Click!
The sound of the reacting door-lock echoed through the corridors of the dark, vacant house.
Squeak...!
As the door opened, the subsequent echoes proceeded to break the peaceful silence that consumed the building for the entire day. With a flick of a switch, the hall of the house illuminated with a warm bright glow. The marble and maroon walls glistened, reacting to the sudden shift from the evening dusk. With the hall lit, a female figure stepped through into the foyer casually, slipping off her heeled footwear and discarding them in a shoe pocket positioned beside her.
"*Sigh...!* Heels are overrated."
After a moment of massaging her aching feet, the tired woman stepped forward into the hall. Her long, sleek jet-black hair swayed loosely on her shoulders, a sense of freedom and tranquillity seeping out from her lingering aura. Her formal attire consisted of everything required for a business suit: a simple black blazer over a light blank shirt; a platinum-silver necktie; and matching black trousers. Whilst efficient in appearance for an office worker, the black-haired woman felt uncomfortable and restrictive. In her mind, she could only blame her conditioning to her preferred battle-attire, comparing any formalwear to a straight-jacket.
As she passed the stairway on her right, the woman halted. Her eyes were fixated on the tall, refined mirror hanging on the maroon wall beside her, examining her reflection in detail. She first noticed her half-open, lifeless bright-green eyes in addition to the subtle wrinkles breaking through her light make-up. Her shoulders and sapphire wings were also slouched, feeling as though the weight of the world was dragging her down. Whilst the rest of her seemed acceptable in a sociable environment, there was no doubt that long-term fatigue had set in.
It only begged the question: How could something as simple as every-day life get the best of Terra Nitro?
Considering her lifelong status as the 'High-Rise Mercenary' along with her numerous contributions to Dragora over the years, it seemed abnormal for her to tire out after a mundane day at her dreary office job. In the end, her appearance only proved that the typical everyday lifestyle never suited her, causing her to question her career choices.
Brushing the thought aside with a hasty headshake, Terra turned and opened the sliding door to the living room, overcome with desperation to rest her feet on the sofa. The living room was what anyone would expect for an average home: welcoming, spacious, and comfortable. With a large cinematic screen that was propped securely on the wall ahead; various filled selves, plants and paintings positioned around the room; and leather-bound seats circling and facing the screen: it was the epitome of casual relaxation.
It was at that moment when Terra yawned out, her hidden drowsiness finally breaking out. However, as she eyed up the main central sofa, she found it already occupied.
"Ah! Welcome back, Mum."
Denzo Nitro greeted his mother with an innocent smile as he laid on the sofa, a digital tablet resting on his lap playing an online video.
Terra stood frozen solid; her eyes sharpened as she stared at her eldest son in scorn. Denzo felt a sudden shiver crawl up his spine. He sat up gradually, eyes watching his mother with abrupt caution. Eventually, Terra spoke her mind, her tone dark and harrowing.
"…You're in my rest space."
Denzo hesitated as he realised the purpose behind her all-too familiar glare.
"Wha-…? B-but there's other– AH!"
WHAM!
Before he could finish his response, Terra had lost patience and tipped over the sofa from behind. Her movement was swift, allowing Denzo no time to react before realising he was lying flat on the floor already. Upon adjusting the sofa to its original placement, Terra threw herself on top in a flash. She found her optimum comfort position, lying against the warm leather with her head resting against the fluffed pillow. Feeling everything was right with the world once again, Terra sighed out in relief as she proceeded to rest her eyes.
"Was that really necessary?" Denzo groaned out irritably, rising to his feet whilst checking his device. "You do realise I could've broken the tablet."
"Not my problem." Terra responded with a cunning grin. "You forgot the golden rule: The Queen takes priority the moment she enters the door."
Denzo stared at her with an unconvinced expression.
"You made that up." He murmured judgingly.
"Yeah, well ... sue me." Terra laughed, refusing to move from her position.
Finding his mother's response irritating, Denzo gave up attempting to reclaim the sofa. Instead, he shifted towards the hall gradually, manoeuvring out of sight before his mother noticed something was missing.
"Denzo, quick question before you hide away in your room…" Terra then called out to him, an eye peeking suspiciously as she watched him shift away. "Where's your brother?"
Denzo froze up on the spot, his teeth clenched as his eyes fixated on the hall in front of him. She saw right through him. Cursing the misjudgement of his mother's intuition, he switched back to her with an oblivious expression.
"I haven't seen him come back yet." Denzo admitted innocently. "You know what he's like. He probably fell asleep at Grand Falcon's Peak again."
"Is that so...?" Terra nodded casually, yet the undertone of her voice harboured distrust in her elder son. "So ... why's your guilty expression telling me a different story?"
Jolt!
Denzo shuddered as he realised he was caught red-handed, stuck in a corner with no hope of escape. He juggled his only options hastily: the ideal course of action for both him and his brother was to admit the entire truth, accepting fate with heads held high; however, there was also the option of only admitting to his brother's fault, saving himself from the grief in the process; whilst another option was to only admit to his own fault and allow his brother to escape further torment; finally, he could just stay ignorant about the entire mess and let his brother deal with the fallout.
