What We Learn

“You have magic.”

It was probably the most ridiculous thing that Gren had said since he had opted to throw in his lot and spend time with Vriko. And that was saying a lot, considering the old bastard had said a whole slew of stupid things over the course of the last year. She should have been able to dismiss it outright as ludicrous and told him off for being so senseless but his demeanor was stern and direct. It was the tone he used when he was dead serious, wanting to convey his message clearly and preventing her from disregarding or deflecting. And it hit hard; harder than she expected.

It had almost been a year since Gren had appeared in the house she was squatting in. Fall and winter had come and gone and spring was in full bloom, already on its way out and ready to give way to summer. Whether his overabundance of charm was too much to handle or Vriko was just too tired to fight him, she had begrudgingly agreed to let him hang around, if that’s what he wanted. He’d assured he wouldn’t give up her position to Mythal or Serilda and just wanted to get to know the sibling of his adopted son. A ridiculous notion but he seemed steadfast in his goal and frankly, she saw the opportunity for profit in it. The former Knight had knowledge about a lot of things involving Mythal and Faera and Vriko saw an opening to better bolster her abilities for the future.

Gren came and went as he pleased, citing different ventures, but there was a lot of the time he invited her along. She dismissed him almost every time, telling him to go about his business and leave her to her own. It was almost two months in, when the former Knight was heading to Ca-Elum to take care of some business, that she finally acquiesced and agreed to accompany him. She’d never been to Ca-Elum and her natural curiosity had overwritten her desire to be as intolerable as possible. It had been a surprisingly pleasant trip, all things considered. The land itself was beautiful, even if its people talked funny and looked weird. But it had been the first time she’d gone to a land without some ulterior motive, without a mission to kill or maim or slaughter. Hell, the ‘mission’ Gren had gone on was to pick up presents for some of his friends. Other than that, they had no responsibilities and the former Knight was more than happy to walk around aimlessly so that she could take in the sights.

Ever since then, she had gone with him on most of his journeys outside of Fiore, at least the ones that didn’t involve seeing family or friends. And in their travels together, she found herself, annoyingly, opening up to him more as he did with her. He told her stories of his time as a Rune Knight, of all the people and places he’d seen over his decades alive. And she, in turn, told him about her upbringing, unraveling hardened walls around her heart that she’d thought were petrified for good. It annoyed her and she told herself each time after that she would find a way to stop it but then they would be sitting by a fire, staring into the flames as they processed their recently eaten meal and words would just come stumbling out.

As much as she hated to admit it, Vriko began to understand one thing about herself. She had been a weapon, as Gren had rightfully called her, and because of that classification, she hadn’t been treated as a human. Archimedes and Jihl had simply used her as a means of enacting their own goals and never took into consideration how she felt. They never talked to her like a human being, asked about her feelings or even how she was at all. Serethar had filled that void to a point but even he kept her at arm’s length, at least until he rescued her. She even came to accept that the angel had truly been her one and only friend. That’d been a night; she’d had to process that and the fact that he had been killed.

Gren was… frustratingly friendly and caring. The only flaw she saw in him was the fact that he seemed to be juggling two different women at the same time. He called them both his girlfriend, these tramps called Mercury and Themesycia, and stated that they were very well aware of one another and accepting of what kind of weird relationship they were in. The idea of anyone being sexually attracted to Gren was… weird. Truthfully, Vriko wasn’t sure she’d found anyone truly attractive. Gren had explained that was fine and there were people out there that just weren’t sexually active or interested in other people. He talked to her like a father would a child, though perhaps a little more open than a real father would be. She’d fought against it for months before finally keeping her mouth shut on the matter. If he wanted to act like a dad, then whatever. It was his choice, not her’s.

The only ritual they had that Vriko truly enjoyed was sparring. The former Knight noticed that she liked to train with her weapons and offered to be a partner during said sessions, to help keep her sharp. While she had been dismissive of his abilities, claiming that she was far more than he could handle, she found herself on the hard side of an asskicking. Despite his age, Gren was more than a force, his fighting prowess only outmatched by his magical abilities. With yet another useful fount discovered, Vriko had agreed to training with him after that, seeing the opportunity to make herself better at fighting seasoned Rune Knights and mages.

In the end, she was getting stronger, faster and better overall. By the time the cool spring day had come along, she was just about on par with Gren’s abilities. It had reached a point that the former Knight could no longer rely on his hands and magic simply to outmaneuver her. Steel crashed against metal as both of them came at one another, their weapons bouncing off and each of them sliding back. Vriko inhaled sharply through her nostrils as she righted her katana; the Flame God Slayer sword currently wrapped in her hands. Gren, on the other hand, was using an elegant one handed sword that he had nicknamed Harbinger. Twirling it in his hand, he grinned as he rushed in and exchanged a fair number of clashes with the woman.

