1
Aww yeah! I've waited so long for this—let's kick some ass! squealed the bubbly and boisterous young girl internally, as she chomped down on a slice of toast which impromptu served as the barrier preventing her screeches of exhilaration from becoming audible. She slipped into the purple and blue hakama that she'd left hung over the bottom end of her bedframe the night before.
The sun hadn't long since risen to its perch above the clouds, yet she was already wide awake and freshly showered. She bumbled about her messy bedroom, patterning the wooden floorboards with the droplets of water still falling from her toned, tanned figure and tousled bedhead.
"Fena, dear!" her mother called out from below, "We'll need to be leaving in about five minutes, so make sure you've got everything that you'll need."
"I'll be right there, Mom, just a sec!" Fena replied, her husky voice muffled somewhat by the remnants of toast she'd yet to swallow.
Hopping over clothes strewn about the floor and bumping into just about every piece of furniture in her bedroom, Fena paused as she stumbled upon her reflection in the large, purple mirror affixed to her wardrobe.
"I've worked so hard for this chance to earn my place at the academy... Mom's supported me so much... Today, I will succeed."
As she confided within her own reflection, an avalanche of memories flashed right before her eyes. The reflection of herself that she withheld began to dissipate; innumerable pieces of her crumbled and drifted away like sands being swept away by the wind's kiss and in its place a darker, more ominous visage surfaced. Fena grimaced at the sight, "I'm not like you anymore…" she shook her head, refusing to allow the person she once was to hinder the person whom she desperately needed to become.
Her chest swelled right up, like a balloon crammed to the brim with fear and anxiety ready to burst upon the prick of a needle. Fena exhaled a long, drawn out breath, then plunged her small hands into her messy purple hair, grasping it tight as she tied it up. She leaned in toward the mirror, locking eyes with the unwelcome intruder trying to escape from her memories, "I will become a Shinobi... I have to become the strongest. I won't let them take Mom away from us– from me ever again."
Dauntless, despite not having the slightest inclination of whatever or whoever may stand before her and her dream, two blazing hot supernovas burned with the will of a hundred—no, surely a thousand Shinobi, disintegrating the spectre that skulked behind the glass.
"I'll make sure everyone across 'The Four Continents' knows how strong I am. If they still want to make Mom work away from home... then I guess they'll have to take her from me!" Grinning from ear to ear, Fena fist-bumped her defiant reflection in the mirror and then struck a pose reminiscent of a heroic, knuckle-headed Shinobi from her favourite book, thus bringing her motivational soliloquy to a close. She skipped out of her bedroom, humming a tune as she did and then proceeded to rendezvous with her mother downstairs.
She spotted her mother, Melina, waiting by the front door.
Their home wasn't ornate, though it wasn't for a lack of funds or other reasons of the like—Fena simply preferred a cosy living space. The walls were painted a warm, idyllic shade of brown (aside from in Fena's bedroom where she'd insisted on purple) and the harsh creak in some of the floorboards were indicative of their indefatigable service towards keeping the pair's feet dry... Or at least that's an apt way to summarise Fena's fierce rebuttals towards her mother's recent proposals to have them replaced. Decorating the walls, sat comfortably atop drawers and stored just about anywhere else you could find, were photos of the pair.
As was the case more often than not these days, Melina was dressed for a day's work. She sported her typical white lab coat and tied up her lovely brown curls into a messy bun, the picture of a mature and professional woman. She stood slightly shorter than her rapidly growing daughter, making her about five-foot-six. Though her work wear and modest stature hid it well from any who were none-the-wiser, Melina was also a Shinobi in her youth, a Shinobi of the highest calibre and she'd trained Fena in preparation for this very day.
However, today was the start of Fena's journey—tales of her mother's exploits were sure to find their way to her ears sooner or later…
Traipsing down the creaky wooden steps, Fena smiled as she passed by precious memories pressed onto paper, one in particular capturing the moment of sheer shock on her face upon laying eyes on a special gift she'd received for her fourteenth birthday: a beautiful katana made specially by her mother that Fena had named "Bolt," until she noticed that her mother seemed to be preoccupied with something. An otherworldly, faint blue light emitted from the tip of her index finger; a light that Fena knew very well, given her complicated relationship with it, "Essence". Her mother intricately traced what looked to be the sheath of a blade with her index finger.
Fena's skip instantly ground to a halt. She was certain that she'd recognized the blade her mother held but batted the thought away in an instant.
Is she mumbling something to herself? Fena thought.
"...Mom?" Fena called out.
"O-oh! S-sorry dear—spaced out for a moment there." Nearly jumping out of her skin, Melina skittishly turned her back.
"You look exhausted. What time did you get back last night?"
"Well... work has been really busy lately, ha-ha," Melina said with a tired smile.
Fena scrunched her fists up tight. This wasn't the first time she'd heard such a flippant remark in response to her expressing concerns over her mother's work schedule; they'd locked horns plenty of times over this issue and on any other day, the pair would've surely gotten into a spat over it.
Not today though. It was certainly true that Melina's words had wounded Fena, deeply so, but the magnitude of this day was enough to kick this can of problems a little further down the road for now. In just a few hours, Fena would no doubt have her hand raised victorious and she'd take one more step toward liberating her mother from the implacable clutches of her work, and most importantly, she would be right there watching, seeing the dream that Fena could so vividly envision begin to take shape before her eyes.