One glance of his mother's piercing glare, Denzo felt his mind buckle under the abrupt pressure. For a brief time, he considered the second option. Terra sat up on the sofa and hunched forward, refusing to divert her attention from her son until she received the desired answer. With a clenched jaw, Denzo cursed himself as he stuck to his ignorance.
"As I said, I assume he's chilling at Grand Falcon's Peak." Denzo then stated as he shrugged his shoulders, turning away from his mother before she attempted to pry him any further. "Aside from that ... I have no idea."
Terra shook her head in dissatisfaction, believing her eldest son was lying through his teeth. She knew her son all too well. From her previous confrontations, Denzo would act oblivious or ignorant on the matter, using whatever method possible to avoid the subject – and his guilt – entirely. However, his expressions and hesitation were enough for her to prove he was searching for an escape. And so, all she needed to do was wait for her younger son to return home.
Click!
Denzo, who had entered the hall during that time, switched back and called out to her.
"Ah-hah! See, Mum, you can ask him about the-!"
CRASH!!!
"OOF!"
Terra shot up from the sofa in a sudden startle, noticing a swift blur tackle Denzo off his feet before hearing the loud collision. However, instead of running out to investigate the commotion, she just sighed out tiresomely before stepping out to the hall. She was far too tired for the nonsense, and she already had an idea of the situation.
"What a drag..." She groaned underneath her breath.
In the hall, Denzo was pinned against the corner by the collar of his loose shirt, standing on the tips of his toes due to the immense force pressed up against him. With his forehead moist with sweat and tension in his bones, Denzo accepted he was doomed from the start. Standing opposite him was an irate Zaron, his bloodshot gaze beyond the point of reason.
"Hey, Denzo ... how's life?" Zaron greeted in an eerie murmured, a menacing aura emulating from his body.
"P-pretty swell, I guess..." Denzo stuttered in response, bracing for the inevitable storm. "Why'd you ask...?"
"Oh. No reason." Zaron then shrugged before feeling the odd desire to recount his point-of-view of the recent events. "It's just that you threw the pendant off the cliff … and then you threw me off the cliff soon after ... and then, when I return with the pendant..."
His tone then switched.
"YOU'RE NOWHERE TO BE FOUND!!!" He bellowed out abruptly in unyielding fury. "I SWEAR KARMA WILL BITE YOU IN THE ARSE ONE DAY, DENZO!!!"
"Ouch … okay, I get it. There's no need to yell." Denzo responded back calmly as he winced, shaking his head to stop the ringing in his ears. "All I did was follow the rules of the game. You were down there for far more than an hour, so … I just don't see the problem."
"Game…? You and that game almost had me killed!" Zaron yelled back in detest. "You have NO IDEA what I went through to get that damn pendant back!"
"Ahh…! Then shall we consider your survival as a complimentary prize?" Denzo suggested teasingly, grinning innocently to keep up appearances.
Zaron was left speechless, finding Denzo's disregard of sincerity disturbing. With his expression frozen and body shaking, the younger Nitro snapped.
"..."
He shoulders slumped, loosening his grasp on his brother's collar. Denzo watched him cautiously, confused with such a reaction. He knew he had crossed the line yet was unsure how his younger brother would react.
Clench...!
Without warning, Zaron tensed up and lashed out at his brother, his eyes enflamed with demonic fury. Denzo had no time to react as he witnessed his brother's fist close in on him in a snap, neither able to dodge nor brace for the inevitable impact. All he could do was close his eyes and pray for a miracle that would prevent the inevitable pain waiting for him on the other end. That miracle arrived – but with its own consequences.
Grab...!
Zaron's swift fist was restrained inches before reaching Denzo's eye, a hand clasped over his knuckle. Firmly. Zaron froze abruptly, shifting his glance as his expression twisted into horror. At the same time, Denzo opened his eyes. He wondered what prevented Zaron's ruthless strike yet was unsure if his brother decided to delay it to mess with him. However, what the older Nitro found was astronomically worse.
Terra stood between the two brothers, her glare dawning upon them like a blood-famished beast. Zaron and Denzo both gave a breathless whimper simultaneously, bodies frozen with unbound fear. For a moment, the two had forgotten that their mother was nearby, watching the event unfold from a safe distance.
At first, Terra was contempt in hearing the argument, intrigued to hear the details of Zaron's small adventure. And then, upon noticing the situation turning violent, she intervened immediately. She stood switching between her two sons, glaring at both with unmerciful eyes. And then, she took further action.
Flick. Flick.
"ACK!"
"Ow."
She struck the two with simple flicks to the forehead each, causing the brothers to disperse reactively. After stepping back, Zaron soothed the sore area of his forehead, groaning in irritable pain. On the other hand, Denzo simply turned away quietly and soothed his own, hiding his expression from the two standing before him. The two switched to their mother to complain, only to notice a finger pointing towards the stairway.
"I'll speak to the both of you individually later." Terra exclaimed in a stubborn grumble, suggesting the two head to their own rooms and cool down.
Denzo was the first to comply, slipping between the two before climbing up the stairs without another word. Zaron watched him disappear, dumbfounded that his brother's unexpected compliance – a trait he never expected to witness from Denzo. However, he then shifted his attention back to his own predicament, considering an argument to defend his case. If he were to explain everything that occurred throughout the past few hours, there was a higher likelihood that he would escape his mother's understandable wrath. On the other hand, he was faced with two crucial issues.
