I took a deep breath as I opened the door, my siblings and I had returned to our childhood home many times since our parents departed on their last journey; to prevent it's fall into disrepair, but this is the first time we had all come together in a long time.
Between brother struggling in any place marked by father's power and our individual lives and duties, getting us all in one place for such a thing is nigh on impossible.
Despite its age the building was in perfect condition, we visited regularly to keep it clean, yet still the home we grew up in now felt haunted to me.
Mother and father had left the known lands decades ago, their closest friends playing honour guard to people who left human limitations behind in their adolescence, though in truth they only went as no one ever thought we'd see or hear anything from them again.
Feeling their presence wash over the land again filled my siblings and those remaining who knew them with joy and hope for reunion, but my unique relationship with the magic of this world quickly turned those feelings to despair and grief for me as it sang songs of mourning.
We made our way through the living room and upstairs, flashes of the past flowing through my mind with every step, visions of cuddling with my parents on the lounge chair, cooking in the kitchen, all bittersweet memories now.
The thrumming presence which had washed over the land, was now guiding us towards the study, unmistakably father's power a needlessly complex weave of energy, filled with emotions, the signature twinge of caution that border lined paranoia, a sensation that was filling me with painful nostalgia.
We open the door, and the source of the summons was obvious, on each of the desks where our parents planned their most ambitious ventures sat a book and a letter, none of which had been there during any prior visitations.
I loved mum with all my heart, but dad and I shared a special bond in the isolation felt by people whose power sets them apart. Deciding that should be where I start while brother makes his way to mothers without hesitation, I make my way to his desk and take the envelope in hand.
As my tears saturate the embossed paper, I feel my husband's hand on my shoulder and take a deep breath before breaking the waxen seal and removing the contents.
"A lesson from your father." leave it to dad to start a letter with a title heading. I grimace at the thought of how the book will read, noting Tiamuth's expression of smugness as though he had already imagined the letter starting this way. Returning my attention to the paper, I look to the others and begin reading aloud.
To Mana, Elira, Kitra, Brim, Tiamuth and any others who have joined, and stand by you.
It has been a long time coming, but if you are reading this then everything is as I thought it would be. Though this was Lia's idea and her intent was a final farewell, I have decided to use this as a way to educate you, rather than bond.
In truth, I was never much of a father, I failed in many ways and whilst I most certainly cared for you all and tried my best to meet all your needs and expectations, I was consumed by hate and longed for the time I when I would leave this world and the peace I felt only oblivion could bring.
That said Mana was much the same and I always feared she would walk the same path, if she remains as headstrong as the girl I raised, so read my story, learn from it.
I fear your future battles will be greater than ours and your power lesser, but if you learn what I hope to impart in this tome, you shall stand victorious in the face of any foe.
Read well, learn well, and maybe you can finally obtain all we laid the groundwork for and strove toward.
"Definitely Unity. No one else would take that long to try and say I love you all and want you to be happy, only to forget his own point and transition into a lecture." Tiamuth's words and tone belying the sadness in his eyes, the weight of losing his second father hitting him full force in that moment.
I ask the others if they are okay with me reading the book to myself first, but the expressions worn by the others tell me they already knew I would be first to read dads, as Elira, who had already began studying the pages before him, would be the first to read mothers.
I know my husband won't object, and nor would Kitra since she could likely read the entire thing during the first break I take. I'm mainly asking Brim who I realised had become too overcome with emotion to read anyway.
Lesson 1
Life is not a choice but forced upon us.
The world was harsh, violent, filled with corruption and we were too busy surviving to try living. Magic, violence, and monsters were its most distinguishing features, yet humans somehow managed to endure and even thrive, to a certain extent, still they weren't satisfied they still wanted more, as humanity always did, a habit so intrinsic I doubt it could ever be fully excised.
Born on the fourteenth day, of the fourth month of Omnis, in the 812th year of the age of discord. I was evaluated at birth the same as everyone at that time and measured worthless.
At birth we were weighed, reactions tested, senses tested, strength tested, constitution tested. Most were measured magically, scientifically, or medically, though the last was tested in a more primitive way. Any child found to be gifted in one or more of these areas was given preferential treatment, as was their family.
Being measured worthless however meant I possessed next to no magic potential, neither did I show any signs of some physical or biological trait that set me apart.
My parents were common born, in regard to the class system of old, and a pure example of how vile humanity could be, having children they harbour no love for in the selfish hope one would prove to be their key to a better life. Which meant being labelled worthless made me no more than a drain on resources they didn't have.
The first year of my life was very nearly the last, Ironic given that my first year of life overlapped with the first year or the Age of Rebirth. Yet the irony did nothing to halt my unending suffering at the hands of my father, nothing would until it became apparent that he had beaten me into someone strong.