Fena couldn't afford to let anything get in the way of that—not even her own feelings.
Fena dashed down the steps and leapt towards her mother. The pair of them crashed into a set of old, brown drawers, sending a myriad of photo frames and trinkets tumbling to the ground, scattering shattered glass across the floorboards…
"Fena, calm down—"
...Fena buried her head into her mother's chest. Many a time, when things got too much for her, she'd jump into her mother's arms and focus solely on the fuzzy, pillow-patting thudding of her heartbeat, its assured tempo would always gradually soothe the rapid thumping and blasting of her own.
"I'll figure everything out," Fena cried, "nothing will ever come between us ever again. We'll have all the time in the world to spend together… I promised you, remember?"
Thin, glistening rivulets flowed from her cloudy, scarlet eyes and onto her mothers white lab coat, creating small, dark puddles that swelled as more tears fell into them. Fena quivered as she spoke almost breathlessly, "I… I'm terrified Mom. I'm terrified that my resolve might break. I'm terrified of people seeing me as a freak because I'm not blessed by the Goddess. I'm terrified that no matter how strong I become, it won't be enough to keep my promise to you—"
Fena's voice caught the instant she felt her mother's soft embrace tighten up.
"Oh Fena, my sweet little girl. I'm already the proudest mother in the village—no, the entire world."
Melina cupped Fena's puffy, flushed cheeks into her palms. Carefully, she wiped away Fena's tears, which sparkled like tiny crystals underneath the sunlight that peeked through the window frame on the front door, then planted a tender kiss on her forehead, "You are special, my dear. Essence is the life force of our world. It is the reason why we can live and grow and survive. Legends have said that the Goddess 'Origin', even in all of her divinity, was not perfect and people unfortunate enough to not receive her blessing live short and awfully painful lives. We cried until we fell asleep that night Doctor Seitz told us that you'd be lucky to make it to your eleventh birthday... but look at you now, by some sheer miracle, you've not only survived, but are standing on your own two feet and chasing your dreams."
Melina wiped tears from her own eyes, sniffling as she spoke, "The Shinobi world that we live in is, and always has been, built entirely upon strength—nothing else truly matters. So, if you want to achieve your dream, I guess you're going to have to keep getting stronger for me. I'll be waiting," Melina said, with a cheeky giggle and a wink.
Fena received those words loud and clear, grasping them tight in the depths of her heart, "I'll try not to keep you waiting too long, Mom." she leaned into her mother's arms again for another hug. Today, she'd be needing all the energy she could get.
"Oh gosh, just look at me!" Melina said, "I'm supposed to be the adult here, but I'm all over the place. Of course, today is your big day but… can you blame me for wishing that you could remain my sweet little girl for just a bit longer?"
"I can't, but my heart is set."
Cherishing each other's embrace, the pair took themselves a moment to have a good cry.
2
After the waterworks had finally subsided, Fena noticed her mother's demeanour changing somewhat. Oddly, though Fena couldn't quite understand why, she seemed strangely frustrated and twitchy all of a sudden.
Her mother revealed the object that she'd hidden behind her back.
The dwindling flames in Fena's eyes, dulled by her tears, instantly flared up. She was certain that she'd seen it when she stood at the top of the stairs, but second guessed herself; she'd only ever been allowed to lay eyes on this blade, let alone use it, when she and her mother trained together.
The pitch-black carbonised sheath hadn't so much as a speck of dust on it. Small, pulsing circles of blue light danced from the midpoint of the sheath's surface to its end, full of vigour, as though the blade itself were alive. The hilt was lovingly adorned by a plethora of tassels, their colours varying between shades of red, purple and pink, alongside a small, cute fish cake keychain (it was merchandise that originated from her favourite book.)
The mere presence of the weapon was enough to draw sweat from Fena's palms, "B-Bolt?! You... want me to take him?"
Less a gift and more the solidification of her promise to her mother, it was a one-of-a-kind weapon that by far and away was Melina's greatest technological achievement to date. It was the blade Fena had received for her birthday nearly two years prior; a katana that she'd named "Bolt".
"Fena, as a former Shinobi myself and most importantly, as your mother, it is time that I acknowledge all of your hard work," Melina said, glaring intently at the weapon. Her hazel eyes were as sharp as the steel encased within.
Fena raised her hands in anticipation of receiving the katana, her palms now sweating profusely. She gazed into the utter blackness of its sheath, almost losing herself as its total darkness seemed to expand beyond its visage and swallow everything around her. A swathe of ambivalence assaulted her stomach. Bolt was right in front of her, yet it felt as though her hands were passing through a limitless void, slowing her reach the closer she came to making contact.
Finally, it began to descend and when it sank into her palms, she embraced its weight and the slight chill that it dispersed into her shaking hands—though it wasn't just her hands that were shaking.
Her mother's shook too. Her fingertips flushed white as she clutched the blade, reluctant to let go, "However, earning one's trust can in and of itself be a burden. And as I've taught you, it is the duty of a Shinobi to endure the weight of those burdens," suddenly, her words felt distant, almost cold. The look in her beautiful hazel eyes that usually shone with such intelligence and compassion, were now dimmed and fraught with fear, a fear Fena had never seen before.
"Fena… Never unsheathe this sword, do you understand?"
