What's To Come (2)

  The words weren’t coming out—they couldn’t come out because I didn’t know what to say. All I could do was surrender myself to the temporary feeling of shock, gazing upwards as if I had lost all sense of time, space—everything.

  After being pulled across worlds, dimensions and maybe even timelines, the thought of crossing paths with her again never really surfaced in my mind. I rebuffed the notion every time it threatened to emerge because I thought I’d already accepted that our last meeting was indeed the end.

  As someone that was given the task of being the literal emissary of death itself, I thought I’d made the right choice, it seemed logical at the time. Being able to freely detach myself from any fleeting personal connections that were fated to end one way or the other was necessary for me to properly function as the reaper, that was why I wasn’t originally allowed the luxury of having or expressing any emotions.

  Akasha deemed such things as unnecessary, and it was completely right.

  Overall, my duty was fairly simple and straightforward. I was meant to carry out the will of the source without question, and that was exactly what I had done before coming here. However, it seems my days as a perfectly logical tool were at an end. Even if I wanted to, I wasn’t sure I could operate with the same level of brutal rationality as before—not when both my body and mind were being drawn deeper and deeper into the realm of mortality with each passing day.

  Bit by bit, I was gradually getting used to this new way of life.

  The girl casually hopped down from the thick canopy, landing with a sense of poised grace and a delicate smile. Her appearance, of course, was vastly different from what I was used to. Seeing her in a white, frilly-edged dress didn’t exactly surprise me, but instead of the straight blonde hair that once cascaded down her back, she now had soft silver strands that barely grazed her shoulders. The only thing that hadn’t changed were those sapphire irises, which somehow resisted the transformation.

  However, the same couldn’t be said for the rest of her physiology—her ears now jutted out slightly instead of forming a natural, rounded lobe. There was only one conclusion to be drawn from that fact—she was an elf.

  “I haven’t seen you around here before. What’s your name?” she asked, stepping closer quizzically.

  My words threatened to clam up again, but I banished my own hesitance through sheer force of will. “L-Liam Rocco. I just came here a little while ago.”

  “Hmm, is that so— hey wait, you have the signum?! No way! I thought only adults could awaken that. Lady Fiona, who is he?” the girl exclaimed, her eyes widening with a mix of awe and suspicion.

  Fiona sighed a little, sounding as if she’d more or less expected this kind of reaction.

  “Irina you’re being rude. You should know full well that you ought to introduce yourself first before requesting someone’s name, princess.” Having placed emphasis on that last word, Fiona smirked at us both triumphantly.

  She did it on purpose to rouse my awareness.

  “Princess?” I repeated the word.

  “Ah, right! I’m sorry I got distracted.” scooting back a few steps, Irina effortlessly lowered herself into a curtsy, a motion so smooth it was clear it had been rehearsed countless times. Her gaze slowly rose to match my own, and upon establishing eye contact, the child before me—someone I once knew — reintroduced herself as a completely new persona.

  “A pleasure to meet you, Liam Rocco. My name is Irina Mercury, I am the first-born child to both Theron and Laela Mercury, the King and Queen of this nation.” Irina proudly proclaimed, finishing her introduction with a dip of her small head, a gesture I returned out of courtesy.

  “So, how was that?” she perked up, glancing expectantly at the deity beside me.

  “It was excellent, that’s why you should lead with that next time so as to not give off the wrong impression. Otherwise, your parents might just increase your mandatory etiquette lessons by another six hours.”

  Fiona’s words made her visibly shiver, though she managed to quickly shrug off the ominous implications of the deity’s words and mend the deepening frown on her face through pure optimism.

  “R-right, I'll do that next time, I promise.”

  “So you say.”

  “I-I’m being serious this time!” she lamented weakly, her tone barely above a whisper.

  This clearly wasn’t the first time they were having this kind of exchange given how easily Fiona was able to counter her rebuttals and extract more amusement from the girls' escalating reactions as if it was some kind of reward.

  “Hm? Liam are you okay? You look kind of lost.”

  Their brief exchange had of course ended in the deity’s victory—much to the fuming child’s displeasure. At some point, watching them swap remarks back-to-back had left me in a daze, so I found myself obsessively observing their interaction.

  “Ah, I’m fine. I was just surprised because this is my first time meeting an actual princess, I didn’t know Sylvan had any.” I replied, eyes still gazing carelessly.

  “Of course we do.” Fiona said, pointing at the small elf. “Irina’s still young but she’s sure to grow into the mold given time, that's all she really needs.”

  Her words resonated with the young elf rather quickly, her eyes lit up the moment Fiona began speaking highly of her, dispelling the lingering bitterness of being bested once again and replacing it with a flush of rosy cheeks and an innocent blush. “I-I’ll do my best to meet your expectations.” Irina declared, fawning over the thought of her future self.

