Chapter 3: Welcome, Novitiate
Hilda feels a mix of dizziness and pain, her
senses still readjusting after the ritual finished. There's a small mirror
stuck on the wall by the entrance to the room of the Nexus Crystal, so she
stumbles over to it and lifts the bangs in her hair. A small circle with a
diamond at the center is now engraved in her forehead and she can only stare at
it with horror in her eyes.
"No...no, no, no... This can't..."
Hilda tries backing away but can't keep her bearings and slips, though Ryouma
catches her.
"Easy. Your body needs a few moments to
adjust to it," he says.
Ryouma quickly orients Hilda to sit on a padded
chair besides the mirror. As she does so, he places his hand on her head. Waves
of red energy begin wafting around it from his hand, like a wind current that
orbits Hilda.
"What're you doing?" she asks with a
pained voice.
"This is the first time in your entire
life that your body has interacted with the flow of Prana. I'm simply easing
the process, controlling how much is passing through until you've
stabilized."
Hilda can see that he's trying to explain
things but he might as well be speaking that crazy language of his. Still, she
is far too concerned with the Altr's decision to care.
"Ryouma, I—" she tries to speak up
but he interrupts her.
"I know this is a frightening situation,
especially for an untrained person, but it is what it is. Don't worry, though.
There are plenty of folks here to help you get used to it, as they've done for
countless others before."
No, Hilda thinks to herself, I know what fear is actually like and this isn’t
it.
Indeed, what she’s feeling is more like a mix
of shock, outrage and frustration. She figured she'd come here, the Altr would
see that she's the last person who deserves to be a Scion and she'd be back at
the bar by dinnertime. Hilda has half a mind to punch Ryouma for putting her in
this situation but knows that doing so would only backfire terribly.
So, she just sits there, mulling with her eyes
closed, as he continues with his magic. After about a minute, the pain and
dizziness subside.
"Are you feeling better now?" he
asks.
She is, though having her thoughts back together
only serves to boost the anguish she’s feeling. However, Hilda notices
something that draws her attention.
"Yeah but... what happened to your accent?
It's gone."
Now that she paid attention to it, she realizes
that, after the ritual ended, Ryouma started speaking English as though he'd done
it his entire life. Hilda entertains the idea that he'd been toying with her
but he doesn't seem like one for practical jokes.
Ryouma answers her question with a faint
chuckle. "That's usually the first thing they ask... Come with me. I'll explain
along the way."
After a quick knock, the guards outside open
the large doors to the room.
"Congratulations, Novitiate. Welcome to
the Corps," they say, having also started speaking English despite Hilda
being unable to understand them mere moments ago. Before she can question them,
Ryouma gestures for her to follow.
"Tell me, Hilda, do you know what 'Prana'
is?" he asks.
"Your legend says it's the life force of
everything in the world, right?"
"Very good," Ryouma smiles. "I
suppose those who live in the Northern Reaches wouldn't have forgotten the
story."
"Hm," Hilda mumbles. "Everyone
in Litnir hears it when they’re kids."
"Regardless, you're correct; it is the
essence of everything that lives across all planes of existence: humans,
animals, plants, the Altr, the Valnr, etc. What the Altr do when one becomes a
Scion is infuse that person with a speck of their divine Prana in order to open
what's called the 'seal of the mind'."
"And that does...?" Hilda asks right
back, annoyed that his answer only begets more questions.
"It is the first of four seals that
regulate how much you can draw from the flow of Prana that permeates the world.
Normally, living creatures are isolated from it when their bodies are formed.
Our – and the Valnr's – combat and magical arts all rely on manipulating Prana,
so the more you can wield of it, and the better your control, the stronger you
become as a Scion, see?"
"I think so," she nods as Ryouma
continues.
"The other three seals are called the
seals of the body, heart and soul. As you break through those, you'll be able
to tap into a greater portion of the flow of Prana. It is not easy, mind, so
there'll be a lot of work for you to do!"
"Don't suppose there's an easy way around
that, huh?" she grumbles.
"I'm afraid not. The flow of Prana is an
unforgiving force that can easily hurt you if wielded improperly," Ryouma
answers with a more serious expression. "Growing as a Scion doesn't mean
simply honing your strength and skill but also strengthening your mind and
spirit to have the focus and resilience needed to interact with it. Breaking
those seals yourself is a necessary step of that process."
"Fine... I guess that'd be too easy,"
Hilda sighs, disappointed. "What about you? How many seals you got open?"
A proud smile forms on Ryouma's face. "I'm
a General which, by definition, makes me an Ascended Scion - that means I've
unlocked the seals of mind, body and heart. As of right now, there are four
others at this level, including our commandant. You'll meet them eventually,
I'm sure."
Hilda can't help but wonder what kind of people
these other four Scions would be. Hopefully not like Ryouma. She takes a look
at the guy, still yacking nonstop, and just wishes she could ditch the guy head
back home. Still, there’s that commandant… that’s the person she needs to find
and demand to be discharged her from this insanity. Until then, she exhales deeply and keeps listening to Ryouma.
