Return of Third-Person POV:
Lucien's mind raced as his grandfather's words hung heavy in the air. The revelations about his father, Cassius, cut deeper than he had anticipated. "So, this is the truth about my father," he murmured, his voice tinged with a mixture of disbelief and sorrow.
Heinrich's expression remained grave as he continued, each word laden with solemnity. "Since childhood, Cassius has been driven by his desires, heedless of the consequences. But what he seeks now, will only lead to ruin, Lucien."
The weight of those words settled upon Lucien like a heavy shroud, his thoughts swirling with a tumult of emotions. "To think that my own father..." he began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the words to articulate his turmoil.
"Cassius believes he is entitled to inherit Starvol," Heinrich interjected, his tone somber. "But when he learns the truth—that you are to be the successor instead—"
Lucien's heart clenched at the implications of those words. "He will see me not as his son, but as..." His voice faltered, unable to voice the stark reality that lay before him.
Heinrich nodded solemnly, understanding the weight of Lucien's unspoken fears. "Indeed, Lucien. Cassius will see you as prey, a barrier standing in the way of his ambitions."
A heavy silence settled between them, punctuated only by the soft rustle of leaves outside. Lucien's thoughts churned with apprehension, grappling with the harsh truth of his father's nature and the uncertain path that lay ahead.
"He never saw me as a son," Lucien finally admitted, his voice tinged with melancholy. "But to be viewed as prey by one's own flesh and blood... It is a fate I had never imagined."
Heinrich continued, fixing his gaze on Lucien with a mix of curiosity and concern. "Lucien, before I bestow Starvol upon you, I wish to understand your aspirations. What are your goals?"
Lucien's expression shifted into one of contemplation. "My goals, huh." He paused, allowing a moment of silence to fill the space as he delved into his thoughts. Then, breaking the quietude, he spoke again. "This might sound both simple and complex, but all I truly desire is a life that doesn't bore me. I'll strive to make that a reality, whatever it takes."
Heinrich regarded his grandson with a mixture of bemusement and understanding. "It may not be the noblest of goals," he admitted, "but I can appreciate its honesty. However, if I entrust Starvol to you, I ask for one promise in return: that you never stray from the path set by the fallen soldiers of our lineage, their will that still lives on today."
Lucien raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Their will?" he inquired.
"Their will for humanity to thrive once more, to reclaim what was rightfully ours," Heinrich clarified.
Lucien's lips curled into a half-smile. "I may not be a saint, old geezer, but I'm not heartless either."
"Very well, then," Heinrich conceded, a hint of amusement in his tone. "But know this, Lucien: with the bestowal of Starvol upon you, I relinquish my position as the head of the Agar family. That mantle will be yours to bear once Starvol is firmly in your grasp, and its power flows through you."
Lucien nodded pensively, his eyes clouded with uncertainty. "I understand," he murmured softly, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "But am I truly worthy of wielding such a weapon?"
His words hung in the air, heavy with doubt and introspection. "Considering my quirk, or lack thereof," he continued, his tone tinged with self-doubt, "I can't help but wonder if Starvol would be better suited in the hands of someone with greater abilities. All I possess is the ability to see far and precise, hardly a match for the grandeur of Starvol."
A flicker of insecurity flashed across his features as he confessed, "I fear that such a powerful weapon would be wasted on me."
Heinrich placed a reassuring hand on Lucien's shoulder, his eyes radiating warmth and wisdom. "Lucien, my boy," he began, his voice steady and comforting, "the true measure of a warrior lies not solely in the power of their quirk, but in the depth of their resolve and the strength of their character."
He paused, allowing his words to sink in before continuing with a gentle smile. "Your quirk may not be what some would deem extraordinary, but it possesses a unique quality that sets you apart. Your ability to see far and with precision is a gift, one that is perfectly suited for an archer. Remember, it's not always about the power you wield, but how you choose to wield it."
Lucien's eyes softened, touched by his grandfather's words. "But I still wonder if I'm worthy of wielding Starvol," he admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
Heinrich's smile widened, his gaze unwavering. "Worthiness, Lucien, is not determined solely by the abilities you possess, but by the intentions that drive you and the actions you take. You have shown courage, determination, and a willingness to face whatever challenges come your way. That, my boy, is what makes you worthy."
With those words, Lucien felt a newfound sense of confidence stir within him, dispelling the doubts that had clouded his mind. He straightened his posture, his resolve firm. "Thank you, Old geezer," he said sincerely. "I will not falter in the responsibility entrusted to me."
Heinrich nodded approvingly. "I have no doubt about that, Lucien. Now, let us proceed. Your journey with Starvol is about to begin."
