A/N: I feel sick as hell.
-
"How terribly cruel."
The sentiment left Waver's lips as a hushed whisper, his hand clutched his stomach, and it took all he had in him to stop himself from trembling as he watched his students fight something in the realm of a phantasmal.
As he watched the dark night light up in swirls of flame, kaleidoscopic explosions of mana. As he watched steel and stone meet fang and claw. He felt his student wrestle control of the very workshop they stood in from its master and...
Well and truly, he was enamored.
He was obsessed with these incredible miracles they could bring into the world. As their teacher, his chest swelled with pride and a smile threatened to break onto his face. Their talent, their ability, it was such that the delicate balance of the Clock Tower would easily be tipped if even one decided to pursue that end.
Flat had continuously stolen the formulae of famed teachers, improved them, and then proceeded to forget them entirely. With the bare minimum effort, Henry could do the same, and actually recall his actions. Gray freely wielded the power of a proper heroic spirit, those incredible figures of a legend. Svin's bestial magecraft let him borrow the power of a legendary phantasmal species spoken of in legend.
All incredible. All nearly impossible.
And now, those heights that were unattainable for most magi, he watched teenagers reach out for them with his own two eyes, under his tutelage.
Yes, as Lord El-Melloi II, the tutor of the El-Melloi Classroom, he felt nothing but pride and joy at that.
But, as Waver Velvet, being witness to this was... the cruelest of pranks, something even Reines would hesitate to try. It poured cold water on those lingering hopes of one day achieving these miracles himself.
He was not so inept as to not know his own limits. No, it was precisely because he knew them that his throat felt clammed, and a terrible pain welled up in his heart. He knew that no matter how hard he tried and kicked and screamed and struggled, it would be like screaming into a deep abyss. He would never be able to attain them himself.
Talent was a pretentiously fickle thing, after all.
It was a painful truth. One he accepted. One he still dreaded.
Perhaps with one of them in his place, even that person would have-
Ashborn's beast made a mad lunge for him, claws held out. Waver knew they would tear him to shreds in a second. He still put his cigar to his lips.
"Don't make the same mistake your master did. My students aren't so unremarkable as to not care for their teacher."
Those words rang true the next instant when Henry took a hold of the beast's face with both his hands, grinning. Then, Gray fell from the night like a comet wrapped in mana. Her foot struck on the beast's head, and through their combined efforts, his students smashed the lumbering creature against the earth, sending dirt and stones flying all over.
The Istari Family's Knight charged the beast from the side, and dragged it through the much along the tip of his lance.
He couldn't even hope to mimic a fraction of what they did in those few moments.
But, well, for Lord El-Melloi II and for Waver Velvet, being a tutor to these exceptional people would have to be enough.
Their success could never be his, not truly, but their respect for him brought an unwitting smile to his face.
To think, someone who had attacked him when first they met was now protecting him so fiercely.
It was a different kind of elation. He could not say he didn't like it. They were still headaches. That was never going to change with how they were. But, that was fine too.
No, Waver Velvet just held the small wish that when one day they realised their remarkable potential, their hearts would hold some small gratitude for the unremarkable him too. Other than that, he was resolved to continue exploring the miracle that was magecraft. He couldn't create these miracles, but that didn't mean he didn't love them.
"Your students are a pretty scary bunch, Lord El-Melloi II. I want to apologise for any perceived offense in advance." Flueger, the nomadic spellcaster, mumbled beside him, thick arms crossed.
Waver blew out smoke. "Why is that?"
"Well. I'm 100% that I'd get killed. Ahahahahahaha...!!" He threw back his head and laughed heartily. "Look at what they're doing to that thing. I almost feel pity."
Waver discreetly caught a glimpse of Henry slapping the massive creature across the face to no effect then just eyeballing it. When it tried to bite at him, Luviagelita dropkicked it in the side of the head and sent it reeling across the garden.
"That's just plain disrespectful."
"They're not really doing much though." Waver noted. He glanced at his wristwatch. "Gray. It's time to use that if you would, please."
Gray jumped back from the battle. She ducked her head and tilted her head confusedly, as if asking if he was sure. Her hands clutched the massive scythe in her hand.
"None of you possess the firepower to neutralise it without that."
This time, she only nodded.
"The rest of you, retreat."
Henry complied without a second thought and so did the Edelfelt Princess... but not before throwing some cheap insult his way. Heine quietly followed suit. The Ashborn beast simply watched them, perhaps apprehensive after the treatment they just gave it.
"Add!"
"Comin' right up, girlie!"
"Did that scythe just talk?" Henry's question was promptly ignored.
The world shifted once more. Mana swirled around Gray's lithe form as her hood fell back to reveal a face that Waver dreaded. A graceful beauty with dull green eyes and ashen hair.
"Gray... Rave... Crave... Deprave..."
Her scythe hummed with untold power as she began chanting to reveal the truth of Add, the Mystic Code that was more of an annoyance than anything else most of the time. Waver pushed down the discomfort that welled in his heart, and simply watched his apprentice.
Gray. The girl with a hateful face. A gravekeeper he found in a secluded place best forgotten. The product of generations of work done towards bringing back a certain person of legend being successful from a place of no note save for one thing.
It held the grave of a great king.
"Engrave in me... A grave for you..."
The Great King her family sought to bring back. The King who drew the sword from the stone. The King whose name was Arthur.
Arthur Pendragon.
With that knowledge in hand, Add's truth was no real mystery. No, it was not that 'sword'. But , anyone familiar with the legend knew of the mythical lance King Arthur wielded.
"Pseudo-personality suspended. Magical energy yield exceeds regulation. Second stage restraint rescinded."
The seal that was Add came undone. The mystery faded. And a certain spear began to take its place.
Suddenly, in his awe, it struck Waver that he was forgetting something. His gaze fell on eyes reminiscent of an ethereal summer sky. And then, realisation struck. He couldn't keep his voice in check, not if even a fraction of his 'realisation' was truth.
He shouted.
"Henry! No matter what you do, you must not look at it with bare eyes!"
Confusion played across his student's face, but thankfully, he obeyed. He quickly threw on the sleek aviators that functioned as his Mystic Eye Killers.
"Professor, you're such a boor-"
"Are you confident that your mind, even if backed by your circuits, can handle seeing the truth of the divine?"
Henry only tilted his head, even more confused.
But before Waver could explain, Gray's words made them all fall into silence.
"Sacred Lance, removing restraints!"
A brilliant gold erupted from within her hand, and for a moment, it became impossible to tell if it was night or day. His eyes became blind.
"Rhongo-"
Ashborn's beast shot at Gray at impossible speed. But it was too late. She only whispered in response, her voice unreasonably soft.
"-myniad!"
That brilliant holy lance erupted from the young girl's hand. It tore through the beast. It did not stop. The great angel watching over Adra disappeared, and the lance ripped into the hillside beside the castle, taking everything with it and leaving nothing behind.
Indeed, it was an impossible miracle, to wield the power of a heroic spirit, to wield a noble phantasm.
Forevermore, Adra Castle was marked by the manifestation of that spear.
-
I later learned that the reason my professor had shouted out that warning was really for my own good. If I had laid eyes on that divine spear right there and then, surely my eyes would have bled and my mind turned to mush from daring to analyze a godly phenomenon down to a sub-atomic level.
-
Hope you enjoyed.