Things have calmed down since the Ancestors attacked two days ago. The people of the city were still somewhat shaken by the sudden attack, most traumatized at seeing familiar faces turn on one another with brutal efficiency. Friends turned against one another, fathers against their daughters, and mothers against their sons. A memorial was set to be held once every death has been accounted for.
It irked him how many had died, even more so because of his strength. All his power, yet so many still died. He was under no illusion that he could have saved everyone; however, that does not change the fact that many had died in such a random attack by a crazed woman.
In the end, it just went to show how messed up this world was compared to his own. You could die at any moment, even in the comfort of a haven. With so many absurd unprecedented factors in this unnatural world, everyone could be subjected to the most miserable of endings. The sooner one accepted that reality, the easier one's views of the world became clear. It was why he was not wallowing in self-pity despite the deaths of numerous innocents.
Mikoto could not help but frown beneath his helmet as he stood in a destroyed section of the city. Ruined buildings, naught but skeletal structures and debris strewn upon the ground in reckless abandon. Numerous craters decorated the ground with dried-up blood staining it, and of course, the large gaping hole that spread wide enough to fit in a dozen buildings.
His own doing, red luminescent mana pulsed on the edges of the gaping gouge that spanned so deep it was nothing but an abyss. "Man, I keep underestimating Sabre's efficiency. I can't fix this shit," Mikoto blurted out to himself. He rubbed the chin of his helmet in thought, "I guess they'll have to just repair around the hole. I can't fix the damage Sabre does." No one could, it seems; the damage he dealt in his battle with Telluris was also still in the forest.
Sabre was an odd blade, with its ability to force itself onto the natural laws of the realm and wound it; it may almost match the Harbinger of Fate. Though the latter blade is miles ahead when it comes to versatility. However, it still made him think of Sabre's origins, a holy blade embedded in stone, only being wielded by those it finds worthy. "Man, it would be so cool if it's Excalibur," he joked. "Unfortunately, there are no Arthurian legends in this world. Or any kind of lore that can be found in my world. I mean, it makes sense, I guess."
"Ah, there you are." A voice and approaching footsteps cut his thoughts short. He did not have to turn to see who it was; the white hair in his peripheral vision told him already. Lucinda's eyes wandered through the devastation around him while approaching him. As she stopped beside him, her eyes traveled to the enormous gouge upon the city. "To think some people would go about willingly to cause such destruction without reservation."
Mikoto hummed in agreement, "Just goes to show that monsters like that often trounce about unabated." He stated with a low tone, "But what brings you to me? Did you need something?"
"Oh, I merely wanted to see you off," she clarified. "I heard you were going to accompany General Mai's and Lady Guinevere's group in their training."
"Oh, that. Yeah, it sounded interesting, and Guinevere wanted me to go along with." He shrugged, "They probably just want to see my power firsthand."
"You have the right of it..." Her brows slightly furrowed as a look of contemplation filled her face. "But yesterday in the meeting with the king, you no doubt took note of it, no?" She questioned. Mikoto could easily discern what she meant with her vague words but kept quiet as he let her continue. "It may have not been obvious to most, but the king merely wanted you to follow some set instructions." The frown on her face deepened at that. "He sought to use you."
"Yeah, I figured, though it's of my own volition he's quick to want me to face the strongest threats," Mikoto chuckled as he folded his arms. "It kinda irks me that someone weaker than me wants to use me. Was this something you had to go through?"
Lucinda gave a humorless chuckle, her eyes blankly staring at the carnage before and around them. "That and then some. I do not think King Thordan is a cruel man, but he is someone who puts the kingdom in front of anything, even his own children. He sought to make use of me the moment I was born; training was a part of my daily life as you know. Furthermore, he was quick to toss me to the wolves. Despite my lack of experience and state, I was all but forced to participate in the festival last year as well."
"But why do you allow it?" Mikoto questioned. "Barring me and Guinevere, you seem to be the strongest in Galadriel. They can't possibly force you to do anything at every waking moment, right?"
