Shiro

My situation at birth:

I’m being taken care of by my seven-year-old sister because my birth was the final straw for my mother’s health, and she ended up with her entire immune system shut down.

My body must’ve sensed the situation, as I was able to move freely by five months old, leaving a lot less work for my sister.

Then again, it’s entirely possible that beastkin just develop that quickly…

When I was half a year old, something special happened. I was out shopping with my sister, as we do, and Alissa ran into an elderly man.

“Ah, sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going!”

“Hmm… Then, as an apology, what do you have to offer?”

I turned about. There was a skewer stall, relatively devoid of customers, nearby. I rushed over, my feet gliding across the ground and between the other people on the street.

“May I have one of these, Ma’am? They look delicious…” I put on a fake voice, attempting to charm the stall owner.

“Oh of course! Such a cute kitten, just take one! It’s on the house!” She offered one. I bit off the first chunk of meat, and let the flavor sway me.

“Thank you! It’s really yummy!” I was slightly sickened by my act, so I quickly went back to where my sister was, scarfing down the meat.

I could barely taste it, but I didn’t want it for eating anyway.

I hid the wooden skewer behind my back as I approached the growing crowd around my sister and that man.

“Like I said, I can’t give you my money! I just bumped into you, you don’t need any money for it!” I heard her yell.

I barged through the people, weaving between their legs. I’m lucky I was short.

“Sir, leave her alone. Anybody could see that you’re bothering her. Or do I need to call the guards?” I spoke in a loud voice, narrowing my eyes and glaring at the man as if I was better than him.

“Huh? You think I’m going to listen to some kid who’s barely old enough to have stopped drinking from his mother’s teats? Go call your parents, brat. I’ll have this talk with them.” This elderly man was picking a fight.

He must’ve looked in our grocery bags. It’s true that I can’t eat solid foods, so we’d bought some milk for me to drink.

I felt anger rising up within me, but I kept it off my face by smiling.

“Says the old man. How old are you? Are you sure you have enough time left in your life to be arguing with a kid? You might just die of old age in the middle of this argument.” I spat venomous words at the man, my glare becoming real.

He must’ve felt pressured, as he took a half step back.

I was tempted to continue my tirade, but I stopped. It’s always good to hold back some insults to use at another time, if needed.

“But this little brat ran into me! What would she have done if she’d soiled my clothes? These are more expensive than your very life, kid.” He sounded like a snobby noble as he waved his cloak to and fro. Seeing him desperate like that alleviated my mood slightly.

“Well, why don’t you ask that question when somebody does soil your clothes? From what I can tell, my sister did no such thing to your cloak. So, if you could kindly walk away, as, at the moment, the only thing you have for evidence that she bumped into you at all is your word and whoever saw it.” I tried to convince him to back off with logic, now that I’d calmed down a bit.

“Shut up! Some kid talking back to an adult!” The man yelled, shuffling forward upon my sister. He reached down and grabbed her hair, before lifting her into the air.

Rage flowed through my veins, and my reasoning was clouded. The skewer I had still hidden behind my back came out. I held it in a back hold, or, as I like to call it, the assassin’s grip.

My sister had the sense to lift herself up a little bit, so some of her hair wasn’t lifting her entire body.

“Put her down.” My voice was no longer venomous. It was simply filled with murderous rage.

The crowd around us didn’t know what to do, but I heard a few people backing off. I hope they’re going to go get the guards to hold me back from becoming a murderer.

“And what if I disagree? How come you call her your sister, even though you’re not even the same color? Are you both orphans, all alone without any parents?” He sneered as if he was trying to laugh at that sort of situation.

I want to murder this man.

“I’ll give you ten seconds,” I muttered, loud enough for him to hear me. I readjusted my grip on the skewer.

“Ten.”

The man showed no sign of caring.

“Nine.”

He smirked at me.

“Eight.”

The crowd seemed on edge, awaiting something.

“Seven.”

“Oh, so you can count backward! How surprising!” The man shouted out.

“Six. No, wait, as a penalty. Three.”

He seemed slightly shocked at the sudden drop.

“Two.”

Nevermind. I’ll just free my sister.

I threw the skewer, making sure that it was aimed at his throat, before running towards his outstretched arm that held Alissa.

I ran my fingers through her hair, yanking it down towards her, trying quite hard to make sure that I didn’t hurt her as I released her from his grip.

