Father set us down at the courtyard. Another question surfaced when I regained my balance on the ground.

"How were you able to break through the boulders, Father?"

Father wasn't even wearing the gauntlet, so it merely looked like he had punched with a bare fist.

"An excellent question, shows me you're really perceptive. It looked like I was hitting with just my knuckles right?"

"Mhm."

"In reality I have fist enveloped in another form of Gravity magic which repels. If I were to punch it with my fist alone my bones would be the only thing shattering. Heh."

It was still a bit early from the fact that no one was waiting in the library for us. We had entered without any kind of reception.

"Father what exactly was the abandoned part of the castle for?"

Father gave a faraway look and shrugged.

"My father called it a monument to familial delusion. His reasoning was that the legacy and intended use of the room wasn't the way forward for our family anymore. Maybe that was him just being angry at his own father."

"Why?"

For the first time in my life my father was giving me some candid history of our family.

"My grandfather was a swordsman, and he wasn't the first in our family. The family records we have and the training hall's walls have a myth that the Dreadtree name began with the first Fear God."

"Is that why you studied the truth of what happened in the war against humans?"

"Yeah, it was a passing interest. Although, that's the tough part, figuring out what's truth and what's merely fiction. There is a direct family tree record that has information about the first Dreadtree. But it doesn't fit the description of the first fear god."

"What differentiates them, Father?"

"The Fear God lost his family and gave in to madness at the end of his existence. The first Dreadtree was a man that cared about his family more than anything. Thinking about it I never did tell you what decides who comes next as the family head."

I realized Father wanted to switch to a more hopeful topic. I accepted his wishes and played along.

"No, you didn't. What is it?"

"Strength. The strongest child within the house becomes the heir. However, I prefer to see it the way our ancestors intended rather than the self-serving way my father and my father's uncle viewed it. The strength to defend your entire family."

"How did your father see it?"

"Strength alone, the kind that disregards even flesh and blood. I hate that kind of thinking but your uncle didn't feel the same way after everything panned out. That's why he left. He lives in the north-western continent now."

"Oh. Can I see the training hall?"

"Hmmph. If you want. I know your mother must've told you it was dangerous to explore that side due to a lack of maintenance. But between you and me it's perfectly fine, just drab. The castle hasn't needed a repair in over three hundred years. Ironically the lock on the doors to the training hall was so worn it broke the last time I checked."

I stood in silence as I didn't know my father had inspected the lock sometime in the last year.

"How come we don't use that training hall?"

"You're welcome to try and use a spell there. Not a dangerous one mind you, both of your mothers would gut me if you got hurt. Just try and you'll see. If you do end up heading there afterwards, don't touch the book on the podium."

Father gave me a grave stare with his last words. It almost sent me into a panic, but I managed to utter a response.

"Why?"

Father must've noticed my worried look and smirked before speaking.

"It's just a joke. Your uncle said to me one time that he touched the book wanting to learn the style written in it and had a nightmare. My father was angry about that time because he actually wet his bed. Hahaha."

So there were moments my father could look back fondly on. I thought.

"Did you ever read the tome?"

"Not really, I saw it when I was a child, but your uncle's prank made me think about having a nightmare the whole time I was looking through it and later that night I did. I think the idea was just planted in my head by him. Still I did get to see the Fear Style in action."

"Really?"

"Yep, my grandfather showed me the training hall and practiced his moves in front of me even before I touched the tome. It's kind of unfortunate that I didn't have an interest in learning a Style. Now that style is considered dead. No one practices it or teaches it, even your uncle uses a different style."

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"You didn't want to do both?"

"Hmm?"

"You didn't want to learn a style and sorcery?"

"Heh, I kind of wish more of you asked me as much about this stuff."

Father looked pensively at the floor.

"What do you mean?"

Father patted my head.

"None of your siblings care about subjects like 'family history' or 'what's this or that?' I'm an open book so I'll tell you everything you want to know assuming I have an answer. Getting back to your question. I can't learn both."

"Why not?"

"Theoretically it's impossible. The magic academy studied it for quite a while, 'why is it that wizards can cast spells but lack the capability to use a style?' A hypothesis is that our emotions are dulled by the way our minds adapt to casting spells."

There was a mentality that I never wanted to ascribe to myself in my new life. That kind of thinking where I see myself as something overly special. Sure my family now and back then claimed that I was, but I know better than to just take it at face value and coast on the praise alone. I reflected.

Father continued his explanation.

"On the inverse side, 'why can't style users cast spells?' That's where the magus council came to the conclusion it's impossible to do both. Style users have some innate magic suppression that makes them unable to perform magic. This suppression is usually identified in the person's childhood as a lack of magical aptitude or poor mana control in spite of proper training."

Without thinking I blurted out the nagging question that came out of Father's lecture.

"Are there exceptions?"

"People that have managed to still do both?"

"Yes."

"Then yes. I can think of two legendary examples, and one person we both know. The magus council itself did uncover a select few when looking for such people."