Melina pushed the blade toward Fena's chest, "There is no other sword like this in the entire world. It binds us together. I placed a special seal on it that you mustn't ever tell anyone about and if anyone is to ask, you're to tell them that it's simply a common technologically augmented sword. Whether you're near or far, as long as I'm still infusing it with my Essence, you'll be able to draw from some of that energy when you fight without any Essence entering into your body and hurting you. Keep it on your person at all times. You told me you wanted to be strong so that you could protect me right? Well, I put everything I had into creating this weapon so I could match your resolve, the rest is up to you. I need you to promise me, just one more time, that you won't ever unsheathe that sword."
The age-old saying "it was as if time had stood still" is something you can never really understand until you experience it firsthand. When she'd first heard the phrase, Fena had wondered, "Why the heck would time stop for some random person?" She felt the saying conveyed a creepy undertone of narcissism.
In spite of that, no other moment in Fena's life so far fit the description of that phrase so perfectly.
Fena perused her minds library, reminiscing on all the events that had made her who she was today: never knowing her father, not receiving The Goddess's blessing, which left her bed-ridden for most of her youth and begging on her hands and knees for her mother to help her achieve her dream of becoming a Shinobi—the memories jumped out from the pages of each book she pulled from the shelves, the contents of their pages so clear and vivid that it felt as though she were experiencing them all over again right this moment.
The words she so desperately wanted to say just weren't coming out, as though the raging tides of ambivalence crashing about in her heart had swallowed them up, and she was slowly sinking alongside them...
...Alas, time doesn't really stop for anybody, Fena knew that. A mere few moments passed before the cinders of poise within the budding Shinobi's fiery scarlet red eyes would spark a new and incinerate her doubts and fears.
Fena reinforced her grip on the blade, matching the tightness of her mother's grip, "I won't let you down, I promise."
After a few moments of stillness, hesitantly, Melina released her grip on the blade and exhaled a long, drawn out breath.
A familiar and welcome warm smile surfaced once again, truly the picture of an elegant woman and loving mother, she rustled Fena's hair, gliding her fingers over the shaved sides of her head, "You know, you're going to be meeting a lot of new people today, maybe even making some friends? I'm sure there'll be a few other girls there too... Why not wear your hair down for a change?"
Fena's wide-eyed expression painted her as the nail and her mother's words as the hammer, "Saw right through me... hehe," she said, shifting her gaze to the ground.
Once I win today… Maybe I'll try it, as long as it makes you happy.
"All right, it's about time for us to leave. Are you ready to set off?" Melina asked.
"I'm ready, I've got everything I need. Let's kick some butt today Mom!"
On this day, like countless others throughout history, a fierce and fiery young girl was about to take her first step toward becoming a Shinobi.
Her dream: to become a Shinobi that would be strong enough to protect the person she treasured more than life itself.
Today, though neither the pair of them, nor a soul across the four continents could've ever possibly foreseen it, the era of Shinobi, an era that had existed since time immemorial, was entering its final act.
Today, the story of "Fena : The Final Shinobi" began.
3
Clear blue stretched as far Fena's eye could see like an ocean in the sky whilst the orange sun shone gloriously over the village that Fena called home; the mountainous village, "Origin's Peak", known also as "The Village Amongst The Clouds".
"It seems 'Lady Origin' is looking forward to today just as much as everyone else," Melina said, pointing upwards toward the sunny sky.
On the first day of each new year, a massive celebration dubbed as "Origin's Ritual" would be thrown across the entire village and spearheading the festivities was the "Origin's Peak Shinobi Academy's" enrolment ceremony. Shinobi and civilians alike from across The Four Continents made the journey each year to partake in the festivities.
Origins Peak was unique in that way; no other village across The Four Continents held a festival that quite matched it in terms of scale. Though that was befitting of the largest village in the nation known as "Ramus" which was also the largest nation on the "Genesis" continent.
Fena and Melina walked hand in hand past the many stalls and entertainment acts hustling and bustling about the village streets and chatted away about which tasty treats they'd love to sample later on.
"Wow," Fena said, mouth agape at the sights, "this is amazing! So this is what I've been missing every year mom?" Every year, Fena could only watch from the window of the stuffy, clammy room in the hospital that she was stuck in. Her mother did the best she could to give Fena a taste of the festival, quite literally in fact, by always bringing her a sample of tasty treats, Fena's most notable favourites being pink plums, a blue cotton candy that she always forgot the name of and, her absolute favourite, "Sky Poppers".
Men, women and children clad in festival attire sung and danced in unison, groups mixed with sparkling red, deep red, bright red, scarlet red and auburn red all waved around huge red feathers bathed in sparkling glitter and danced all around them.
Whilst she found herself puzzled with the flamboyant dress code, Fena failed to notice that one of the dancers had seemed to sneak a small red feather into the waist strap of her hakama.
After her mother had pointed it out, Fena decided to give it to her, "Your work stuff is way too plain and boring, this'll give it some much needed colour. How about it?"
Her mother gladly accepted and it seemed Fena's sharp tongue managed to draw out a smirk, "Maybe they'll fire me for breaking dress-code and lacking professionalism... Which is exactly what you're angling for!" They both laughed.
They were running short on time, but providing any major detours didn't suddenly present themselves, Fena would safely avoid disqualification via tardiness. She deemed that by far the lamest way to go out.
