Blaine's POV
Leadfoot Blaine had not volunteered to be the guard of the exploration venture. As if any knight worth his salt would.
Exploration ventures were for the desperate, untalented, and the despised. D.U.D. missions they called them. The kind of missions the Church or the wealthy lords gave as a last resort to criminals or people they wanted to get rid of.
The Crimson forest was one such mission. Sure, during the days the light of Aer shone through the gossamer red leave giving the impression the forest was on fire. The leaves were a prize commodity. The tree trunk of the forest were black and slick with runny sap that insects and small fauna used to hydrate themselves. But that made it hard to climb up. The trunks also didnt cut easily. Ax would bounce off injuring their owner and saw teeth dulled before and significant progress could be made. Chopping down one tree cost a small fortune. The return was great but a what cost.
Man eaters. No one knew what they looked like. It's just known they existed in the Crimson forest. Expeditions rare survived without a few missing person or mangled body's appearing outside the protected zone.
The rules were easy, stay within the enchanted boundary, especially at night. But somehow someone was always lost. And with a face to put on the beast and no way of knowing how people got lured away, only those with no future ever ended up on an excursion like this.
Criminals. Murders of nobleman, rapist ls convicted of harming a nobleman daughter, heretic to the Church and grunt soldier that didn't have enough support to chose any other fate.
And then there was Blaine. Blaine "Leadfoot" Featherblade of Norn. The black spot in his family's spotless history. The rapier was the calling card of the Featherblades. Tru to their name, the sword forged in the family had the reputation of being the most balanced and flexible in the land. The family forge was a national treasure. And in one afternoon, Blaine had destroyed no few that 50 swords of priceless measure.
He hadn't meant to. Rapiers never fit his style. His grip was too wide and he felt like a duck trying the quick attacks that the rest of his family could do so easily.
A broadsword fit him much better. But the Featherblade style was suit for such a large blade. So Blaine had tried to modify it to suit him, and in doing so his broadsword flew from his grip and cause the carfeuly maintained display a famous swords of forefathers to fall into the remelting pit.
No one wanted to answer why such precious swords were resting above a vat of molten metal. Blaine had been unanimously banished. He hadn't even been given a chance to explain.
He knew a swordsman's pride was everything, but who cared about some dusty old swords?
His redemption, to bring back a mythical beast and the patriarch would forgive his blunder.
Blaine knew it was banishment. Not even his mother comforted him.
Going after a mythical beast alone was akin to falling on his sword. And no one what to travel with him. Blaine thought he could make it on his own for a while, but he had become accustomed to the level of wealth his family held.
So he hired himself out to some lesser nobles he figured didnt know him. But who didint know of Leadfoot Blaine the Blight of his noble family. Some even speculated he was an outside son. With dark hair and rugged features. He was face outside the norm of the svelt and distinguished Featherblade.
Nevermind that his maternal grandfather had made his fame as a brawler and used gauntlets instead of a sword. Blaine had wish to meet him. But his mother said the old man died well before he was born.
So here Blaine was, on a fools errand for a noble house that would have kissed his feet before. Now he was answering to an untitled lord like a common Welch. Blaine kick a passing slave in anger. The useless thing worked so slow. He was tired of eating dried beef a forest stew. He wanted pheasant and creamed mushrooms on a delicate slice of aged cheese. With a glass of cured jelly wine.
The swordsman licked his lips just imagining the taste. It had been too long since he had decent food, let alone the delicacies he had grown up on.
But now he was regulated to being just an average person, he could understand why the peasants were always complaining. He had been rich is whole life, and now he had to work under someone unlike everyone he knew. It was bad that he had to explain what he did to earn money for his desires.
Everything cost money. His mother had a house in the city. But it was two floors and only a kitchen and dining room with a few bed rooms upstairs. His childhood room had a proper bathing pool. This cabin jad a tub that he couldn't even stand up in, he had to sit!
