9.00 a.m.
The training ground previously used by Boyd to train Flare remained empty for a few days after Flare's identity was figured out, and soon, it was used for another. A brown-haired child, wearing only his shorts, is training himself. Burn marks at the front and back of his body seem to have healed, but it made one significant scar mark. Despite being a child, his body is fit and toned, with rigorous, regular exercise. He made a sparring dummy out of iron bars and trained. For 30 minutes straight, he kept hitting the iron dummy with his forearms, both sides of his hands, and his elbow. He kept on the routine even though the iron bars were bent after taking a few hits from his hits. He ended his spar with the dummy with a side kick to the side, which completely snapped the upward iron bar into two. After that, he ran into the woods, climbed the tree, and free-runs as he jumped from tree to tree at a fantastic speed without falling. His light weight made it perfect for him as he stepped from branch to branch, whether thick or thin.
Once he finished training, for some reason, he jumped from tree to tree again until he stopped at one. The leaves rustle, and dead leaves land on the ground as he searches for something. He finally grabbed something from the tree and jumped down, holding three lacquerware boxes stacked to each other. The wooden boxes are stacked and wrapped with an old yet stylish blue cloth. Once he unwraps the piece of fabric and opens the boxes, for some reason, he begins to drool as his stomach growls in hunger. He quickly arranged them side by side. Each slot inside each box is filled with a delectable array of foods. There is fried tempura, meatballs, rice, coleslaw, and many more, ranging from every meat, and the bottom-most box is filled with miso soup. After clasping his hands together and saying, 'Thanks for the food, ' the glutton gobbles every food. Place the soup into the slot that contains the rice and continue to chow down more. When the soup he poured dried up, he ran more and continued until all the packed food was finished. All the meat, the large amount of rice, and the box of soup ended in his stomach.
"…Delicious as always," Jojo smiled as he stacked and wrapped the boxes back to how they initially were.
Suddenly, he could hear someone clapping from a distance, and it was coming closer and closer. He quickly hid the boxes in the trees and stood there at the training ground, watching everything there was. His cheerful, bouncy, child-like demeanor immediately ended there as his expression changed into much colder, more deadly, and bloodthirsty eyes. Sensing a presence, he instantly faces the direction he felt it and wanted, and moments later, a man wearing a jester costume arrives, still clapping slowly.
"Yes, that was truly impressive."
"I can see the progress you've made since we last fought, Jojo," Roland compliments with his snarky remark.
"I hear your injuries are healed. Truly magnificent."
"Tch…"
"What do you want, Roland?" Jojo groans.
"Hmm, it seems you've learned something about respecting others. I thought I would have to break three of your ribs again. You've grown up," the jester smiles.
Jojo instinctively holds the right side of his chest and grips it tightly. His hostile eyes are squared on the jester, and his feet look like he is ready to spring his step.
"…Feel free to pick the time," Roland waves and walks away.
"We are the finalists, after all…"
"…"
Jojo needs to answer. Instead, the kid clenches his face as he gazes at the walking jester. He didn't even blink, and his eyes were completely fixated on the clown until he vanished.
* * * * *
"Don't look down if you are afraid of heights?" Boyd warned the rest as he casually paced on the swinging bridge.
While he is walking on the pieces of wood without a slight worry, the rest are clumped together with their hands gripping the ropes to their side as they slowly tiptoe to the tower.
The tower is located near the island's center amidst the thick forest and rocky hills. At first, when they came, there was a structure barely attached, and none of them, including Weiss, were brave enough to dare to climb a near-collapsed structure. However, they then noticed the wooden hanging bridge attached to the top of the tower, which led to another tower deeper into the hills. Unlike the tower in front of them, the second tower is still in wondrous condition. The stone structure still stands tall, proof of its grand architectural work. It looks like a watchtower from afar, judging by its flat top and the open windows. However, upon closer inspection, it looked more like an unused keep.
"Well then, come one. Why are you all so slow and about?" Boyd asks as he faces them, 10 meters away from the group.
"…How is he so calm?!" Flare mutters as she slides slowly on the bridge with both her hands gripping the rope as if she is gripping for her dear life.