I fell to the ground, Alissa above me. When I hit, I immediately sat up and viewed the situation as I got to my feet, steadying Alissa on hers.

The man had released his clenched fist, probably what really allowed me to get Alissa out of his grip, to catch the skewer. For an old man, he’s pretty good.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Do I have the strength to carry Alissa out of this crowd? No…

Are there any guards coming to break this up?

I spared a glance out, through the legs of the people, while focusing my hearing for footsteps of people in armor.

Nothing… I guess I’m out of luck? Will I really have to fight this old man?

I’d rather avoid that if I can…

“What do you think you’re doing, messing with some kids a tenth of your age?” I heard a rough voice speak before a glass bottle shattered on the ground. A dangerous looking green gas spread out, quickly hitting the people in the crowd, sending them into coughing fits as they ran away.

The old man was above me and Alissa, a cloth covering his mouth. He tossed two down, and I gave one to my sister before placing mine over my mouth myself.

The scene cleared, and everyone had cleared out.

All that was left was my sister, the old man, and myself.

“Nice to see that the two of you are safe. You hungry? I know a good stall around here. Lemme treat you.”

So here we were, 20 minutes later, being treated to sweets from an old man who happened to come by at the right time with the right tools.

“So, are you enjoying it?”

My sister had no reservations about eating the sweets, looking like she was having the time of her life.

I, on the other hand, simply stared at the pastry, similar to cake, that was in front of me, without eating it.

“Well, I can see one of you is…” His voice sounded almost… sad?

“Either way, who are you and what do you want from us?” I put a small edge to my voice. I didn’t quite trust this man, nor did I have reason to.

“...So you don’t trust me… That’s fine. You don’t have a reason to, after all.” The man sighed before continuing, “I’d like to teach one of you Alchemy.”

His voice showed no harm, but it was serious. I couldn’t find any faults in his tone that would suggest something other than what he said.

“But why? That gives you no benefit. Now, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and believe that you do want to teach us Alchemy, but my question still stands. In fact, I’d say it’s even more justified. Isn’t Alchemy a skill that people normally don’t learn because of the price for it?”

I had learned just a bit about alchemy, because of my mother’s condition. Since she was constantly sick and was possibly inflicted with a disease that attacked her immune system, I brought up the topic, albeit half-heartedly, of using a cure-all potion or something of the sort.

My mother then proceeded to attempt to educate me on the price that most people have to pay when becoming alchemists. The ingredients are mostly wasted on a student, so the tuition fees are through the roof. That being said, each potion is also painfully expensive, and there are probably only two alchemists in the entire kingdom.

With that sort of logic, this old man here, offering to teach alchemy for free, is insane at best.

“As you can probably tell, I’m getting old. I’m going to die within the next twenty years or so, as my lifespan has been extended quite a bit through my alchemy skills. I’ve learned from many sources, all over the world, and I’ve never really settled down in one place.”

He took a moment as if remembering something saddening.

“I’ve been alone for most of my life. So, I decided to find one of the younger generation to teach my skills to. When I saw you fighting for your sister against that man, I felt something special about the two of you.”

He smiled at us, waving down one of the waitresses for the bill. Looking over, my sister had really eaten her fill. Strangely enough, though, she left nearly half of everything she had uneaten and asked if she could take them away. The innkeeper decided to let her do so.

“So, you decided to take us in as heirs to your alchemy just because you saw me trying to kill an older man for my sister?” Needless to say, after hearing his words, I was impressed. But after thinking about the meaning behind them, I was simply confused.

“An older man? You mean you did that without knowing who he was?” This old man… I’ll call him Gramps until I learn his name, seemed surprised.

“That old man was somebody important, I assume? A lord of some castle, maybe?” I hypothesized, beginning to feel a bit sleepy.

“Actually, yes. He was Grim, as the people know him, and he’s one of the few most powerful nobles in this kingdom. With his sources alone, it’s said that he could find out the date of when you stopped breastfeeding. With his personal military, it’s said he’s wiped out a stampede of class four Vepha before!”

Vepha? That’s a new word… Judging by the context, it’s the monsters of this realm, right? Class four… Is that strong alone or is it just the stampede part that made it important?

“So, back to the Alchemy teaching…” I yawned. “If you’re going to teach one of us, teach my sister. I’ll come watch the lessons every once and awhile too if I feel like it…”

Ah, man, I’m beginning to doze off. Curse this body, always exhausting itself at times that could never be considered opportune moments.

