A baptism through fire, a trial by flame...I think the world sees this as my only way to shed my skin, at this point, I will need to bathe in the core of the sun to become whatever fate desires from me.
In a combination of the blaring sunlight pelting against his resting eyelids and his bedroom door being kicked open, he shot up awake.
"Who-- what-- where?" Ren sat up quickly, wiping the drool from the side of his mouth.
Standing in the doorway, the unreadable Tristan stood, carrying a sack over his shoulder before tossing it on the bedroom floor. From the metallic clang resonating from the pale sack, it definitely had something to do with weaponry.
"Get suited up, meet me outside in ten," Tristan began to walk away before stopping, "oh, and take this."
The man tossed a piece of bread directly onto Ren's lap, who was still half-asleep. He sat there for a good minute, staring blankly at the wall as his brain booted up.
"What?" He said out loud in confusion long after the man had already walked away.
Dumping the contents of the sack out onto the floor--it contained a full set of a leather-metal armor combination. As he slid the black long-sleeve shirt and pants on to go under the armor, he found himself fiddling with the plethora of leather traps to attach the armor.
"Come on...why is this so hard--?" He complained, tightening the straps.
Once it was all said and done, the armor felt light, somehow giving him a feeling of swiftness greater than without the armor that should be encumbering him. Standing in front of the full-body mirror in his room, he made a variety of embarrassing poses, enamored in his new look. Running his leather-gloved hand through his jet black hair, he gave his best impression of a playboy smile to the mirror.
"I totally look like the main character of an RPG, setting out for my journey~" He smiled wickedly as he flexed his almost non-existent biceps in the mirror.
For once, he actually looked somewhat professional--or at least had a coherent outfit. Catching his eye--he found a leather sheath still sitting in the sack. Grabbing the black-wrapped handle and sliding the weapon out, he revealed a pristine short sword.
"Looks...basic," Ren slid the blade back into the sheath.
Even if it seemed fairly useless to the untrained NEET, he attached the sheath to his belt. Clearly hitting the ten-minute mark given to him by Tristan, he nearly slid down the stairs before launching himself outside.
The morning breeze caressed his skin as he stepped outside. It was a hard sight to not find yourself enamored in--the titan rays flying through the foggy air in tranquility as the sunlight peeked through the unorthodox clouds of gray.
"Thought you might've fallen back asleep. I would've had to pistol-whip you," Tristan said without turning around, gazing up at the sun shrouded by the looming fog.
"No, I'm fine, thank you for your conc- pistol whip me--? I was struggling to put on the armor that you didn't even bother explaining anything about!" Ren yelled out.
"Hey, if you don't want your armor, be my guest--let's see how long you last without it," Tristan turned back to face him.
He gulped, shrinking behind the amethyst gaze that seemed to judge him internally. It was impossible to get a read on the snow-haired man--whether he was upset or calm, it seemed to be the same emotion displayed for him.
"No, sir, thanks for the armor," Ren nodded his head in total compliance.
"Don't thank me, I didn't make it. Beatrice did--which, by the way, thanks for not sending her my apologies," Tristan turned back around.
"What are you, a middle-schooler--? I'm the wrong guy to go to as a proxy for talking to girls, man," Ren adjusted the itchy collar of the leather under his metallic armor, "so, what are we doing anyways?"
Tristan scratched his head and let out a sigh as if explaining was an exhaustive activity for him.
"We're going to track down and eliminate a problematic tribe of goblins. They've been stealing our crops and livestock--so we're going to show them why that was a mistake," Tristan adjusted his silver coat.
As the man extended his hand, his jet black magnum conjured out of thin air. It was the same gun he saw the man with yesterday--the mana resonating from it gave a completely different vibe from the grandiose flames of ken. It was a solemn darkness, shrouded in an enigma that screamed of unknown depths of power.
He wanted to ask about the gun but decided it was a question left for after he gathered an understanding of the mission ahead.
"One question...make that two--one, where do we even have livestock and crops for them to steal? Two, how do we get down from here?" Ren was more focused on that second question.
"That's right, you can't use magic yet, can you? What a pain in the ass," Tristan let out an exaggerated sigh.
It was hard to look forward to any type of adventure that involved someone who seemed annoyed by your very existence. Especially someone who brandished a magical gun.
--Yeah, that last part is what scares me!
"Can't we just have Delilah give us a lift?" Ren asked as he felt the high-altitude winds pelt against his wobbling legs.
"Hah? Hell no. That demonic thing hates my guts, last time I tried to ride her, she ate up my coat," Tristan seemed genuinely saddened by the loss of that coat.
Now that he was put in this situation, he realized something both wildly important and terrifying--he was practically a prisoner up here as there was no feasible way for him to get down.
"There is only one way…" Tristan spoke quietly in a dire tone.
"Yeah…?" Ren gulped.
He watched as the man knelt down with his back shown to him. As he realized what the man had in mind, he slowly began to shake his head as he backed away slowly.
"No--I may be weak, cowardly, and overall a terrible human being...but I still have my pride as a man!" Ren swung his arm against the air.
"Listen, Beatrice will kick both our asses if we don't hurry our asses up, you got that? You don't understand the wrath of that woman," Tristan seemed genuinely scared of the woman, "she...knows a man's weakness."
Tristan shuddered as he reminisced on what seemed to be unfavorable memories. Seeing his fear pushed Ren closer into accepting this undesirable arrangement. At eighteen years old, he never foresaw himself being given a piggy-back ride by another grown man.
--I would've accepted this from a tall, hot babe--but this?