Marcia peeks down and is instantly filled with irrational fear. There is a deep ravine between the two towers, and she can see the rocky ground, some still stained with old blood. Weiss walks much faster than both but slower than Boyd as he grips his side of the rope. The wind was not making it better either as its gentle blow felt like a force pushing the bridge, ravaging it to ensure all four of them trip and fall to the ravine below.
"…"
"There, that was not so bad, was it?"
"Ahahaha ahahahah!" Boyd laughs as he watches all three kneel once they reach the keep.
"It's not funny!" Marcia yelped.
"You were going too fast; the three of us were having a hard time keeping up," she adds to prove a point.
"No, you were going too slow," Boyd responds.
"You were going too fast."
"You were going too slow."
Meanwhile, Flare and Weiss stood at the side with puzzled faces.
"…Hey, Captain…did I miss something while I was gone?" Weiss asks.
"…I'm also trying to find that out," Flare responds.
Two weeks ago, they were practically enemies, albeit one-sided. And now…"
"They're both just chummy with each other."
"What happened?" Weiss asks again.
"I don't know!" Flare hisses.
"You were going too fast!"
"No, you were going too slow!" Boyd raises his voice.
"…"
"But…you were going too slow," Marcia sulks.
In an instant, Boyd approaches the little girl. He gently pats her shoulders as if comforting her and apologizes for raising his voice.
"…Y-Yeah, I was going too fast. I was going at the speed of sound," Boyd apologizes in a remorseful tone.
"I will buy you something when we get to Erythyl, okay?"
"Uncle Boyd?!" Weiss calls out, filled with confusion.
"Since when did she wrap around Marcia's finger? While I was taking a bath?" Flare added, still bewildered at what she was seeing.
"…Tch. Don't be idiotic, Your Highness! I am not wrapped in anyone's…" Boyd replies.
"I want the pizza at the market. The one with pineapples!" Marcia announces, interrupting Boyd's statement.
"HA! That one costs 80 coins! And you don't put pineapple on a damn pizza!"
"He yelled at me…" Marcia sulks again.
"No, not this one. If it is pepperonis, I will consider," Boyd negotiates.
After a while, the two stopped rambling and concluded to have a bite of pizza when they returned to the market. Flare and Weiss still need clarification on all this, but they agree to ask them about this at another time while they are not in an empty, abandoned, old keep. Boyd walked to the center and looked up, inspecting the place further from the big hole in the middle of the spiral staircase. Without a word, he instructed them to follow him up the stairs. As they walked upwards on the old stone staircase while removing several cobwebs, Flare began asking Marcia about her improved relationship with Boyd. Despite Flare's open and gentle tone, Marcia told them she would talk to them once they were at the top of the keep. Weiss was upset about this, but he kept silent as if he knew she would keep her word. Before they realized it, they had reached the second uppermost level of the keep.
"This way," Boyd said as he entered the nearby hallway.
"Eh, we are not going to the top?" Flare asks.
"It's not where it happened," Boyd blatantly states.
"Where what happened?" Flare inquired further, but the old man had disappeared into the hallway.
"Honestly, this ambiguous journey annoys me," Flare mumbles.
Weiss gave her a hard smack on the back and laughed.
"Hahaha…don't worry. You can trust the old man," he announced.
"…"
"…!"
Weiss was puzzled as to why the three of them were suddenly silent and why Flare and Marcia were looking at him with red, flustered faces.
"W-…"
SMACK!
"…"
"…I am not a boy, Weiss, so you can stop smacking me in the back like you always do on Uncle Boyd," Flare lectures him as they follow Boyd from afar.
"I'm telling you, I didn't touch any of your private parts!" Weiss defends himself while gently wiping the red slap mark on his face.
"Being on a journey with only an old man does not excuse such behavior," Marcia adds.
"….AAH!!!" Weiss suddenly screams in frustration at his recent actions.
The three of them bickered as Boyd led the way. After some time, Boyd finally stops, but the three still argue about Weiss's actions.
