As the chapter of the invasion came to a close, so came the time to count the losses.
Big parts of the village had taken considerable damage and many, both young and old, were wounded. Fortunately, the death toll was low, partially thanks to the heroics of various individuals.
The villagers had already been notified of the conflict's end and silently uttered their prayers of thanks. What would follow was a long night of clearing out debris and gathering the wounded.
Among those wounded, Riaz and the girls had been put up in the local meeting hall, which served as a makeshift hospital for the time being.
Many lamps and torches lit up the streets as people wearily walked around. To no surprise, silence hung above the people within the damp atmosphere of the night and none of the volunteer workers had the usual pep in their step.
On one wide street, the silence was broken by the resounding bickering of an old man.
"You foul excuse of a man, where have you been all this time? Do you have no compassion for the people?" Misaf protested, strolling alongside the blade king named Roa.
Roa paid no mind to the old man. He was on his way to fetch his horse and to make sure it had weathered the events without harm.
"Don't avoid me! What were you up to while the villagers were in danger?" Misaf didn't let things rest and kept on nagging.
"Old man, lay off already. Naturally, I had my own considerations." Roa said seriously.
Misaf was at a loss of words. Of course he knew that Roa had no ties to the village, but, knowing his strength, he couldn't help but feel bitter about his lack of participation.
Little did he know that Roa had his hands full dealing with an annoying character of unknown origins. Were it not for that man, Roa wouldn't have hesitated to take Riaz away.
However, he couldn't be bothered to explain himself.
Roa threw a glance at the old fella who seemed to have gained extra wrinkles from the ordeal and asked, "What of his foster family?"
"Who? Oh, you wish to know of them." Naturally Misaf knew of only one person that Roa would be concerned about.
Misaf begun to explain, "Obrid, the father, was found in bad shape and our clerics took immediate measures to preserve his life."
He then recalled something and continued, "Silly boy, the moment he opened his eyes, he set out to retrieve the remains of his dead wife and son. Fortunately, his daughters may yet recover."
Roa acknowledged, "Mhm. Somehow my disciple protected those girls of his, but the rest is up to fate."
The old man could only agree and lowered his head.
"The tragedy will have left the two girls of Obrid's worse for wear, no doubt. It will be difficult, truly difficult, even for the young Riaz." The old man sighed.
Roa waved his hand and asserted, "No matter. I'll take him away from this place and instill the fortitude of a true warrior into him. This chapter will be but the first stepping stone."
Misaf complained, "Who will you take? The boy? Forget it!" He stopped walking and pointed his walking stick at Roa. "Don't be so smug, just because you can swing your sword a bit skillfully."
"Che." Roa clicked his tongue and a chunk from Misaf's beard fell down like leaves from a tree. Cold sweat formed on Misaf's forehead. He could neither see the blade nor even react in time.
"I'm not taking the brat against his will." Roa retorted. "He will definitely choose to follow me, because I can offer him strength. He has that fire in his chest, I have seen his resolve with my own eyes."
"I still won't allow it. We must convene all elders and carefully deliberate on what to do with the young sapling." Misaf naturally wasn't blind to Riaz's interests.
It was true that Riaz would probably choose to follow the blade king, if lured by the prospects of gaining power. Nonetheless, he couldn't fully trust this blade king Roa to not put the boy in harms way.
Annoyed by Misaf's stubbornness, Roa sneered, "Old man, just why do you insist on getting in the way? Who is this brat to you?"
Misaf's eyes shone briefly at the question. "You wouldn't know, but I am positive that young Riaz possesses a divine marking, much like mine and yet different. It does not resemble anything I've ever seen or read about."
Contrary to what Misaf expected, this didn't deter the blade king and only made him more determined to have him.
"Disciple is fierce and mysterious, just to my liking." The blade king smirked. "Listen, you saw what he's capable of. Are you saying that you could prevent him from turning into a disaster for your village?"
Of course Misaf knew what Roa was speaking of. Indeed, he remembered the terror of facing that dark shadow. Should Riaz lose control again, could he then truly take responsibility?