The first was the matter of the pendant. No matter how he would spin his explanation, it was impossible to deny the fact that he 'borrowed' the pendant without permission. The second was the absurdity of the entire scenario. It was a tall order for his mother to believe that he wrestled an enraged Venxe; was chased by a flock of unidentified razor-winged creatures; and challenged a deity to a game over the ownership the pendant. Ultimately, Zaron chose it best to comply with his mother's command and stay in his bedroom.
Grab!
And then, just as he stepped towards the stairway, a hand clamped down on his shoulder and prevented him from stepping further. As the younger Nitro turned, he noticed his mother glaring at him with soul piercing eyes, her other hand held out to him as though expecting to receive an item of interest. Zaron stared back with a blank, oblivious expression.
"Don't act dumb, Zaron. You know exactly what I want returned to me." Terra demanded, refusing to divert her attention.
Zaron's dropped his facade immediately, feeling defeated as he unclipped the hidden chained pendant from around his neck. Without a word, Terra snatched the pendant from him before releasing her clamped hand over Zaron's shoulder. Free from her clutches, Zaron disappeared up the stairs within seconds of release.
Terra watched him as he vanished, shaking her head in dissatisfaction. Now alone in the hall of the Nitro residence, Terra glanced down at the pendant in her palm, lost in her own thoughts as the emerald laid peacefully in her possession. She muttered underneath her breath bitterly.
"Crap … he accepted her request."
***
Boom-boom-boom! SLAM!
The pouting Zaron stomped into his bedroom in a fit of rage, throwing himself onto his bed without a care in the world. His body sunk against the firm yet comfortable mattress instantly, wings and limbs spread out freely to enjoy the maximum comfort. With the fresh aroma of his pillow and bed engulfing him, Zaron felt like he was truly back home.
The young Nitro then unhooked the pair of headphones from around the back of his neck, believing they were useless to him after his smartphone was smashed beyond repair. He placed them aside on the bedside desk along with the remains of the phone. He avoided eyeing the smashed device, the bitter taste still fresh from the encounter with the Venxe. Finally, he slipped out of his jacket, chucking it to the foot of the bed out of laziness. He felt bad for leaving it in such a state considering Enva had removed the blood from the fabric, yet he had no motivation left after dealing with the last few hours.
And so, lying back with his head rested one his hands, the young Draiken was left to his own thoughts. All he could think about was the entire fiasco at Selon Anora, his mind racing through the events like clockwork. Although his arm had recovered, the unbearable pain from the Venxe's crushing body and Enva's subsequent healing technique was still fresh in his mind. Additionally, he could still imagine the Ptarro chasing him as he raced up the spiral staircase in desperate haste. The whole experience was terrifying on reflection, unable to believe his reason for survival was anything other than luck.
Deciding to distract his lingering thoughts, Zaron turned and observed his room vacantly. The state of his bedroom was as expected for someone of his age: The floor was a mess, scruffy clothes were piled up in the far corner of the room as it awaited the day to be collected and washed; shelves were aligned on the wall above his work desk, filled almost entirely with leisurely books, comics, movies, and videogames that met his interests; finally, the desk itself was covered with unkempt assignment papers and textbooks, all surrounding his high-end gaming PC.
Zaron then tilted his head up, gazing towards the ceiling above with distant eyes. In that moment, his eyes drooped.
The young Draiken realised the fatigue from today's events had crept up on him, weighing down on his consciousness like a sack of boulders. He had assumed that the looming exhaustion had dissipated after he fell unconscious. However, it was apparent that he was far from fully recuperated, only delaying the inevitable lethargy that would meet him at the finish line. Drawing in a deep yawn and blinking endlessly, Zaron's mind fell into the depths of limbo. As he drifted, he was reminded of his earlier encounter with the Goddess Enva.
The entire situation still felt surreal to him, holding up his once crushed arm and moving it around freely in wonder of how it was all possible. He even wondered if he was stuck in a dream, wondering if he would switch back to the reality where he was still lying down on the edge of Grand Falcon's Peak.
Regardless, upon lowering his arm, Zaron fell into deep, blissful slumber.
***
"Nngh…! Arm feels stiff."
As he slipped on his jacket, Zaron winced.
His restored arm was struggling to move, its joints aching with every shift and twitch.
"Hm-hmm…! No surprise there." Enva concurred with an expecting smirk. "The stiffness was inevitable. I was able to heal that arm … but that doesn't resolve the aftereffects from the lack of movement. So, for now, just keep moving your joints and it'll ease up in no time."
Zaron nodded in understanding of the goddess' words, stretching and rotating his stiff arm carefully as the feeling in the limb returned to him.
The young Draiken was standing in front of the throne, the vast dome of Selon Anora's eclipsing over him with the evening amber glow – indicating that it was only mere moments before the sun sets. The Goddess stood next to him, her hands behind her back and her pure light eyes illuminated as she watched the boy continued to exercise his limb. She was beaming at him, her heart warmed by his acceptance for undertaking her demanding request. The doubts and fears looming over her head about him rejecting her was now replaced with hope and optimism entirely. She could only imagine the possibilities and opportunities at Zaron's disposal upon taking on the venture.
