe-like rivalry, and had connected through combat, learning about each other more and more, and beginning to open up to one another every now and then. Setta, proven to be as sweet as honey and easily embarrassed, was much softer and sweet on the inside rather than her shell out the exterior. And Isaac, deeming himself a kind, generous and reliable young man, always looking out for others out of habit from being the eldest of his siblings, and though they were all growing up now, the caring, elderly brother nature never seemed to fade away.
Isaac smiled softly to the faint memory, but he could clearly remember something as simple as the silliest things they did together.
He remembered that they they went out to pick fruit and berries for the village festival that night, in fact.
“Do you need help?” He would turn to face Setta, who would be trying to reach for an apple on the branch of a tree, from her tippy toes.
“No. I can get it by myself, thank you.” Setta would reply, rather pridefully, though obviously struggling with getting it. She wasn’t the tallest person, but Isaac supposed that women were naturally five feet and six inches and under naturally, Setta only stood around five foot four, while the other huntresses would be at least five feet and six inches. Of course, though the code back then being strict on size, Setta had become the leader of huntresses with remarkable perseverance and determination, and her skills did not cease to impress.
“Are you sure… I mean, you look like you--”
“I said that I can get it myself, you fat boar!” Setta’s face would flush a faint pink while her brows furrowed in irritation, she was surely a confident person. Isaac would simply stand there with both had hooked on the basket, which held twice as many apples than her basket, which wa
s almost halfway full. Frankly, he was shocked that she got so many in the first place, a lot of these trees were very statuous and large. The shorter ones were towards the center of the forest, or so he remembered it.
Setta began to reach and leap for the apple, coming a little closer every time to the branch which would bare juicy fruit and berries. It was little things like these that proved how impressive the young woman was amongst the others. It was every day you came across a person who could jump so close to a tree branch from a tree of average size. Isaac, who would appear lost in the awe of the moment, smiled.
“I think there are better ways to get apples, Setta.” He would place his woven basket with scattered apples filling it onto the ground, and reach for his pocket.
“Oh.. where is it-- ?” Isaac was cut off mid sentence when Setta would run over to him with a smirk, reaching for his pants.
“For a fat boar, I guess even you can have a brain bigger than a peanut, huh?” Setta had ‘complimented’ him as she reached for his dagger, thinking that Isaac was about to propose that she’d use it, which was completely untrue. He was going to offer her some rocks that she could use to hit the apples off the tree… which was clearly misunderstood. Or rather, she was just impulsive.
Isaac would widen his eyes and shake his arms in front of his, disagreeing with her vehemently. “No, no, Setta. I wasn’t trying to give you the dagger, I was trying to gi-- !!”
“Hyah!” Setta would launch the dagger to the apple, hitting it directly in it’s center before it fell just right into her palm while dagger would fall onto the ground as hell. She looked back to him and smirked haughtily, “See? It was a good idea, you fat boar.”
Isaac would roll his eyes and sigh, smiling gently. “Yeah, well, if you keep getting apples that way, then your village is gonna have questions.”
“Why do you think that?” Setta puffed out her cheeks and raised a brow as Isaac would proceed to pick up the now moist dagger, wiping it with the hem of his shirt.
“Well, the fruit will have a bunch of holes in them. However,” Isaac tossed the dagger to Setta, the hilt facing her hands, “it was certainly more efficient that what you were doing before that. So here.”
Setta clumsily had dropped the apple trying to catch the dagger without cutting herself, which she didn’t, but the apple had now been on the dirt-covered grounds.
“Go get some more, and this time, aim for the stem of the apple. I don’t want to be held accountable for your reckless apple picking.” Isaac chuckled, leaning down to pick up his basket and go off to get more apples.
Setta had twitching eyebrows and a red flushed face at this point, watching him walk off with her flustered expression. “I will get twice as many apples than you will get by sundown!” She spoke in a rather provocative tone, issuing a challenge.
And it was because of that particular comment that he stopped mid-turn and glared back to her with the same challenging, smug look. “Knowing my skills and basic understanding that apples should not have holes in them prove that I will reign superior in this trial!”
Setta’s eyebrow had twitched in irritation to his confidence, though certainly not going to back down. “You’re just a fat boar! So it’s obvious that I will win!”