"Here…I think," Boyd declares with uncertainty.
Flare instantly stops when he says it and is surprised to see the sun lighting up the entire room through the open, or should she say, shattered windows. Unlike the rest of the keep, this room is cleaner than the rest, and what surprised her most was the slightly dusty shrine located at the center of the room. Flare approached the sturdy shrine by herself, inspecting it even further. Meanwhile, Weiss, Marcia, and Boyd stood behind her, observing her. Boyd was preventing them from doing anything. His outstretched right arm blocked them from advancing as if he wished merely for Flare to be alone for some unknown purpose.
Flare stopped before the shrine and noticed the smell of faded incense, traditionally used in meditation, ceremonies, or a funeral. The cloth used to cover it is slightly torn, probably by roaming wild animals. However, the most appealing is not the scent but the item she saw on the shrine. It is a necklace made out of jade, pure jade. Next to it is a sword. Not just any sword. The sword is undoubtedly an elven design. The sword is similar to an Eastern design, but its dark brown hilt is slightly curvier, and eleven words are written on it. Flare instantly notices that the sword is imbued with ancient, elven magic, which mystifies her. She could feel it calling her name as trembling hands slowly approached the sword until Boyd instantly grabbed her hand, knocking her out of her trance.
"…W-What was that?" Flare stammers, terrified of the sword's calling.
"The Calima. Sword of Light," Boyd answers clearly as if he already knew about it.
"-W-W-Why…why did you bring me here, Uncle Boyd?" Flare asks, desperately gasping for air.
Suddenly, the sword's calling dialed down and disappeared as if the old man had done something to quell it. He sheathed the blade to his hip and moved on. Boyd stands up and continues to observe the shrine while looking at Flare. Marcia helps Flare calm down, while Weiss is still puzzled at the cycle of events.
"Before you ask, yes. It is the kingdom's holy sword, the Calima-."
"-And no, it is not authentic. This one is a replica. A well-made replica imbued with a potent curse, but I've dealt with that curse just now," Boyd answers before Flare can answer any questions.
"…"
Flare remained silent, slightly hesitant in Boyd's statement, until he suddenly gave the sword to her. With just one touch, Flare instantly realized that this sword was a replica. The potent magic she had felt before was gone, and it was just nothing more than a platinum replica of said sword. She handed the convincing replica back to Boyd, apologizing simultaneously. Boyd nodded, told her he did not take it to heart, and sheathed the sword to his hip again.
"I reckon you already know why we are here, Your Highness," Boyd states.
"…Something about a Memory Wall. Weiss told me about it," Flare answers in a calmer tone despite her sweating forehead.
"But…what? What did I forget?"
"Does it have something to do with that sword?" Flare points at the blade, still on top of the shrine.
"I…"
Boyd looked around, and for an instant, his view stopped at Marcia before he turned back to face Flare.
"No. I think it is about time I am to be truly honest to you," Boyd rearranged his thoughts.
"…What do you mean?"
"…"
"I wanted to never talk about it if I could help it, but I see that I have to make things more complicated…"
"…And I do not want to lose your trust again after our previous scuffle on the ship…"
"I presume you already knew almost everything regarding the Memory Wall spell, don't you?" Boyd asks, carefully layering his words.
"It is a spell that blocks certain parts of memories in the brain. From what I know and read, this spell is forbidden by the renowned magic institutions in almost every continent, including Cantor," Flare answers, recalling her memory.
"…Then, I'll also assume that you know this spell can only be cast by Mental-based magic users."
"Yes, and by proxy, only those users can remove it," she continues.
"Correct, and that is relevant here. Now."
For some reason, the old, musty smell of the keep and fading incense dissipates from the air as the old man, entirely covered in armor, stands there. Although he still wore his helmet, Flare could tell that Boyd was serious, as did the others.
"…Your brother, Mitchel, if he wanted to simply tell you about what happened here, he could just come here or hire any other magic users who are qualified enough to do it-."
"If that were the only job, we would have been here long ago and be in Erythyl by now. The stop through Crayton Settlement would be unnecessary-."