Ignoring the Goddess' abnormal, energetic aura, Zaron stepped over to the dome's entrance. His thoughts pondered continuously on the impending task set by the Goddess, the overwhelming responsibilities and potential consequences looming in his mind. No matter the approach in his task, he was aware that his efforts could fall to pieces with one simple mistake. And yet, he was optimistic, feeling as though there was a glimmer of hope at the end of the tunnel. He could imagine the results of his efforts: Humesa and Dragora reopening their reinforced borders after so many years, and society's progression as a whole escalating to levels beyond comprehension.
No more would Dragora struggle to evolve. No more would the Draiken avoid the desire to expand and discover what the rest of the world had yet to reveal. No more would the crippling bitterness and disdain loom over the two proud nations. It was a gargantuan order in retrospect, yet Zaron believed he could succeed if he played his cards right.
"Are you ready to set off?" Enva questioned curiously, following him to the entrance of the dome. "Yeah, I'm certain." Zaron returned with a determined nod, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
Enva smirked, welcoming his renewed sense of confidence with open arms.
"Just to be on the safe side, my existence and our meeting will stay confidential." The Goddess then pointed out. "The only exception will be those who'll support you directly throughout your task."
"Would my family count as an exception?" Zaron wondered in response, ensuring he knew the level of confidentiality she required.
Twitch!
Just then, Zaron noticed Enva's abrupt jolt upon hearing him mention his family, although her straightened posture and pleasant expression remained the same.
"I would prefer for them ... not to know about our conversation." She proceeded to suggest, a slight hesitancy in her tone as she answered. "At least, for now..."
(For now...?)
Zaron stared at her oddly as her last words echoed in his mind, wondering if she had a complicated history with his family based upon her reluctant answer. However, another thought clouded over him, causing the Draiken boy to lower his gaze. Enva tilted her head curiously, her long platinum-silver hair dangling freely as she wondered what was bothering him.
"Is there something on your mind?" She then asked him.
"Yeah, you could say that…" Zaron chuckled hesitantly, mindful that the irritable thought was just an inconvenience.
"Well, ask away." Enva shrugged nonchalantly in response, ready for anything the young Draiken had to throw at her.
Zaron turned to her directly as he decided to speak his mind. "You spoke of my confrontation with the Venxe as a test of 'physical prowess' and 'resilience to high-risk confrontation'..." Zaron reflected, placing context in his predicament. "The thing is ... during its assault, the Venxe was close to finish me off after it crushed my arm. But, it just stopped for some reason. It acted as though it was terrified, and then scurried off with its tail between its legs. It seemed far too out of character for a Venxe to run off like that. So, I was just wondering … Did you command the Venxe to stop attacking me?"
Enva understood the purpose of his question, nodding without a word. The conclusion of Zaron's encounter with the beast was an unorthodox scenario. It was abnormal for the beast to change its predatory habits so abruptly. She had every intention to explain the cause of the occurrence to Zaron, believing he deserved an answer. However, she could only shake her head, also at a loss on why the Venxe turned tail and escaped.
"No, I didn't order the Venxe to stop." She admitted to him in honesty. "I wish I could tell you what happened, but ... I'm as clueless as you are."
Zaron paused as he took in her answer, unsure on how to respond as he lost his train of thought.
"Wait a minute...! I thought deities were omniscient." He then pointed out as he noticed the contradiction.
"Oh, we are." Enva assured him swiftly, defending her position yet opting not to elaborate.
"I see..."
Zaron was left to sigh in disappointment, more questions forming in his mind. As she watched him show a confused pout, the Goddess used the opportunity to change subject.
"I'm sure you're already aware, but..." She murmured in warning. "Never face the journey alone, no matter the challenges and setbacks you may face."
Upon hearing her words of advice, Zaron gave the Goddess a sincere nod. A grin formed across his face, an aura of certainty encased around him as he responded in confidence.
"No worries, I have someone in mind who would be perfect for the job…"
***
A few hours had passed since Zaron had drifted into the realm of slumber, the world outside his bedroom window now engulfed with the darkness of the clear night, galaxy-filled sky. The room was in complete silence, not a hint of a sound from wind or any known nocturnal animal.
Zaron shuffled within his cosy bed drowsily, his body spread out in an odd position whilst he was facing downwards against the fluffed-up pillows and mattress. With his face half-concealed into the depths of the pillow, a long, drawn-out yawn escaped him. The young Draiken felt himself resurrect, edging between dream and reality. With his body at maximum comfort, it was near-impossible to break himself out of its enticing grasps.
However, Zaron forced himself eventually to sit up, groaning wearily as he rose. Shaking himself off, he glanced towards the open window momentarily, observing the infinite stars and distant planets that covered the night sky. He stared out in awe, mesmerised the ambient scenery displayed above.
"Mm … thirsty."
Feeling his throat dry, Zaron stood up from his bed groggily. He was oblivious to the current time, believing it was far passed the stroke of midnight through a baseless guess. Ignoring his scruffy clothing and jet-black bed-head hair, he staggered towards his bedroom door in a dreamlike state. He then opened the door.
"AH-HAH! So, you're finally awake!"
"WAH-!!!"
Zaron leapt out of his skin as he yelled out in fright, almost losing his balance entirely with only the wall beside him to prevent his fall. With his facing falling pale and eyes wide with shock, he glared at the perpetrator in scorn.