“Ooohoho… you’re on, you brat!” Isaac had then rushed to the nearest trees which held the most fruit, climbing up the trees and snatching the apples in pairs of two and three. While Setta on the other hand had been sometimes-accurately and sometimes-poorly launching the dagger to the apples, and you could see an assortment of a mixture of pierced apples and perfectly-picked ones, but at sundown, it was a draw, however, Setta’s apples had poorer quality than his, and happened to bicker about it all the way back to the village, which they both endeavoured in festivities. Nevertheless, the two had fun, even if these silly competitions happened every other day, if not every day.
Isaac, who had been lost in thought at the staircase, snapped back to reality before sighing. ...Well, it was just a memory. He thought to himself, as suddenly the thought of his family came to mind. Ah, yes, his family. A Father, a Mother, and several siblings. He had written in his journal about it, and had remembered word from word. Little segments describing his experiences, which was stored away in his desk inside his home. He had read it so many times, and would sometimes repeat it in his head, just to make sure he’d never ever forget any moment that he had written.
Segments that went as follows:
“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.
Late Childhood (10-12, Birth of Achim)
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 tried to be adventurous and danger-seeking like Hannelore, but always ended up getting hurt or frustrated. But we still loved him all the same, and though Hannelore urged him to take it easy, she would always make him jealous over all of the things she had bragged of doing (Like... slaying a bear... which awfully just looked like a horse... she exaggerated a lot). I happened to be the one who would bring logic and realistic scenarios and would continue to become the ideal, elder brother they both looked up to as a guardian and as a sibling.
My relationship was Achim was along the borders of teacher-student than brother and brother, but it ended up with us being relatively close with one another. I taught him things I learned in my lessons, but he wasn't quite old enough to understand it or be taught it by an official tutor. But it was nice to express that knowledge with a blood brother. He never grew out of his shy and timid nature, at the time. And we never really grew closer than brothers should. Father had become busier with each child, but would always spend time with us as he was given the chances. I, myself, slowly began to lose interest in my Father's treatment towards me and my siblings. Our conversations slowly became more professional and short. Our relationship was starting to take a turn.
Early Adolescence (14-16, Birth of Marceline)
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.
But despite their natures, Hannelore and Achim had transitioned into proper elder siblings figures, and though the two had bickered a lot, they had each went out of their way to guide and amuse Marceline. I, of course, usually had the final say in things, but I was still more of the 'Silent and Stoic' character amongst the siblings. I could not recall a dreadful time in this childhood. Achim had become one of intellect and open-minded, while Hannelore had found herself becoming exceptionally... well adjusted. By that, I mean that she always had good judgement. She always guided others down the right path and had a good sense of just, but she was always foul mouthed. And even though she was right, more than often, she would follow it with a 'Told you so!' or 'Of course I was right.' remark. She was still very haughty and prideful but we couldn't complain.
Marceline, of course, had been growing into a lovely young woman. Throughout her lifetime, my Father and Mother had always barraged her in love, while I had been growing into more professional and stricter routines and schedules, usually given by my Father. It was as if our relationship had been degraded into one of boss-and-employee. I, per say, didn't mind this sort of treatment, seeing as it was a birthright and a responsibility that only I could rightfully take on, but it was also a pity that I was slowly growing out of the love my Father had constantly bestowed upon my siblings.
This was the childhood that my Father and I had started to disconnect from our loving relationship, and into more of a do this and do that sort of thing. However, my Mother and I had still remained close and stable.
I could say that Marceline and I had the closest relationship amongst the family, in my eyes. We had always spent time together, and even if it was just sitting somewhere and peeling an orange, it was still memorable.
But all good things must meet their ends, as always. Marceline had come down with an illness, one that was incurable. We didn't know what was wrong with her, but her symptoms had made her disgustingly uncomfortable. Doctors from many lands had came in her aid, but there was nothing they could do. We weren't certain if it was fatal or not, or if it was more around the lines of severe allergies, but all we could do is mourn.
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.
Late Adolescence (17-20, Birth of Leni & Katerina)
Oh boy... where to begin with these two?
My Mother had just given birth to to twin sisters, Katerina and Leni, who were both troublemakers to their respective limits….”
There was much more to these little segments, not all about his childhood:
“During My Travels...
