Episode 4: The Weight of Legacy
I, Maskin, son of the Jace family, can barely recognize myself in the mirror. Seriously, I look like I've just run a marathon through a swamp. My unkempt hair sticks out in all directions, and my clothes hang on me like a sack of potatoes. The burden of my family's legacy suffocates me. We are one of the five families tasked with defeating the five Evils, but our powers pale in comparison. The most formidable foe, Don Mathius, remains an enigma, wielding abilities beyond comprehension. If he were any more mysterious, he'd be wearing a hooded cloak and speaking in riddles, perhaps while brewing questionable potions in the shadows.
As the eldest of my siblings, I've been chosen to train under the guidance of three esteemed mentors: Mr. Noah, Miss Arie, and Mr. Alias. They, too, have failed to defeat the Evils, which gives me an overwhelming sense of hope—like watching a blindfolded chicken attempt to cross the road. So, great, I'm being trained by a trio of underachievers. No pressure! Now, I'm trapped in this endless cycle of training, desperate to prove myself. My life has become one long series of "why did I sign up for this?" The fate of these cursed Land of Valdora, was in the hands of five children.
This training facility, a sprawling complex of stone walls and towering spires, looms before me like a castle out of an old tale—one filled with glory and brave knights, not a gaggle of unsure youths trying to master their skills. I often find myself standing at the large, arched windows, staring at the sun-dappled training yard below, where aspiring warriors practice their swordplay and casting spells as though they were preparing for a grand tournament. The sounds of clashing swords and thunderous spells echo around me, creating a cacophony that further emphasizes my feelings of inadequacy.
Today, we gathered in the grand training hall, a vast room adorned with banners from each of our families, displaying proud emblems of strength and honor. Mr. Noah, our chief instructor, stood before us, his eyes worn from the weight of his own failures. I mean, they could use a little revitalizing potion, but who am I to judge?
"Hello, students," Mr. Noah began, his voice laced with a mix of hope and resignation. "You hail from great families, but let's face the truth: we've never triumphed over the five Evils." He paused, giving us a moment to process our collective failure before diving into introductions. "Let me introduce you to one another. We have J.D. from Lagar, with his mastery of elemental magic; Rizz from Torsal, skilled in stealth and deception; Zaini from Carnage, wielding the fierce power of the berserkers; Maskin from Jace, with our family's legacy of arcane might; and the illustrious Sami from Venteze, heir to the legendary Venteze bloodline."
As Sami basked in the glow of his own arrogance, I couldn't help but think, "Great, here comes the human embodiment of entitlement."
"Venteze always produces the strongest," Mr. Noah said, clearly trying to butter up the golden child.
Sami flashed a smile that could only be described as "too bright for early morning."
"Why praise him?" I muttered to J.D.
"He's more powerful than us," J.D. whispered back.
I corrected him, a little too defensively, "Not him, his family. We can surpass him if we work together."
Zaini nodded in agreement. "Yet, a Venteze is always chosen for the fight. It's as if our families are mere spectators, like the audience at a bad magic show, clapping politely but wishing they'd just left after the first act."
Sami chimed in, "That's because Venteze has the purest bloodline, untainted by weaker lineage."
I bristled at his words. "Purity of blood doesn't guarantee strength. Our families have produced remarkable warriors."
Rizz spoke up, his tone dripping with sarcasm, "But Sami's family has produced the most legendary warriors. You know, the kind that sings their own praises while riding off into battle."
Sami's smile widened. "Exactly. And I'll carry on that legacy."
My frustration boiled over. "Then why are we here? Let's return home and forget this futile endeavor."
Mr. Alias intervened, his voice firm but laced with a hint of sorrow. "Valdora decreed that one of the five families' members will be selected. You must stay and train. Your families' legacies depend on it."
I seethed, feeling the weight of my family's expectations pressing down on me like a heavy yoke. "Disgusting. We're nothing but pawns in their game."
Later, as the others fawned over Sami, Zaini and I kept our distance, plotting our escape while nibbling on the crumbs of our self-esteem.
Sami approached us, smirking like he had just found the last piece of cake. "Don't you want to be my friends? Together, we can achieve greatness."
I spat, "We're not interested in being your slaves for fame."
Sami sneered, "A Jace will always be second-rate. Your family is weaker than mine."
Zaini stepped forward, his eyes flashing dangerously. "That's enough, Sami. We're not inferior. And at least we don't need a throne to feel good about ourselves."
My anger flared, but Zaini restrained me, his eyes warning me to tread carefully. I could see it now: "Maskin Jace, the first warrior to be defeated by his own rage."
Miss Arie arrived, her presence as commanding as a drill sergeant. "What's going on here? You're here to train together and fight the Evils. Shake hands and become friends."
Sami and I exchanged a reluctant handshake, our eyes locked in a silent challenge, like two cats staring each other down over a prized fish.
As the echoes of the hall faded, I could feel the weight of my family's legacy pressing down on me more than ever. Each passing moment felt like another chain added to my already burdened shoulders. Would I ever rise above this destiny they had crafted for me, or was I destined to merely echo the failures of those before me?
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Written by: Muhammad Abdullah
Edited by: Suleman
Supported by: Zain Ali