"Mum, what was THAT for?!" He yelled in bewilderment as he tried to calm his racing heart. "You nearly gave me a damn heart attack!"
His mother, Terra, stood before the door's opening with arms crossed and a giggling smirk, her amusement in full view. Out of her business suit and in her casual attire, her entire demeanour switched completely. She was sporting a pair of simple yet comfortable grey cotton joggers and a simple dark-blue top – her ideal combination for home comfort.
"Heh-heh-hee...! Your reaction was priceless." His mother teased as she continued to chuckle. "I have to admit, it was worth the wait."
"Tsk! You're as bad as Denzo..." Zaron muttered with rolling eyes, straightening himself up and fixing his composure in the process. "How long were you waiting?"
"Umm ... I would say about ten minutes." She shrugged casually, "I was thinking of waking you up but then I thought: 'Nah...! Why not wait a bit longer?'"
"And ... what was the purpose of you wanting to wake me up at such an hour?" Zaron then pursued cautiously, suspicious of his mother's playful approach.
He was correct to tread caution. What followed was Terra pointing down the stairwell, her gaze suddenly shifting from her initial light attitude to a serious tone.
"We would like a few words with you … downstairs."
(We...?)
Zaron had expected her to only refer to herself, yet he wondered if she had changed her mind and allowed for Denzo to be involved with the conversation. Before he could ask, his mother had already turned and directed herself towards the stairs, ushering him to follow. Without another word, the confused Zaron followed her.
Terra and Zaron proceeded down the stairs and through the hall, passing the living room and straight towards the dining area and connected kitchen. With his hands in his pockets and bloodshot eyes stinging in desire to go back to bed, the hunched Zaron struggled to focus ahead. His mind was riddled with uncertainty along with the desperation to quench his first, causing him to glance at his mother with a questioning expression. Although he held his silence, Zaron was wondering where his mother was leading him, first assuming it was to the living room only to proven wrong as they passed. He then thought the dining room would be their meeting point, considering the ideal seating arrangement. And yet, both guesses were incorrect. Instead, one door remained: at the back end of the kitchen was a door that led into the house's open courtyard.
Seizing the only available opportunity, Zaron diverted from following his mother and swiped a milk carton from the kitchen's fridge. He gulped down the contents in its entirety, consumed by the overwhelming sense of quenched relief. However, as he threw away the carton into the nearby recycle-bin, the young Draiken felt a judging glare stabbed into him. He switched back awkwardly to find his mother waiting for him at the door to the courtyard, her arms crossed and eyes half-open as she watched her son gulp down the entire carton of milk.
"Are you done?" She questioned in a groaning murmur, her patience lacking.
"Yeah ... sorry." Zaron responded guiltily, feeling bloated yet satisfied with the refreshment.
With that, he rushed back to his mother and followed her out into the courtyard. The courtyard of the Nitro residence was one of the most stimulating aspects to the house: the central section was open and spacious, allowing youths the free range to run, play, and fantasize, whilst also catering for adults who required the space to relax, focus, and train at their own leisure. Additionally, there was a small woodland area spanning the backend boundary of the entire courtyard, a line of trees towering over the courtyard as though observing the neighbourhood gracefully. Whilst only a minor fraction of the size compared to the forest surrounding Selon Anora, the small woodland was the perfect utopia for a child's mindless adventures. It was a regular occurrence to see a youthful Zaron explore every nook and cranny of the woodland, hoping to find untouched secrets and hidden tunnel-systems – mostly to no avail. It was a fond aspect of his childhood, whether it was with friends or even Denzo – at least, during the times they were not at each other's throats.
As he stepped onto the courtyard patio, Zaron halted in his tracks, staring ahead blankly as he felt the fresh breeze pass him.
He was taken aback by the familiar silhouette standing before him, blinking several times to ensure his was not playing tricks on him. Even though it was hard to grasp the detail, the figure wore an eloquent suit hidden under an elongated cloak, expressing the role of a leader posed in glory. The silhouette matched up to the charm: from the short-combed light-brown hair; to the overall neatness of his attire; to the proud physique that emulated his entire body. Even his silver-scaled wings were pepped up in glory, emulating a polished sheen as it reflected the pale moonlight.
And yet, one aspect to the figure seemed glaringly out of place, as though tainting the perfect image. Resting on his right shoulder was an enlarged, curve-bladed broadsword, stabilised with a locked grasp of his right hand. The weapon reflected the moonlight as it rested, displaying its unscathed appearance to anyone admiring its beauty. It was a magnificent sight if not for the odd contrasting style of its wielder.
"Dad, if people saw you posing like that, your reputation would plummet in a heartbeat." Zaron commented bluntly, rolling his eyes in cringe-worthy anguish. "...Along with my sympathy."
Terra switched away as she was caught off-guard by Zaron's comment, hiding her silent chuckles desperately as to not ruin the mood. On the other hand, the silhouette turned and faced the Draiken boy, reacting to the comment with a raised yet amused brow.
"Now that was uncalled for." He complained playfully, a hint of bitterness escaping his voice. "Here I was hoping my dear son would welcome his own father home after a long, tiring journey ... and this is what I'm greeted with?"