Further more, he had a single manservant. Blaine would have preferred a pretty girl, with light colored eyes and pouty lips. But instead he got a spy from his mother commenting on his every move. As if he needed reminders that he couldn't got back home until his mission was finished. Mother had only given his enough allowance for what she called basic needs. It was only enough to keep house. He couldn't even got to actions or horse races. Not to mention the colleseum. It was devastating. She told him to read books and practice his swordmanship. To her only son, she had no heart.
Blaine looked up at the sky and scowled. The sun hadn't even been down a few hours and he was already irritated.
It wasn't that he had a fear of darkness. Blaine loved the time. He could drink without judgement, groping any passing hump without care, and brawl ended as intended instead of petty city guards trying to get involved.
The nighttime of Swordlight City is where he thrived. And yet here he was stuck in the forest with pathetic sack.of meat that were working too slow. How hard could it be to cut a single tree? Blaine resolve to tell one of the overseers to cut back the workers' rations. If he was gonna be miserable, everyone would be miserable.
"Sir. Sir!"
Blaine scowled as one of the nameless mutt rushed over to him. Spineless and prone to panic, a day didnt go by without one of them begging for his protection. But hes price was too much for any of them
He was a properly trained knight. Regardless of his position in his family, he had graduated from the Academy with good marks. And he was a nobleman's son. Not some brainless grunt that only knew how to look tough.
Killing a board? 100 go. Plus the hide and tusks.
Killing a bear? 150
Scaring off an attacker? 200gm per person per incident.
Bodyguard? Ha! These wretched no longer had access to that type of wealth. Otherwise why would priests and scholars be working to cut down impossible trees in a dangerous forest. They had lost favor and their punishment was certain death.
If the lack of water didnt take them out, the miasma would. And miasma was something only the local creatures and a well trained warrior were able to withstand.
The protective boundary only was deployed around the immediate camp. So when they worked they were dehydrated which made their strength wane more. And once they could no longer be useful, their bodies were thrown to the forest for scavengers.
Blaine's scowled didnt change as the panic man recounted his tale.
"-And its on fire! No matter what we throw at it, it doesn't go down. But it seems weak surely a great warrior like yourself-"
"Not interested."
"But, sir!"
"A overgrown bear has you in such a tizzy. Once it realizes it cant get through it will return to the forest to sleep. And deal with who ever draw its attention."
"But sir!" The man pleaded.
Blaine rose to his full height, towering over the hunch figure, "Do you wish to wet my blade? It's quite thirsty."
The small man shudder and shook his head, still he continued, "Sir, it is no bear. I've never seen such a creature. Not even in a book."
Blaine raised his brows as a look of surprise graced his feature. His normal scowled gave him a look of superiority amongst those abandoned by their orders and too weka to protect themselves. But with his brows raise and mouth in shock, he looked every bit of the 23 year young man.
Blaine grunted and turned towards the front of the camp. He wasnt getting his hopes up, but he welcomed anything to break the monotony. "A minotaur?..no too far south. Maybe a kobold that got lost heading into hibernation."
Blaine trudged forward as the fearful shout grew. His face was barely containing his excitement. Even the basic guard seemed shaken. Blaine held back a grin. His hands flexed. When he stepped beyond the collection of tent he felt an emotion he thought was lost from him.
The mutt had been true. This thing was no bear. Blaine step forward and pushed the others with their shovels and rocks out of the way.
"We're all going to die!"
"Dearest vengeful Lord of legions, look down on your foolish servant-"
"Im too young for this. I slept with a married woman. It's that really such a crime?"
"Maybe we can throw some food at it and it'll run away?"
"Or a dead body. Give it some meat to be satisfied. Where the bastard that lead it here?"
"This creature is intelligent." He said with pride. The other shuddered as the the main they all were wary of seem please at the intruder in their camp. "Simple tricks of misdirection won't work. Can't you feel the energy comong off of it? I'd say at least 4 gems, maybe even diamond level."
"Sir Featherblade, you don't mean that thing understands human speech?" One of the lesser priest circles his heart before covering it with his hand. "But what manner of beast is it?"
Blaine widened his grin, "I'll name it once im done. But you'll not have to worry a bout any more mangled corpses when im done."
The crowd gasped and the all shuddered, "By Arwen's light it cant be!"