Roa saw that Misaf was earnestly considering his words and added, "There are few on this continent that are a match for me. He will travel alongside me and learn to control his strength, learn to become its master. Here, he will only wither away until it is too late."
Roa stopped and looked Misaf in the eyes, "I am sure you will make the right decision."
With that said, he didn't wait for a reply and walked off.
Staying behind, Misaf blankly stared at the sky and muttered, "Benevolent gods, must I sent him out? What if he isn't ready?"
The stars on the firmament twinkled, but really, was there anyone listening?
---
Time passed and most of those injured or otherwise afflicted had been treated in the 'hospital'.
When Riaz woke up, he felt pain over his entire body. His body lay on a makeshift hay mattress that was laid out on the floor, one of many within the hall he found himself in.
He could see the sunlight through the cracks of a window, but couldn't tell how much time had passed. The last thing he could remember was that he was fighting the bandits to protect the girls until he for some reason passed out.
'Right, I remember a searing pain in my chest, then the pendant... The pendant!'
Riaz raised his upper body in a haste and winced, "Damn, it hurts..."
He lifted his blanket and found that he was dressed in nothing but his underwear while his upper body was fully covered in bandages.
"Now, where is it?" He found a stack of neatly folded clothes next to him, but the pendant and ring were not among the pile.
Lifting his head, he scanned the hall for people and beckoned towards a nearby middle-aged woman who was carrying a washing basin.
He frantically called out to her, "Excuse me! My belongings, what happened to my belongings?"
"Huh? Goodness, young man, you really mustn't move about in your condition. Hurry up and lie down, quickly!"
The kind woman put aside the basin and rushed to his side, helping him lay down with a gentle touch.
"T-thank you, but where are my belongings? They are not inside my clothing, perhaps..."
The woman put a finger to her chin and pondered for a moment before saying, "Actually, I am fairly sure that you had no personal effects on you when you arrived. Maybe you're better off asking the person who brought you here."
Riaz grew more restless and asked, "Then the person who brought me here, can you tell me their name?"
"Oh, he wasn't local, that for sure. We don't make them like this here. What pity he never gave his name." She blushed.
"Believe me, I'll never forget that dominant gait, those firm broad shoulders and those proud, spiteful eyes that tease you with a promise of adventure. Hah, what a dashing hero." The woman looked visibly immersed in the picture her words painted.
'Who???' Riaz was at a complete loss for words.
A man approached from nearby, clearing his throat. "Now, I think that's enough out of you, Berta. Why don't you stop filling this child's ears with your nonsense? What would your husband say if he heard you?"
Berta rolled her eyes and complained, "Father Olden, you wouldn't know. Have you seen my husband? Ptui, an old good-for-nothing, he has retired himself to the bottom of his tankard."
Father Olden shook his head. "The holy matrimony must not be disparaged by loose tripes. Mayhaps a few more chores would give you ample time to think about the blessings in your life."
"Oh spare me your sanctimonies, Father, I'm going already." Berta reached down to lift the basin and scurried off.
Father Olden chuckled, then turned towards Riaz and winked.
After witnessing the verbal exchange, Riaz could only wrily smile while he took a closer look at this Father Olden.
He was a man of middle-age with short hair. A few, visible grey stripes on the sideburns certified his years. His overall appearance was immaculate, though his bearing was very relaxed and unrestrained.
"What's the situation in the village? Are we still under attack?" Riaz asked.
Father Olden reassured him, "Do not fret, the worst has come to pass. Now we must lick our wounds and rebuild. You and your two little friends were brought in with serious injuries."
The priest took a good look at Riaz and nodded to himself.
"You seem to have recovered a lot. I have heard of your accomplishments; truly admirable, young man. However, I do have some bad news to deliver."
Riaz trembled. He cautiously asked, "Father... is this about the girls? Did something happen to them?"
Father Olden's eyes went wide. "What? Oh, don't misunderstand, your two little friends are fine, rather it is you who is the problem. I'll be candid, son, your excessive use of mana has not only fried your mana circuits, but also greatly damaged your mana core."
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Riaz blinked his eyes. "Sorry?"
The priest pulled up a stool to sit on and explained, "Since you have learned magic, I can only assume that you know what happens when you draw more mana than your core can handle."