The silhouette stepped up to show himself in full detail, his body embracing the moonlight's aura. As he stepped in view, Zaron noticed the ruggedness and battle-worn scars covering the man's face, showing off his war-wounds like trophies collected over the course of his life.
The father to both Denzo and Zaron; husband to Terra; and the bestowed War-Hero of Dragora: Virion Nitro was a man of legend. Even before the War of Nations, the entirety of Dragora – and even Humesa to an extent – knew his name, whether they appreciated his presence or otherwise. He was once the leader of an elite team of individuals known as the 'Xaphire's Ultima', formed to protect the two nations from the plethora of threats that plagued society on a regular basis. Ranging from a measly beast or a delinquent gang causing public disturbances; to overthrowing notorious underground organizations with illegal trafficking or distribution of questionable substances; to preventing an apocalyptic nightmare: the Xaphire's Ultima were an unstoppable force of nature that no sane individual would dare to oppose.
However, upon the breakout of war, the Ultima were torn apart by their respective nations. With the conflict raging on, Virion led the charge as a core Draiken Commander, deemed as Dragora's primary 'weapon' to decimate the enemy forces and cripple Humesa permanently. Alongside him, Terra also fought in the war effort, acting as a primary lone wolf to sabotage enemy factions and thwart their plans before they could cause harm unto the allies and the innocence.
With the bloodshed and devastation that raged for years and claimed the lives of millions, Virion and Terra's survival was a miracle for the Draiken. Praises were sung throughout the nation, awards and titles were issued within days, and the names of both Virion and Terra Nitro were etched into the history books. Evidently, Virion was elated by the praise and recognition, wearing it on his sleeves in pride. On the other hand, Terra was indifferent, preferring her privacy over fame and fortune. And at times, both Zaron and Denzo could not walk the street without being noticed as the Nitro family's 'treasured offspring' – much to their never-ending annoyance.
Returning to present day, Virion scoffed at his son, acting as though he was entitled to be showered with attention and praise by his family at every waking moment he existed in their lives.
"I swear your generation is just full of ignorance." He continued in his complaint. "At least your mother would take the time to welcome me home. Isn't that right, Terra?"
With her attention drifted off elsewhere, Terra switched back to her husband in a small startle.
"Hm? Yeah, sure … good luck with that one." She muttered as she shrugged off Virion's request for support carelessly, returning to staring off towards the galaxy-filled sky above.
Like a sudden stab to the heart, Virion's once proud stance now drooped with a discourage yet exaggerated groan.
"The world's failed me…"
Zaron noticed his mother rolling her eyes at her husband's cringe-worthy attempt of dramatic expression. Following his mother's reaction, the young Nitro also found his father's forced acting overbearing and unnecessary, feeling that satisfying his ego would only lead to further annoyance for the foreseeable future. He then decided to retort with an aspect of truth.
"Maybe we would be more appreciative if you actually told us where you flew off to for the past month." Zaron informed him, finding irony in his father's comment. "…Along with all the other times you've disappeared miraculously."
Upon hearing Zaron's point, Terra was equally curious to know of Virion's travels, feeling his prior excuses were far too vague and convenient. Her eyes sharpened as she locked on to her husband slyly, expecting another excuse from the master of excuses.
The Nitro family were always aware and accepting of Virion's regular disappearances, casting any issues aside as a 'hero fulfilling his duty'. However, details of Virion's whereabouts grew vague as his disappearances lengthened overtime, causing Terra to grow concerned and anxious whilst Zaron and Denzo questioned the purpose of his long trips. The current evening was no different, Virion returned with no prior indication and acted as though he never left. Whilst Terra was overjoyed to see him home, there was a hint of uncertainty boggling her mind regarding his mysterious circumstances. Additionally, what escalated the issue was that Virion had not spoken a word of his recent journey, avoiding any of Terra's questions on the topic.
She watched Virion's response to Zaron's comment carefully, expecting the typical vague excuses she had heard countless times already.
"Ah-hah...! I could tell you, but then I'd break confidentiality." Virion chuckled playfully, avoiding the topic like a steel trap. "...And I'd rather we all avoided the consequences."
(Once again, he dodges the question so masterfully…)
Terra sighed out as her mind echoed, her agitated mood resurfacing.
(If only he was 'that' skilled at dodging during actual combat.)
However, Virion's next words caught both Zaron and Terra by surprise.
"Besides … we're not here to talk about that."
"What do you mean?" Zaron questioned obliviously, although the image of the pendant flashed in his mind.
"There's no point acting clueless, Zaron … he already knows." Terra then murmured in the background, preferring to skip the needless filler.
In that moment, Virion held out his clenched free hand. As Zaron watched the hand open, he felt his body tense up automatically upon noticing the familiar chain emerge. The emerald pendant sat peacefully in the possession of its true bearer, illuminated gracefully by the everlasting moonlight from above. The young Draiken then turned away awkwardly; his expression filled with guilt. There was a moment of silence between the three, both Virion and Terra staring at their son as they awaited a response from him.
"Zaron..." Virion sighed.
Zaron yielded.
"Alright, I get it already. I'm sorry." He responded in confession. "I messed up. I took the pendant without permission. And Denzo … well, I'm sure you've already heard his side of the story."
Virion and Terra glanced towards one another with curious smirks, deciding not to speak a word as they listened to their son.
