The coastal city, Disel is the hometown of four separate houses, The Aren Household(Now the Trihan-Aren Household), The Trihan Ménage, The Rirnox Family Household, and the “Lightbringer” Bloodline.
The major attractions of the city-state is the lucrative “mega” Cathedral of Niorr, the Goddess of Mercy, along with the Holy families that have massive estates that have been beautified throughout the centuries of my family's history here, and the Capital Academy as well.
My best friends, Leon and Hella, are the comrades I have chosen for my Party when I become heir to my family name, along with my Best man and wife, as was planned by my Father, like his Father before me.
My name is Lucas Obelix Aren; and this is my record for my life.
- Lucas O. Aren
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My brother, Sebas Ior Aren, was… my brother. He was dedicated, and respectful as an heir should be, but ever since he turned ten years of age, mother and father have shunned him, as if he were a criminal.
The to-be criminal stares at me, wearing the street clothes of a beggar, black canvas held up by strings, his ruby red hair refracts the light the sun shines down on it, and his eyes. They’re unfamiliar eyes, they don’t remind me of my older brother, they remind me of someone who roams the street, looking around for their next big break.
It. It has a missing arm, replaced by something mechanical, something that glows red like the demons that once were defeated by my father, some 25 odd years ago.
“Lucas! How have you been?! Go fuck yourself!”
The thing that used to be my brother, smiles with large fangs that are sharper than a humans, but too small to be a monster’s.
“I-I thought you got exiled?”
“You don’t own the town.”
He just stares at me, chewing on some grilled octopus he probably stole from somewhere.”
“Silence always was your thing, wasn’t it little Lucas?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“What should I call you then?”
“I- you’re my brother of course- it only makes sense that-“
“Would you believe me if I said you aren’t my brother?”
I raise an eyebrow to look at him, confused about whatever nonsensical prattle he babbles on.
“Back when I was still young enough to not be kicked out, you made it a habit of avoiding my presence. But now? You can speak while looking me in the face.”
“What happened to your arm?” I ask, trying to sidestep the derailment of the conversation, it makes my chest tight.
He moves the mechanical arm, it seems to follow his will. It looks demonic with the light that seems to glow from underneath the metal scale.
“Would you believe me if I said I sold it? feeding yourself every day… sometimes we need money so we can buy things, like food.” I think he was trying to make a joke, but I refuse to force a laugh.
“You’ve changed.” I say to him, eyes switching from the demonic arm to his beady eyes.“Don’t you miss your mother and father?”
“Should I miss your mother and father?” He mocked, he’s trying to irritate me, or it’s an attempt to get me into a fight.
“You shouldn’t act like this. You were nobility.”
He snickers at the sentiment, as if it’s lesser than him.
“What?”
“I was a nobility, were, was. Father made sure to rip off the leech of the household and squish it beneath his underfoot.” The hostility from his words seem to draw prying eyes.
“Don’t talk about father, we’re talking about you.” I say, trying to de-escalate the conversation.
“Why shouldn’t I? Is your magnanimous and benevolent father going to accept me back if I agree to become some sort of servant boy?” He’s succeeding in irritating me, he knows that’s not what we do, he knows why he was removed.
“Our father did what was best for the family!” I shout at him, a crowd has encroached on the scene.
“Your father is a fucking coward!” He yells back, forcing my hand, and I strike a solid face that doesn’t seem to move
“Are you requesting a duel?”
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“Do I need to?”
He sighs, and takes a stance, the public encircled us, and there’s people recording the fight already, I will not be put down to his standings.
“Don’t make me do this, Elder brother.” I hold my hand forward to intercept and deflect strikes
“I want to be left the hell out of Aren policies, becoming a dog like you is sure to be the highest honor for a lesser peon, but you’re so high up your own ass, that I might consider killing myself to be a divine inspiration while working under you.”
“You haven’t talked to father since you left, have you?”
“Father is afraid of his mutant child with cherry. red. hair.“ he enunciates the last words to claim his position on the matter.
“So be it.”