Heinrich's voice resonated with a sense of solemnity as he imparted crucial knowledge to Lucien. "As I'm sure you are aware, we are a family of Armaments, each bearing our own unique quirk, just like any other individual. However, with the possession of Starvol, you will gain access to a formidable arsenal. You'll be able to wield arrows enhanced not only with my own quirk, Venomise—the ability to produce any type of poison from one's body, provided you know its chemical composition—but also with the quirks of the previous successors."
He paused, allowing the weight of his words to sink in before continuing. "It's important to understand that these inherited quirks can only be channeled through the arrows conjured by Starvol. You yourself do not inherit these quirks directly."
Lucien absorbed this information with a mixture of fascination and apprehension. The prospect of wielding such potent abilities was both thrilling and daunting. Yet, he couldn't shake off the sense of responsibility that came with it.
Heinrich's hands came together in a solemn gesture, fingers interlocked as if in prayer. His gaze, steady and resolute, pierced through the veil of time and tradition. With a voice that resonated with the weight of generations, he began to speak:
"By the covenant of Starvol, forged in the crucible of our ancestors' valor, I do solemnly swear. In the name of our lineage, bound by duty and honor, I call forth the spirit of this sacred artifact."
Each word carried the weight of centuries past, an echo of the bloodline's unyielding commitment. As he continued, a palpable sense of reverence filled the air, as though the very essence of Starvol stirred in acknowledgment of the oath spoken.
"As the current custodian of this storied legacy, I acknowledge the fleeting nature of my stewardship. Thus, I vow to uphold the sanctity of Starvol and to pass its mantle to one worthy of bearing its burden."
As a blue crack split the air behind Heinrich, a magnificent figure emerged, standing tall at twelve feet. Draped in regal attire, her skin, eyes, and even her flowing hair bore the same shade of celestial blue. A tiara adorned her head, emitting a soft aura of azure energy. With graceful poise, she opened her eyes, revealing orbs of deep cerulean that sparkled with ancient wisdom.
"Heinrich, look at how you've aged," she chimed with playful affection, her voice like the gentle melody of a celestial choir.
Heinrich's expression flickered between irritation and amusement, his smile masking any hint of annoyance. "It has indeed been some time," he replied, acknowledging her presence with a nod.
Turning his attention to Lucien, Heinrich introduced the ethereal being before them. "Allow me to present Silvia, the spirit that resides within Starvol."
Silvia's eyes danced with delight as she surveyed the room and then cast her gaze upon Lucien. "Oh, how adorable my descendants are, simply precious," she cooed, her voice filled with fondness.
Confusion etched itself onto Lucien's features as he struggled to comprehend Silvia's words. "Descendants?" he queried, seeking clarification.
Heinrich offered an explanation, his tone tinged with reverence for the ancient lineage they shared. "Before Silvia became the spirit dwelling within Starvol, she was the wife of our ancestor, Fritz Agar, and so she's my grandmother."
Silvia's serene smile widened as she recounted their shared history. "Yes, my dear Fritz was a visionary. When he unraveled the mysteries of quirks and forged Starvol, he foresaw its potential for both salvation and destruction. In his wisdom, he feared its misuse and sought a solution."
With a gentle wave of her hand, she continued, her voice carrying the weight of centuries. "Thus, I offered myself to become the spirit of this bow. Through my quirk ability, Soulforge, I am able to inhabit the weapon and observe its wielders."
Lucien's impulsive words cut through the air, carrying an unexpected sting. "How on earth is this old hag not dead yet," he blurted out, the sharpness of his tone betraying his lack of hesitation.
The shock on both Heinrich and Silvia's faces was palpable, their expressions frozen in disbelief at such blatant disrespect. Silvia, taken aback by the derogatory term, narrowed her eyes in response. "Old hag, hmm?" she murmured, a vein pulsing with barely contained fury.
With a sudden surge of dark ominous force, Silvia's retaliation was swift and merciless. The room trembled as the energy coalesced into a forceful strike, leaving Lucien reeling from the impact. Heinrich, his worry evident in his expression, could only watch in helpless dismay as his grandson bore the brunt of Silvia's wrath.
After what seemed like an eternity of relentless punishment, Lucien, battered and bruised, sank to his knees. Bowing his head slightly, he spoke with genuine contrition. "I am truly sorry, madam," he murmured, his voice heavy with remorse.
Silvia, her anger still simmering beneath the surface, turned her head away with a disdainful huff, her silence speaking volumes.
The atmosphere in the room tensed as Heinrich addressed Silvia, the spirit residing within Starvol, seeking her understanding and cooperation despite Lucien's disrespectful behavior.
"I wish you'd ignore my grandson's disrespectful behavior and let it pass, Grandma," Heinrich implored, his tone tinged with a sense of urgency. "I'm certain you understand the significance of why you've been summoned here today."
Silvia, her gaze steady, responded with a hint of curiosity, "The bestowal ceremony?"
Heinrich nodded solemnly, affirming her question. "Yes, precisely. Today, I intend to bestow Starvol upon Lucien."