Too strong in fact, something was changing in me with every harrowing day. I adapted to hunger, rather than succumb to it. My once dull senses became sharper, my poor reactions were honed to a knife's edge, my instincts became almost precognitive, my once weak body was growing stronger by a physically painful degree, and my body learned to heal injuries that most couldn't, even scars began to disappear.
You would think my newfound strength would be a blessing, but no, no blessings were ever bestowed upon me; it was merely the most basic instinct to survive that broke down the limits as well as the very essence of my humanity. My hatred, pain, fear, and suffering were fuelling my growth and as a result it was twisted and warped. I couldn't feel anything, physically or emotionally. I merely clung to the emotions that were already present, let them fester and make me stronger.
In return I lost any sense of joy or hope, my conscious will had been buried and I was able to act on instinct alone, my body was left incapable of feeling warmth or chill, hunger or thirst and if it wasn't for instinct driving me to sustain myself, I would probably have simply withered away.
By the age of four I was as strong as my father, I never struck back, but I never let him lay a finger on me again, nor did I try to help the siblings who watched as I suffered when my father turned his frustrations on them. I would acknowledge that such a decision made me as bad as them, but to do so would undersell my sin, I had the power to put an end to it and consciously chose not to, that makes me far worse than weak children cowering from a furious father.
I became more and more savage and defensive over the course of the next year. Until the twenty-third day of the six month of Vikris a little more than two months after I turned five, someone with the will to instil discipline came along and took me away. My parents were happy to sell me for a few lousy coins, so a new chapter of my life could begin.
The man who brought me had a strange air about him, introducing himself as Storyteller, even my highly aggressive instincts told me to do was wait and see.
We left the north-eastern slums, and he took me to live in the quainter south-western district which almost seemed a world away. The depressing run-down slums, with streets scattered with scum, criminals, slavers, and diseased paupers. Replaced with streets of terraced houses and spattering of independent cottages, it was in one such cottage my mental reform would begin.
Just over six months of strict, though nonviolent, re-education later I was instilled with that mental discipline and from there was able to train my mind as well. Quickly learning many things; history, science, maths I absorbed all the knowledge I could devouring it in a gluttonous fervour, and before I knew it, I was smarter than most.
I only knew this however because of the way adults would go silent when I spoke. No one ever spoke a word of praise but Storyteller, and even he encouraged me to hide my knowledge, ever fearful of some threat I was ignorant of.
Ashamed of being educated by an infant, I was often assaulted when I inadvertently offended nobles, guards, or random drunkards I made comment to when my Passion for a subject outweighed my own generalised hatred of the people discussing it.
Whilst my intellect grew, my fear, pain and anger were being buried beneath logical thinking and newborn reason, though still festering deep down, yet despite this marring continued to enhance my natural abilities. As time passed, I even tried opening up to my new guardian, to the best of my meagre social abilities in an attempt to further my development.
Around my eighth birthday Storyteller decided it necessary for me to begin taking martial arts to instil a different kind of discipline, a development which occurred in the wake of a particularly bad altercation with some teenagers unfortunate enough to tap into the malevolent spring of repressed negativity.
Thankfully Storyteller was old friends with a skilled Martial artist from a land to the northwest, a solitary domain that existed in the no man's land between the southern domains and the northern kingdoms. He had only wound up in our town by chance after failing some manner of task that was given to him in his youth, one where his failure apparently meant he couldn't return home.
He enlightened me to the full extent of my strength and durability first. In terms of raw power, I exceeded most adults regardless of how long they trained. despite his wariness of that and in contrast of how the other adults had acted, he didn't shun me, but rather he nurtured and guided me and with little time, I surpassed him, and that care remained, further warming me to no small degree.
Ever eager to learn from and test himself against the very child he had recently been teaching and testing, we trained often, and although I wish I could say I acted graciously and gave both him and Storyteller the respect they deserved for reining me in and the effort that entailed, I can't. Stubborn to the end, I remained full of hate and rage refusing to forgive those who never wronged me and justifying the ever-increasing wariness of the townspeople. As I said, I was beaten into someone strong, a process that remained beyond my ability to forgive.
I was able to recognise the importance of learning when to fight and when to stay my hand but being forced to live against my will within confines set by others was something I saw as an ill tasting necessity at best. My only desire was peace, but my soured opinion on life meant oblivion was the only kind of peace I was headed for.
Lesson 2
Only a Fool Casts Stones at Titans
At the age of ten, on the first day of Ledros, I went through the same revaluation everyone did, a custom which was abandoned by your time I shall elaborate for you.
At that point in history, sometime between the ages of seven and eight everyone awakened to their elevation, now known as their second nature, the enhancement to some skill or attribute and in others an entirely new talent manifested, and this was also the age when the gift of magic became apparent. Of course, there was also a chance that an entirely unique one would be granted.