  It was a little ironic seeing the situation she found herself in even after crossing worlds, since even by regular standards, being a princess was a far cry from what one could consider as having a ‘normal life’. Still, I suppose something like this wasn’t that far off the mark considering what her life was like before.

  It wasn’t a bad draw—on the contrary, she’d actually gotten lucky.

  “Yes, that’s right Irina. You and Liam here have an extraordinary amount of potential, which is why he’s here to visit his grandfather.”

  “G-grandfather?” Irina repeated, settling her quaking eyes on me. “You mean, he’s related to master Erwin, as in —”

  “Yes child.” Fiona interrupted swiftly, allowing the child’s expression to thoroughly transition into shock. “Liam’s already a mage with the Signum and a blood relative that’s never been here before, so I’m taking him to meet his grandfather.”

  A pair of sapphire Irises reflexively locked onto me again. Not knowing how to process the pressure of her gaze, I gave a strained smile and an awkward wave. “Its nice to meet you too, princess Irina.”

  “You’re already a mage...even though you’re so young?” she asked, scanning me suspiciously.

  “Well yes, a lot of things happened before I came here and I awakened after getting into some trouble.”

  For a moment, her expression relaxed into a neutral state, appearing to build tension. Irina’s cheeks ripened again and her eyes started glistening like diamonds. “T-T-Thats amazing!” she exclaimed, dashing over to initiate a series of fervent handshakes. “It’s true, I can feel a little bit of mana inside your core. By the way Liam, how old are you?” her question wasn’t exaggerated but the glee in her childish tone demanded an imminent response.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “F-four years old, I’ll be turning five soon.” I replied, still withstanding her series of playful handshakes. The girl's expression brightened even further. “So you’re a year younger than me then. This is great, I thought I was the youngest mage in all of Heston but to think there was a mage even younger than me here.”

  Luelle had gotten smaller, and her appearance had changed considerably too, but it seems she retained quite a few quirks from her past life as a Celestial—her boundless enthusiasm being one of them.

  “Bear with it for now Liam. She’s been longing to find a young mage to practice with.” registering Fiona’s voice whilst locking eyes with Irina’s beaming expression only served to reinforce the deity’s comment about this child being ecstatic.

  “You’ll be staying in Heston for a while, right? For how long?” she pressed, her expression getting closer as if to demand answers.

  “I-”

  THUD

  The door behind me flew open and smacked against the thick tree bark, the sound of the sudden crash echoing through the forest.

  Upon turning my head, I saw a familiar figure standing in the doorway, eyes wide and glossy. Those same eyes were strained and her hair was a bit messy, but without a doubt she was the first person I met after coming here. Julia threw herself at me as nothing but a bundle of pent-up emotions and despite not having any time to prepare for it whatsoever, I had no choice but to relinquish myself to the eventual tears, sobs and sniffles.

  Her large body wrapped around mine openly, followed by two other familiar figures — Jytte and Myra who also found themselves indulging in the tender moment. Since everyone was crying no actual words were being said, it was all just sniffles and sobs, something I couldn’t blame them for doing.

  My latest act of selfishness was the root cause of all this melancholy. It couldn’t be called selfless because it was something I did solely to sate my own weakness — a ploy to prevent myself from experiencing that dark emotion again.

  The pile of bodies trapping me in a fearsome hug —both large and small —greatly reduced my visual perception but through a small opening in their embrace, I was able to catch a glimpse of Oliver watching the encounter unfold from the doorway.

  His expression —stuck somewhere between a grimace, a frown and absolute sorrow spoke many words in place of his gaping mouth. He probably didn’t know what to say right now, and I couldn’t blame him for that either. They had all been through a lot—from battling vengeful creatures condemned to perdition to struggling with my supposed demise. The fragile mental balance they were desperately fighting to maintain must have shattered the moment they confirmed I was safe.

  I caught glimpses of both Irina and Fiona passively observing our reunion a short distance away. One was smiling pleasantly, whilst the other watched in utter awe, barely managing to mumble the question “This is Liam’s family?” to herself.

  It took quite sometime for the weeping Ember fangs to settle down some, but during the latter phase of their weeping, Myra and Jytte gave way briefly for Oliver himself to partake in the exchange. Stooping to his knees, he and Julia both buried their heads in my chest for what felt like the longest few seconds of my mortal life.

  “I’m alright now mother—see, everything’s fine.” I told her gleefully, waving my arms around.

  Julia slowly stood up, struggling to tame the emotion that was reddening everything from her ears to the tip of her nose. “Liam, that was very reckless of you.” she told me somberly as she combed a hand through my hair. I could tell that she wanted to deliver that statement with a bit more weight, but the current circumstances wouldn’t allow it, her tone was far too weak for that.

  It couldn’t be called a scolding.

  “Goodness, I think I still need to calm down a little so I'll hold off on the scolding for now. You have no idea how worried we were.”