—Finally! Some fun time with mom! Feels like forever since the last time we were able to just walk and talk together...
When with her mother, even the simplest, most mundane pastimes filled her heart with joy. Her cheeky giggles, her reassuring, precious smile; whatever challenges that the Shinobi world had prepared to throw at her, Fena would conquer them all, so that she may stroll hand in hand with her mother through a blissful and beautiful life.
"Hey, Mom! Now that I'm healthier, we really gotta go out more often. Just you and me, spending time together outside of the house. I really wanna see the rest of the village! I wanna see some of the things that I read about in the books at the hospital like 'Origin's Wake' up there!" Fena tugged at her mother's arm and pointed toward her location of interest, "'The black tower that pierces the clouds'. Is that really true mom? Oh, and we gotta go outside the village gates so I can see all the wildlife out there an—"
"Hold on now, dear, you're getting way too ahead of yourself..." Melina said, caressing Fena's hand with her thumb whilst giving her ear a little pinch with her free hand, "Let's save this discussion for after you've won and earned your place in the academy, alright?"
Fena shrugged her shoulders and groaned; she knew her mother was right, she needed to be a patient for just a little longer.
Meanwhile, Melina seemed to sink deep into thought, her index finger rested lightly on her lips as she ponderously gazed straight ahead. After a short silence, she found her words, "I'm almost certain you'll end up having one of the higher seeded opponents today because you didn't graduate from a recognized pre-school," Melina sighed, "I just hope you don't have to fight Elira's boy."
"'Elira's boy'? Who's that? And who's Elira?" Fena asked, her scarlet eyes flaring like fireballs as she inched her face closer and closer to her mother's with each question.
"She's… someone I see for my work. Her son is... troubled..." It seemed for a few moments that Melina was carefully thinking of how to expand upon that statement, "...Never mind, don't worry too much about who you'll be fighting until they're in front of you. Focus on yourself and the things that you can control, and do your best." Deciding otherwise for whatever reason, she smiled and brushed it off.
Though puzzled at her mother's hesitance to speak, Fena was quite intrigued as to who "Elira's boy" was. Her mother had let it slip that he'd likely be one of the higher-seeded opponents, which would raise the chances of Fena being drawn to face him— she just had to know more, "Is he stro—"
"By Lady Origin's grace, it's Lady Melina! The cultivator of modern Shinobi combat technology!" A man shouted aloud.
"It's 'Origin's Guardian Angel'! My daughter absolutely adores you and wishes to learn all about the modern medical sciences!" Another person; an elderly woman, tearfully lauded whilst pressing the palms of her wrinkly, frail hands together.
"Lady Melina! Pardon my impatience, but it's been a whole week since I've heard from anyone at the council about assistance for the sewage leak in the river outside of my farm; I simply cannot harvest anything with filthy water!" Another man yelled, waving his arms about.
Suddenly the pair were ambushed by an avalanche of people, burying Fena's question underneath a bombardment of adulation and requests.
In recent months, Melina had regularly been coming home well into the night. Her job, at least as Fena understood it, involved experimenting in ways to even further expand upon the capabilities of the rapidly improving technology that she herself had cultivated and help the people of Origin's Peak with the resources at her disposal.
Fena was also somewhat aware of her mother's reputation, insofar as she was revered for her excellence in the field's she conducted herself in; being able to recall a handful of occasions where similar scenes like the one she was watching unfold now happened whilst the pair were on the way to or even inside of the hospital near their home, though they were far more subdued in their nature.
—Makes sense I guess, definitely not the type of place to be causing an uproar, Fena concluded.
Compared to the muted celebrations that she'd witnessed prior however, today's events were truly unprecedented.
Tethered to salvation only by the warm clutches of her mother's hand, Fena daren't let go, lest she end up stranded amongst a sea of unfamiliar faces. Faces who'd not a care in the world for whether their cascading waves of adulation and worship would drown Fena beneath them.
It's like they're worshipping her, like she's their Goddess. Biting her lip and clenching her fists, Fena was fast having about enough with the abundance of obtuseness on display.
As for her mother, without missing a beat, she dutifully engaged each and every person who bombarded her with care and courtesy, doing her utmost to swiftly quell their woes and provide them a word of encouragement, which left many in the crowd swooning. To them, every word was worth its weight in gold, and she shone twice as bright.
The title, "Origin's Guardian Angel", that Fena had heard shouted out numerous times now quickly made sense to her. Though it still didn't stop Fena from thinking it sounded stupid.
What started as an already uncomfortably large group had now ballooned into a stampede of pious fanatics celebrating merely being in the presence of Origin's Guardian Angel. Ecstatic followers desperately clawed through the crowds, bumping shoulders with Fena and one callous woman in particular, whose shrieks of joy were as harsh as the sound of whetstone sharpening steel, had even stepped on Fena's foot and when she jolted from the sudden pain, the woman just looked at her, puzzled, as though it were absurd of Fena to have left her foot there in the first place.
Fena winced in discomfort. An awful feeling, one that she'd tried countless times to forget, swirled about her stomach. An all too familiar feeling that was enough to make her entire world feel as though it were falling apart.
"Ugh... I'm sick of this!" Fena tore her hand away from her mother's.
"Fena, dear, I understand this is a lot but please just calm down. I promise we'll make it there on time."