"Someone we know? Mother?"

It just clicked that Father had mentioned it earlier. Mother used healing magic countless times when some of my older siblings got hurt, even once when I scraped my knee.

It was a new thought entirely to know she once wielded a sword instead.

"That's right. Although, she's an enigma herself. She tried to teach me the Joy Style sometime when we first met. Then she was pregnant with Darvy, then Logan, and then with Page."

Father looked a bit embarrassed as he continued.

"Having to take care of those three took up her time, so she neglected brushing up on her Style skills. She came to see me setting up the first lesson for Kraimer. I had just learned how to cast a bit of the Elemental Set, I was good enough to teach Fire, Water and Earth but still working through Wind and Lightning. I jokingly asked her to try conjuring a fireball."

"She did it?"

"Yes, it looked practically effortless, like she could've done it at any time. I was speechless while she screeched in celebration. A while after that an angel visited the city while she was there and offered to teach your mother basic healing magic. That was after she invited the angel to stay at our castle. That was a day."

Father smiled as he reminisced.

"Is she still able to use a Style?"

"Nope, unfortunately. Even she doesn't know how it happened. She just stopped practicing for about five years and it happened like that."

"Who're the two legendary examples?"

"The previous Zen God, and the patron god your mother's Father worshipped. The Flame God."

"Wha-"

Before we could continue the conversation my elder siblings burst into the room. It was time for their lessons.

"Awauagh! Oh? Morning, Fred."

Darvy yawned and greeted me, he always looked groggy in the mornings but seemed to gain his energy as the day went on.

"Fred's still training with us for the time being?"

Kraimer chimed in with a question. He raised his eyebrow as he faced Father.

"Unfortunately no, we were just discussing some ideas while we awaited for all of you to arrive."

"So it's just the three of us again?"

Barrett wasn't very invested in her question but she didn't avoid my gaze. She didn't seem as bitter as before.

"Yes that's right. Well Fred we'll continue tomorrow."

I tugged on Father's arm and gestured him to get closer so I could whisper.

"Is it really okay to use the training hall? Mom made me promise not to go in there."

He decided to whisper back.

"Go ask her for permission then, I said it's fine. So if you're worried just let her know."

"Alright."

Father leaned in and kissed my forehead before patting me on the back to send me on my way.

I made my way towards my stepmother's room. On the way certain thoughts creeped in.

The thought crossed my mind that quite a lot of what I just heard was convenient. Fate was a concept I long ago disregarded but it seemed to spite me and desperately make itself known.

The nightmares and the Fear Style Manual really were linked on touch alone. Teresa must've met several of her descendants, or rather my ancestors, then.

I'm capable of doing both Magic and Sword Style techniques. It could be that I inherited it from Mother.

And luckily I now have express permission from Father to be in the dojo. That saves me the trouble of figuring out what could happen if Stepmother disapproved. I'm sure I can convince her.

Though I didn't tell Father I'd already been to the dojo, or that I was the one that broke the lock, that was just a minor omission. Well, I also haven't told him that I'd been practicing the Fear Style either. I said to myself.

Running ragged I finally found Stepmother. She wasn't in her room or Mother's room. I found her at Ibis's room.

Ibis and Stepmother were in the middle of reading a story.

"What is it Fred? Something happen?"

She looked a bit worried because of my out of breath look. I quickly recovered and let know it wasn't terribly serious.

"No I just wanted your permission."

Stepmother smiled and laughed off her nervousness.

"What is this about?"

"I mentioned the old wing yesterday. Is it okay if I go there? Father said it's fine."

"Tch. He was the one that said we shouldn't go near there in the first place. I guess it's fine, although I will ask him about it."

Stepmother might've suspected I'd crack or something from her stern stare. It wasn't outside of the job description for a parent to figure out if they're being lied to by their child.

Regardless, I maintained my composure.

"That's okay. I'll be accompanied by Hilly too. She's been watching over me for the past year anyway. The older maid Carmin put her up to it."

Stepmother relaxed.

"Good, then I won't worry too much. I spoke with Carmin, I might've been too harsh with Hilly the other day. But you can't blame me, she's quite startling with her undetectable presence. She did apologize to me early this morning as well. It seems she's making an effort to do as I asked."

"I'm glad. She's been my companion for the past year. I know she's weird sometimes but she's nice."

I rarely verbalized it but I really did appreciate Hilly.

She kept her promise not to tell anyone else about my hobby, and she even encourages me to continue. I thought.

"You have grown, Fred. I was worried you'd become more closed off as you got older, but I can see you're coming along just fine."

That's still not a great thing to say to someone who's normally reserved, but I accept your love too, Mom. I thought.

I got closer and gave Stepmother a hug before taking my leave to head back to the dojo.

It felt like many burdens were lifted. Even a minor secret like going to the dojo in the first place gave me some kind of guilt. That I might've worried my parents if they ever questioned where I was.

Then again, I didn't know when I'd finally tell them about the Fear style, about Teresa, and about the man I used to be.

Time went on.