Chapter 4: The Last Epic
The stage was set—the belly of a monster that had consumed many adventurers, their tales were forever written into fate as tragedies that were the old staples of the Gods and Goddesses’ entertainment.
The thespians were assembled—the younger brother who would act as the shield for the sister that could bring about the destruction of the beast as the comedy of eld had once upon a time did.
Now was the prologue—that which would determine whether the tale would be a tragedy, a comedy, or something entirely different written upon the canvas of fate. And the curtains rose on the opening performance as the smoke cleared.
The cyclopean eye cast its baleful gaze down upon the pair within its body, a monster that was potentially Level Four in terms of threat against a Level Three Mage and Level Two Vanguard. Its superiority should have been absolute, yet the proof of their defiance was forever etched into its body as its tendrils that had been cut and burned flailed above menacingly where those who came before never managed to do so. In fury, it renewed its assault by bringing the tendrils down towards them both once more.
The pair kicked off the ground. One to the left. One to the right. The whips came crashing down in the center with a splash that acted as a wall between them, obscuring their vision and splitting them apart.
Yet Lefiya felt calm compared to the last time and her mind felt clearer. She knew her role and his. Bell would be her vanguard and would protect her without fail.
However, as he was now, he would be unable to fulfill that role. His injuries had begun taking their toll. His blood was spilling out uncontested and making him light-headed. His legs were being eroded by the constant contact with the acid. So her first order of business should be to ensure her brother could do his job.
“I’ll act as a decoy until I finish the first spell to buff your defense! You look around for something that can help protect me by the end of my chant!”
“Got it!” The white rabbit darted through the acid as if his feet were on fire once the whips began focusing on him. It was most likely because his Magic as the last one used, following its species tendency to fixate on it.
She began a song just for him. “I beseech the name of Wishe! Ancestors of the forest, proud brethren. Answer my call and descend upon the plains.”
The melodic voice drew the eye of the monster towards her as it gave birth to a ring beneath her feet, golden in hue as it illuminated the dank chasm. Those whips that had been pursuing her brother then came towards her, readying to strike her down—
—but as soon as its gaze left him behind, her brother let loose his electrical spear of flames that slammed against it once more and filled its vision with scarlet and smoke. The lack of sight provided her an escape as her lowered reaction was compensated for while she kept up her chant and her magic circle expanded with the accumulation of magical power.
“Connecting bonds, the pledge of paradise. Turn the wheel and dance.”
The hunger for Magic like a ravenous animal left it to lash out towards her as the magical energy within her body seemed to course madly with every pulse of her heart. Denied its eye for exact targeting by the obscuring smoke, it relied on wild sweeps. But those she could avoid by the narrowest of margins as she kept up her chant.
“Come, ring of fairies. Please, give me strength—Elf Ring.”
And with that the Summon Burst was complete. The gateway to a realm where the spells of all of Elvenkind were stored opened, a vast and expansive repository that had no guide and offered no guidance. Those who stepped into the realm could only bring with them the knowledge they accumulated on their own to reach in pluck at the weave of magic.
Among the spells stored within the infinite corridor of the Elves of the past and future, there was one she knew to compensate for her brother’s condition. If the flesh was weak, steel it. If injuries were present, mend them. She used that knowledge to pull from that collection a spell belonging to only the noblest of blood among their long-lived yet dying race.
And in reflection of that, the magic circle the hue of her soul turned a magnificent shade of jade.
The smoke cleared as Lefiya stopped moving. Her Magic had reached its crescendo and the cost was heavy on her in terms of Mind and focus alike. The entry fee of accessing her kin’s archives of knowledge was steep for one of mixed-blood. No longer running, magical energy densely surrounding her to the extent of rising into the air as glimmering motes, the whips immediately came rushing towards her to claim it even as they stirred the acid so that her vision of the world outside of her immediate area was narrowed.
She ignored the death closing in on her in favor of the sensation in her chest—of expectation and anticipation backed by the faintest sound of rapid splashes that grew closer. She could feel him coming towards her.
“Gather, breath of the earth—in my name of Alf.” Extending her arms out as if expecting a loving embrace, she finished her song as it went from a solo performance to a duet once her mentor’s voice overlapped her own. “Veil Breath!”