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.
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…..”
Many more little notes he had written would litter his mind, but he had focused on getting to Oak Town for the time being. And just like that, Isaac had taken the train to to the town, greeted by salty waters’ air and the gentle waves of the people. Isaac couldn’t help but feel welcomed by the town, and headed straight for the site-of-investigation, which happened to be a heavily wooded area, of which the townspeople would retrieve their lumber from.
True, Isaac did sense magical irregularity within these woods, but had decided to cease his further investigation until his partner had arrived. ”I suppose I’ll wait here…” He spoke softly as he leaned against the shaft of a tree with crossed arms, at the scene of the magical irregularity.
WC: 7045
Notes: 17 out of 40 Posts complete, (33 Posts remaining)
He could remember slicing the children that he played with and guided in an orphanage, alongside a nice old lady who he slayed as well. All being beaten, killed, enslaved, amongst other things. Some may say that you grow immune to the pain and disgust of murder, but that would only apply to those who were born with cold, unforgiving blood. Of which, no matter how hard he tried to adapt, his warm heart would melt the iciness of the blood away.
This was some but centuries ago, but he couldn't help but grimly reminisce over his sinful actions. He could never go a day without questioning whether enjoying life's simplest pleasures should or should not be given to him, for he had slayed so many before they got the opportunity to even taste the air of oceans, or walk on their own two legs, or maybe even get to explore. He felt as if someone as punishable as he would not be able to enjoy the life he has been given knowing what he's done.
But he didn't have much of a goal, or an idea of how to repay for his crimes. He sought death, but that was a silly option. He saw it as an easy way out of his sins, and he, a man of honor and truth, would not take exit so easily.
So, he came to the conclusion to lead, guide, and help other for his career as both wizard and Rune Knight. And so, he will. He does not expect the job to be easy, and may even sacrifice his life in order to achieve such a protection if need be, but he would always be ready for that. Despite what greed or selfishness he may be fed.
On that note, Isaac's eyes had fluttered open, revealing his golden-yellow eyes, which would only gaze at the ceiling unmoving. "..." And said nothing, indeed.
Sighing, he raised himself from the pillow and upper half of the mattress, running his fingers through his short hair, then taking that same hand and looking at it. He wasn't the same as he was a few centuries ago, and no day passed without him grimly irking over it. Though, at this period of time he had grown used to the physical changes.
His legs had flipped over on the edge of the bed, ripping the thin sheets off of his body with no regard for how he left his bed. If anything, he felt groggy this morning, and genuinely preferred not to work, but he was appointed to tag along in a patrol with other Rune Knight peers in rather idle towns.
Standing up from the bed with an irritable expression, he twisted and turned his body in order to make an effort to stretch, which worked out perfectly as he proceeded to his wardrobe to commence his morning procedure. His mahogany doors to the wardrobe swung open swiftly, revealing a long green coat, brown pants, knee-high boots, a tan scarf, and a red fez hat. Along with a mask, considering his face is usually obscured by a white mask. He had plenty of other dos as well, but this one was most appropriate for missions requiring travel or a some sort of hike, under the assumption that they would be traveling in the first place.
Quickly and efficiently, he reached into the wardrobe and proceeded to dress himself appropriately, soon afterwards he head downstairs without truly bestowing attention to his bed or tidiness of his room and how he left it, and figured that he would come back to do all of that in the evening.
On that note, he walked down the stairs and over to his kitchen. This particular home was in Hargeon Town, and in fact owned several homes in different towns and places. This certainly came in handy when he needed to station in different areas of Fiore, how likely that was.
Regarding the kitchen, it was tidier than every other room in his home. - Why? Well, that question was simple. He never used it. He couldn't cook, whatsoever. It wasn't so tidy and untouched-like because he cleaned it a lot, but because none of it's facilities were ever used, hence only being cleaned when the natural hindrances would collect in them. He'd always eat out or buy something for breakfast, and although hungry, he'd pick something up on the way to the mission destination.
Isaac simply turned toward the direction of the kitchen, simply staring. I should probably learn how to fix my own meals, it'll save a lot of money... He spoke to himself thoughtfully, not exactly pleased with the expenses paid when purchasing a meal so simple that even a child could make it.