  “Sorry for worrying you. I didn’t mean to make you cry again.” I responded sheepishly.

  My sentence caught her off guard, eliciting a sudden silence amongst us as she stared at me, her expression softening by the second.

  “Well, whatever the case I'm happy you’re safe Liam, it's a real load off the shoulders. We can discuss the details another time but for now let’s just relax.” Oliver spoke up firmly, although it was faint I could hear the traces of sorrow and despair melding away in his tone.

  “Yes, you’re right. Let’s leave that for later, I think I’ve done more than enough crying.” Julia said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, and offered a weak smile.

  “I know, mother. It looked like you cried the most out of everyone.”

  “Eh? W-well...”

  ‘She did.” Myra affirmed, flapping into view. “Liam your mom’s been down for days. She wasn’t eating or sleeping properly, it was like the world ended for her or something.”

  “But you cried too Myra. I saw you doing it outside our tent last night.” Jytte announced innocently, her sentence alone was enough to destroy the Faerie’s facade.

  “S-s-so what?! It’s not like we weren’t all moping around! You were only second to Julia!”

  “Yeah, but I wasn’t trying to hide it like you miss righteous.”

  Jytte dealt a devastating blow to her comrade’s frail ego. Her face bloomed bright red and her wings started beating down incessantly as if she was about to unleash judgement upon the archer grinning deviously.

  In that moment, amidst the erupting chuckles and playful raillery, a powerful presence washed over me, usurping all traces of my joy. It felt like a bomb had suddenly appeared in my blind spot—a presence that was tame but absolute.

  Instead of speeding up, I felt the beat of my heart slow as if time itself had momentarily frozen. Each thud was heavier, slower, almost like it was syncing with the oppressive stillness that had settled around me. I was surrounded by veteran mages and a literal deity who all seemed to be rather comfortable with the dreadful presence hanging in the air, something that was only possible if we weren’t in any real danger.

  “Oh? So that’s him huh? The precocious little runt.” A deep voice rumbled at my back.

  In response, my body turned towards the source instinctively, filled with an eagerness unlike anything I had ever felt before. There were actually two people coming our way—the first was a tall man with lush grey hair and sharp features as if carved from stone. He moved with the gait of a hunter, his sharp gaze capable of cutting through the air like a blade. His clothing matched his demeanor almost too perfectly—a sleeveless outfit reminiscent of martial arts gear. He looked physically strong, but not in a healthy kind of way, his was the physique of a seasoned warrior.

  The man’s sharp amber gaze examined me carefully as he approached, making the seconds seem to slow for the two of us. There was no need to question his identity.

  “Master Erwin!”

  Irina shouted ecstatically. Her voice somehow managed to tame the tension in the air, if only for a brief moment.

  “Erwin, you’ll scare him if you make a face like that. Remember he’s still just a child.”

  The other figure—a woman sharing a stark resemblance to Julia lightly nudged the man on his arm. She’d probably intended to dull the slick smile on his face through force.

  Aside from her hair only being shoulder length, everything from the Signum mark on her forehead to the light shade of green hair was the exact same. Even her outfit could easily pass for a variation of Julia’s fashion sense—it was a layered a green tunic with intricate detailing and leaf-like patterns embroidered into the fabric.

  “It's fine Mavis, look he’s not even averting his gaze.” Erwin said simply, deepening his smile a bit.

  “Julia, it looks like your father has already made up his mind. He used to act like this when you were younger, but now that his grandson is finally here, his old ways are starting to surface again.” Mavis explained, her tone low and laced with amusement.

  “You make it sound like a bad thing. I haven’t even done anything yet.”

  “Father, we all know what you’re planning and the answer is no.” Julia insisted swiftly, she was smiling again but something about her expression felt rigid, as though a quiet kind of wrath lurked beneath those pleasant features.

  “How cruel of you, dear daughter — you’re already giving the boy a bad impression of his kind grandpa. I’m nothing more than a feeble old man.”

  “They wouldn’t call you the grandmaster if that were true.” My mother shot back, sounding peeved.

  Laughing away his daughter’s wits, Erwin came into range and swooped me out of Julia’s grasp in a heartbeat; he dangled my body in the air as if I was some kind of precious artifact. “It's good to finally meet you, Liam. I’m Erwin Lyndell — your grandfather.”

  “Nice to meet you grandfather.” I replied carefully. It wasn’t just his presence that stunned me; the marking on his forehead played a significant role in amplifying my shock.

  “The Signum’s actually there.” he added softly. “You really do have it at just four years old. Haha! Brilliant! Julia this is remarkable, he has incredible potential. Let me train hi —”

  “Absolutely not.”

  My mother's response was swift, abrupt, and sharp enough to cut through the very essence of excitement in the air. What’s more, she did it all with an unwavering smile on her face—a true feat of cold, rational precision. It was so seamless; it was as if her smile itself were a weapon.