That was the last straw; Fena had had enough of her mother's empty words, "Just like you promised to stop coming home so late!?" she snapped venomously.
A loud gasp reverberated around her in unison. Everybody stopped dead in their tracks as the familial spat unfolded before them.
Fena wanted to say something, anything that would make her mother understand.
That was until she saw the looks on everyone's faces.
Everywhere her scarlet eyes went, faces stained with disgust, anger, hatred and shock reflected her gaze, like the expressions of a believer witnessing a blasphemer insult their Goddess.
Fena's knees shook violently; her hands clammed up. Was everyone just dead silent? Or had her hearing suddenly failed her? Why did she feel so light all of a sudden?
—Am I about to pass out?
A light weight thudded against her shoulders, pulling her back to her senses as if it had grasped her wayward soul and returned it back to her body. Melina's concerned, hazel eyes met hers, "Fena, can you hear me? Are you feeling alright?"
"This awful feeling... again and again... How many times do I have to feel this way before you understand?" Fena collapsed to her knees. She remembered it now— that sickening feeling gnawing away at her stomach, suffusing her heart with darkness and fear: it was abandonment.
She shoved her mother away and immediately took to the rooftops, sparing not another word and fast putting distance between them. She heard her mother call out to her and though it pained her to ignore her, ignore her she did as Fena made her own way towards the academy.
"How is it that even when you're right in front of me… I feel so, so far away... What happens if one day, we're so far away from each other that I can't even see you anymore?"
Everything Fena had been through up to this point in her life, everything she'd resolved herself to facing head on once she'd earned her place in the academy, she'd done all of it for one simple reason: so that she could obtain the strength to protect her mother.
If so many things came between the pair that if she reached out, Fena could no longer touch her, or no matter whether she peered over or under even around the wall of obstacles between them that she couldn't see her... what was she even doing all of this for?
4
Deeply despondent whilst her internal struggles ate away at her, Fena neglected to consider the fact that she actually hadn't the slightest idea of how to get to where she was even headed… Well, that wasn't entirely true.
During her extended trips to the hospital, Fena often killed time by reading whatever she could get her hands on. Though she would only request fictional books, her best attempt to combat the boredom of being bed-ridden, every now and then she'd receive literature about the village's history. One time in particular, she happened to stumble across a brochure advertising a holiday experience to "The Sacred Mountainous Village Amongst The Clouds: Origin's Peak".
Fena recalled that one of the most popular tourist attractions was the Shinobi Academy and the venue where Fena's spar would be taking place today was right next door to it, she'd be able to find them somewhere in the north-western corner of Origin's Peak... if she'd accurately been able to recall the brochure.
On the surface of it, that was simple enough... providing the person making their way towards the academy was at least somewhat familiar with the layout of The Village Amongst The Clouds. For Fena, someone whose only point of reference were some pictures that she could vaguely recall from that brochure a few years back, it was far more arduous a task. Doubly so considering she'd dashed off in the direction she'd assumed was the correct one and realised she had absolutely no idea where she currently was. Neither did she have a compass or any other way of finding her bearings.
For a brief moment, the thought of dropping back down to the streets and asking someone for directions flashed across her mind, "No way, I'll never rely on them... Ungrateful losers," the thought alone was enough to make her blood boil. She clutched that same thought and burned it until nothing remained, "although, I really don't even know where to start, and I could already be late right now!"
Fena surveyed the sights before her from where she sat, searching for something, anything, that would give her some semblance of an understanding as to her current whereabouts. She could see the gigantic black tower, Origin's Wake, clear as day, ominously lingering amongst the clouds, but buildings and other, taller mountains obscured its base and Fena couldn't really tell how long it'd take her to get there. If she darted all the way over there only for the academy to not even be there, she'd most certainly be late, so that was out of the question.
Buildings, buildings and more buildings. That was the only thought that the surrounding area elicited from Fena's mind; nothing quite resembled the photos that she vaguely recalled. "I can't afford to keep wasting ti—"
"All commoners take heed; you must clear a path for the procession! His excellency, Lord Ember and His Grace, Young Lord Fenrir are in a hurry!" A tenor, posh-sounding voice resounded from somewhere nearby.
"'Procession'? What the heck does that mean? 'Lord Ember'? Is he a Shinobi? That name sounds awesome! I bet he's suuuper cool and strong too!" Compelled by her own wild imagination, Fena sprung up onto her feet and continued toward the sound of the voice.
"You can't just push people around like that! We're trying to prepare for Origin's Ritual here too!" A woman shouted.
"Silence, common filth! You should know your place!" The man barked back. By the sound of his voice, Fena discerned that it was likely the same man whom she'd heard shouting moments prior.
Well, he sounds like a real jerk…
A loud cry abruptly rang out, knocking Fena off of that train of thought—silence fell immediately after.
Coming upon the scene, Fena observed a hulking, bald, brown-skinned and broad-shouldered man towering over a woman not even half his size who lay on the ground. He squeezed into a plain, black tunic with a long, ash-black feathered cloak that was marked with an insignia that Fena couldn't quite make out, both due to her unfamiliarity with it and the fact that it's full image was obscured by the huge battle axe strapped to the mans mountainous back.
Wow, he sounds awfully girly for such a big lump.
