Elias flung the headset aside and made his way out of his room, slamming the door behind him. The sound of the latch downstairs unlocking and his father drunkenly singing carried up the stairs, blending with Elias' determined footsteps. Lydia leapt through the doorway of the master bedroom and followed her son. "Elias, I'm begging you, just leave him alone.", she pleaded. He ignored her and pounded over the transition at the bottom of the flight
Rudeus gave the wooden door behind him a heavy smack, and sent it flying shut. The boom of the slam was loud enough to mask the sound of the latch engaging. He didn't bother to lock the deadbolt, opting instead to noisily empty his pockets onto the living room table, then head for the stairs.
Elias met him halfway and tried to stand firm, but a rough shove knocked him onto his haunches. The boy sprang up from the carpet and screamed at his father. "Get back here, you coward! I'm not done with you!" He stormed up the stairs after the man, shouting the whole way. "What right do you think you have to just waltz in here after all of that?!" Elias' tyrade elicited no response. "Answer me!", he screeched, then slapped his father's neck at the top of the stairs. The force of the blow rocked Rudeus on his feet just a bit, but he didn't jump or yelp. Instead, he turned slowly to face his son, one step below him at the threshold. Without a word, he executed a nearly flawless roundhouse kick, and sent Elias flying to the bottom of the stairs.
The wind thoroughly smashed from his lungs, Elias coughed and choked as he shook away his blurry vision and rose slowly to his feet. Unable to speak, he tried to take a step and fell into the wall. As he collected himself, his mother flew by him. She joined Rudeus at the top of the stairs, and began her hurried attempt to placate his rage. Elias knew that she was just trying to protect both of them, but his anger exploded when she accepted a kiss that smelled like whiskey and began walking back to their bedroom with him.
By the time Elias collected himself and made it to the top of the stairs, the master bedroom was already securely locked. The nightgown his mother had been wearing was abandoned in front of the door, likely as a taunt. Elias' anger took on a new texture, cooling and yet burning, as he took a second to think through what was going on and what his next actions should be. He wondered if Lydia still loved Rudeus, or if she was merely trying to distract him from attacking again. Elias decided it was best not to anger the man any further; his mother was in a vulnerable state, and she was far weaker than him. With her in close quarters, starting a fight with him would surely mean that she could be hurt. Naked and in his grasp, she would be hard pressed to find a way to escape or go get help. If she stopped to dress, she would be painting a target on the back of her nightgown. If she left the house naked, she could end up facing legal trouble and scorn from the community.
Elias' fury cooled further. It burned like acid in his brain, but he had beaten down the worst of it with cold logic. To break down the door and storm in on his father having his way with Lydia would make a bad situation worse, and in his current state, achy and short of breath from his fall down the stairs, Elias had no hope of beating his father in a one-on-one fist fight. Involving a weapon would further endanger everybody involved, and if he managed to wound or kill his father, the police would enter the picture. In the best-case scenario, Rudeus would end up dead or in jail, and Elias would be forced to part with his mother when she needed him most. He likely wouldn't be able to finish the Blaze of Souls tournament, which meant that she wouldn't be able to receive the experimental treatment, and would likely be doomed. Neither course of action would do much good. At this juncture, Elias could either instigate a needless conflict that could have unforseen consequences, or he could go to bed and see how things played out in the morning. After a second, he sighed, cursing his weakness, and shuffled back to his own bedroom.
Elias placed his VR headset carefully into its cradle and sunk beneath the covers. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind, but sweet oblivion eluded him. His thoughts wouldn't stop racing. His brain was a chaotic realm all its own right now, without enough breathing room to allow Elias to find the peace required to sink into the restful sleep he knew he would need in both the real world and the game. As his thoughts swam, Elias felt a few tears escape and roll down his cheeks. He sprang up at once, deciding it would be better to stay up late than to lay here and feel sorry for himself. The headset all but sprang out of the cradle, and settled comfortably on Elias' face.
EmoryEdge gazes around at the clearing. Here, where an opponent he should have taken down has made a clean getaway, he curses himself again. A few players gathering materials at the edges of the meadow see him rise to his feet. All but one of them makes themselves scarce in short order, but one continues cutting herb stalks.
The tall man slices the herbs gracefully with his glowing katana, and the flourish of energy from the weapon gives him away as a spellsword. With enchanted sword attacks and unknown magic and tools all laid out before him as possible obstacles in the battle, EmoryEdge takes a moment to decide whether he wants to fight this player at the moment. His battle with PartyPistol has left him with few incendiary knives, and less technical points than he would like. He considers topping up with a potion, but the stranger's deep voice stops his thoughts in their tracks.