The magic took shape and leaped from her body as the curtain of acid was broken by a bulwark of silver, backed by a dark shadow. Jade light swaddled her brother’s body as he came rushing past her with a shield in hand, having reclaimed it. He raised it, intercepting the incoming whips with all his might, and a gong-like sound rang out as the shield buckled beneath the intense force even as it rebuffed the tendrils.
Then Bell tossed the shield away and bound into the air while bringing his onyx knife overhead at the tendrils and roaring the name of his spell once more. “FIREBOLT!”
Flames erupted along the line of the swing. The explosion shook the air as the appendages recoiled from his assault as Lefiya knew it would. It really was amazing that he had such a Magic given his limited time in Orario. She wondered how far he would grow with enough time if he survived for all his recklessness…
No, she would make sure he survived. As long as he was in front of her, she would protect him without fail. She would dedicate her Magic and her soul to make sure that he could become all that he could be.
So she began her song anew, a hymn of destruction for the one who would rob him of his future.
“Unleashed beam of light, limbs of the holy tree…”
Bell felt thunder rumbling in his chest.
It had been there since he had lost consciousness from that last hit, the moment the back of his head hit the wall. He had descended into a dark place, the depths of which held the memory of when he first saw his sister. She had been pretty, her ears reminding him of a butterfly resting against the flower in bloom that was her face.
He was happy to learn that she was someone he could call family. Then she looked at him with hateful eyes and said that she never wanted to see him again. He had cried back then so much that he thought the tears would never stop.
But his grandfather had told him that it would be okay. She had a rough life because not everyone saw her the same as he had been. The blood that bound the two of them had also separated her from others.
He wanted to protect her like the heroes in the stories his grandfather told him would the girls around them.
Except that when he arrived in Orario his sister was already far ahead of him. Not only was she a member of the Loki Familia, one of the strongest Familia at present, but she was a Level Three. She didn’t need someone as weak as him to protect her. She wouldn’t even acknowledge him unless he caught up to someone who he had only heard whispers about when he tried to figure out where his sister was.
Then he had met Aiz in the Dungeon and understood why that was.
Her hair. Her eyes. Her figure. Her power. Everything about them seemed so transcendent that he felt something deep within him stir. He wanted her to acknowledge him too. He wanted to protect her too. For some reason, he wanted to…
He wanted to see her smile with his own eyes.
It could only be love.
But he was faced with the truth of the matter soon enough. Regardless of his own desires, he could never make them come true as he was. He couldn’t gain the acknowledgment of his sister, nor hope to do the same as someone like Aiz as he was. He was weak and needed to be protected by the very girls he wanted to protect.
It was no wonder his sister refused to acknowledge him.
That was why he threw himself into the Dungeon. He delved into the same depths that his sister and Aiz had in the hopes of catching up to them. He went on an adventure to seek the strength to make them recognize him as an equal and acknowledge him.
Then he had lost consciousness and, in those dark depths, he realized that he had still been too weak. He was still being protected by his sister. Even though she was in just as much danger as he was, she had been constantly protecting him while he couldn’t do anything.
“For this moment I have earned the power that I do not deserve!”
It was then he heard a voice. He heard a voice that sounded like his own. It sounded a little older and dramatic, but it felt like his own words being spoken as a golden radiance slowly revealed itself nestled within the depths. It seemed ancient and yet everlasting, drawing his eyes even as the air became charged.
“You and I are united for eternity.”
At that moment he understood it was power. Perhaps more power than he deserved as a failure who couldn’t even protect his sister on his own. In the end, every bit of power he had so far was all power that was bequeathed to him in the end.
His knife was bequeathed to him by his Goddess rather than something he forged on his own. His Magic was something he was bequeathed by a Grimoire he took for his own rather than something he earned as others do. Even now, before him was more power that he hadn’t done anything to deserve. But…
I’ll get stronger and stronger. Until one day I can protect my sister on my own. Until one day I can protect everyone with my own power. I swear it! But for now, I will borrow this strength for the sake of everyone else!
The moment he reached for that spark a jolt of electricity snapped his awareness back into consciousness. He saw his sister being swept up into the air and her death assured. He saw the axe nearby and he moved to protect her as the thunder rumbled in his chest.
Even now it continued to rumble within his chest as he stood in the defense of his sister so she could sing her next song, the lilt in her voice a melody that resonated in his heart as the whips closed in to silence her.