That flippant thought as an aside, Fena felt an exhilarating heat rush through her body, "Oh... you sick pig. I wonder which finger on that filthy hand of yours I should break first?" she said, grinning from ear to ear.
Dangling a foot over the edge of the rooftop, Fena basked in the light breeze as its chilly touch nuzzled at the nape of her neck, she flared her nostrils at the sumptuous aroma of cooked meat amongst other flavourful fragrances of foods being prepared for Origin's Ritual, until suddenly, the hustle and bustle about the village streets completely escaped her hearing... Her mind was fixated on the one and only thing her heart desperately desired right this moment—to strike.
"I can't wait to see it... The look on your face when you're as helpless as that woman," Fena said, foaming at the mouth as she revelled in the imagery that the cinema in her mind's eye displayed to her.
She took hold of her blade and held it before herself, "I know we don't have this one down yet Bolt… but practising it on a pig like him means that we don't need to worry about form..." readying herself, she gripped Bolt tight and cocked it back, "...Alright Bolt, you're up!"
"...Huh?" Seemingly not at all worried about the object approaching him, the large man casually raised his huge hand.
"You're mine now," Fena grinned, her tongue was like a slivering snake as it licked at her lips, relishing her prey's tantalising offer, "here goes nothing... 'Wind Release, Sheath Step'!" Upon forming a singular hand-sign, Fena vanished from her perch above the streets in an instant, as if she'd never even been standing there in the first place.
"What the—" Leaving him no chance to retract his outstretched arm, Fena appeared right before his eyes before he could so much as blink, barrelling into him at full speed and sending the pair of them careening through a multitude of wooden stands, banners and other décor made for the day's festivities.
Dazed from the impact, the large man's pitiful attempt at struggling was only in vain, for Fena rose to her feet the quickest. She stomped the foot of her sandal right into his sternum and his puffy, muscle-bound body sank into itself like a dried-up carcass. She slithered down toward one of his tree-trunk arms and clutched it, coiling her own arm around it to constrict it. Carefully, she observed the sizable hand that sat limp underneath her gaze and spitefully took hold of one its helpless branches, "That look on your face... Oh, I LOVE IT—"
CLANG!!!
SHING!!!
KRRING!!!
Before she'd any time to react, standing before her—and by the sounds of it behind her also—Fena was surrounded by steel. The cold nip of at least two weapons pinched the back of her neck, they shook violently like two rabid silver wolves desperate to rip and tear into her skin.
"Move another inch... I beg you, compel 'His Grace' to order me to plunge my spear into your neck," A tall, dark-skinned, slender woman with a scar over her nose and dark blue hair eerily pleaded as she stood before Fena.
The woman was dressed similarly to Fena's prey, clad in black, but noticeably different, as she'd clearly no qualms flaunting her bronze skin, leaving little to the imagination whilst her emerald-green eyes reflected the shimmering steel of her spear and Fena herself at the end of it. Her deep, raspy voice shook as she spoke and a single tear glistened against her cheek. The twisted smile on her face as she licked her dark lips accentuated her flourishing desire to draw Fena's blood.
"I don't know what your problem is. This boar was stronger than that woman and that's why she's laying on the ground, right? Well, I wanted to the see the look on his face if someone stronger than him—"
"It would behove you to hold that tongue commoner boy, lest you lose it!" A shrieking voice from behind whelped, "Release that gentleman's arm and remove your filthy foot from his chest right this instant! How dare you assault one of the four pillars of the 'Ashen Covenant'. It is our sacred duty to serve and protect the illustrious Ember clan, a clan that Her Grace, Lady Origin, created at the dawn of the Shinobi Era and..."
—Your voice is super irritating, Fena thought, clicking her tongue as she tuned out from the man's ear-splitting rambling whilst focusing on her next course of action. Slowly, she released her prey's lifeless limb whilst spitefully dragging the wooden sole of her sandals over the mountainous man's chest as she shuffled it toward the ground.
I need to create some space… Did they see me use Sheath Step? Maybe I could convince them that I'm surrendering and let them take Bolt, then escape when the chance comes? Ugh, mom's gonna kill me if she finds out about this...
"Please let me through! I beg of you, you must let me through!" Sang an enchanting voice, one that rang louder and louder as its owner drew nearer. A soothing, reassuring voice that was as beautiful as the sound of light rainfall against a window in the middle of a serene night.
For just a split second, Fena had completely forgotten where she was.
"You're naive!" the blue haired woman before her yelled. Her emerald eyes lit up as she flipped her spear over and rammed the wooden pommel into Fena's stomach, causing her to collapse onto the ground.
—Crap!
The situation was rapidly becoming worse.
Spewing out saliva with traces of blood as she reeled from the impact of the blow and unable to make out anything through the profuse ringing of her eardrums, Fena was now at the mercy of her attackers. For a moment, Fena stared at the small pool of her own fluids, she couldn't move and aside from the splitting pain in her abdomen, she couldn't feel a thing. The tiny blotches of red began to bubble and steam rose from the ground, but before Fena could make much note of it, out of the corner of her eye she saw ash-black feather's rustling. It seemed that the mountainous man had recovered and it went without saying that he wasn't going to let her off the hook.
Bolt... Mom... help me, I'm sca—
"No! No more, you must stop this at once! No more violence, please Salacia!" That same enchanting, magical voice chimed in Fena's ears once again.