"We, the five Ascended Scions, are the
strongest and highest ranked in the corps right now. Below us are those who
have unlocked the seals of mind and body: the High Scions. Below them are the
Novitiate Scions, like you, who've only unlocked the seal of the mind.” He
punctuates this lecture by pointing at the single circle emblem at her
forehead.
"Incidentally, you asked what happened to
my accent. Prana is infused with the will of those that draw upon it, so, with
your seal of the mind open, you can now sense what I'm trying to communicate...
if I so desire, that is," Ryouma continues.
Hilda's brow furrows in confusion at this.
"Hold on. So, I'm not listening to you but to your thoughts?"
"Yes and no. Haven't you noticed how the
movements of my mouth aren't coinciding with the words you hear? I'm speaking
in my own language, Japanese, but because I want
to be understood by you, the Prana that flows through me interprets what I mean
to say and passes it to you in a language you’ll understand."
Ryouma gets closer to Hilda as he says this
and, indeed, his mouth is making different movements for the words she's
hearing. She also realizes that this is why she suddenly knew what that cyan
light – Orlen – said to her after he made her a Scion: it was only then that
she could interpret his will and understand his speech.
"Wow, that sounds... really confusing but,
also, really handy," Hilda exclaims.
"To keep it simple: any Prana wielder can
make himself understood by his peers if he wants to. It is a skill the Altr
gave us during the War of Twilight, when Grand Scion Eliina needed to organize
recruits from all over the world into an army."
Hilda shrugs with a phony smile – anything to
get on with this and find the commandant. "I guess that makes sense, sure.”
Up ahead, the main hallway splits in two: one
path leads eastward while the other leads straight into a very large room. No
one's in right now but Hilda sees dozens of enormous wooden tables lined up,
all of them surrounded by comfortable chairs. Tall windows of stained glass,
decorated with equally tall red curtains, as well as several golden chandeliers
and candlesticks placed about the tables keep it all nicely lit.
"This is the dining hall for the entire
Corps. The resident cooks make food for all sorts of tastes, so I'm sure you will
be well served," Ryouma says while taking a deep breath to catch the
smells coming from the kitchen.
Hilda notices not only the ever familiar scent
of pork and beef but, also, the more uncommon smell of vegetables – not so easy
to come across in the Northern Reaches, with its perpetual winter. The smells
take her thoughts back to Gustaff's bar. The miners should be ending their
shift right about now, meaning Edda and the temp waitresses must have their
hands full. What she wouldn't give to be back there with them.
"Aah... There’s nothing like coming home
with your comrades after saving some village and sharing a nice glass of beer
and a plate of roasted pork... Just make sure you behave in there, hm?"
Hilda sees Ryouma's nostalgic gaze shift into something of a thousand-yard
stare. "Make a mess and Greta, the head chef, will give you hell for
it."
He stands there for a few seconds – Hilda
ponders what could be crossing his mind – before clearing his throat and
continuing down the hallway. They soon reach a three-way split: the main path
carries on but four mighty sets of stairs are located besides it, one pair
leading up and the other down.
"This section of the castle is the
entrance to the living quarters; two dormitories take up the east and west
wings of the second floor. As a Scion of Orlen, you will be staying on the one
to the east," he says, pointing towards the right-most, upwards stairway.
"The two stairways leading downwards will take you to the underground
lakes that act as the baths – the one for the women is, also, on the
right."
This crossroads of sorts acts as something of a
gathering spot for the Scions when not in the dorms themselves. A couple of
tall windows give a fine look of the outside and several couches are set about
with small marbled tables and footrests. The furniture here is so fancy, it
wouldn’t look out of place in some nobleman’s home.
Guess the Corps at
least gets decent money for its work, she thinks.
A few dozen Scions are speaking to each other,
discussing battle techniques, strategies or just making small talk. They do
take the time to stand up and salute – raising a closed fist over to their
chest, keeping it parallel to the ground – when Ryouma passes by.
"Someone's respected around here,"
Hilda sniffs.
"Seniority comes with its own set of
responsibilities. The more experienced train those beneath them, as has been
since the beginning. High Scions all learn from us, the Ascended Scions, and
that does wonders towards spreading respect for the hierarchy," Ryouma
punctuates his answer with a sly wink.
"And where are the other Orlen Scions?
They must suck if you have to bring in people like me to pick up the
slack..." she asks with a sour expression.
Ryouma's lips pucker at her question and his
answer bears a clear undertone of frustration. "Hrm, not quite... Scions
of Orlen are a unique-ish case. Our patron god is, shall we say, picky when it
comes to giving me new recruits. In truth, you've already met the entirety of
the Orlen Brigade."
Hilda stands there for a second, looking at
Ryouma's dejected face. Soon, she bears an indignant expression as the other
shoe drops.
"Wait... you're the only member of
this 'brigade'?!"
Ryouma throws his hands in the air in
resignation. "Unfortunately, yes. Lord Orlen is the god of justice, war
and divine retribution, making him one of the mightiest Altr. This, I think,
results in him having rather high requirements for someone to be chosen as his
Scion."