"-And yet, here I am. Your brother asked me to help him regarding this particular problem and with the task of sending you to Erythyl."
"Have you asked yourself…why?" Boyd asked Flare.
Boyd remained silent after he asked his question, awaiting an answer from the still perplexed Flare due to the immense amount of information currently storming inside her head. Each thought clashed with another as the chemicals in her brain increased, desperate to find an answer to his relatively simple question. Thought by thought, every possible answer came flushing inside, but some of the details were similar, which she noticed.
"…Flowers…"
"Steel…"
"…Dirt…"
"Brother…"
"Garden…"
"Training ground…"
* * * * *
Years before…
SWASH!
SWASH!
SWASH! SWASH!
THUMP!
Crash!
"…Ow…."
For some unknown reason, Flare is training near the garden area with her brother, not at the training grounds. Her teenage body just got smacked with a wooden sword directly from the front. Despite wearing body armor, the strike is enough to make her squeal in pain nearly. However, despite the pain, she wobbly pushes herself back up using her hands and wooden sword.
"Not yet…," she said, rubbing the chest to relieve the pain.
"I am not done yet…"
Instantly, she raised the sword, held it with her two thin arms, and looked at her opponent with determination.
"One more time…"
"MITCHEL!" she calls out as she dashes towards him for a frontal attack.
SWASH!
"…Your footwork still needs more…work, little sister," Mitchel joked once the two finished their sparring session.
"Hmm, it rhymes…" Mitchel thought and praised himself.
"That is so lame," Flare jests.
Mitchel smiles and nods.
"Well, in any case, you've got work to do. Your reflexes are still slow," Mitchel responds.
"Maybe for a teenager…" she replies.
"Think bandits and mutineers will go easy on you because you haven't grown up into a lady yet?" he responds, with his arms crossed.
"Though in your shoes, I'd fear Dad more than any bandit. Disobeying his instructions is a bit…unwise."
"Well,…that book and the literature were dull!" Flare complains to him.
"Hah hah…"
"I know, but you know that is no excuse."
"Ugh…I'm sorry. It won't happen again."
"Better not. Dad said if it does, he'll make you eat a bowl of snails. Maybe he'll give you a bit of sugar," Mitchel jokes.
"Hahah. Eeewww!" Flare laughs as she shakes her head in disgust.
"Exactly. So you behave," Mitchel chuckles.
"Now, it is better to return to the training grounds and practice with the others."
Flare quickly unsheathes her wooden sword, preparing to leave the garden.
"Shall we run the walls?" she suggests.
"Alex would flip out if he knows we do that."
"…But it's the best! You're not afraid of the heights, are you?" Flare subtly taunts him with a tease.
"…Hahaha."
"Of course, we are training after all, but don't be too reckless, or you'll crash on one of the guards like before," he reminds her of their previous training.
"I'll beat you to it!" Flare sprints before Mitchel was even ready.
"Hah, maybe you'll fall first again," he joked and gave chase.
Flare used the nearby ladder put there to climb up to the nearby roof, but Mitchel jumped towards the wall, pushed himself upwards, and managed to grab the roof's eaves. While Flare is climbing the ladder, Mitchel already stands up the roof.
"Tch! Show off," Flare clicks.
"Hahaha, you'll learn it when you are a bit older. I heard Father negotiating with Mr. Cadman about training you," Mitchel reveals.
"Really? I thought he would be leaving soon."
"Don't worry about the minor details. I'm sure he will agree to it."
"I hope so. Those techniques looked like fun."
"It is. , don't imitate me, or you'll crash again," Mitchel joked, reminding Flare about their previous training.
"Hmph!"
After their petty squabbling, they reached the training grounds, where Alex, the eldest brother, was training with an orc named Wolfe. At first, the siblings were scared to even look at Wolfe since he had two faces. However, after a while and many humorous jokes and hysterical laughs, they quickly got along. The two of them are sparring ardently, almost as if they are battling each other to death instead of just sparring, and another man, wearing full-clad armor, observes the two of them. He is wearing heavy, royal armor given to him by the king, King Edwen. Alex relentlessly attacks Wolfe without the slightest opening, or so he thought. The instant Alex went too consumed in his attacks, Wolfe parries and ripostes him with a light knee kick to the stomach. However, Alex instantly counters him with a tiny bolt of lightning, which Wolfe manages to block with his sword, added with a bit of magic.