He cried out from the depths of his lungs as he gave his all to protect her. He slashed his blade of bequeathed power from his Goddess with all the force he could muster, offering the blade the flames of the bequeathed Magic he possessed from a Grimoire whose owner was unknown, while swaddled in the comfort and shelter of the protective veil bequeathed from his sister. “FIREBOLT!”
The explosion rattled the air as sections of the tendrils were blown away, the wafting smoke and scattering embers of the appendages leaving a trail as it retracted them. Yet, it hadn’t learned to fear his blade or flame. It continued to seek out his sister as she wove her spell with intimate words, her lips illuminated by the golden hue of her Magic. “You are the master archer…”
The whips lashed at his protected body as he fended the attacks off. Even then the blows that had been softened by the enchantment stung as they ripped away at the Salamander Wool. The pain tore deep even with the veil intact.
But with a roar he bore with the pain and reached out to his spell, wielding a flaming sword even as he felt the onset of Mind Collapse from expending so much power. He continued to protect her without fail until he heard the final verse of her song. “—Pierce, arrow of accuracy!”
Golden radiance filled the monster’s belly with its brilliance as her magic circle became all-encompassing as she let loose her nocked arrow woven of Mind and Magic. The monster that Bell had never encountered before, its sinuous vines and humanoid torso, seemed to sense the impending death and braced for it. “ARCS RAY!!!!”
The air howled. The acid quivered and fled in endless ripples. The golden pillar ascended towards the roof of their prison, towards their captor who watched from above, and slammed into it like the divine returning to the heavens in the picture of what Bell imagined the Magic of Heroes to be through his dazzled vision—light that shunted away the darkness with absolute might.
There was an inhuman screech as the monster cried out while meeting the light head-on. It refused to bow to that light, even as it seemed to be pressed against its lid and was slowly being eaten away. It held strong even as the walls around them trembled and began to close in from every side, trying to crush them.
“Nnnngghhh…” Bell could hear his sister’s strained voice as she continued to unleash everything that she had built up, her gaze unyielding and unshakable even as she gazed deep into the light. She raised her staff higher and gave it her all and more to open up a path for them.
You‘re really amazing, sister. Bell couldn’t help but feel that from the depths of his heart as he once more saw how far he had to go to catch up to her. And she could still go further if the idol they shared was still far ahead of them. He couldn’t let it end here for her.
His right hand began to shed white-and-blue sparkles of light that glistened as he raised it to the sky along with her staff. His sister’s eyes met his as seconds passed and a wordless message carried between them as the lights dancing around his palm and small chimes intensified. She nodded to him before directing her gaze up towards the monster once more put everything she could afford to into her own spell as he let loose his own.
All while both shared a single thought. “I won’t let you die here!”
Light burst from his hand, a white radiance that wrapped around the lightning flame towards their enemy. But, along the way, the spell bent and twisted as it wove itself around the golden pillar until it was a beacon of white-and-gold that shone with the light of the sun.
That transcendent swallowed the monster and the world around them whole…
As the pillar of radiance illuminated the night of the Under Resort, the God of Travel found it in himself to smile as the crystalline ceiling of the Dungeon reflected the light and gave the appearance of diamonds strewn upon a dark sky.
There was once a tale that Zeus had told him back before the Gods and Goddesses had descended. The comedy of a jester that would become known as the hero of the dawn. The first performance that had captivated the gods.
Zeus had on a whim observed the jester who was meant to be nothing more than a fool to be tossed away by the machinations of a king driven mad. Another victim of a long-standing tragedy in the making. Yet that jester ventured forth to the Spirit Shrine for the chance to turn the tragedy into a comedy.
So he beckoned a great spirit to form a contract with the jester to see what would come about.
And it had been his greatest joy to watch that grand performance.
The truth known only to the eldest of gods.
The dawn of the era of heroes.
The first heroic tale.
Hermes had missed the first performance. The heroic comedy that reached the gods and enraptured them so much that they turned their gaze to the lower planes wholly and eventually descended to give rise to heroes of their own—to be a part of their tales rather than mere observers. To miss that had been one of his greatest regrets.
That was why this time Hermes would be the choragus. He would see all the thespians assembled. He would see the finest theatron, Orario itself, be their stage. All for the sake of a new tale—not a comedy or a tragedy.
But a heroic epic that transcends all else.
The Last Epic.