Blaine enjoyed their fearful responses it meant no one eould interfere with his kill. "Stay back, you're not match for it. Only magic can effect it."
Blaine didnt know that for sure but he hoped so. He wanted a nice long fight. It would raise his fame better to fight a undiscovered monster, but having a lengthy fight would showoff his skills.
"Um, sir...about the payment."
Blaine snorted, "Youre in luck. From now until sunrise, I'll kill any monster that comes near came for free, now back off."
Blaine pulled the standard issue long sword off of his belt. He threw down the chest plate and other forged protection untill all her wore were his pants and leather vest. In the bag on his hip, it held his emergency kit. He had some gold, a few precious gems, his family's sigal for when he was cornered by an enemy and two glowing pills.
One pill guaranteed his survival even within an inch of death, though he'd still need the camp physician to bind any wounds. That one was green with a murky white center. The second was red with black aura and a discernible pulsing.
His grandfather had given him both pills. Despite the impossibility of the mission, Lord Featherblade did see his grandson's talent. Maybe a less refined but an ability to make a man of himself. The old man couldn't allow such a talent to go to waste or be lost, despite the pressure of the elders. So he gave Blaine an out. A sigal if his opponent became to much and he needed saving. A recovery pill, and a berserk pill to tap into the full access to his core.
He had warned only to use as a last resort. Blaine grinned, his confidence over flowed. He swallow the ominous pill and cracked his neck as his body warmed and his vein bulged. His vision narrowed and increased in sharpness. Focus on the prize, my prey.
Blaine knew he had one chance. He held out his right hand calling forth his bound broadsword. His eyes honed on the creature across the boundary.
The flames licked around the beasts remained flesh. Blaine smirked, he could tell the beast was hanging on by sheer will. And Blaine enjoyed breaking the will of others.
He didnt rush forward. I stead his measured steps brought him face to face with the creature's yellow and red eyes. Blaine rolled his neck and lower his gaze.
"Son of Thanos: Doomborn, release."
_______________
Heritage Trait: Son of Thanos, Deizen of Forgotten Sorrows
Subtrait: Doomborn, born under a Dark Star of Thanos. Capable of reflecting 200% of attacks, while ignore 50% of damage for 5mins
1st Bonus ***Locked Condition Not Met
2nd Bonus ***Locked Condition Nor Met
¡Mandatory cool down 72hrs strength will decrease to 10, and Constitution will reach 1!
Aura level 5th stage
Midrealm
_____________________
Blaine raise his head up and train his gaze. The creature was nothing he had ever scene, but today he would enjoy faintly letting loose after so long. His trait gave him 5 minutes to cut the creature down. Blaine gripped his sword and felt the blade react as his imbuuded it with his now boosted aura.
He would take his tine until he was completely spent. His actions would become rumors of pride and no one would ever doubt his capabilities again.
"Come. Let me see what you are worth."
Jordan's POV
The family was all seated around the table. Grand thar at the head. 1st uncle and wife wife to the right. Then his 2nd through his 6th uncles, all alive and well. Their wives appeared a shadows of themselves, but still all at the table, as if they were waiting for something.
A piercing squeal of unoiled hinges broke thea heavy silence, followed by the hollow thwank of solid wood into well built walls, and the second echo of the door shutting closed again.
Avery wore a well tailored suit as he strolled leasirely to the table. His hand never left his trouser pockets,not even as he came to stand at the end of the table.
"It's done." He said dismissively.
Grandfather scowled, "What did you mean its done? Do you have any idea the spectacle you cause?" The old man's fist caused the dishes of the table toe rattle and clank when it connected with the table. "I said make it clean. His body is all over the news! Claiming hes the 'Lost Golden Son'!"
"But father-"
"Quiet Ira! This is your fault. You could even raise a proper son."
Ira Evers, known for matching his father's heavy presence, accepted the scolding. He could fully disagree. Avery's lackeys of discipline was on him. Every since his wife had died, controlling the boy had become difficult. And now, things were irreversible.