"Haha! You got me there, Alex," Wolfe praised.
"It is as expected. I am a prince and a knight, after all," Alex scoffs.
"Still high-horsed as ever. Well, train by yourself for a while. I need to talk to Cadman."
Once Wolfe leaves him, Alex looks at his newly crafted weapon. Despite being new and costly, the man did not hold back as he tested his new weapon for battles. It had been weeks since he had the sword spear in his hand. The blade was still sharp as he first bought it, although Wolfe warned him that he must occasionally sharpen it if Alex feels it has blunted. Then, he instantly turns from his weapon once he sees Mitchel and Flare approaching him.
"...Still training her Mitchel. You should know that our skills far exceed her already," Alex scoffs while glimpsing at Flare.
"That's not a nice thing to say, Alex. Dad instructed us to train her before she reaches age, so we'll do just that," Mitchel answers.
"Huh, I'm not going to train whelps that don't even know their footwork."
"The last time we trained, she gave up before the 1st minute."
"That's because you practically beat her to a pulp when she knows nothing about swordplay," Mitchel retorts.
Flare just looked down, unable to even say anything to fight back.
"…"
"Hmph, not even enough honor to defend your name," Alex scoffs, looking at the silent Flare.
"Weak…"
"Well, it is as it should be. Maybe you are still remembering which caste you are from…"
In that instant, suddenly, Flare instantly drew his sword and slashed the air. At the same time, Alex grips the pole of his weapon and blocks her attack with the blade. The two of them dodged each other and locked their sword. None of them are forfeiting despite the clear advantage Alex has. Undoubtedly, the elder brother is stronger than the youngest sister. He can quickly push her back and taunt her, but he locks his weapon and observes her as her eyes look in on him… and smile. The smile puzzled Flare before he pushed her backward away from him.
"…Though I guess your spunk is commendable," Alex comments.
"Wait…is that a genuine compliment I hear?" Mitchel suddenly steps in, teasing his older brother.
Instead of being his usual arrogant self, Alex suddenly loses his composure and stands there, stunned.
"Always want to be dominant, but blushes whenever he gives a compliment…"
"Hey, that rhymes too!" Mitchel, again, praises himself.
While he is flattering himself, Flare and Alex look at him in irritation.
"…I swear, one of these days, I will smack you with a hammer to fix that attitude!" Alex growls at Mitchel.
However, Flare remains silent, which Alex finds annoying, leaving her alone.
Meanwhile, Flare noticed the two men approaching them and heard a part of their conversation as they approached them.
"-tensions are rising between us. I suspect we'll go to war with them soon."
"Damn, looks like I have to send the brat to Atlis soon."
"You'll join if there is?"
"…Probably. No doubt this is one of that maggot's doings. I'll have to investigate," the fully armored man responds to that dubious question.
"I'll have to change my name though. Everett's sounds nice…"
"Knowing you, you'll probably wear that old armor again…"
The two laughed, but Flare stood there with a bemused face.
"All right, spar training again. Alex, you're with me—Mitchel, with Cadman. Flare, you're with the dummy," Wolfe announces.
"Ha…again?"
"Don't hush me, young lady. Just pretend now, so you probably won't die later," Wolfe responds to her complaint.
"….And don't try to run away, my Moses can see you!"
As she approached the straw dummy, Flare glimpsed and noticed Cadman glancing at her while at the same time talking to Mitchel regarding something, something which worries her because ever since she came here, she would catch glimpses of Mitchel's serious expression when he talks to the man who she still doesn't know his face. Nevertheless, she ignored it as always and began striking the dummy with a steel sword she grabbed from the weapon's rack.