"I don't want to fight today.", his voice booms across the open field. "We will battle later, and it will be epic, but right now, I'd like to gather materials." EmoryEdge begins walking toward him. "Fine by me, stranger.", he calls. With no intention of a surprise attack, EmoryEdge pulls out one of his knives and joins the player in harvesting lavender. The man's long black hair curtains a stern face with sharp features. Below the shock of obsidian, EmoryEdge sees that the man's blue robe is coated with a shimmering layer of moving lights. The enchanted garment all but confirms EmoryEdge's suspicion that the player is a spellsword, and an experienced magic user. The player name, Vorpal_Wind, underscores this. At a glance, Vorpal_Wind sizes up EmoryEdge.
"I've heard quite a lot about you, lad.", he sighs as he unleashes a powerful slash, upending dozens of plants. "Many think that you've got what it takes to walk away with the top prize." EmoryEdge nods, felling three plants with a stroke of his knife. "I hope they're right.", he says curtly, "I've got a lot riding on this win." With another measured slice, five more lavender buds fall, and he gathers them up. They dissolve in his hands, entering his inventory storage. With lavender being a key ingredient in his own arsenal, being the centerpoint of both his incendiary and poison knife augments, he figures that the stranger is gathering the lavender for some kind of potion having to do with one of those. A sleep potion is also a possibility. As the two chat, he continues taking notes on his future opponent.
"Care to talk about it, kid?", Vorpal_Wind says softly, his warm voice inviting EmoryEdge to spill forth his motivations and feelings. The boy nods. "I don't see the harm. A lot of this information will end up being public in the end, anyway." The pair attack a large bunch together, and a bushel of lavender springs into the air, raining down like purple confetti. "My mother has early onset Alzheimer's disease," EmoryEdge begins. "My wife, too.", Vorpal_Wind cuts in. EmoryEdge feels emboldened by his admission, seeing him as a kindred soul of sorts. "There's an experimental treatment that we can't afford, and as things are right now, she's doomed. My father... Well, don't get me started on that guy. Suffice it to say, he's not gonna help." Vorpal_Wind nods and issues a "Hm." The air between the two changes, and they both stand straight, facing one another. "My wife's case is mostly under control, and we're both in our thirties. She'll likely live well past sixty, continuing the treatment we've got now." The man points his blade at EmoryEdge. Shocked, the boy leaps backward, leveling his hook in one hand and a cluster of knives in the other. "I thought you said you didn't want to fight today!", he stammers. Vorpal_Wind smiles warmly at him. "I'm not giving up my shot at this prize for somebody who won't make it to the end. Show me your resolve, and I'll render you all the aid I can." The two lock eyes, and the battle is on.
EmoryEdge looses two quick blades, but Vorpal_Wind sees through his attempt to throw him off. "Do better, kid.", he breathes. A fizzle of blue energy makes a streaking arc, and the knives are struck down. Vorpal_Wind isn't surprised to see EmoryEdge coming at him, and his sword changes to an angry red hue as he bears down on the boy. Knife meets sword, and a violent explosion throws EmoryEdge backward. He flips up and lands on his feet with practiced grace, sticking the landing perfectly and renewing his attack. His hook and three more knives make their way across the divide, and an arc of red energy precludes the explosion that brings down all four objects. After a second, the knife by Vorpal_Wind's feet explodes, throwing the man to the ground.
"Now you're using your head!", he spits as he whirls and rights himself. Even as he falls back into his stance, however, EmoryEdge's hook is working its way around the back of his left leg. He crashes to his back, then is taken by EmoryEdge's irresistible strength. He whips through the air like a ragdoll, whiffing a lightning spell as he flies overhead. EmoryEdge chooses just the right moment to retract his hook, and the man is sent spinning into the air, a gash left in his robe where the hook passed on its way back to its master. Churning like a tornado in a desperate attempt to find his bearings, Vorpal_Wind is taken in the gut by a trio of exploding knives. The explosion rocks his senses, turning his vision into a wall of white and his hearing into a high-pitched hiss. He feels the ground slam into his side, and the hook is upon him again.
EmoryEdge whips Vorpal_Wind into the air again, but this time, he doesn't let him go. Instead, the hook and its chain wrap a nearby tree, pinning him. The impact, combined with his lack of orientation, drives his katana into the tree, rendering it useless even if he had a free hand to swing it. As his vision clears and his hearing returns, he finds himself immobilized. The hook is buried firmly into the wood, and Vorpal_Wind has not paid nearly enough points into his strength stat to break free. A knife embeds itself in the wood next to his head with a flash of silver and a keening woosh.