"B-but...! At least I was able to bring it back safe, right?" Zaron continued, using whatever excuse he could conjure up to convince them. "The fact that it isn't damaged at all must surely account for something-!"
"Enough."
Virion interrupted with a clear command, causing Zaron to stop mid-sentence. The young Draiken then noticed both his father and mother were showing no signs of anger and disappointment. Instead, Terra was gazing at him with a warm, motherly smile, whilst Virion was chuckling away silently. Zaron gazed at the two in blind confusion, feeling as though he was out of the loop to their inside joke.
"As you said, we heard everything from Denzo earlier." Virion clarified with an amused grin.
"Don't worry, he told us the actual truth this time." Terra concurred with a quiet chuckle. "It took time … but we got it out of him eventually."
Zaron froze up like a statue, staring blankly at his two parents as his mind connected the dots. He felt as though they were playing him for a fool, entertained by him admitting to his guilt only for him to realise he wasted his time. Furthermore, he was perplexed by the thought of his brother admitting to the entire truth of the situation without spinning his excuses. It caused him to wonder what extent his parents knew of his pursuit to reclaim the pendant.
"On the one hand, there are consequences for taking the pendant without our permission." Virion warned initially, shaking his head in disapproval. "Losing something of that value would've been ... devastating."
Zaron shuddered in response, feeling as though he was stabbed in the heart with guilt.
"On the other hand ... we can't overlook the lengths you took to retrieve it." His father then acknowledged. "The forest surrounding Selon Anora is no easy walk in the park. And truth be told ... we're impressed."
"…Come again?"
Zaron thought he had heard his father wrong, wondering if he was still dreaming.
"Izukara Forest is a death-trap." Terra informed her son bluntly, leaving out no detail. "There are many reasons why that forest is prohibited – mostly relating to preservation. But it's also due to the deadly wildlife ... including a very cranky Venxe."
Twitch!
Hearing that last word sent Zaron's mind into despair, reflecting on his experience against the infamous beast. He opted to avoid any mention of his encounter, believing it would only cause further complications.
"So, we both discussed and came to a decision that it's time for you to have an overdue upgrade." Virion announced with an ecstatic grin. "No one knows what the future holds, and – well – the worst thing you could do is go on unprepared."
"Wait, what do you mean by-?"
Zaron held his tongue before finishing his question, his eyes widened abruptly as he eyed the weapon resting proudly on his father's shoulder. As though it was all staged beforehand, the young Draiken watched as the iconic broadsword was lifted from its perch and struck down against the grass-covered earth.
Stab!
As it dug into the ground firmly, Virion stepped back and flexed his shoulder as though soothing it from carrying the weight for so long. Zaron stared at the blade in front of him with both awe and uncertainty, taken aback by the unexpected turn of events. A part of him still believed he was in a dream, feeling baffled by the speed of events occurring before him. He then wondered cautiously as he stepped forward.
(Do they know…?)
He was in two minds whether to reveal his interaction with the Goddess Enva or keep it private from his parents. One half of his mind was inclined to tell them, believing they were at least aware of his encounter with the mysterious deity along with the confidential subject matter. However, the other half was hesitant, both out of respect for Enva's request to keep the matter secret along with the uncertainty of his parents' mind-sets on the matter.
Step ... step...
Grab.
With his gaze set on the large blade before him, Zaron grasped its hilt firmly and lifted it from the ground. As expected for a weapon of this size and magnitude, it was preposterously heavy to the point that it was laughable. How any average person would be able to wield such a hefty weapon was beyond him, imagining many poor souls breaking themselves apart to lift it from a pedestal. And yet, Zaron was caught blindsided as he held the magnificent blade with surprising ease. He was at a loss, reflecting on the many times he attempted to lift it in the past. From as young as five years old all the way up to just a few months ago, all he could remember from his attempts was failure and frustration. And yet, here he stood, the broadsword held out in his grasp without a hint of difficulty wielding it. With a sudden boost of tension in his muscles, Zaron felt his spirits elevate, feeling as though he was accepted as its new master.
"...Artoria." Virion's voice murmured in echo, revealing its true name with a prideful tone. "Known to all as Dragora's mightiest weapon. Its powerful enough to withstand considerable depths of force; its sharpness can slice through even the toughest of materials without resistance, and its swift design allows it to swing with great ease: but only to those who are worthy."
As stated by Virion, the Artoria blade was a weapon that would decide its master based on various circumstances relating to the wielder's actions and legacy. There were many theories and rumours that circulated over the possible functions of the blade: many theorised that it was a sentient weapon, believing a soul of great significance rested inside to ensure the blade was cared for by a suitable wielder; whilst others were more inclined to believe that the blade was mechanised to determine its wielder through fingerprints and DNA identity. However, there was no true logical explanation behind the blade's unique functionality – at least, beyond what was already public information.
Zaron held up the blade towards the star-filled sky above, testing its weight and balance continuously as he attempted to rationalise the idea that his father's legendary weapon was now an integral part of his entity.
"My time as its wielder had long ended." Virion admitted casually with a light sigh, placing his hands in his pockets as he expressed the bittersweet separation. "Over the course of the day, I could feel the weapon growing heavy. By the time I returned home, I even struggled to keep it off the floor."
Lowering the blade to a more comfortable position, Zaron noticed his father's prideful expression waver.