* * * * *
"Cadman…"
"Everett…"
"…Brian Everett…"
Flare instantly snaps back to reality. She is kneeling on both legs for some reason while Weiss and Marcia stand near the doorway, watching her from afar. In front of her, there's Boyd, whose right hand is glowing in…
"…Red…"
"Black…"
"Red and black?"
Flare suddenly chuckles, which puzzled the quite serious Boyd.
"You have a weird color as your circuits, Uncle Boyd."
"Hmmm! Ahahaha!"
"Still joking even in a serious situation. You'll warm the hearts of your subjects if you become queen, Your Highness," Boyd chuckles as he compliments her.
Then, Flare's face turned serious.
"…You were there, back before the Demon War, as…" she pieced.
"As both Alex and Mitchel's trainer in their squire, although Wolfe did most of the job, I trained them even before you arrived at the palace," Boyd finished her words.
Flare just took it, not saying a word as Boyd observed her, waiting for a response.
"See, remember what I said that mere words can potentially trigger a response?-."
"-Well, this is more. So much more."
"Your Highness, before we begin, I have to warn you," Boyd utters.
Flare looked at Boyd. Again, although he is wearing a helmet, it is evident by the tone of his voice that he is apprehensive about what they are doing right now. There was a slight stutter in his voice, which made her spine shiver, frightened of this memory that Mitchel wanted her to know.
"I didn't just train them. To wipe out your memory, Mitchel asked for my help to erect the spell and put the great Flare wall between you and the things you don't remember-."
Flare tried to interrupt, but Boyd's sudden seriousness somehow cut the words from coming out.
"Best case scenario, you'll feel nauseous and temporarily contract epileptic seizures-."
"The worst is?" Flare asks, slightly frightened.
"…"
"When you wake up and return, your mind will be completely gone, added with…intense pain," Boyd simplifies it as if he avoids telling the exact details to Flare.
"You've probably read mages publish a journal about the brain, one of the main keys of our circuits."
"…I've read a thing or two, yes."
"They say we only use a fraction of our brain's potential when awake. The state of your brain can be used completely during sleep. The mind can achieve almost anything there, and that's where the wall will be."
"The wall blocks all the memories inside, and the mind fills itself continuously. It creates and perceives the world as you see it, filling the empty memories with possible outcomes."
"Which made it feel natural; it is as if you remember forgetting something, say a purse, as you go to the nearest bakery."
"The human mind does this so well that people simply do not know the spell even worked on them."
"How?" Flare asks.
She seemed interested in the topic.
"Because the mind works so well to fill in the blank, that allows the spell to get right into the middle of the process, almost like a harmless dust."
"That is the true nature of the Memory Wall spell," Boyd said.
"By removing the wall, the actual memories will engulf the current memories that previously deputize the empty memories. The severity of this process is that, depending on the memory, the mind sometimes rejects the memory, which will look the two in a perpetual tug of war…"
"…Which will then cause the mental shutdown," Flare deduces.
"Brilliant."
Boyd slowly draws his hand near, raising it slightly higher.
"In short, I need to put you to sleep and destroy the wall."
"The memories you will see, they will feel real…"
Flare kept listening to him and noticed the slight change in tone when Boyd said his previous sentence. She was not holding it back this time, especially since her mental health was at stake.
"You know what happened, don't you, Uncle Boyd?" Flare asks gently, trying to cover her fear.
Boyd didn't answer.
"Please, at least I…"
"The only thing I can say is…," Boyd quickly cuts her short.
"Do you remember what happened before you came to Whitefall?"
"…Of course I…"
Before Flare could finish her words, Boyd immediately placed his hand on the left side of her head and instantly activated his red-black colored circuits. The scream was enough to make Weiss and Marcia flee from the room. The sheer amount of energy pierces through her head, and Flare screams in pain as his magical energy flows through her skull into her brain. Slowly, her eyes and vision became blurry, and the voices surrounding her became muffled. However, she could hear a gentle, rough, soothing voice. For the first time since she traveled, she heard…pity from Boyd.
"No matter what happens next, don't be too hard on yourself, Your Highness-."
"Even now, after all that happened, your life was still more than others could ever hope for."
"A blessed life."
"…"
"Lucky you…"