She pleaded to the woman, whose name appeared to be "Salacia", after barging between her and Fena, "Just leave this foolish boy and the civilians here be. They have agreed to move their concession stands and decorations, so I beg you, please show them mercy!"
Desperate to learn more, Fena mustered just enough energy to lift her head from the ground and catch a glimpse of the person so earnestly beseeching her attackers to stand down. Meeting her gaze was a tall, sparkling wall of black embroidered with an elegant pattern that formed what looked like some sort of bird. An inexplicable feeling of warmth and reassurance began ebbing away all of the tension and panic that was crashing around her body, even the crushing pain in her stomach had turned into an afterthought and what had replaced it was rapidly burgeoning enthrallment and fascination at the wonderful individual who stood so elegantly before her.
"No way... You're a real-life princess right!?" Fena gasped, her voice seemingly falling on deaf ears.
Did she hear me? Or is she just ignoring me?
"Surely you jest, girl?" the mountainous man snarked, approaching menacingly with blood pouring profusely from his nose, "That filthy runt must repent... and he can do it FROM UNDERNEATH THE DIRT!" he roared, slicing effortlessly through the air in an arc with his humongous battle-axe.
"Cease, Gale," a baritone voice as hefty as the beat of a drum demanded. Fena couldn't ascertain to whom it belonged or exactly where it came from, but what was immediately apparent was that her impending fate that would've seen her head rolling across the dirt like a tumbleweed had been abruptly postponed, just as immediately as the voice had commanded.
Instantaneously, Salacia turned her back to Fena, the exposed part of her toned back glistened with sweat. She then retracted her spear and bowed toward the direction of the voice, "Your Grace. Our orders?"
—They've all... stopped? it was as cut and dry as it looked, her assailants truly had stood down.
An awkward silence ensued after Salacia's question. Puzzled and unable to quell her swelling curiosity, Fena dared to shift her posture just a little more so that she may see the mountainous man, whose name she'd now understood to be "Gale", more clearly.
The look on his face was palpable; ghoulishly pale, as if all of his vitality had been sucked right out of him, starkly contrasting the warm, deep red paste dripping from it. His face seemed to twitch erratically and his huge, black battle-axe rattled feverishly like chattering teeth.
Who in the world could possibly reduce such a hulking, beast of a man to a fawn trembling at the sight of its own shadow? Surely, they had to possess power beyond belief, Fena thought.
That robust, commanding voice boomed out once again, deigning to even acknowledge the insufferable tension in the air, "Foolish daughter of mine, pray tell, what in the world is it that you are playing at this time?"
The "Princess Girl" as Fena had decided to call her, jolted upon receiving the words imparted unto her from the man that proclaimed to be her father, uttering not a single word in response, only trembling where she stood.
Is she even breathing? She's so still… Fena thought.
"What is it that someone like you could even hope to accomplish!?" a spiteful, callous voice, belonging to a boy that sounded as though he was about Fena's age, howled, "...You... you've nothing… not The Phoenix's flame, no skill and certainly not any physical strength either, yet once again you make a fool of yourself and this family. And for what? Some crestless peasants and some runt in way over their head? You stand there, defiant, in spite of that empty look in your cowering little eyes telling me that a measly yawn from 'The Tempestuous Tyrant' would be enough to topple you right now. So why—"
Despite the boy's nasty words, the Princess Girl still remained silent, though she still did not move a muscle.
Just as Fena had started to believe that the situation was beginning to resolve itself, it now seemed that the Princess Girl had no sway at all with the ruffians that were causing her grief. Instead, they were belittling her. For all of her courage, she'd have no chance of protecting Fena from harm if they all decided to attack.
How dare you speak to such a wonderful girl like that! It sounds like they're family, or at least he's known her for a while... but who cares! Family should never speak to each other like that! Fena gritted her teeth and dug her nails into the dirt, her eyes and cheeks were burning up as she pictured her nails digging and clawing into the boy's face.
The horrible boy seemed to grow even more irritated at the lack of response to his tongue lashing, "Speak dammit! I don't recall our mother being so uncouth that she—"
"Silence Fenrir!" The Princess Girl's father suddenly yelled, hastily interrupting his son before a loud thud rang out in tandem with a groan. Shortly afterward, he spoke again, his deep and booming voice now noticeably shrill like a boiling kettle, "Never speak of that crestless whore again. This is your final warning. Need I remind you once again, boy? Though your sister most certainly seems to be a lost cause, she's a female— she isn't entirely worthless and neither is her mother. You, on the other hand, are wearing my patience thin... Do not force my hand."
The Princess Girl's supposed father exhaled a deep breath, "Ruby, imprudent child, do as you please with this scoundrel, but do not be late to the arena. I expect you to arrive at the academy on time, is that clear?"
Though she didn't respond, it seemed that her silence was intuited as comprehension, "Koria…! By The Phoenix's grace, just where is that darned maid when you need her. Koria!" he shouted.
Shortly following his call, a womanly voice spoke up, "My sincerest apologies, Lord Ember, I'd only just finished seeing to the civilians you'd instructed me to pacify."
"Is there anyone around here who I can truly depend on?" he asked. "Never mind. Just as we discussed the other night, you will serve as the girl's final warning. I'm hereby appointing you as her personal maid, you're not to leave her side under any circumstances. Get that child to understand her responsibilities as an Ember, lest I resort to my own methods…"
"Understood, Your Grace," she remarked. Fena then felt her suddenly appear right next to her; she'd covered the distance in a flash.