Hilda stands indignant but fumes quietly. She’s
just about to yell at Ryouma for getting her in this mess of a “brigade” but
she doesn’t. The old man’s face turns into a deep frown which stymies her
outrage.
"Before you, the last time one was chosen
was about five years ago. Much as it pains me to say, he died a young High
Scion, leaving me as the sole member of our group," Ryouma continues, his
words heavy with sorrow. "The Valnr may only have a fraction of their old
might but they are still a force to be reckoned with. Most of the casualties
the Corps incurs are from young Scions, who've yet to fully mature."
Ryouma speaks like a man who's seen many old
comrades and apprentices lose their lives. Hilda feels a bit of sympathy for
him but his words only her frustration further and it overpowers whatever else
she may be feeling. "And then your god goes and chooses... a waitress. The
first recruit in five years, even. You can't think this is actually a good
idea, right?"
Ryouma sighs and places his hand on her
shoulder.
"I do, absolutely. I admit that your situation
is unusual but the Altr don’t recruit fools," he answers with a confident
smile. "Have some faith in yourself. I know there is a lot of strength and
potential behind this mantle of insecurity you wear."
You're wrong, Hilda thinks to herself, closing
her eyes for a brief moment. I'm nothing
like that – at all – and you'd think 'gods' would know that.
Continuing past the entrance to the
dormitories, the main hallway turns again and heads south. Right around the
corner is a rather plain small door and, beside it, a pair of wooden doors
bearing a carving of the Corps. emblem split between them.
"Behind these large doors is the Hall of
Generals, where we convene to discuss the status of the war, recent
developments, strategy and whatnot. Considering the importance of these
meetings and how sensitive the information is, non-Generals may only enter with
permission, understood?" Ryouma turns to Hilda who nods in confirmation.
"To the side is the office of our esteemed
Commandant, Eliza McCready. You'll be hard-pressed to find a Scion with more
experience or contempt for the Valnr than this one," he adds. Coming in
close to Hilda, he then lowers his voice to a whisper. "She keeps an open
door policy but is known for being quite the tough woman, so make sure you are
on your best behavior when dealing with her."
Perfect. This is exactly who Hilda was looking
for. She’s just about to walk in and set the record straight with this Eliza
when a ripple stretches in the red wall right next to them. Like it suddenly
turned to water, the wall twists in a spiral and materializes a portal of dark
energy right upon its surface.
"I can still hear you, Ryouma," says
a woman's voice coming through the portal. It is the strictest-sounding voice
Hilda's heard in her life and she reflexively stops in her tracks and
straightens out her posture.
"Oh...! Excuse me, Lady Eliza," he
blusters, "I was just showing our newest member around the keep!"
"So I see. Get her training started right
away. She needs to be combat-ready ASAP," Eliza's portal vanishes like it
was never there as soon as she finishes her command.
Hilda can't bring herself to speak up, her the
myriad of emotions churning within her held in check by how intimidated she
feels. Ryouma turns to the wide-eyed girl and shrugs before beckoning her
further down the hall.
"She... really doesn't sound like someone
you want to piss off," says Hilda, still feeling a bit daunted.
"Hah, you really don't," Ryouma
laughs. "But, you know, in Japanese, there's an expression that describes
her perfectly: 'Kimenbusshin'."
"Ki... what now?"
"That’s a Yojijukugo – an idiom of four
characters. This one essentially means 'to have a stern face but a tender
heart'."
Hilda raises an eyebrow in doubt – a whole lot
of doubt. "If you say so."
"But you heard her. There is still more of
the Keep to be shown but we can save that for later."
Ryouma brings her towards the storeroom of the
keep, further down the hallway. Its large metal doors are wide open for anyone
to come in and, within, hundreds of pieces of weapons, armor, food and assorted
materials lie organized in different sections.
"Hmm... let's see here," Ryouma
mouths to himself, taking Hilda along as he browses one of several long racks
of weapons.
The variation is quite impressive, ranging from
swords, axes and spears to bows, daggers, whips, maces and more. What strikes
Hilda as odd is that unlike the weapons she'd seen the Litnir guards carrying,
these blades have a reddish brown color to them – almost like they are rusted.
"Ah! This will work nicely: your standard
katana," Ryouma exclaims, showing Hilda a blade about seventy centimeters long,
resting inside a simple black scabbard of lacquered wood.
He seems excited but Hilda answers with a very
exasperated look. "A Japanese sword... Really? Don't you have anything
from this side of the world?"
"Beggars can't be choosers. If I'm going
to be teaching you not only to be a Scion but to actually fight with a weapon,
it’ll have to be with one that I, myself, am familiar with," Ryouma
retorts, stroking his goatee. "A Swedish girl with a Japanese weapon... As
anachronistic as this combination sounds, it may actually work. We’ll make a
warrior out of you yet, Hilda!"
As Ryouma starts leading Hilda to the training
grounds beyond the storage, she takes a deep breath. Making her, of all people,
a Scion... this whole thing feels like a tasteless joke and she's the
punchline.
These Altr must be
having a laugh right about now...Hilda fumes.
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