In fact, when he was living with his parents and younger siblings, he could cook skillfully, and would sometimes prepare meals for the family as a whole, especially for his younger sister, who's whereabouts are currently unknown to him, though desperately wishing to retrieve such information.
But it had appeared that such skills had faded in time, harsh winters and scorching summers had passed where cooking skills were futile in his cult, seeing as they found their own means to dining, which was a sickening fact in of itself. Not particularly something Isaac found pleasure in remembering, for it still haunted him in his dreams and slumber. Preferably why he avoided meat.
Regardless, Isaac proceeded towards the door of his home, snatching the key to said home on his way out the door, opening it with a swift pull and locking it from behind, attaching the loose key to his belt. With the subtle sound of his key dangling with every movement, it beckoned a sense of nostalgia as he looked up and gazed at his home. No matter how many residences he owned, not one ever seemed to recreate the true feeling of home, but it had appeared that he had bared the burden of the memory of a happy family in the Kingdom of Sin, centuries ago.
Or was it perhaps the loneliness and guilt he felt for rendering unable to save and rescue his son and now deceased wife. At the time, the age was one of murder, anarchy, and depression. So it was expected for his wife to be murdered upon exposure to such terrible qualities, and for his son to be taken by the hands of a stranger. But the guilt of failing to be a reliable partner and parent was a burden and guilt that would follow him until death, if not after death as well.
He sighed, turning around and proceeding down to the cobblestone roads. And what awaited him at the bottom of the steps surprised him. A young, diminutive man with a cheerful expression softly humming with his arms crossed behind his back, tapping his foot giddily. Isaac recognized the uniform he was wearing, and realized that he would happen to be affiliated with delivering messages to Rune Knights. Of course, he wasn't exactly sure why he was there. Everything that he had to do today was composed into a letter formally written by those who assign Rune Knight jobs, so he was forced to assume that it was all he needed to know. Of course, things change all the time, and he'd rather not question why the man was here, and just confront him.
On that note, Isaac made it to the last step and stood just beside the patient man, who then turned to him with a smile from ear to ear. "Good morning, Mister Anicetus! My name is Yoshiro Garner, and I come to you with some updates and changes." He leaned in, a rather questionable looking his eyes as Isaac raised a brow and nodded.
"Updates and... changes?" He paused on that last note, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the unhealthy amount of giddiness the man expressed.
"Why, yes! I know you were supposed to patrol a town with a group of men from the Rune Knights today,"
"Yes.."
"But instead, you've been ordered to investigate unusual magical activity in Oak Town with the possible company of other wizards, from any guild. However, please cooperate with them despite their alignments or relations with you or your profession. Details include for you to find it's source and to stabilize it as soon as possible. We wouldn't want innocent citizens to get hurt, would we?"
"Well, yes. But this is so sudden, do I need anything to prepare?" Isaac asked a bit disappointed, but it wasn't like he gained or lost anything from the sudden change in plans, but it was certainly something differing from the usual patrol.
At that, Yoshiro had looked at Isaac from shoe to head, several times actually. It wasn't like Isaac minded, but he certainly did push a boundary or two...
"Looks to me that you seem all ready for any job, really. Nothing a Rune Knight shouldn't be prepared for. - Anyway! Here's payment for any traveling expenses you may need to in order to get there," And like that, the rather short man handed him a light bag of jewels, and estimated the amount of about ten thousand in it's insides, which seemed a bit much to pay for the trip to the town just right over the one they were in.
"Oh, that's quite alright, I can pay for my own trans--"Reluctantly, Isaac offered the bag back to the man, but had seemed to be ignored.
"and on that note, please report in when you've completed the task! Good day." He bowed and skipped off, Isaac simply stood there with a icy expression, holding the bag and stood as still as a statue before looking down to examine it. "That wasn't really necessary, but I'll put it to use anyway.."
It was ten thousand jewels, and could afford a rather handsome amount of food for breakfast, or at least on the way over to Oak Town. Now, Hargeon Town was special, indeed. In fact, in the recent years, it had been told that a large, hideous sea monster had invaded these ports, turning the town into bits and pieces, and are currently rebuilding the town. Most of it had appeared in the works, but sufficient to get by. Of course, the residence he had been renting over in this town was one of the newer ones, and did not cease to please.