"M-my Lord," Gale called out, it seemed he'd cleaned up his face somewhat. "I beg that you'll pardon me for interrupting you, but the 'Chief's Summit' begins shortly, we must make haste."
"Damned Summit. A colossal waste of my time, I've no desire to watch my brother tuck his tail between his taint for those 'Historia' dogs," Lord Ember raged. "Nevertheless, you are correct, Gale. Though, before we make haste, I've one more warning I must impart... Young lad, stand beside my daughter and face me, so that you may see me clearly."
The Shinobi surrounding Fena suddenly took a few steps away from her.
Seemingly taking heed of the man's request, Fena, still somewhat feeling the pain from the blow she'd received earlier, carefully rose to her feet, though instead of looking towards whoever "Lord Ember" was, a far more pressing opportunity presented itself and some stupid Shinobi with an ego problem wasn't going to deter her from taking it.
Her heart thumped and throbbed, it had been pounding away inside of her chest ever since she'd laid eyes on that girl and it was becoming unbearable. Fena poked her head into the girl's line of sight.
She shone brighter than any sunrise Fena had ever seen before. Deeply enraptured by her glimmering ocean-blue eyes, Fena wondered just how in the world someone so remarkable could even exist. Standing right beside Fena was someone who, by simply laying eyes upon, incited feelings of wonder and inexplicable enchantment, just like some of the characters from her favourite stories would inspire in her.
But this girl wasn't a fantasy nor a dream— she was well and truly real.
She was regally adorned in a long, glittery black dress with black silk sleeves, whilst wearing sparkling black heels, which left Fena absolutely stunned, as she'd never actually even seen a pair of high heels before. Though the dress covered most of her skin, Fena spied glimpses of her sun-kissed pigmentation between flocks of her perfectly straight black hair that flowed all the way down to her waist.
Fena could've sworn that her father had called her by name, but amongst her finding herself stranded in the sea of the Princess Girl's twinkling ocean-blue eyes whilst repeatedly rubbing her own eyes to confirm that their flames weren't conjuring images before her that she wasn't even truly seeing, Fena had already forgotten it, a sin Fena thought she may never be able to live down.
The Princess Girl, however, continued looking in the direction of her father, showing no sign at all of noticing Fena's extreme fascination with her.
"Ahem... You've a lot of nerve, commoner lad. Pay no mind to my foolish daughter... Though ogling her in the presence of her own father is more than enough to justify me having your head." Lord Ember said through gritted teeth.
After his pompous, snarky voice dragged Fena out from her daydream, she stood up straight and turned toward where it came from.
Atop a ginormous red and white coloured carriage that was barely wide enough to pass through the village streets, one with a figurehead that seemingly had been delineated in the image of a Phoenix and was encircled by many Shinobi, stood a rotund and stubby little man. He'd waddled out from a grand, opulent chair twice the size of him that also shared the same phoenix design as the carriage. He was slovenly draped in pure white and red and shimmering gold robes that did little to offset his protruding stomach, and was coated in a smattering of jewellery, which Fena thought made him look like an extremely large, jewel embedded Genie Lamp. His black hair, noticeably thinning and greying out, was drowned in gel and slicked back and puffy red tomatoes sticking out of either side of his mouth matched the roundness of his stomach. His black eyes withheld Fena with contempt, though he'd a weird smirk on his face, as though he were enjoying scrutinising her or something... Fena didn't quite get it, but all in all, he was extremely odd.
Next to him, his son, a young boy who, like everyone else bar Fena and the Princess Girl, was kneeling. Despite all the apparent physical contrasts and his skin being more tanned, he was his father's spitting image. His jet-black hair burned with streaks of red and a scar over his closed left eye gave the impression that he himself must also be a Shinobi, or at the very least had been in a fight or two. He ground his teeth together as his black eyes, just as harsh and piercing as his fathers, scorched holes in Fena's direction, though, unlike his father's, she was certain their fury wasn't directed at her.
The fat dude is Lord Ember? Why's everyone so scared of that? it was apparent that Fena was missing something that everyone else seemed to know, that's surely what the issue was... right?
"Her Grace's providence on this sacred day is the sole reason why her Essence shall continue flowing through your veins. Commit it to memory that if there is a next time, you shall receive no pardon and my subjects shall show no mercy. Am I clear?"
Fena took a long, hard look at the man known as Lord Ember as well as his son, Fenrir, burning their faces into her memory. Biting her tongue, she responded, "Yeah, you got it."
"Hmph... Wonderful." Lord Ember grinned. "Koria, see to it that my daughter deals with this lout swiftly and arrives at the academy on time."
"As you've ordered, Your Grace." With that, Koria grasped both Ruby and Fena by their hands and began exiting the scene, snaking through a few alleyways, "Let's find somewhere quieter, my lady," she said curtly.
Fena looked back toward the carriage, watching Fenrir as he reached his boiling point, punching a hole into the wooden platform.
Underneath his breath, the boy swore to himself a solemn oath, forged in flame, "On the dying embers of the everlasting Phoenix, I swear it on my life that on this day, my foolish sister, I will draw the curtain on your hopeless charade... Our blood is my burden... mine alone."