Riaz lifted his hand with effort and interrupted, "Wait wait, hold on. Is there perhaps some mistake? I don't know how to use magic!"
"Not to sound rude, young man, but, when I examined your condition, there were no doubts about it. But wouldn't you know best? Surely you would have noticed when your mana dried up." Father Olden was skeptical and wasn't hiding it in the slightest.
It wasn't a question Riaz could answer. Needless to say, it felt quite frustrating that he kept waking up in unfamiliar places with more questions than answers every time.
'Is this the third time now?' He sighed. Still, he was glad to hear the girls were fine. He was almost certain that he had failed to protect them. It was such a relief.
Father Olden cleared his throat. "Well, no matter. All you really must keep in mind is not to use mana for the time being. I have used great means to do what I can, but could merely mend the damage. It would take no less than a miracle for your core to fully recover."
Riaz wasn't too concerned about all that mana business. When it came to magic and everything related to it, he didn't know or see much besides a few mentions in Misaf's book collection.
He lowered his head and clenched his fists. "How long must I stay in bed? I really can't stand idling about and doing nothing, now more than ever."
Father Olden stood up saying, "Relax, child. What's the rush?"
"You are free to leave whenever you like, but avoid taxing your body too much. You haven't fully recovered yet. Ah, you may also want to see your little friends before you go." Father Olden pointed to another busy corner of the hall where a big man stood out.
Riaz's eyes became cloudy as he whispered the name "Obrid."
The little Lissy was being carried by her father and tightly clung to his shoulders. Leria was there as well, weakly standing beside them.
Only now did Riaz really take notice of an area with white sheets draped over what seemed to be the bodies of the deceased.
He remembered the events of the raid and felt pain in his heart. Everything had happened too suddenly.
"It may seem like there's not much you can do, but in times of need even just a few words can help tremendously." Father Olden advised Riaz and prepared to take his leave.
Riaz acknowledged with a nod and expressed his thanks, then the priest left him to attend others.
Riaz felt thankful that Obrid and the girls were fine, but, beside this little piece of solace, there was little to rejoice about.
In that respect, many within the hall were in no mood to clamor. People silently grieved, received treatment and paid their respects to the dead.
Riaz decided to stretch his legs and stood up with great difficulty. He quickly changed into the clothes that someone had kindly prepared for him and stepped outside.
He didn't really feel like talking to Obrid and the girls. As things were, he still felt quite vague towards them, like he had no right to insert himself into their grieving process.
It felt quite stuffy inside, but the fresh air outside gave him a more welcoming feeling while also taking a weight of his chest.
He loitered by the entrance for a while, taking a look around and observing the ongoing restoration efforts. The people were tirelessly piling up the rubble onto carts and moving around various materials.
Without a doubt, none of them had a lot of time to rest ever since the bandits had retreated. One had to respect the tenaciousness displayed by villagers of Lefra. The disaster had passed and their eyes were already set towards the future. All things considered, he felt conflicted about his own future in the village.
Riaz lifted his head towards the sky and watched the drifting clouds.
'I've never felt more out of place than now. Where exactly do I go from here?'
He remembered the days he had spent living in the village and his interactions with the many kind people during that time.
Every day, he felt somewhat uneasy deep inside, like he was putting off something important, but those feelings were always drowned out by the happiness of living a simple life. There was little doubt that a big part of him was happy giving in and letting go of all the burdens of the past.
He almost felt like he was living the ideal life. Be that the truth or not, but being happy wasn't enough. He realised it then and there, that he could not truly relax until he removed all doubts about himself first.
He stared at his palm and closed his hand, then opened it.
'I can still remember the sensation of that energy flowing. It's such an odd feeling, but the sensation comes naturally. Old me, is this the fruit of your labor?'
This power came to him like an olive branch from the past. He decided to accept it; it would help him greatly on his journey.
"Brat, are you done with your inner monologue?" A man called out to him from nearby. Riaz promptly snapped out of his thoughts.
Someone was leaning against the wall of the building, a big rucksack at his feet.
"Ah, you are..." Riaz made eye contact with the man and recognized his face.