She defended against his attacks seamlessly, swinging her blade back and forth with ease. His attacks were quick but over their time training, she’d come to see them slow down. At first she had wondered if she was wearing the old bastard down but eventually she began to understand that her instincts and senses were catching up. One his last strike, she pressed her hand against the spine of her katana and sent him sliding back. Righting her stance, her entire image flickered in and out of existence, different apparitions appearing in front of her former position resembling her. It was as if she was teleporting really quickly between three different positions.

Gren’s eyes widened a bit, honestly surprised at the sight. And then he felt the point of her katana poke him, ever so gently, on his back. Twisting his head to look over his shoulder, he found her standing behind him, sword pressed against his torso and smirking as she looked up at him. “Looks like I win,” she remarked, holding the blade in place for a moment longer before she pulled it away, turning it and placing it back in the box attached to her hip. “You’re losing speed, old man.”

Gren looked at her before he broke into a chuckle. “Is that right?” he asked, as his laugh diminished, resting the spine of his sword against his shoulder. “Here I was thinkin’ you were just finally learnin’ to tap into your potential.”

“If you mean making me a more efficient killer, I would say so. I think I’d even give Mythal a run for his money now,” she remarked as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Well maybe. After you’ve mastered your magic, it’s possible.”

She froze mid-movement, her brow furrowing. “What?”

Gren leveled his gaze with her. “You have magic, Vriko. You always have.”

She stared at him for a long moment before anger overtook her features. “Don’t fuck with me, bastard. You know that I don’t like jokes and I especially don’t like being toyed with--”

Gren held up his free hand, silently asking her to stop. “I never told ya before because I knew you’d just clam up ‘bout it. I know what ya parents said, what Faera claims. Fact of the matter is they were wrong and it don’t take a genius to sense it. I knew it from the first moment you got angry at me, back at the cabin. But it ain’t like normal magic from what I can tell.” He sighed softly. “I kept my mouth shut because I didn’t want ta get you all excited over nothin’.”

She fixed a glare upon him. “Explain.”

The former Knight shrugged. “I can’t or well, I can but it’s… complicated. You’ve been taught to believe magic is all about shooting fire and stuff from your hands or whatever. But magic is limitless, both in context and conception. Matter’a’fact, your ability to use those weapons effectively proves you have magic. Look at how you’ve improved; your strength and speed is beyond where you were only months ago when we started. Your body adapts and grows from each session beyond that of a normal person. Just now, you moved so fast that I could barely keep up. At the very least, you’ve becoming like the warriors from Midi; you invoke ethernano to bolster your own strength and speed to wield your weapons rather than firin’ fancy lasers and whatnot.”

“Then why did Archimedes and Jihl tell me I was magicless? Why didn’t Serethar tell me the truth, even after we escaped?”

“I can’t explain to why your angel friend didn’t tell ya. Maybe he couldn’t sense it or somethin’, I don’t honestly know. But as to Jihl and Archimedes… I think they pro’lly knew. But if they convinced ya that you were powerless and needed to rely on them, it would make it easier to control ya. You told me that if you had killed Mythal and managed to become Faera’s vessel, the one thing you wanted was Jihl and Archimedes dead, yeah?” She gave him a soft nod after a moment. “They pro’lly knew what kind of weapon they were makin’ and did what they could to manage yer self confidence. If ya knew you had magic… wouldn’t ya have tried to master it to use it against them?”

Vriko didn’t answer him… which was, ironically, the affirmation he expected. “They had to keep you in line so you would still serve their means.”

“That…” Vriko started then stopped, her eyes snapping slightly away as she revisited the words he had spoken. “... actually makes sense.” Jihl and Archimedes had been anything but loving to her and constantly reminded him, each and every day, that she had been born broken. They might have recognized that if she gained confidence in herself and her magic began to manifest, she would become uncontrollable. It sounded exactly like what her parents would do. She frowned and shook her head. “And so what, I’ve been awakening it during our sparring sessions?”

Gren shrugged again. “Why do you think I suggested it from the beginnin’? I saw your potential and knew I could help ya. You’ve been beaten down all your life -- you deserved someone rootin’ for ya for once.”

Vriko felt something inside her chest. A pang of… something. She wasn’t sure what it was. But she knew it was strange and foreign and she didn’t like it. She rolled her eyes at him. “Now how do you know I won’t take what you’ve taught me and use it against Mythal?”