There wasn’t a lot of wealthy people here, and the people who were didn’t have much more to show than any other person or commoner. Which completely defeats the image of corruption of money and wealth. But, Isaac had always been courteous with those type of subjects, never having a signs displaying a superiority-inferiority complex, though to a small degree, he did have one.
However, the complex mainly showed in terms with a guild topic, as such with illegal wizards, organizations, and guilds. He had saw himself above basic crimes, but that was about it. In Isaac’s head, he didn’t believe in a ‘good’ or a ‘bad, a ‘Light’ or an ‘Evil’, this falsity that had been implemented into the minds of mankind, or these kingdoms, rather.
And on that note, Isaac hadn’t been to too many nations either, Sin was perhaps the only one he had been to, seeing as it was his home and birthplace from child, to adolescence to young adult, unfortunately, many events had taken place since then. Many events that would probably sit with the brunette for the rest of his life. Events that would strike him so grimly upon the reminiscence of his two sons, of which their whereabouts still went unknown to him.
The remorse of his first son were absolutely heart wrenching to the young, brunette man. Only but a few centuries ago had he met a young woman, only a few years younger than him at the time, who happened to be the daughter and head huntress of the village his mentor, the leader of the village, had resided in. Now, at the time, Isaac had been travelling all across Sin, visiting several villages and even staying as far as helping run an orphanage, which had been conveniently placed in the same village adjacent to the one he met this young lady. This village had been one of hunters and warriors, just the reason Isaac had sought them out. Isaac did not recognize himself as a wizard, for in that period of time he had no magical capabilities. So he headed forth to that very village to be trained under the hand and eye of the village leader, Raskan. He wasn’t particularly a talkative guy, but wasn’t remote to communication either. He was aged, or middle aged, rather, in his late forties or early fifties, the identification wasn’t so clear to him after so much time had passed. Regardless, Isaac and Raskan spent several days and nights together, training and forming a bond. Eventually, when Isaac had acquired basic skills of a warrior (After several months work…) he had been sent to spar with his daughter, who went by the name of Setta. Now, back then, Isaac wasn’t nearly as jaded as he was now, which speaks for itself.
Raskan would leave the two to spar day after day under his supervision, and eventually, Setta and Isaac began to spar without the order of Raskan; purely for fun. Strange how bonds can form in battle, stranger still how close those bonds could mend to a person’s heart.
Eventually, the two would spend many nights together, talking, and just relaxing outside. Now, Setta at first was quite the cold and cruel fellow. She bestowed no and no sympathy for every time Isaac had been hopelessly beaten into the dirt by her. In fact, when they first met, she saw fighting someone as mediocre as Isaac as an insult. Of course, Isaac being the young man he was back then, did not get along with Setta very well. They were more or less passive aggressive with one another, if they were thrown into a full blown argument.
Setta, feeling superior to Isaac, made no efforts to aid him in his struggle in combat. However, Isaac thought differently. He had trained vigorously to defeat Setta, a determination fueled more by a irritating rivalry rather than other ambitions, like self defense and basic combat abilities.
Eventually, or so it appeared, Setta had noticed his efforts and had decided to challenge him, and with a burning determination and smug confidence, Isaac had won. At this point in time, Raskan had settled with Isaac being the superior warrior and had cancelled his supervision of his spars. However, Setta did not settle for a defeat, and the two went at it for months, unconsciously honing their skills with every battle.
Months had passed, and the two had grown out of their foe-like rivalry, and had connected through combat, learning about each other more and more, and beginning to open up to one another every now and then. Setta, proven to be as sweet as honey and easily embarrassed, was much softer and sweet on the inside rather than her shell out the exterior. And Isaac, deeming himself a kind, generous and reliable young man, always looking out for others out of habit from being the eldest of his siblings, and though they were all growing up now, the caring, elderly brother nature never seemed to fade away.
Isaac smiled softly to the faint memory, but he could clearly remember something as simple as the silliest things they did together.
He remembered that they they went out to pick fruit and berries for the village festival that night, in fact.
“Do you need help?” He would turn to face Setta, who would be trying to reach for an apple on the branch of a tree, from her tippy toes.