He couldn't have forgotten him so easily, not from the circumstances they've first met under. This man had left a deep impression on both him and the locals.
Upon a closer look, he looked not much different from last time. He had hair that was black, long and greasy, all loosely bound into a male-fashioned ponytail. His eyes were a deep brown, which, in combination with his slightly thin and angular eyebrows, made his gaze look naturally fierce.
Both the leather cuirass and the scabbard around his waist boasted great craftsmanship that even a layman like Riaz could appreciate.
The swordsman, Blade King Roa, gave Riaz a quick once over.
"All things considered, you've made quite a quick recovery. I'd expect no less, since there's more to you than meets the eye after all."
"What are you trying to say?" Riaz grew somewhat annoyed, their last encounter still fresh on his mind.
"It is too late to pretend that there is nothing out of the ordinary about you, kid. The earlier you come to terms with it the better."
Riaz lowered his head. "I know that. Still, what am I supposed to do? I won't have any answers just by wishing for them."
"I detest wasting my time, so let me cut straight to the point." Roa separated from the wall. "You are a danger to yourself and the people of this village."
"Eh?" Riaz was stunned. He felt like this swordsman was exaggerating.
"Let me guess, you forgot. Since you have a history of forgetting what's important, let me help you fill in some gaps. Listen closely, since I'll only tell you once."
Roa proceeded to explain the events of Riaz losing control and being possessed by an enigma that utilized dark mana.
Listening to the explanation, Riaz almost felt his jaw hit the curb. Those developments were too outlandish and hard to swallow. However, coupling the information with the clues about his mana core, it became a tad more believable.
'Now that I think of it, didn't I see a dream after passing out? A boy and a girl... I am sure the boy manipulated a dark energy or something.' Riaz tried to recall the scene he had seen.
"There you have it. As you are now, you are weak yet dangerous, but, most of all, you are still green; combine that and people will not hesitate to take advantage of you." Roa didn't mince his words.
Riaz wanted to object, but, if what this man said was true, then he could see why influential figures would aim to control him for their own purposes.
"That being said, my offer from last time still stands." Roa broached a previous subject.
'An offer? There was that, right...'
Riaz remembered that this swordsman had previously asked him to become his disciple. Back then, he wanted nothing but to live in peace, but things didn't turn out the way he wanted to. He knew that he had to change.
Roa wildly gestured with his arm and put strength into his voice. "Learn the sword from me and I will open up your path towards excellence."
Riaz probed, "And if I don't?"
"You'd be wise not to squander this opportunity, you brat. Without me, you'd be hard-pressed to earn the strength you desire, besides..."
The corner of Roa's lips rose up and he stretched his fist out towards Riaz. When he opened his palm, a crystal pendant dropped and dangled from his fingers.
"I am sure you'd hate to part with your precious items." Roa was well aware that Riaz held some attachments to his possessions.
Riaz visibly swallowed and exclaimed, "You're the dashing hero?!?!?"
Caught off guard, Roa quickly shot back, "The what now? Well, you are half-right, but I am no hero."
Riaz only belatedly noticed, but looking closer at the swordsman's hand, he could recognize his missing ring. This man had taken both of his precious items while he was unconscious.
"Why do you have what's mine?" Riaz grew angry.
"There is something fishy about your little crystal here, so I'll hold onto it. As for the ring," Roa sneered, "you are not worthy, it's that simple."
Riaz was about to say something when Roa cut him off, "However, if you become strong enough, I will naturally hand these items back to you."
Clenching his fists, Riaz silently pondered. Moments passed, then he finally opened his mouth and asked, "Are you strong?"
The gaze that he directed at Roa was unwavering. He decided to take a chance. Whether this was the path to strength or ruin, he resolved himself to take a step forward.
Feeling quite amused, Roa replied with a mere two words, "Very strong."
Riaz didn't need to hear more. He had already felt the man's aura and came up with his own conclusions. It felt like an invisible blade was aimed at his neck.
Mustering his conviction, he practically shouted, "Master!"
Satisfied with the result, Roa smiled then put away the crystal pendant and instead picked up the rucksack that had been next to him all this time.
