Mythshaper

Returning to the quarters, I busied myself with miscellaneous tasks, from training my shaping, writing my journal, to instructing Diana on rune engraving. I agreed with Master Kaius to talk about everything with my parents, even the elder came to our abode to make sure of that, but I was not yet prepared for it.

My parents did not ask anything about it, waiting for me to come to them of my own accord, though they did not leave me to myself either.

Once it was noon, I sat down with the book Grand Uncle Varyn had gifted me. It was a biography of my grandfather, Arcis Silverheart, denoting his early life, aspirations, heroic exploits, and his sacrifice. For such a rich life, it was more of a philosophical epic than the heroic tales I was used to with books like these.

The volume was thick. I had read it all within a couple of days, though it was not a book to be digested in a short time. Uncle Varyn had written it all himself, spending no insignificant amount of time, and neither was the life of the man within the pages. It was the kind of book one pondered on.

Today, I was rereading a section that depicted the inner turmoil of a young Arcis. Born into a family of noble knights, Arcis' morality was as high as his talent. So when he came across a few miscreants from a noble family abusing their power over their subjects, he did not think twice to strike them, sometimes even crippling the worst offenders.

However, it was only years later that he found out his righteous rage had only fuelled the nobles to abuse the victims further. There was one girl named Kaila, a mere fisherman's daughter. She was young and pretty, and had easily caught the fancy of one such miscreant, who went to great lengths to pressure their little family until Kaila had no other choice but to become the noble's bedwarmer.

Young Arcis saved her from that fate and, leaving some compensation for the family's hardship, he called the matter closed. It was only after a few months that he found out what had befallen her was far worse than the fate he thought he had saved her from.

Being ostracised and pressured from all sides, the fisherman had chosen to hang herself, and as for the girl, she was sold into prostitution.

Possessed by guilt, Arcis went to great lengths to make amends, of what little right he could do to the girl. Not only Kaila, he found more whom he had harmed with his helping hand.

Despite the hands that dealt the most harm not being his, the blame lay with him. Grandfather had seen it in the eyes of the victims and their families. In social circles, people lauded his character, but he knew his noble deeds were nothing more than a child's misguided attempts at playing a hero.

From then on, he was much more careful about when to act, and how to act. In the latter part of the book, he made sure to teach his eldest daughter, my Mum, the lesson so that she did not have to face the same guilt and turmoil.

It left so much to ruminate on. Despite all good intentions, some ill might fall whether one intended it or not.

My involvement in the alchemy shop began from a well intentioned thought. Maybe it was the simple life I lived throughout Karmel that made me easy to trust people, coupled with my childish impatience and recklessness, which made me overlook something like the hallucinating smoke from the matriarchal woman's pipe. Ultimately, the harm had fallen upon common bystanders.

In the book, Grandfather had mentioned unintentional ill a number of times, that the more powerful one becomes, our flaws would grow, magnified in proportion. Just as gifting great wealth to the powerless would attract bandits to their home, when two elephants fight, it was only the ants who suffered.

Putting the book away, I decided to make some headway into the assignment Father had given me, only to remember I had failed to acquire the alchemical materials required to refine the alloys. Well, there were still plenty of common metals available in the inventory, so I was not too worried. Neither did I think I had an answer to what Father's task truly meant.

My ideal sword.

In the battle, I had gained the way of Aura Resonance of Penetration. I had not tested its effectiveness, but if it was anything to go by the result of the battle, I sighed.

"Still thinking of it?" Master Kaius' voice echoed into the improvised smithy.

"I'm much calmer now," I said, almost calm enough to talk my heart out to my parents, though there was still one thing bugging my mind. "Master Kaius, you mentioned this cult abducts children, then…"

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The elder shifted to come before me, his arm leaning on the large table. "You are worried if the ones in the alchemy shop were once the children?"

"Yes."

"You're lucky to have not faced them, because they wouldn't like those halfarsed fighters. A single moment of lapse and they will make you regret it."

I frowned.

"That is to say, none of them were the abducted, coerced to do their evil bidding."

That offloaded a substantial weight from my chest. I breathed in deeply and got back to work. Blacksmithing was still not my strong suit, but anything I made with refined and reinforced materials would be of greater quality than anything any common blacksmith could forge. Still, swords in particular were one of the tougher weapons to make.

As I was pitting hammer on hot alloy, I remembered that Father had actually learned swordsmanship under Master Kaius. I quickly posed the question of an ideal sword to him without thinking.