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We both take a stance, His is more akin to a pugilist, or someone who fights like a Tavern brawler, it consists of a slumped shoulder, off center where his arms take up the majority of the guard, both hands are balled up into loose fists, not pointing at anything in particular. Mine is our household’s, firmly protecting my head with my forearms, , perfectly setting my footwork to prepare a counter attack, and built for speed, as the movement skills I have will prevent him from countering himself..
My attack is the first, a right hook that takes his jaw off. But suddenly, fate decided for my eyesight to become obscured by something that hit me with a loud and wet slap.
I scramble to peel what appears to be a half eaten grilled squid off of my face before the world suddenly turns upside down, and a fist kisses my lips, slamming my head into the pavement.
When I come to, I’m being held by my elder brother by the back of my outfit and attempt to struggle out from his grip. He easily lifts me up holding me like a logger would a medium sized cut, until he throws me out into Disel’s waterfront. I surface, struggling to stay afloat in the stuffy school attire, and look up at my brother through a stinging salty brine that slaps me silly, he doesn’t sneer like he does when berating me, he just looks disappointed.
Be disappointed in yourself, Bastard!
A kind citizen sent a rope off of the pier nearby, and I latched onto the lifesaver attached to it, and was able to get out of the depths unscathed. Unfortunately for my merrygoing brother, he decided to make himself scarce.
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”Leon, it isn't funny!” I say to my future party member.
“It’s kind of funny, it’s not like he threw you onto the shell beds or rocks, he slung you into the snug pocket of the marina,” he laughs while watching the video on the crystal tablet, the red haired bulky student sits against the foot of his bed frame, I try to pry him away from the thing, but I’m not strong like those of the Rirnox bloodline.
They have some sort of spiritual magic bond that incorporates into them, it reminds me of the weresharks and werebears when they gain the characteristics of their “primal forms,” a cute girl comes in during our conversation, pinning her emblem onto her uniform, it holds the house colors of the Rirnox family, like Leon’s, when he wears it.
“Be nice to Lucas, Leon. You don’t want him to tell father you’ve been teasing him.” Hella says while her magic power sends the crystal tablet into my hands.
“Hella! Don’t butt in if you haven’t seen him get his ass kicked by his older brother yet, it’s proper fighting experience to study!… do you think father would buy that?” Leon asked his sister.
“No, I do not think he would.” She says while the crystal tablet floats from my hands to her face, and watches the half minute clip.
“Are you okay Lucas? There were a lot of people watching, I know Lord Montgomery is different from our father, but surely he won’t punish you for being thrown in the harbor, will he?” She asks while the crystalline object returns to her brother’s hand, and she looks up at me, her chestnut-auburn hair bounces in wet curls, the water is removed with the skill
“Don’t worry, my father is an understanding person, even though Sebas is gone, he won’t blame me for anything having to do with him being back in town.”
A chime comes from a speaker, “Lucas Aren, you have a visitor at the student center, Lucas Aren please report to the student center.
“Or maybe he does?” Leon says, which gets a chuckle from me as his sister kicks him in the back of the head.
“Thanks Hella,” I smile at her and leave.”
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I sit across from my father, who says nothing while tea is poured into a small ornate teacup, I stand at attention. He says nothing and drinks a small sip of tea.
I am at attention, Lord Montgomery Aren is here, and I wait at attention. The headmaster, Maxith Sito, smiles at me and waves his hand and I take my seat.
He’s a very nice looking man, with algae green hair that sits comfortably in a small tie behind his head, along with a pair of glasses that shade his vision from the overhead light. Alternative to my father, Lord Montgomery Aren, who wore an elaborate purple breastplate with a red decoration reminds me of the sword of god, Michael, that strikes down onto the land, bottom of the breastplate. Beyond that silken cloak draped over him, hiding the tunic underneath, his gauntleted hands deftly gripping the teacup without breaking the dainty object.
He speaks to me in a deep and imposing voice, that seems void of emotion, but addresses me with kind words; “Are you hurt, my son?”