Gren chuckled. “Yer tellin’ me after all these months away, you ain’t enjoyin’ bein’ out of that loop? Ya want to go marchin’ back into that mix with Mythal and Faera and all that?”

She was silent. He was right, of course. She had asked for freedom and separation and she had been given it. In fact, the more that she had learned from Gren, the less anger she felt towards Mythal and his ilk. She didn’t like them by any stretch but she began to understand who had truly been manipulating her. Hell, even Mythal had been manipulated -- maybe that’s why she truly hated him. He’d gone through pain and torment and come out the other side with people that cared about him. Vriko had always been on her own. She shoved the thought away; it was ridiculous to think like that. After a period of silence that felt like ages, she snorted. “So what now? You plan on continuing to train me?”

Gren grinned. “If you’ll have it.”

“For now. But I’m already getting faster than you. I’ll need someone stronger to train against eventually,” she stated dismissively. “Then I’ll have no need for you.”

The former Knight laughed. “Fair enough. But let’s worry about that later, I’m starvin’. What say we head back to the house and--”

The ground rumbled all of a sudden and there was an unearthly screech that ripped through the air. Both Vriko and Gren winced and moved to cover their ears. After several ear-shattering seconds, it disappeared. But what followed was the screams and cries of fear and agony from people nearby.

There was only one place nearby where it could be coming from. “The village,” Gren said, his calm and playful demeanor gone and replaced with concern. Out of instinct he took off, rushing through the brush in the direction of the town. And perhaps more surprisingly was the fact that Vriko found herself racing after him, hot on his heels.

For a second, she wasn’t sure if he’d started running first… or if she had.

The village wasn’t far from where they were training so it took the pair not but a minute to return to the outskirts of it. As they approached, Gren steered himself and by extension Vriko, to the nearest building, pressing against the wooden structure as flat as they could get. It was a surprising move to the woman, who had expected to be rushing in at full speed. But Gren gave her a look and a slight shake of his head. It was a wordless action, meant to convey that he wanted to see what they were dealing with before they acted. The former Rune Knight gently opened the back door of the building, peered his head inside to see if there was anyone within and then gestured for her to follow him. The two of them swiftly moved across the ground floor of the building to the front, where a large window sat next to a closed door. It gave them the perfect view of the villagers being rounded up in the center of the single street in the village.

The perpetrators wore dark, grisly cloaks that were torn and shredded all over. But all it took was a second glance at their hands to see that these things were not people but hooded beings made of magic. They brandished weapons of equally intimidating power, the glowing purple energy billowing out from under the sleeves and off of the weapons. A few of the cloaked figures shifted to reveal just a glowing purple light underneath the hood, with no face or features at all. Summoned magical creations. Vriko felt Gren nudge her shoulder and when she turned to look at him, he nodded towards the air above. Long black stones, etched with runes, were hovering in the air above the village, the symbols glowing brightly. It was dim but there was a definite stream of magic flowing out from the stones into the beings below.

In the center of the magical creatures, standing before the crowd of people, was a woman, or at least it looked to be. Her back was to Gren and Vriko, her hair as white as snow and long, flowing down well past her feet and floating just above the ground. Her top looked to be a rag, barely covering her bare flesh beneath. Similar rags were tied around her waist and calves, though several straps with buckles kept those pieces of clothing in place. A scythe hung over her shoulder, the shaft as black as night but the blade glowing a crimson red. She continued to watch as the last of the villagers were corralled together, silent as her minions did her dirty work.

Finally, when the last of them had been gathered, the woman shifted slightly, enough to pull the scythe from her shoulder. One of the magical constructs grabbed a man and pulled him forward, bringing him closer to the woman. Holding him tight by the arms, the villager was bent forward, just as the woman turned her scythe just enough to point it at the man from arm’s length. In a flash it rushed forward and the onlookers screamed, turning away before one of their own was sliced to ribbons. But the payoff never came; the scythe came to rest under the man’s chin without carving skin, pressing up against his flesh ever so gently.

“I am told a man resides here. A friend to you and your people. And yet I do not count him among you,” the woman said, her voice loud but seemingly gentle. At the slight fluctuation of the man’s features, she continued. “Do not be surprised. A lot can be wrought from a man’s lips at the charm of an interested woman. A traveling son who sought to impress his local tavern with stories of the strong, former Rune Knight that lived part time among your people. The one who fought against the darkness and won. Pray, tell me where I might find this man so as I may reward him for his past deeds.”