"Hmm, you are thinking too hard, lad," the elder chuckled. "Jinn is too honest a man to trouble you with something philosophical."

I cocked my head. "Then what did he mean by forging my ideal sword?"

"Just as it sounds, the sword you want to wield." He decided to elaborate. "The path of Essence and the path of Aura differ from one another, but both can be wielded to do the same thing."

I agreed readily, remembering the elements Father could wield with Aura.

"Your father comes from a culture that looks down on essence swords. They practise aura, using it to nourish their blade into their ideal form. One of the reasons why they have so many Sword Masters, and also why the practise was mostly lost in the empire. Anyhow, Jinn is not so bullheaded as to not recognise the uses of essence swords. To him, as long as it can cut demons, it is good enough."

Father is an aura master. His aura could cut through multitudes better than something like Windblade could. And he also had a good reason to not use a magic blade. I guessed Ouroborus could be called a magic sword, though it was more demonic in nature.

"What your father wants is for you to choose one of the paths."

I hummed, looking at the flakes of flame flying from each of my strikes, the sound almost a mere echo in my mind. Essence or Aura. Both sides had their advantages and disadvantages. For now, my essence capabilities still outweighed my aura, which would also make it easier to wield a magic blade. Whereas Aura had a higher learning curve, its force could not be mistaken.

In the battle, it took applying my aura to break through the wards in a short time. Essence alone would have taken significantly longer to break through defences that were specifically created to protect against essence based attacks. I was sure I would have had a significantly worse time if any of the people had possessed skill with Aura Oscillation. Of course, the strength of raw aura played a part, but a masterful display of oscillation could not only disperse the strongest of spells, but also concentrated aura.

I had already chosen the path of Sword Forging, with some significant improvement along the way. My aura would be honed akin to a razor edge. It would be too foolish to give up the path. Yes, it was significantly difficult to get there, and even the practise meant being pushed through a thousand steps in hell, but it was so satisfyingly exhilarating to wield aura.

Essence, too, though that had grown overwhelmingly easier once I advanced to Noble Class.

"Both," I said suddenly. "Why can't I choose both paths?"

As much as I was a swordsman, I was an artisan as well, and I liked making fine magic swords.

"Nobody said you can't." Master Kaius smiled. "And I pray that you live a long life to reach the pinnacle of both."

With that, I spent all evening crafting two swords, one with a high number of runes and the other without any. On top of having no runes, I made sure not to wield a single speck of essence during its creation. The rest were half baked, especially for the Aura Sword. The magic sword would still yield dozens of gold leafs easily, even though it was merely a prototype, whereas for the aura sword, I just had to forge more.

Father did not seem the least bit peeved by the two swords I forged, though he did not forget to warn me about spreading myself too thin.

That was not my worry. Once I advanced to Prestigious Class, which I reckoned would not be that far, my lifespan would increase by a few more decades. Then, if I managed to reach Fabled Class, I would have all the time to master all my paths, be it aura, essence, runes, or swordsmanship.

That night, I did not spend any more time practising anything, but spent it all chatting with my parents and Master Kaius, until finally, I decided to open up about what went down at the alchemy shop.

I narrated it all in the most clear cut, stoic way possible, like I was a bystander overseeing the battle, calling out where my fault lay and where I could have done better, unprompted. My parents seemed a bit taken aback by my response.

"I know you could have gone through it a hundred different ways, Pumpkin, but how do you feel?"

I tilted my head, gazing between my parents before peeking at the older man, who nodded reassuringly. "I feel fine?" I said. "I mean, I detested the feeling, seeing their eyes turning lifeless, them cursing at me as if it was my fault alone." I exhaled softly. "If I had to go about it again, I'll try my best to protect the bystanders better, and capture them alive if I could."

Mum exchanged a look with Father, then with Master Kaius.

Life was precious. Who knew it better than I, having died once. Even though the memory of it all remained as a mere echo, time and time again it still stung, the terrible, terrible feeling of everything I lost.

However, if some people took it for granted and wreaked havoc just because they could, disregarding its preciousness, then I would stand against them. So long as my conscience remained on the right path, so long as I was not hurting innocents, I would wield my blade with my utmost conviction.

***

Darkness. It came through the creeping dark, like pieces of marionettes, severed heads and limbs, blood gushing from their orifices as they screamed, shooting towards me.

Then, I awoke in my bed, my back drenched in cold sweat.

Thankfully, Mum did not let me sleep alone that night.

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