EmoryEdge strides slowly to the tree. "Impressed, old timer?", he says eagerly. Vorpal_Wind nods. "You took diligent study of my battle patterns and exploited what you thought were my weaknesses. You were right in this case. Your instinct serves you well." The hook releases from the tree and winds itself back into EmoryEdge's hand. Vorpal_Wind peels himself from the bark and gathers his sword.
Freed, Vorpal_Wind extends a hand. EmoryEdge takes it and gives a grateful shake. "You'll make a powerful ally, that's for sure.", he says curtly. Vorpal_Wind gives him a charming smile. "That's the idea.", the older man says brightly. "We can share resources and fight together to make it through the riffraff. Once we're in the top 10, I'll fight as hard as I can to help you make it to the top." EmoryEdge nods, smiling back. The older man finally withdraws his pale hand, and the two go back to gathering herbs.
A long silence between the two, punctuated by animals' keening cries and the wind whipping about, is surprisingly comfortable. "So," Vorpal_Wind says at last, "Let's hear your story, kid. You seem like you've got a rock on your chest." A flash of blue fells a few stalks of lavender, then Vorpal_Wind turns his attention to the red demeter blossoms in a nearby clearing. A burst of fire magic makes them bloom, then he slashes widely at them and lays his claim. Still harvesting lavender with his knives, EmoryEdge calls over his shoulder, "You could say that." The boy joins his new ally in the clearing, content to bend down and take the unbloomed flowers as they are. In their current form, they'll make a potent additive to explosive and incendiary augments. On a shaky breath, he begins. "My mom's case is a bad one. She's already outlived the doctors' expectations."
"Tell me about your piece-of-shit dad.", Vorpal_Wind says between red slashes, activating and felling the flowers in one slick motion. Impressed, EmoryEdge settles into a spot to watch his new friend work. "He used to be a caring father, you know.", he begins. "The type that would sit you on his lap and tell you fantastic stories, the type that would come through the door from work, exhausted and dirty, and make his first priority finding you to give you a hug and some odd treasure he recovered from his job site." Vorpal_Wind nods curtly. "When did he change?", the older man spits with a grimace as he swings his glowing sword. A gout of flame eruptes and takes a wide arc, along with a sliver of energy. The sliver hisses, then throws off a powerful shockwave as it explodes. Demeter blossoms in full bloom rain down upon the two, vanishing into their inventories as they touch the fighters. "When Mom got her diagnosis.", EmoryEdge sighs, "It was three years ago, but it seems like forever. He started drinking, became abusive, and seemed to just... well, he seemed to stop caring."
EmoryEdge feels like he has to match Vorpal_Wind's performance, punctuating their conversation to help it along. "My dad and me have been fighting a lot. He thinks the tournament is stupid, thinks I won't be able to win." Vorpal_Wind pauses in his work to smile at the younger player. "He's the one who's stupid.", the older man says with a grunt as he gets back to slicing up flowers, "You've definitely got what it takes to win. I saw that for myself." EmoryEdge returns his smile and draws out his hook. It swings wide and brisk, then coils into itself and returns to him, snapping up demeter buds along the way. "Tell me.", Vorpal_Wind calls, loosing another explosive cut, "Have you kicked his ass? You talk like a kid who's old enough to wallop their old man." EmoryEdge can't help but laugh. "There'd be no point in that.", he says, eyes downcast. "It wouldn't make him listen, and there would be consequences for wounding or killing him that would put my mom in danger."
Vorpal_Wind shoots the younger player a sidelong look. "If you're willing to kill him, he must have done something horrible. Maybe even unforgivable." EmoryEdge nods. "Yeah... he did." The boy's voice quiets to a near-whisper. "He started hitting her, and me. I can fight back, but not her. What's worse, he likes to... well, they have a sex life, as adults do, but I'm not so sure mom's willing." Vorpal_Wind slides his sword back into its sheath with a dull grating sound, indicating it could use some oil. "So, he's raping her. And beating both of you. Why not get the police involved?" EmoryEdge shakes his head slowly. "Out of the question.", he spits, along with a curse. "That would mean a custody battle and divorce proceedings. My mom is disabled, so there's pretty much no way she'd win custody of me unless I could prove that dad's getting physical. Bruises can come from anywhere, and he's a great liar."
"Then find some proof of something, anything.", the older player sighs. "The main concern is getting you and your mom away from him." EmoryEdge nods curtly. "That would be nice, but I don't see any quick way to do it.", he breathes, resigned. "Besides, once I win this thing and Mom is better, she'll see how much of a bum Dad really is and figure out that we don't need him." Vorpal_Wind sits and begins crafting serums from the flowers he's harvested, prompting EmoryEdge to do the same. "One can only hope...", he tells the younger player.