Vriko tensed up all of a sudden. Gren noticed it, looking at her briefly before turning his gaze back to the woman. “Ya know her.”

She swallowed hard before she whispered back to him. “I couldn’t quite tell at first; last time I saw her was years ago and she was wearing far less clothing. It’s Astri -- one of the Immortal Thirteen.”

The Immortal Thirteen were men and women that had taken on vast amounts of Faera’s power. They acted as vessels of her will and goals; generals of her army that could move about the world of light without interruption or breaking taboo. They had all once been members of the Sons of Faera, or so it was believed.

Gren snorted softly. “The Immortal Thirteen, huh? Pretty sure I ran into one of ‘em months ago when Mythal was attacked.”

“If she’s here, they’ve got our track. We’ve gotta go before they find us.”

As she started to move away, Gren’s hand wrapped around her wrist. “Yer just gonna leave these people to die?”

“There’s nothing we can do for them,” Vriko hissed back. “They’re as good as dead already. Astri uses Faera’s magic to summon constructs from those magic stones. She could drop an army on our head before we could even act. The only chance we have of escaping with our lives is to get out before she finds us.”

Gren studied her for a long moment, even as silence filled the road outside. Astri had, seemingly, put out her inquiry and was waiting for the man before her scythe to answer. The former Rune Knight finally released Vriko’s arm. “Alright,” he agreed.

Vriko nodded and started to move once more. But it didn’t take her more than a few steps to realize that Gren wasn’t following her. “What are you doing?” she whispered at him.

“Go. I’ll buy ya time. They’re only here for me. That’ll give ya time to escape,” he told her.

“Are you an idiot?! She will kill you and those people!”

“Maybe. But I ain’t gonna let her do it without a fight. I gotta try to save them. But it ain’t your fight; you wanted out and I promised you that I wouldn’t force you to get dragged back into it. So you get out. Live your life fully and believe in yourself, like I do.” Gren steadied his gaze on her, giving Vriko a genuine and meaningful smile. “Besides, I’ve been meanin’ to try out one of Mercury’s gifts for me.”

Vriko didn’t have words. Even as Gren ushered her out the door and moved around the building away from her, heading towards the home she and him had shared for months now, all she could do was watch in stunned silence. Finally she came to her senses and headed back towards the woods, cursing him silently for being a stupid hero. Meanwhile, in the square, Astri’s silence finally broke. “No words then?”

The man underneath her scythe was terrified, that much was obvious. But there was stubborn pride written all over him, refusing to give into the woman’s demands for information. Though he had no desire to die, it seemed he was unwilling to spare himself for the sake of betraying Gren. Astri nodded gently. “I commend your loyalty.”

But before she could make a move with the scythe, a booming voice drew her attention away. “I heard you were lookin’ for me.” Gren emerged from his home, a warhammer draped over his shoulder as he walked down the steps slowly, almost dramatically. “Awful lot of trouble just to find me. I’m flattered but I should tell ya that I’m taken already. Twiceover, even. I ain’t lookin’ to get back in bed with Faera and her ilk.”

“Gren Ragnos,” Astri replied pleasantly, moving the scythe from beneath the man’s jaw and turning to face him. Her golden eyes lit up in glee. “Thrand told me that you were quite the force to be reckoned with. I’m excited -- defeating you and bringing you back to Kingdom Darkness will greatly please the Dark Mistress.”

“I’m sure that’d make her all sorts of happy. But I ain’t goin’ without a fight,” Gren remarked as he came to stop across from her. He twisted a portion of the staff on his hammer and the head opened up, revealing a pulsing blue core. Fragmented electricity jolted out across the metal as another handle lifted off the staff of the hammer, caught underneath Gren’s fingers.

Astri chuckled before gently waving her hand towards the former Rune Knight. At once her magical constructs rushed towards Gren, attacking from all sides. The veteran Knight grinned as he spun the hammer about, slamming it into foe after foe and disintegrating them into particles. As each enemy fell, though, another would materialize underneath the floating rock and rush back in to join the fray. Astri hung back, watching in amusement as her pawns were defeated over and over again at the mighty strength of the hammer-wielder.

Gren tactically kept moving the battle away from the center of town, forcing the constructs and Astri to follow him. After several minutes, there was enough distance between where Astri was and where the villagers had gathered that they would be able to move without her noticing. After all, Gren was her target, not the innocents. And the elders of the village recognized this; they quickly and quietly rounded up the rest of their peers and began escaping to the other side of the village. Once they were out of the way, Gren felt more comfortable in being able to fight without holding back.