The boy rolled his eyes, "I dont see why you're so upset. It's not like you cared about my cousin anyway. You're the one that wanted him dead."
Avery rolled his shoulders and eyed the sunken faces before him and smirked, "I half expected to see him here now, but im not disappointed that his soul's moved on."
Nigel Evers flame to his feet. His eyes bulged from his head and spittle showed the decorative dishes as he seethe.
Avery frowned, "I won't be staying for dinner."
"Listen, here boy!" The patriarch spat. "Your folly has cost this family its strength. Do you know how difficult it will be to draw his soul back to this plane. I told you to handle it personally. Not push him off a damn bridge!"
Avery began to laugh.
Just behind him dotted near the door, stood Jordan. Or perhaps he was hovering. But he hadn't been able to move nor speak.
Jordan couldnt believe what he was seeing. 5 of his uncle's that he knew to have died tragically young...were seated at the table, and aged past the date of their death.
And he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Avery pushed him? His memories hadn't settled but given what he had pieced together he assumed between a bad accident or walked off a ledge, he had been his own undoing. Jordan could only mouth, Why would you push me? You already won!
Jordan wanted to fight. He wanted to bash Avery's head it. He wanted to stop his incessant laughter. Had his family really not cared about him at all?
"This is no laughing matter, Avery. You future and the strength of this family hangs in the balance. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to raise a vengeful spirit?"
Avery rolled his eyes again. He walked over to the liquor cabemt and poured him self a glass. After swirling the glass, he smirked again, "Yeah, kinda failed with Auntie, didn't you? She never did care for your approval one way or another. But then again, she never did quite see you as her father."
Avery down the seving before pouring another, "to be honest, im not really convinced of this whole mumbo jumbo. I mean, you guys-" he gestured to his undead seniors. "Look, well, better than you deserve. But Hollywood's made SF makeup a full blown industrial now."
Ira sighed and tested his voice, "Son, our family may have traditions that seem, outdated. But it is all for your benefit. It is the duty of a child to do its father's will. Children must live for their parents-"
"And die for their brothers? Tell me father, did you ever even speak to you sister even once?"
Ira's face darkened. Meia may be his sister by birth but Nigel had raised him to never think of her as more than a burden. His younger brother were likewise give just evenough leave to enjoy life, before needing to serve the family's good. After they themselves had a child that would carry on their line. Ira hadn't been comfortable looking at his brothers' face. Not that they would ever know, but their wife and children somehow hadn't made it long after their deaths. Even father doesn't know. And that old witch only speaks in riddles.
Ira didnt know what his grandmother knew, but he knew she knew something. It was one thing for his sister to never shed a tear, she was an animal. But his grandmother never even batted an eyes, as if she had already accepted the news long before they told her.
"You should cease you musings there."
The energy in the room shifted. Dark honey skin, with bright clear eyes. Winnie Evers stepped into the dinning room cloaked in her shawl and walking stick in hand.
"Mother." The close Nigel ever came to a soft tone. His smile was strained as he topl his mother's form in. "We were just discussing the funeral proceeds for Jason."
"He name is Jordan."
"Jordan, son."
The room looked back and forth between Winnie and her greatgrandchild.
Even Jordan in his spectral form was surprised. His greatgrandmother was expected. His grandfather always got his name wrong. As if, his name wasnt worth remembering. But Avery's voice had been surprising.
Winnie looked off into the distance, her countenance peaceful. "That child is finally able to rest and chose his own path. I won't have you disturbing him."
"Mother we must, foe his spirit to find solace. I know she would want it."
The nearly centagenerian sighed and closed her eyes. When she opened them, they were glistening. Her eyes again looked off, and Jordan felt as if she was the only one in the room who could see him.
"She chose give her remaining light to her son. Im sorry you had to find out like this."
Jordan felt his chest tighten. No.
The woman dabbed her eyes, and forced a smile. "It was what she wanted. It was her finally gift."
Jordan again curse his inability to move. She wouldn't. No. He felt his face, or at lease the ghost of his face contort. His mother was that kind of person she wouldn't do that. She never even said she loved, me. Why would she?
