And so, time passed.
It always does, whether that be for the good or bad of everybody. The only thing that mattered was that we moved on, and learn for what lay ahead.
Lieren sat with his legs crossed on top of a boulder twice his own size, meditating to return the mana he had spent during his Aegis' "training drill."
With a heavy sigh, he released his inner focus, sweat drenching his entire body, sticking his shirt to his back and soaking his face. It had been two days since then, but he still had not recovered much of his mana. Because of his Resistance, mana cannot penetrate his body, making it difficult to absorb. Normal mages did not have this problem, as mana naturally seep into their body, allowing them to naturally absorb mana into their own bodies with ease. This was one of Lieren's biggest weaknesses, the one thing that outweighed all the other benefits that his Resistance had granted him.
'Well, it's not like I can do anything about.'
You cannot win at everything, and everything cannot always be won. While it had the same thought and lesson behind it, there was a clear distinction between the two:
Life is not fair, and so you do no have to play fair.
Taking a deep breath and diving within himself, Lieren stretched his mind again, erasing everything around him and focusing only on one thing; his Resistance.
Like opening a seam, or perhaps stretching a net, he let the aura expand, creating small grid-like spaces to allow mana to pass through and be absorbed by his body. This process was highly difficult, as it required his intent attention, as well as meticulous care and concentration that ultimately resulted in what he eyeballed as a tenth of what normal mages would be able to absorb by simply staying idle and not consuming mana.
Though it seemed futile, considering his unique circumstances, Lieren strived to improve upon this weakness. He just had to take it one step at a time.
Sooner rather than later, and the boy fell to his side, knocked out by his own recklessness.
◇◆◇◆◇
Red looked at Lieren like he was idiot.
"You're an idiot." She said harshly.
"…Yes, ma'am." He admitted readily.
'It's better this way.'
"Good. So you do know." She doused a piece of cloth with cold water and placed it atop Lieren's forehead.
'Sooooo~ cold.'
The wet cloth cooled his burning head down somewhat. He could almost hear the heat being mitigated and turned into nothing. Actually, everything felt hot. Even his body and arms and legs.
"W-what happened…?" He asked meekly.
It was very hard to move, as if his entire body was chained down to a concrete floor.
Red picked up the basin filled with water. Judging by the fact the stains on her arms and rolled up sleeves, it had been some time since Lieren passed out.
She shot him a judging glare, though it was not all malicious.
"You passed out from exhaustion. Probably from overexerting yourself… again. You have a mild fever, but you should be fine—if you behave, that is. Everybody expected it would happen sooner rather than later. I mean, it's like you have some kind of death wish or something."
Lieren glanced at Red.
"…Everybody?" He said, his voice growing weak.
It was growing more and more difficult to keep his eyes open, almost like a divine force was pulling on his eyelids.
She simply walked away, muttering her response as an afterthought.
"Yes, everybody."
Light seemed to disappear entirely as his eyes shut close from exhaustion.
◇◆◇◆◇
Everything was dark and somber as the night swallowed the world, drowning it in shadows and darkness, providing a small hope with the limited light that it offered.
Lieren stared at the small seam by which the barest amounts of moonlight passed through, illuminating the enchanted forest of Karan with as much light as it could provide. It was beautiful, somewhat poetic, and very lonely.
He was laying on his bedroll with wide-open eyes and an awoken mind. He had just woken up.
Upon doing so, he noticed that his fever was gone. The furious heat and fatigue that it brought him, as well as the invisible weights that kept him immobile, had gone like the wind. It was gone and away, which left him with only the most troublesome of thoughts.
'Why am I like this?'
Again, he had cause trouble for somebody. Again, his actions have angered somebody. Again, he lay on a bed, whishing that it was all a dream. Again… he was alone. Once again, he felt crestfallen and conflicted.
There was too much, way too much. Everybody seemed so mature, even the girl the same age as him acted like an adult. With wisdom and a firm attitude, which she showed only to him, she carried herself proudly, and kept herself protected.
It was as if the world had betrayed him.