"You're right..." Lucinda pursed her lips. "It's just, do I have any purpose besides being a weapon? I am a spawn of Octavia; is it not my duty to fight?"
Mikoto merely snorted, "There you go with that line of thinking again." Mikoto shook his head, "You were much of the same mind back in Verdantis. Seems you have it in your mind that you're just good for violence. It's true you're a spawn of a Goddess of war, but there's clearly more to your life than being a tool for this kingdom."
"Perhaps," she mumbled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "But I lack the conviction to fight back against a kingdom that nurtured me, I admit. I really envy your sense of freedom," she admitted with a chuckle.
"You shouldn't envy something within your reach. Just don't constantly listen to what others tell you; if you don't want to participate in this festival, then don't. If you don't want to fight, then don't." Mikoto simplified, "And if anyone gives you shit for that, then just beat the shit out of them. Hell, just call me to do it if you can't."
"Heh, you make it sound so easy," she smiled. "But I suppose it is, huh? Still, what good would my magic be outside of battle?"
"Plenty good. Tell me, what's your favorite spell?" Mikoto suddenly asked, catching her off guard.
"I... I'm not sure," she murmured.
"Well, mine's Memory Retrieval," he answered easily. "Sometimes I enjoy viewing past memories. Reminds me why I'm doing all of this. With magic, my goal is possible, while I use it as a tool for violence, its most important role to me deviates from that."
She looked at him curiously, ("Mikoto's goal? What could it be?") Mikoto was always someone she would view as mysterious despite the fact that the boy was often open with his thoughts. It was as odd as it was refreshing. "So I should use my strengths for a goal," she interpreted; his helmeted head shook.
"If you have one, just remember it's fine to do what you want to, you know? You don't have to walk a set path; that's boring," Mikoto advised. "You have a unique position after all." He gave her a tap on her arm with a hidden smile, "But that's all the wise advice yours truly has for the day. I'm leaving with the others late evening; might as well get some more training in with Sabre."
Lucinda looked down in contemplation at his words before a smile graced her lips, "Say, would you mind if we partake in some fencing? I fear my skills with a sword may have dwindled somewhat."
"Heh, you're on. But I'm pretty good with a sword, so it's your funeral," he confidently stated. Lucinda smiled on despite that.
"Very well then, I won't hold back."
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[Galadriel Capital: Throne room]
"The boy..." King Thordan's steely blue eyes latched onto the idle form of Guinevere poised near his throne, "He's out of line."
"Well, what can you do?" She merely shrugged. "With the kind of power he possesses, did you seriously think he'd listen to your every word merely because you are king?"
Thordan frowned at that, "Power does not excuse disrespect. This merely shows his state of mind; how bold will he continue to grow? He needs to be controlled."
Guinevere chuckled, "Controlled like dear Lucinda?" She shook her head. "A child should be monitored but never controlled. They deserve freedom along with their youth."
"Hm," Thordan grunted out, "It's vastly different here. Mikoto Yukio's power can serve to threaten the realm. Without the needed guidance, he can easily succumb to the allure of chaos."
"Sounds like fear talking," she noted, her disrespect more evident than even Mikoto's. "You're much too paranoid. I can vouch for Mikoto; see an acquaintance of mine seems to value him. That alone speaks volumes of his character."
"Am I merely supposed to take your word for it?" Thordan questioned.
"No. But you will," Guinevere merely stated with a sly smile, turning on her heel and not even bidding farewell; she merely walked. "Take it from someone wiser than you, boy. Do not antagonize Mikoto Yukio; heed my advice and appease the boy." She left through the throne room doors with her parting words.
Stepping onto the vast hallways, the smile on her face immediately slid off, replaced with a look as blank as a canvas. "That man roams freely once more, yet I must deal with a king that might as well be in diapers," she sighed heavily as if tired. "Lyra... was mother's sacrifice in vain then? Did she die to that monster for no reason?"
What her lilac eyes hid, only she knew, but that changed quickly. A deep conviction burned in her eyes all the same, as if she quickly resolved herself to do something of great importance. "It does not matter if he runs freely now. I will kill Aelfric."