Winnie's tapping on her lips was so intentional and her gaze so steady, Jordan was certain it was meant for him.
Nigel cleared his throat and his eye twitched as he processed his mother's words, "Im not sure I am understanding can you speak clearly."
Winnie left her gaze fall flat on her son. Her voice grew hoarse as disgust rose from her heart, "You've played too long in the devil's hand. Yet, you only have the right to what is offer freely. Nothing more."
When the room remained silent, it was Avery that spoke, "Auntie killed her self because she thought she was next?"
The old healer shrugged,"She had grown bored of this life. And felt it was her duty as a mother to prevent any further suffering for her son. So, my girl may never waken her soul again...but sweet Jordan will find his calling, elsewhere. He's a smart boy I'm sure he'll figure things out eventually. He has my legacy after all, which leads me to my next point."
She took measured steps down the hall u til she came right in front of where Jordan looked on. Her smile was knowing. Jordan felt his chest tighten as her earring stick tapping on the temple.
Winne turned and tilted her head slightly. "Now that my own heir have left this world. I think its time for me to take a rest as well."
Jordan felt his body pull gently, but firmly forward, it was as if she had release him from his prison, and now he was bound to her.
"Mother, I know these recent events are shocking to you but you must do anything drastic. He just one boy."
Winnie looked back her eyes passed over the reanimated remained of her remaining descendants, "I count 6, and by extention 23. Let's not forget your brothers Jessop and Sloan."
Nigel's figure shook at the mention of the forgotten names, "That woman's spawn were never your concern, Mother. Can you see it built this for you."
"No, my son." She shook her head and cast a pitying glance at the empty seats around the table, "You di all of this, for your ego. What is taken will be repaid. Today or tomorrow, and we dont get to choose the manner."
Jordan tried to catch up on everything he had learned and look of anger mixed rejection on his grandfather's face. Who were Jessop and Sloan?
Winnie Evers didn't look back as she drew in out the meeting room doors. Jordan's hungrily took in the portraits that hung on the walls. From his greatgrandfathers. His grand parents wedding portrait. Family portraits for each time one of his uncle's or cousins were born. Wedding photos, family functions. Only three images were missing.
"I never had the patience for portraits. I might perform to make memories with art and eating. And as for you mother...well im sure that no surprise."
No the surprise is how this is all happening.
"I know, I know. But we dont have much time. You'll be waking up soon and I wanted to help your transition along before that foolish child of mind get wind of it. Or worse that one."
What on-
"Listen, duckie. We dont have much time."
Jordan huffed. At least she's speaking clearly for once.
"Im sure you already heard this. But he has done evil things with sacred arts. Yet refuses to see his reaping is coming. Ill gott e gsin with prove themselves. That why I always kept you close. I had hoped this day would never come."
Her eyes glistened again. Jordan flet a lump in his throat. Is she really?
"Yes, my duck. Buy she will always be with you. She had wn awkward way of showing it. But she did love you. Regardless of.." she trailed off. Somethings didn't need to be said.
"Anyway, we will meet again, when the time is right. Focus on living for yourself this time. And be good, of course you will!" She laughed as tears brimmed her eyes. "I wish I could tell you more, but wherever you are now is exactly where fate needs you to be."
Jordan watched as his matriarch cont8nued walking. The passed by the ornate gardens that surrounded the main house and came to the old willow that had withstand 3 generations of thunderstorms. Winnie slowly sank down to the ground and propped her stick beside her.
"Ah, this is a good spot. I always did enjoy a good summer breeze. The perfect time for a good long rest." She closed her brown eyes and hummed
Jordan took in her frame. Her once peppered hair had turned fully white. Her skin though free from wrinkles had lost its plumpness. And her hand where thin to the bone. She had lived a long life. She deserved a rest.
When will I see you again?
"Hm, dont linger on what's been done. You'll find peace by not fretting over what you have not control over. Don't worry. Life my little girl, I will always be with you."
Jordan reach out his hand only to find an aqueous barrier. He pressed and best against it. Gran. Gran. Granny! Wait, don't leave. Gran i'm not ready yet, please. I want to stay.