At the time people were under the impression elevations were granted to us by the gods to help us on our fated path, a thought that made fact that I fall into the unique trait category, feel truly ironic since we were supposedly the most blessed.
The name of my elevation, Unity, and it was an insulting trait I thought for someone who had been shunned by most people and attacked by the rest. The only two people I had managed any feelings at all towards is the man who raised me, and the one who trained me, and I'm ashamed to admit even those were fleeting until much later. I was angry when I first felt the knowledge of it flow through me, it felt like some sarcastic mockery at my expense.
Less you have forgotten, unity gifts me primarily with the ability to see exactly how things interact, feel and what they may do. I could also see exactly how to resolve their conflicts if they were debating a matter with others; as well as see how others feel about me. That said, it was also the first unrecorded elevation to manifest in a millennium, so it was just another thing to isolate me.
Despite my feelings towards it, since I first gained unity, I had developed it in the two years leading up to my revaluation and had learned to even understand how things I can't physically see but know exist interact and behave. with that method I learned how to interact with magic and communicate with the formless entity.
My only blind spot was myself; I couldn't see how to solve my own conflicts with others, and I couldn't see what effect things had on myself. I got around this limitation by incorporating time itself into the equation and whilst I couldn't actually see the future, I could essentially bolster my instincts to a level as to where I knew the future.
In hindsight I should have realised sooner that as much as Master was widening the gap by training me, I was making things much worse than his training ever would. Experimenting with an ability was not something I had ever heard of or read about, but training under Master made me acutely aware of how important it is for one to understand and recognise the powers they have at their disposal and my powers originality made it entirely unrecognisable.
In spite of my experimentation, my revaluation would show me a very important blind spot, which in fairness was not something I could have tested, and in doing so reveal truths and machinations none of us expected.
Despite that fact, the morning of the ceremony was relatively normal starting as I gave up trying to get to sleep a couple of hours before sunrise and having some fruit and porridge before I made my way to Master's lodging for a brief practice.
when he had had enough, we returned to where I lived with Storyteller and they both had breakfast. I then got changed and we made our way to the hall of evaluation, where twice a year those who turned ten since the last ceremony six months prior were tested.
Hundreds of children from both the town I resided in, and the surrounding villages and Hamlets arrived at the revaluation centre checking room, some eager and excited, others distressed and nervous, I was as hollow and unfeeling as ever, even as I officially claimed my name which was a proud moment for others.
When the time came, I parted from Storyteller and Master making my way into the testing hall, where I took a position in a rear corner, near a wall lined with glass panels from floor to ceiling in case I decided to leave.
The atmosphere was thick, I could feel people's negativity towards me, literally able to read them like a book thanks to Unity. Fear, uncertainty, anxiety, outright hate, a poison cocktail for me to drown in and made no more palatable as I added my own anxiety and bitterness to the mix, I thought I was going to snap as unity continued to bombard me with the brutal truth of how others saw me, until finally my name was called for the first test.
A simple strength test using one handed weight, kids started at the lightest and lifted every weight, ranging from ten up to two hundred pounds, until they couldn't lift another. Almost always only those gifted with advanced combat elevations, able to lift the last. A test to see the children's aptitude for jobs involving things such as combat, manual labour, and exploration.
As I approached, I could tell the examiner hated me, no surprise since unity had told me he was the father of one of those teenagers who attacked me two years ago, and none of them escaped without injuries that would be impossible to heal with medicine or the average healer's magic. At least his hatred was somewhat justified, even if it was his own wretched son who initiated the conflict, I was aware he would likely prefer death over the punishment I awarded him.
When I moved toward the lightest weight, the stuffy, arrogant voice of the man stopped me. He barked at me to start with the heaviest before threatening to brand me as "worthless" once again, the word striking deeper than anyone, even I, could have known it would and causing me to visibly bristle as I briefly halted mid-step.
The children sniggered as children do, even outsiders from the outlying settlements, attention on the outcast's mistreatment making them feel more secure around the strangers. All of them were blissfully ignorant that the man's words were repeating through my mind as I redirected myself to the heaviest weight, and a sleeping monster had just been prodded.
I squatted ready to lift, but something snapped and left discipline falling away like mountain snow in an avalanche, I glared at the man who obliviously thought himself superior to me. A single glance to make the whole room silent, I felt powerful in a twisted sense as the mockery became fearful obedience to a wordless command.
After that, a rare thing happened, and I spoke publicly, if only to further goad him, practically begging him to give me an excuse to fight back "Whether I can or not, I don't think I'll be as worthless as what remains of your son." I then watched with twisted pride as the man's face twisted in anger and he began to storm toward me.