Unfortunately, it seemed Astri felt the same way. Her summons came quicker and in greater numbers. Before long, Gren was surrounded on all sides, a veritable squadron of constructs on every side of him. He looked around slowly, the hammer still gripped tight within both of his hands.

“You’ve fought well, Gren Ragnos. But your power is nothing compared to my numbers,” Astri replied calmly.

The former Knight snorted. He slightly adjusted his angle and then twisted the rotating portion of the staff once more. The warhammer opened further, electricity gathering above its head as it seemingly took on the form of a cannon. When he finally pulled the trigger, a beam of lightning shot out from the gathering point, zipping through the air and ripping through one of the statues. The black rock exploded into fragments and several of Astri’s summons seized up and crumbled into dark ashes.

She gasped and looked over as the pieces fell to the ground. “What was that you were sayin’? It sounded like a bunch of crock to me,” Gren replied as he forced the trigger back in place, dispensing the spent cartridges on the ground.

Astri looked furious, whirling her head back at him. Her furious glare surely meant danger for Gren but before she could act, a wave of lightning rushed through the air from behind, destroying another statue. More of her constructs dissipated and she spun around to see where the additional bolt had come from. Standing behind her was Vriko, the Lighting God Slayer katana still crackling with magic in her hand.

“It’s been a long time, Astri,” she replied coolly. “I remember when I first saw all of you Immortal Thirteen. How terrified I was. I couldn’t sense magical power but you all looked so intimidating, so lethal. In a way, I always wanted to aspire to that. But it wasn’t even five minutes ago that I was ready to turn tail and run. That same childish terror overcame me again. I nearly fell victim to it.” Vriko snorted. “But screw that. I’m done running. I’m done hiding. You, my mother, the rest of the Immortal Thirteen… I’m done letting you scare me. Now it’s time for me to scare you!”

Astri screeched as she swung her scythe upward. All at once her summons melted into flowing rivers of darkness, swirling up and gathering above her weapon. The force of the suction from her spell was so intense that both Vriko and Gren had to slam their weapons into the ground and hold on for dear life. Astri formed a massive globe of dark magic, the like of which would vaporize the village and most likely most of the nearby mountain area. Twisting the scythe ninety degrees, she swung it towards Vriko, unleashing the ball towards her.

She was paralyzed at the sight of it. She’d spoken so confidently about standing up to her fear, about overcoming it, but here she was, frozen in place before the might of one of the Immortal Thirteen. It wasn’t until the massive shadow of Gren moved into her view that she was able to snap back to reality, looking up as he stood before her, ready to put himself in harm’s way to try and protect her. A stupid, selfless act that she couldn’t understand, didn’t understand. This man was putting his life on the line for her? He had a family waiting to see him, loved ones that he could go home to. She was nothing to him, nobody to anyone. Why? Why would he so willingly exchange his life for hers?

She couldn’t answer and she couldn’t accept it. And through her choice to reject his selfless act, power was born. Billowing, crimson flames erupted from her eyes as she screamed, grabbing Gren by his shirt and pulling him past her, essentially throwing him behind her. And as the ball came rushing in, she turned to face it, eyes open and unafraid once more. Magical power unlike the world had seen exploded off of Vriko and into the heart of black magic ball. It caused the globe to warp and explode, swallowing the entire area in darkness for a brief moment before everything was turned to shimmering light and then movement. Hundreds upon hundreds of butterflies took flight, the darkness magic having transformed into living creatures. The multicolored insects soared into the air as the village returned to view, unscathed and unharmed from the attack.

Vriko was standing in the same place she had been, eyes now wide in shock and confusion. The flames still billowed out from her eyes and with a shaky hand, she reached out and touched them, feeling the warmth pass over her fingers without pain. As she pulled her hand back, she turned to face Gren, who looked just as confused and shocked as she was.

But perhaps the strangest moment, which was saying a lot considering everything that had happened in mere seconds, came but a breath later. “W-Where am I?” an oddly familiar but confused voice asked. Both Gren and Vriko turned to look at the source and found a woman pushing herself up into a sitting position. A woman with hair as black as coal and eyes as blue as the ocean’s depths. They might have asked who she was, were it not for the outfit she was wearing and the scythe lying only feet away from her. It was Astri… but it wasn’t her, at the same time.

And somewhere, hundreds of miles away, a man slouched against a wall in an alleyway, lifted his head slightly. From under the brim of his hat, gleeful, amused eyes seemed to spark to life, even as dark magic overwhelmed his sclera. “Well, well…” the former Archimedes mused smoothly .“It looks like the Blessing has finally emerged.”