“No. I can get it by myself, thank you.” Setta would reply, rather pridefully, though obviously struggling with getting it. She wasn’t the tallest person, but Isaac supposed that women were naturally five feet and six inches and under naturally, Setta only stood around five foot four, while the other huntresses would be at least five feet and six inches. Of course, though the code back then being strict on size, Setta had become the leader of huntresses with remarkable perseverance and determination, and her skills did not cease to impress.
“Are you sure… I mean, you look like you--”
“I said that I can get it myself, you fat boar!” Setta’s face would flush a faint pink while her brows furrowed in irritation, she was surely a confident person. Isaac would simply stand there with both had hooked on the basket, which held twice as many apples than her basket, which wa
s almost halfway full. Frankly, he was shocked that she got so many in the first place, a lot of these trees were very statuous and large. The shorter ones were towards the center of the forest, or so he remembered it.
Setta began to reach and leap for the apple, coming a little closer every time to the branch which would bare juicy fruit and berries. It was little things like these that proved how impressive the young woman was amongst the others. It was every day you came across a person who could jump so close to a tree branch from a tree of average size. Isaac, who would appear lost in the awe of the moment, smiled.
“I think there are better ways to get apples, Setta.” He would place his woven basket with scattered apples filling it onto the ground, and reach for his pocket.
“Oh.. where is it-- ?” Isaac was cut off mid sentence when Setta would run over to him with a smirk, reaching for his pants.
“For a fat boar, I guess even you can have a brain bigger than a peanut, huh?” Setta had ‘complimented’ him as she reached for his dagger, thinking that Isaac was about to propose that she’d use it, which was completely untrue. He was going to offer her some rocks that she could use to hit the apples off the tree… which was clearly misunderstood. Or rather, she was just impulsive.
Isaac would widen his eyes and shake his arms in front of his, disagreeing with her vehemently. “No, no, Setta. I wasn’t trying to give you the dagger, I was trying to gi-- !!”
“Hyah!” Setta would launch the dagger to the apple, hitting it directly in it’s center before it fell just right into her palm while dagger would fall onto the ground as hell. She looked back to him and smirked haughtily, “See? It was a good idea, you fat boar.”
Isaac would roll his eyes and sigh, smiling gently. “Yeah, well, if you keep getting apples that way, then your village is gonna have questions.”
“Why do you think that?” Setta puffed out her cheeks and raised a brow as Isaac would proceed to pick up the now moist dagger, wiping it with the hem of his shirt.
“Well, the fruit will have a bunch of holes in them. However,” Isaac tossed the dagger to Setta, the hilt facing her hands, “it was certainly more efficient that what you were doing before that. So here.”
Setta clumsily had dropped the apple trying to catch the dagger without cutting herself, which she didn’t, but the apple had now been on the dirt-covered grounds.
“Go get some more, and this time, aim for the stem of the apple. I don’t want to be held accountable for your reckless apple picking.” Isaac chuckled, leaning down to pick up his basket and go off to get more apples.
Setta had twitching eyebrows and a red flushed face at this point, watching him walk off with her flustered expression. “I will get twice as many apples than you will get by sundown!” She spoke in a rather provocative tone, issuing a challenge.
And it was because of that particular comment that he stopped mid-turn and glared back to her with the same challenging, smug look. “Knowing my skills and basic understanding that apples should not have holes in them prove that I will reign superior in this trial!”
Setta’s eyebrow had twitched in irritation to his confidence, though certainly not going to back down. “You’re just a fat boar! So it’s obvious that I will win!”
“Ooohoho… you’re on, you brat!” Isaac had then rushed to the nearest trees which held the most fruit, climbing up the trees and snatching the apples in pairs of two and three. While Setta on the other hand had been sometimes-accurately and sometimes-poorly launching the dagger to the apples, and you could see an assortment of a mixture of pierced apples and perfectly-picked ones, but at sundown, it was a draw, however, Setta’s apples had poorer quality than his, and happened to bicker about it all the way back to the village, which they both endeavoured in festivities. Nevertheless, the two had fun, even if these silly competitions happened every other day, if not every day.