I didn't need unity to see his murderous intent, bloodlust poured from him, and I bared my teeth in delightful anticipation of educating him in regard to his place in the world. As soon as he had me within reach, he twisted his body back putting his all into a punch that would have undoubtedly been far beyond any normal child's ability to defend against, the man was a noble after all, and they usually had some kind of combat training from time served in military circles.
Yet whilst mine offered no such boon, I easily blocked his blow with one hand, gripping his fist gently, and immediately losing the desire to fight the man upon realising how one sided it would be. The idea quickly became equivalent to stepping on an ant to teach the colony its place and, in the same way, it wouldn't be long before the soldiers were sent out.
Instead, I simply leant down and lifting the weight with my free hand offered one final insult, my words dripping with venom. I sadistically enjoyed his reaction before returning to my position in the crowd, my usually inaudible footsteps echoing through the hall, children fighting the urge to flinch with every reverberation.
The other children repositioned to give me a wider berth after that but maintaining formation stretched as it now was, those closest sweating, flinching like rabbits not knowing what to do as a predator falls upon them.
Not that I would have admitted it to anyone, but as I stood there, I came to feel guilt and disgusted at my own sick satisfaction, so I joined my hands behind my head and turned to gaze out of the window. Staring at the sun and the purple light of the second moon Uros which hung in the sky simultaneously.
The next test was for magic proficiency, not only did it reveal if one could use magic, but what elements and also their ultimate potential for it. Though in this case potential isn't really a limiting factor, it merely demonstrates the complexity of spells one can cast. In other words, someone with high proficiency could learn to cast very complex skills, but it didn't determine how strong their casting would be, which means someone with low proficiency could develop their magic to overpower more complex spells from a weaker caster.
Now I don't know whether it was out of spite or simply trying to ignore my existence out of fear, he wasn't worth the use of unity in my opinion, but he tried to skip me. I casually reminded everyone that whether they liked it or not I did exist, and once more made my way to the front and stood before the measuring lacrima.
To be honest, I was quite surprised to find out that my magic proficiency was displayed as minimal, and strangely happy to feel normal in a small way. It also allowed the others to regain some peace of mind. After all I wasn't about to tell people I can communicate directly with Magic, which meant by simply asking it to do something it was usually quite happy to assist.
When I returned to my position the children were flinching less and had stopped sweating, I felt a bit relieved, a bit more tolerated, I even decided to start reading people as they were called, an immature use of unity to pass the time.
The third test was elevation appraisal to figure out who was like me. Though it had calmed considerably the mood was still tense though I could tell as I read those who approached the front.
"Child seventy-two!" The man called, numbers being given to those who had yet to take on their elevations name or choose one if they didn't possess a named elevation.
With the number called I turned listlessly to look at who had been called as the child the number belonged to emerged from the crowd the mirror position of where I stood in the back corner of the opposite side of the hall, but as I laid my eyes on them my blood curdled, feeling like I was looking at the worst version of myself, a being of selfish pleasure and hubris beyond measure.
I hadn't noticed it immediately, but unity was showing me something that I hadn't experienced before, an inability to read someone.
It wasn't telling me anything except that it was unable to read them and as far as unity was concerned; this person was an enigma and it wasn't just Unity, even my keen instincts couldn't make out anything, drowned out and dulled by that horrifying first impression.
It was as though this person itself had no will or intent of its own, a puppet or illusion. As they walked the aisle to kneel before the oracle, I couldn't take my eyes of them. As I said my instincts weren't telling me anything, nor was unity, my experience however made fear of the unknown an inevitability, after all the first lesson I learnt is that ignorance is the greatest threat there is to one's life.
As the anomaly knelt before the oracle, her elevation was displayed, the tension in the room was neutralised for everyone, and yet the tension I now felt multiplied to exceed it.
"The Divine Hand" a direct agent of the gods, such an elevation had never once been inherited by a person in this town. So, why? It seemed far too momentous to be mere coincidence, I survived despite the world, and now this. As the puppet stood, anxiety and uncertainty gave paranoid fear room to take root, leading me to ponder and anguish of imaginary threats and futures.
My anxiety was growing, I even flinched when my name was called, to everyone else's surprise and delight. Making my way to the oracle, I eyed the divine hand cautiously.
My hands were clammy, and my chest was tight. I wondered why I was having such a strong reaction when they hadn't even looked at me with any kind of purpose or intent, yet it felt like they had a blade to my throat already. I knelt at the divining lacrima, and I assume unity was displayed, but I honestly don't remember it, or the rest of the revaluation.
When the final child was tested, we were released and I made my way out as quickly as possible, Master and my guardian were both waiting in the place my vile parents should have been, but I sprinted past them, noting it only as another reason to hate my life, but at the same time too scared to care or stop even as Master attempted to collar me.
My efforts to flee were stalled before I even made it outside though as I felt eyes upon me and my breathing became shallow and rapid, hyperventilating, and overwhelmed, I felt the world close in and fade to black.