He slapped his cheeks to steel his resolve, looking upon the man's back. Looking side to side, up and down--if he was going to do this, he was making sure nobody was watching.
"Hurry up already! Would you rather me carry you like a damn princess?" Tristan scoffed.
"N-no--!" Ren shook his head.
Hesitantly, with a mind full of shame--he held onto the man's shoulders before propping himself onto his back. Before he could even get comfortable or even a reliable grip for that matter--Tristan leaped from the colossal tree.
"Ah---!" Ren's yell carried out into the clouds above.
Instinctually, his arms wrapped around the man's neck for maximum security as he continued to yell out with his eyes tightly shut.
"Quiet down, will you--? You're giving me a damn headache!" Tristan barked with a pained look on his face.
"Calm down? You calm down!" Ren retorted, encumbered by absolute fear.
"I'm about one second away from tossing you," Tristan muttered, "Loosen your grip on my neck would you--? It's getting hard to breathe!"
Ren found it irrational to ask him to even consider calming down in this situation. The "tree-base" they lived on neighbored the fluffy clouds that hung just below the heavens, and here he was--falling from that terrible height. Even in a world full of wonderfully powerful magical beings, his instincts didn't recognize that fact, neither did he, losing all logic in this unconventional act of skydiving.
He wasn't exactly savvy when it came to physics, but even he knew that at the speed he was falling or "traveling", he should be in pain, or at the very least--unable to control his body. That's when he noticed the nearly transparent blue barrier surrounding him and Tristan.
As he narrowed his eyes to inspect the barrier, it felt as if his stomach attempted to fly from his mouth as they crashed to the ground like a meteor. Trying to gather his motor functions once more, he was interrupted by the man grabbing his arm and tossing him down.
"The hell was that for?" Ren stammered out, trying to persuade the air to stay in his lungs.
"Just get up already,"
"Maybe don't throw me onto the ground then--!" Ren stood up, sweeping the dirt off of his clean armor.
It was his first time at ground-level in the Valley, he felt almost trapped in by the countless trees that covered the land. The leaves acted like an emerald sky, limbs of the endless trees coiling around each other, blocking most sunlight from seeping in as the forest remained dim.
"Stay close--or don't. Doesn't matter to me," Tristan fixed his coat before adjusting his ash gloves.
"Make up your mind!" Ren shouted.
He quickly regretted yelling as he heard the thick bushes that made up almost the entirety of his surroundings rattle, keeping himself close to Tristan.
"I'm going to trust you to watch my back, alright?" Tristan began to inspect the ground, spreading the blades of grass that blanketed the dirt.
"What do you expect me to do if something does actually show up--?" Ren watched the man carefully analyze the dirt.
"You've got a sword, use it."
"Easy to say when you've got a gun. What's that about anyways? How the hell did you get a gun in a world of blades and magic?" Ren found the opportunity to ask about the subject that had been plaguing his mind.
Tristan raised his gaze from the patch of dirt as the magnum conjured in his hand once again, spinning it around his index finger.
"You mean this bad boy here? It's my innate ability--"Purgatory Arms" is what I've named it," He ran his fingers across the stainless steel, caressing the designs etched into the side of the barrel.
"This is probably going to sound dumb, but what the hell is an "innate ability" anyways? I think Sora mentioned that when I asked about his armor," Ren knelt down beside the man, getting a closer look at the magical gun.
"I'd say less dumb and more so ignorant, innate abilities are rare in this world so it's probably not something you would've heard about. Well, otherworlders like us are all guaranteed to have an innate ability--so it's pretty common for us," Tristan whisked the gun away as it faded into a mist of black mana.
That last statement hit Ren like an arrow of Cupid directly to the heart. This entire time he has loathed his apparent lack of abilities in this world--watching those around him perform mystical feats that were only prospects of fiction on Earth. Now, he was being told he had an "innate ability" of his own?
"So, I have an innate ability as well--? Wait, wait--so what are these abilities exactly? Are they all weapon-based, like how Sora has his giant sword and halberd, while you have a gun?" A glimmer of excitement illuminated his irises as he asked like a child driven by wonder.
"Don't get so giddy. An innate ability is something completely unique to the user--it can be a weapon, armor, authority over concepts--point is, an innate ability can manifest in the form of just about anything. It's impossible to tell what you're going to get, really," Tristan answered.
His words were meant to ground the boy's expectations into reality, but the childlike wonder in his eyes didn't stop shining in the slightest. The forest seemed to breathe around them as the trees swayed from the passing winds, the howls of those dwelling in this land rang through the valley devoid of humans.
"I know what you're going to ask--forget it. You've distracted me enough, we've got a mission to uphold. Keep your eyes on the trees--stay vigilant," Tristan pointed up, gesturing for him to return to his duty.
It felt as if he had just barely missed a home run--so close to figuring out what his innate ability might be, but he knew Tristan was a stubborn one, and definitely wasn't going to let himself be persuaded.
"What're you looking for anyways?"
"Goblin tracks," Tristan answered.
"I see...so what am I supposed to be watching out for anyways?" Ren kept his eyes on the treeline.
Outside of the small patch of land, they were occupying, for the time being, they were surrounded by the thick, overbearing forest that seemed to be watching them from every angle.
"Anything that shows itself,"
"Thanks. Totally not vague at all," Ren let out a quiet sigh.
A dozen minutes passed without anything directly showing itself, only the sound of enigmatic creatures scurrying through the dense forest bordering them. His patience was beginning to wear thin as he watched the man slowly and methodically inspect every inch of the acre. Tristan ran the palm of his hand against the bark of one of the trees, leaning close enough to take in the pine resonating from the tree.