Lieren stood up from his bed and gritted his teeth and began walking away from his bedroll. He did not have a destination in mind, but that did not stop him.
There was so much to do, so much to say, and so much to be said. This was not one of them.
Once again burying everything: his life, his character, and even his memories—her memories, he walked away from it all. He was never wanted, but he was always bound to be tied down.
He hated that so much that he would rather die that let it continue for even a second longer.
Suddenly, he remembered her; Lieren's mother. Not the one she was traveling to meet, but the woman who had given birth to him, but had not given him a life.
She was… neurotic, in a way. For her, and only her, was the world allowed to revolve around. Everything moved in place for her and her alone. She killed all in her way, she ripped apart all that mistreated her, and punished all that would disobey her, without any exceptions. Which included, of course, her very own son. Who, according to her, was no more than an accessory to carry around. Less than a servant, but slightly more than garbage, she would always say. And, at the time, Lieren really could not tell the difference.
His father was not there either, so there really was nobody that could tell him otherwise what was right and wrong.
He admitted that, even after all the abuse, all the beatings, all the sermons and complaints, that he loved her mother. Of course, that did not necessarily mean that he did not hate her. In fact, it was the opposite.
Lieren hated his mother even more than Barett, the woman who had destroyed his life.
This thought alone wrecked the poor boy's mind.
If he hated the woman who had given birth to him, the person who refused him to have a life, then what was the emotion he felt for the woman who had killed everybody he has ever loved, and destroyed his life, as well as the first girl he has ever loved truly, from the bottom of his heart.
This internal discourse brought him just on the very edge of insanity. Sometimes, he even wished to end it all, just for the sake of clarity. If everything disappears when you are gone, then maybe he would not feel so heartbroken, devastated, and utterly crushed constantly.
"Life doesn't matter, it's what its filled with that does. And in my case, it is nothing but baggage, suffering, and personal conflict… Man, my life sucks."
The wind did not respond, nor care, for his personal throes. It was both caring and impassive that way, a quality that he wished for the most.
Rustling came from the wind, and with it a chill that shook the boy's poor bones. Glaring, he whipped around and searched for the source of the chilly intent.
The enchanted tree's bark suddenly exploded under his gaze, eliciting the figure behind the tree to jump out of the way with feline-like flexibility.
"Whoa there! Damn, that was close." The figure looked at Lieren with a relaxed smile. "You almost had me there, you little rascal."
Lieren blinked, dumbfounded.
"…Harita? What are you doing here?"
"I could say the same to you." He walked over casually, his gait swaying here and there. His face was somewhat red, and his breath reeked of alcohol.
'He's been drinking.'
"I was just… thinking. Trying to clear my head and all." Lieren lowered his head in resignation.
He could not stand lying anymore.
Harita simply raised a brow, his face a mask of criticism.
Lieren only knitted his in return.
"…What? You have a problem with that?" His voice came out much more aggressively than he thought, and covered his mouth with his hands.
"I-I wasn't… It's not like t-tha—" Harita's pat on his shoulder shut the blundering boy up.
His face looked… lonely, grieving, and tired. Almost s if he had just seen and visited everything he has ever lost.
"No, no, I wasn't mad or anything. I was just surprised, is all. It's not everyday you see a ten year old boy having existential problems. I mean, for Arcana's sake, you're a kid!" He spread his arms and yelled to the Sky Beyond.
"You should be playing, not thinking about stupid things like… whatever it was you were thinking about… Look, I'm not smart, far from it, really. But I have seen things most people would, and should not, see in any of their lifetimes. I've learned a lot from it, but nowhere near as much as I've lost." He crouched down so he could look at the boy at eye-level. He said fondly:
"Look, I don't know what you're going through, or what kind of thoughts are hanging in that noggin' of yours… but I do know this." He pulled the boy in for a tight hug, and Lieren accepted it warmly.
"I'm here for you, okay? We all are, even those adventurers, and even that weird maid. All of us are here. So… the next time that you need something, or you can't do something alone; just give us a call. We'll be there to help you. All of us."
Tears fell from the boy's eyes, tightening his hug on his most trusted confidant.
"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind."