Deodeky's face split into an adorable grin as she eyed Fate like a cash cow.
"What of it?" she asked excitedly. "What of it? That's extremely rare! The whole reason the snobbier nobles ramble on about 'bloodline purity' is because blood is what gives us our Facets!"
"Besides the Power Facets, all Facets come from our ancestors," Ventraga explained. "A commoner that has no noble blood and yet still birthed a non-Power Facet is extremely rare. Ordinary humans like you and I need an ancestor from one of the Nine Races to even hope to get a Facet that isn't from the Power category."
"Nine Races?" Fate asked.
"They're where all of the other Facets come from. The dragons are one of their descendants, as are the kitsubi, the imps, the goblins, the aesh… every creature in Ziobrun, really."
"Humans are the descendants of one of these Nine Races as well," Tresbeney chimed. "According to the theories, anyway. It's estimated that we'd need someone beyond the Arch-Mage Stage to confirm it."
"Enough about that! What's important is that Fate is a commoner with distant noble blood!" Deodeky squealed excitedly, clenching the paper in her hand. Fate noticed the ink start to run from her sweat. "This is a gold mine! You're truly one in a hundred!"
"With how much you've been talking it up, I'm only one in a hundred?" Fate wondered.
"It's rare, but not uncommon," Semenda explained. "Many commoners have noble ancestors that lost their status in one way or another. It's even theorized that nearly every human has some of the blood of the Nine Races flowing through them."
"Enough. We need to get back on track! The viewers must be tired of these explanations," Deodeky said with a wave of her hand. Semenda grumbled and crossed her arms angrily.
"What do you mean?" Fate asked her. "I thought this was going on the Magiweb tonight? Can't you remove that part?"
"…"
"Deodeky?"
"It's live," she admitted sheepishly. She avoided his gaze, grabbing her water bottle and taking a large swig to hide from his questioning eyes.
"Live? What does that mean?" The crystal ball certainly didn't LOOK alive. Maybe it was meant in a different way?
"It means that people are watching this right now, in real time," Ventraga said from behind him timidly. "I thought she told you."
"So people have heard every word I've said so far already?"
"About thirty thousand, yes."
Good thing he kept his mouth shut… for the most part. "Let's just get this over with."
Deodeky shut off her crystal ball. Fate massaged his temples with the heels of his palms as he tried to stave off the coming headache. Ever question after that moment had been about his life in the village, how he ate, where he worked, what he did for fun.
It was annoyingly difficult to answer in a way that didn't reveal his shitty life back then, while also not lying, as the smaller crystal ball would detect it in a heartbeat. He managed to keep that life private for the most part, however, at no small cost to his brain.
Coming up with words to say was never his strong suit. In Brergan, it was a useless skill, something that no one bothered with. The village never needed a leader because each one gladly did their part in times of crisis.
The imp and goblin attacks were the only times the townspeople didn't treat him like a freak.
Really, they welcomed him during those times. His trained physique and active imagination when it came to possible fight scenarios made him one of the most vital fighters. Nearly every person in Brergan had access to pitchforks, so how could Fate not try his best to prepare for the inevitable day some asshole bully brandished one against him?
Luckily for him, that was all the imp children ever seemed to use, stolen in the middle of the night from inattentive farmers. There were many attacks where Brergan farmers would find their own tools, gone missing several months prior, among the fallen imps.
The imps always went for the women on sight, heedless of even the men swinging shovels and machetes their way. Many of the Brergan girls owed Fate their lives for saving them during these moments, not that they cared. And he didn't mind keeping his mouth shut about it either, as they always returned the favor.
The farmers and merchants did their best to save him from a particularly nasty imp, and he did the same for them. It was that simple.
He heaved a light sigh as he stood, stretching his limbs and rolling his shoulders as he tried to work the stiffness out of his limbs. He was still sore from the fetal position Alessandra had reduced him to, even four or so hours later.
As he shook his leg in an attempt to wake it, Ventraga eyed the brown robes dangling on Fate's wiry frame.
With a raised eyebrow, he asked, "When did you become a Journeyman?"
"Earlier today," Fate said offhandedly.
"Wait, what?!" Deodeky's eyes snapped up from the recording she was checking – she wanted to post it later in an edited form – and they widened as she noticed his brown garments.
"Venty, why didn't you say something sooner?"
"I didn't notice until now," the brother said defensively.
"You didn't notice the robes that indicated he advanced Stages from Apprentice to Journeyman in less than a week?" Semenda said skeptically.
"Yeah, well, neither did you!"
As Fate turned to leave, a blur calmed before him into the form of Tresbeney. She smiled up at him nicely, batting her eyelashes. Her actions could do little to disguise the greed in her gaze, though.
"Please, Mr. Fate, will you answer some more questions for us? This be what it takes to make us an official news club!"
"Nope, sorry. All interview'd out." With a surge of Mana, he stepped through her and ran through the closed door, booking it down the hallway as the four siblings scrambled to chase after him.