Isaac, who had been lost in thought at the staircase, snapped back to reality before sighing. ...Well, it was just a memory. He thought to himself, as suddenly the thought of his family came to mind. Ah, yes, his family. A Father, a Mother, and several siblings. He had written in his journal about it, and had remembered word from word. Little segments describing his experiences, which was stored away in his desk inside his home. He had read it so many times, and would sometimes repeat it in his head, just to make sure he’d never ever forget any moment that he had written.
Segments that went as follows:
“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.
Late Childhood (10-12, Birth of Achim)
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 tried to be adventurous and danger-seeking like Hannelore, but always ended up getting hurt or frustrated. But we still loved him all the same, and though Hannelore urged him to take it easy, she would always make him jealous over all of the things she had bragged of doing (Like... slaying a bear... which awfully just looked like a horse... she exaggerated a lot). I happened to be the one who would bring logic and realistic scenarios and would continue to become the ideal, elder brother they both looked up to as a guardian and as a sibling.
My relationship was Achim was along the borders of teacher-student than brother and brother, but it ended up with us being relatively close with one another. I taught him things I learned in my lessons, but he wasn't quite old enough to understand it or be taught it by an official tutor. But it was nice to express that knowledge with a blood brother. He never grew out of his shy and timid nature, at the time. And we never really grew closer than brothers should. Father had become busier with each child, but would always spend time with us as he was given the chances. I, myself, slowly began to lose interest in my Father's treatment towards me and my siblings. Our conversations slowly became more professional and short. Our relationship was starting to take a turn.
Early Adolescence (14-16, Birth of Marceline)
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.
But despite their natures, Hannelore and Achim had transitioned into proper elder siblings figures, and though the two had bickered a lot, they had each went out of their way to guide and amuse Marceline. I, of course, usually had the final say in things, but I was still more of the 'Silent and Stoic' character amongst the siblings. I could not recall a dreadful time in this childhood. Achim had become one of intellect and open-minded, while Hannelore had found herself becoming exceptionally... well adjusted. By that, I mean that she always had good judgement. She always guided others down the right path and had a good sense of just, but she was always foul mouthed. And even though she was right, more than often, she would follow it with a 'Told you so!' or 'Of course I was right.' remark. She was still very haughty and prideful but we couldn't complain.
Marceline, of course, had been growing into a lovely young woman. Throughout her lifetime, my Father and Mother had always barraged her in love, while I had been growing into more professional and stricter routines and schedules, usually given by my Father. It was as if our relationship had been degraded into one of boss-and-employee. I, per say, didn't mind this sort of treatment, seeing as it was a birthright and a responsibility that only I could rightfully take on, but it was also a pity that I was slowly growing out of the love my Father had constantly bestowed upon my siblings.
This was the childhood that my Father and I had started to disconnect from our loving relationship, and into more of a do this and do that sort of thing. However, my Mother and I had still remained close and stable.
I could say that Marceline and I had the closest relationship amongst the family, in my eyes. We had always spent time together, and even if it was just sitting somewhere and peeling an orange, it was still memorable.
But all good things must meet their ends, as always. Marceline had come down with an illness, one that was incurable. We didn't know what was wrong with her, but her symptoms had made her disgustingly uncomfortable. Doctors from many lands had came in her aid, but there was nothing they could do. We weren't certain if it was fatal or not, or if it was more around the lines of severe allergies, but all we could do is mourn.
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.
Late Adolescence (17-20, Birth of Leni & Katerina)
Oh boy... where to begin with these two?
My Mother had just given birth to to twin sisters, Katerina and Leni, who were both troublemakers to their respective limits….”
There was much more to these little segments, not all about his childhood:
“During My Travels...
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.
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…..”
Many more little notes he had written would litter his mind, but he had focused on getting to Oak Town for the time being. And just like that, Isaac had taken the train to to the town, greeted by salty waters’ air and the gentle waves of the people. Isaac couldn’t help but feel welcomed by the town, and headed straight for the site-of-investigation, which happened to be a heavily wooded area, of which the townspeople would retrieve their lumber from.
True, Isaac did sense magical irregularity within these woods, but had decided to cease his further investigation until his partner had arrived. ”I suppose I’ll wait here…” He spoke softly as he leaned against the shaft of a tree with crossed arms, at the scene of the magical irregularity.
WC: 7045
Notes: 17 out of 40 Posts complete, (33 Posts remaining)