“No sir, I received no wounds that a low rank potion could not heal.”
He places his cup down and leans forward to look at me, his eyes rip apart my posture, even what feelings manage to get through my face.
“He isn’t a boy who gets into fights for anything wicked, usually it’s class disparity he solves between the major houses/ political heads and the civilian’s kids that go here.” The headmaster sings my praises, but all I hear is “I see.”
Five minutes pass, and my father rubs the small blonde stubble on his chin, he looks up at me suddenly, and it genuinely startled me.
“Was that him?” He asked, The most emotion I have ever seen on his face.
“Do you mean Sebas?” I ask him, unsure of what he means, but he nods.
“Yes sir, it is Sebas.”
“What happened to his arm?”
“He claims he sold it, Lord Aren.”
Headmaster Sito bursts out laughing, the sudden rampage of noise startles me, and he sighs, but pulls out a small tablet, a crystal tablet, but larger. A video is pulled up, and the lights dim with the press of a button, a small video begins to play on an apparatus that made up a window on the wall, the contents of the video takes part by a trio party in Eruka, a small wheat town to the southwest of Disel, unfortunately for the trio they fight an Alpha Horned Rabbit with a horn the size of each of them, one for each of them.
Headmaster speaks up, addressing me, while pausing the video before the group fights. “Hey, Lucas, let me ask you something, how would you fight a Behemoth Mutant, for sake of argument, a level 19, Tri-horn Alpha Mid Floor Horned Rabbit.”
I look at him shocked at the question, and the second I speak, he sounds a verbal declaration of my failure, I ask, “what do you mean?”
“I mean, you can’t son, you’re a level 2 student, you would never be able to do that, much less at level 10 like these idiots.”
“What do you mean sir?” I ask, genuinely confused.
“These individuals, they are new founded adventurers, all level 10 at least, including your brother.”
That gets my fathers attention, as his sight was ripped away from the image on the wall, staring down the headmaster.
The headmaster nods at his concerned… confused? Expression. He points at the video, and presses play, I watch and wince at the group as their Damage Dealer is knocked down within the first second, a single strike from its hind leg was all that was needed. The group left their tanker to play Staller until they heal the Dealer, their Ranger gets 5 fully charged
Then he jumps atop the monster when it tries to crush his companion, and then he takes the monster by the horn, crushing his arm under the pressure of the skill.
I stand up, and yell “HOW IS HE AWAKE!”
The video pauses, and I look at the headmaster, who smiles at me, “he pretty much isn’t, those are mostly fumes that you see, he was knocked out early on. But he still fights, that’s not the coolest part.”
I sit down, embarrassed from my outburst, my father doesn’t even look away, and the video pauses on an Aerial view of my brother, his fist making contact with the Goliath.
“Hey Monty, you ever been able to say you punched a behemoth in the face, and won?”
“No,” My father says, “no I could not.”
The video ends, as my brother, soaked in blood is pried away by his companion who stabbed his blade through the hole in the neck of the creature that my brother bit open.
“The pelt was claimed to be identified by a staff member of an inn, it seemed to be off, it was
My father places his hand over his mouth, rubbing it thoughtfully.
“Monty, I would like your permission, to get that one and his team here.”
My father looked at the headmaster with a rage, unfamiliar rage, but a rage I can’t imagine where it came from.
“Don’t look at me, think about it, cause if you look at the Biter’s past, he’s become an idol, Persistent, Recalcitrant, a bit of an anarchist deity for the Berserking crowd.”
“…If you can convince him.” My father says finally.
“Now let’s watch Lucas get his pride handed to him.”
The headmaster re-plays the video of me getting assaulted by grilled squid several dozen times while giggling at me, I simply place my thumb and pointer finger over my eyes and wait for this meeting.
The headmaster eventually stops and says: “However, assaulting a child from our school will be punished,” he looks at my father seriously, and I want to say he looks conflicted.
My father nods and departs.
“Do I get a say in what happens to him?” I ask the headmaster, who smiles at my question.
“Nope!”