"I knew very quickly that Artoria was rejecting me for a new master." Virion murmured in grief, accepting the outcome solemnly.
Terra averted her gaze, feeling her husband's loss of ownership difficult to accept after the many years it had protected them.
"…Why?" Zaron murmured underneath his breath, his thoughts filled with mixed emotions as he processed the coincidental events that occurred throughout the day. "Why is this happening now? And ... why was I chosen?"
"I have no idea." His father shrugged back in admittance, "I have no control over when or why the Artoria blade decides it's next master. I suppose the only thing that would suffice was your actions on retrieving the pendant."
In that moment, Terra coughed randomly.
"*Koff-koff...!* ...And nepotism... *koff!*"
Zaron stared at his mother in blank confusion, noticing the hidden smirk and chuckling through her forced coughing. Alternatively, Virion switched to his wife with an unimpressed glare.
"...I knew you'd slip that in." He muttered to her with half-open eyes. Terra returned a glanced with a straight face, "I have no idea what you're talking about."
As the two continued to mutter, Zaron was left in his own thoughts.
(My actions…)
His father's words echoed repeatedly in his mind, staring at the large weapon in hand as he wondered if the Goddess had any influence over the blade's decision to shift owners.
"Oi, Zaron."
Upon hearing his name, Zaron snapped back to reality.
"The ball's in your court now." Virion explained sincerely, his tone confident yet his glare tense. "From this point onwards, your actions will bring consequence. The Artoria blade may protect you during physical conflicts, but it's your choices and priorities that'll determine the future."
Zaron felt a sudden cast of dread overshadow him, hints of paranoia creeping into his mind.
"The road ahead will be difficult." His father continued in warning, his tone expressing from personal experience. "I'm sure there'll be many times where your life – and the lives of those close to you – will be on the line. It'll be up to you on how you handle the risks, even when you want to avoid them entirely."
It was a topic the young Nitro expected all too well. And yet, hearing those words spoken by his very own father caused a new level of responsibility to dawn upon him.
"That is the nature of a warrior." Virion concluded finally, awaiting his son's response to the subject.
At first, the Draiken boy was silent, processing the role that had been bestowed upon him. However, he soon spoke his mind as he struggled to hold his composure. "I admit, I'm unsure if I'm up to the challenge…"
"Is that so…?" Virion wondered curiously, intrigued by the comment. "Well ... I'm more than happy to take Artoria back if it's too much of a burden for you."
"Ah-hah-haa…! I think I'll manage." Zaron assured hastily with a forced laugh, trying his best to avoid further complications.
"Tsk...!"
Virion clicked his tongue in disappointment, attempting anything to regain his damaged pride. Terra shook her head disapprovingly, feeling her husband was causing unnecessary banter. And then, with Artoria firm in hand, Zaron felt the need to address a looming issue.
"How're you going to protect yourself without Artoria?"
Virion took a moment to consider the question, his gaze shifting to Terra expectantly.
"Well, I'm sure your mother could lend me one of her battle-knives..."
"Not a chance."
Terra shut him down immediately.
"Argh! How cruel…" Virion gasped as he staggered back in shock, the agonizing result of rejection setting in.
"I'm not giving away one of my battle-knives to a moron who faked his death for dramatic tension." Terra retorted bluntly, refusing to budge her decision. "You can buy a cheap second-hand sword down at the local corner store for all I care."
"They break on the first swing!" Virion argued back in distaste, baffled that she would even suggest such an option. Zaron ignored the squabbling parents, his focus set on the Artoria blade in his grasp. He reflected upon his time with Enva and the task she had set for him, finding further meaning to her words:
("…The task will require actions that will likely change and define you, Zaron … it may even kill you if you're not prepared...")
("… Never face the journey alone.")
With his grip tightening on the hilt of the Artoria blade, Zaron glanced towards his parents as an aura of renewed certainty engulfed him.
"I'm ready for this." He assured with a confident grin.
The two halted their bickering as they were surprised by Zaron's sudden statement. Virion was the first to react, his expression brightened to a proud and satisfied grin. On the other hand, Terra was hesitant momentarily, feeling anxious at the thought of her child accepting his impending role. However, she then accepted his declaration with a humbled smile, believing the eventual outcome was for the best.
"That's what I needed to hear." Virion announced cheerfully, stepping forward as though he was ready to set the plans into motion. "I'll give you four more hours of sleep … then we'll commence with your training."
"Huh?! Wait-...? TRAINING?!" Zaron blurted out abruptly, his previously confidence and optimism dropped instantly.
He fell into bickering with his father over this sudden turn of events, complaining on the hastiness of the plan and the lacking four hours sleep he was allowed before the gruelling training. His father retaliated casually by reminded the boy that he already had a few hours of sleep, reminding him of his atrocious sleeping habit. Terra watched the two with a bored and silent expression, her arms crossed and eyes half-open as she considered heading to bed herself. However, she then noticed a curtain close over within one of house's upper windows, glaring warily towards what she expected was Denzo's window. She assumed Denzo had watched the entire event from the comfort of his room, preferring to avoid the hassle of joining in with the conversation.
"This was almost you, Denzo." Terra murmured underneath her breath. "I wonder how events would've played out if you didn't turn her down..."