Ah, but I do like sleeping, so I guess it’s a plus minus zero kinda deal.

I yawned once more.

“Now then, I’ll go home. Alissa, you need help carrying all that?” She had at least five dishes in her arms, stacked precariously.

I took one, the one that seemed like it was going to fall the most, and carried it with both hands.

“Well, I guess there’s no harm in starting tomorrow, but are you fine with being taught, girlie? We never really let you speak, did we?”

“Hmm? I’m fine with whatever Shiro decides! He’s my one and only little brother, after all!”

There was a stunned silence for a split second before Gramps began to laugh.

“The name’s Achilles. I’ll give you this here. Just call my name and I’ll hear the next three seconds of what happens. I’ll be sure to help out if you’re in danger, too. After all, pissing off Grim wasn’t the smartest decision on your part…”

I must’ve dozed off while standing up, there, as when I opened my eyes next I was at home, Achilles nowhere in sight, and in bed.

Another day, but this one would be a bit different.

I looked down to the bracelet that was clamped onto my arm. It was space black, as if it was full of light but still dark… and odd enigma to look at.

“Achilles. Come on over, let’s see these lessons of yours.”

His lessons were legit. My sister learned Alchemy at a breakneck pace, speeding through talent and becoming a genius in the subject.

Healing potions, Antidotes, Herbology, Mana infusion, Poisons, Buff potions, etc. She learned them all. On the few times when I attended the lessons, she’d be mixing the potion while I was still boiling the water.

Multitasking was very important for an alchemist. They needed to be able to watch the water, sort the ingredients, prepare the ingredients (Each ingredient could have up to 12 different steps of preparation and even two of the same ingredient require different levels of preparation sometimes.) and then create the potion in the end.

They needed memorization as well, for each herb, where to find them, the chances of error, the preparation for each herb, the market prices, how to know if the herb is real or fake… etc.

My sister was much better than me in both of these aspects.

If there was one thing I was better at than her, it would be ratios.

Twenty-three parts water to twelve parts herb A and two parts herb B.

Wrong.

Herb B is a bit too little…

I’d reach over and add a bit more, take away some until that warning sign in my mind finally died off and the proportions were right.

When I told Alissa about how I knew that;

“It must be a sense! I knew that you’re rare just by how you ended up white, but I never thought you would’ve gotten a sense too!”

As my sister’s explanation would be much too long to write out, I’ll rephrase it quickly.

A sense is something that every beastkin can have. It’s simply very, very rare. Each sense is different, as well, but it basically alerts them whenever certain conditions are fulfilled.

Some senses work off very vague things, like a sense of ‘pain.’ Emotional pain, physical pain, phantom pain, the pain of the soul, pain from mana exhaustion, etc. Those would all trigger that sense.

But then there are some that are extremely specific, such as a sense for ‘things moved over an inch to the left since the last time the thing was seen.’

Of course, this sense would very rarely be activated and could be considered a waste of the lottery prize that is the sense.

After hearing her explanation, I lay down on her lap, as was custom for me to fall asleep outside of home, and thought about it.

Probability has no effect on the past. Everything was always 100%, to begin with. The chances of me being born? Talking statistically, it’s probably less than 0.01^-1000%. But, here I am. The probability, no matter how small, ended up being 100%. They say hindsight is 20/20, but, while I know it’s speaking of vision, it could also mean twenty out of twenty, or 100%.

A note from Shiro:

(Don’t worry about that part, I just thought of it and found it interesting that it would still work in that sense. It’s not actually correct.)

Years went by, my life continuing as it had been. For some reason, Grim never did anything, from what I could tell, but I was certainly not going to worry over the momentary peace.

[My personal book of quotes, number 3: There is no such thing as peace. When you believe your life to be peaceful, one of two things is happening. One, the chaos is happening elsewhere. Or, the one more deserving of fear, two, the chaos is building up out of sight.]

Either way, my mother continued to be constantly sick, even Achilles lacking the skills required to heal her. But she lived on, which gave me hope that one day there may be a miracle and she can be cured.

It’s a waste to let such a beautiful person die off without even a fighting chance.

Well, life shall continue onwards, no matter what happens. There’s very little that can cause Life itself to end, as the cycle is always continuing.