"Remember, disciple, my name is Aldean. I hold the title of Blade King Roa."
'Blade King; don't think I've read about that, but it sure does sound overbearing.'
Aldean tossed the rucksack towards Riaz. "Here, take this and wait for me by the eastern entrance of the village. I won't be long."
Riaz caught it with difficulty. "So heavy, what's inside?"
"What? Did you think we would travel without provisions, chewing grass and breathing sunlight? I've gathered the necessities in there. Make sure to carry it well during our travels."
"Can't your horse carry it?" Riaz remembered that stallion his teacher rode into the village. "Moonshine, wasn't it?"
"Huh, sure, why don't I just go and make the horse into my disciple while I'm at it? Brat, just treat it as training."
Riaz felt wronged and blurted out, "I haven't fully recovered yet. Teacher, don't you think this is kinda— ouch!"
He didn't even get to finish complaining when his master arrived next to him and decked him over the head.
Riaz whined, "W-why?"
Aldean clicked his tongue and disappeared, making a mental note to himself to beat that whiny attitude out of his disciple sooner rather than later.
--
Riaz took the rucksack to the appointed place, but not before finding Misaf and saying goodbye.
The old village head was visibly irritated and only begrudgingly gave his blessings to the young man's plans Lastly, he passed him a slip of paper. It had directions on it to help Riaz find an old acquaintance of Misaf's.
Misaf briefly explained to Riaz that meeting that person would perhaps yield some clues regarding the marking on his chest.
He advised Riaz not to flaunt the mark in public, unless he had no other choice, but when Riaz inquired about the meaning of divine markings, Misaf refused to tell him, insisting that he first grow stronger before delving into that matter.
And so, Riaz now stood under the sun, basking in its warm light. Half an hour passed by until someone came to find him. Contrary to his expectations, it wasn't his teacher but Obrid instead.
"Thinking of leaving without saying good-bye? To think I'd have to hear it from the old coot, instead of hearing it from your own mouth." His rough voice resonated deeply with Riaz who felt somewhat guilty.
Riaz lowered his head, avoiding eye contact. He could tell that Obrid looked miserable and he could hear the stench of alcohol coming from him.
"Obrid, I didn't... really, I just thought it was better of me not to show my face. Leria, Lissy, both of them could have died, all because of my shortcomings."
Obrid raised a fist and Riaz flinched, expecting a punch by reflex, but the former only bumped his fist against Riaz's chest.
"They live. They coulda died, but they lived. They lived thanks to you, kid. You were the man they needed you to be, no more no less."
Riaz's eyes narrowed sadly. "Obrid..."
Obrid forced himself to smile and gave another knock on the boy's chest. "Be proud, kid. I know I am. From here on out you have to train hard. Spare no effort, then you won't regret a thing even if things turn ugly."
A tear squeezed its way out of Riaz's eyes and he quickly brought his forearm up to wipe it off.
Riaz looked up and smiled. "You know I will, but I doubt swinging a sword will be the quite the same as swinging a hoe, heh."
Obrid laughed, "Trust me, there is no difference, I would know. As long as you keep swinging, you will be rewarded all the same."
"Take this, you will need it." Obrid handed Riaz a little pouch.
Riaz opened it up and exclaimed, "Coins? Can I really take this?"
"Of course, you've done the work, now you've got somethin' to show for it, even if it's not much."
"Thanks Obrid, for everything." Riaz felt truly grateful.
Obrid placed a hand on Riaz's shoulder. "Kid, I won't keep you. Also, I understand how you feel, but at least make sure to visit the girls if you're in the area some day."
"I will." Riaz replied curtly.
Obrid then left and Riaz waited until his teacher, Aldean, finally showed up after another hour of waiting, bringing his horse Moonshine along with him.
What caught Riaz's attention was the leather bag strapped to the horse. It clearly held a bundle of swords within.
"Have you settled your affairs? It's your last chance to look back. Once we leave, I'll expect you to look forward, so don't leave any regrets."
Briefly, Riaz was reminded of Leria, but she was someone he didn't want to think about right now and so he shook his head.
"I am all good, can we hurry up and go, teacher?"
Aldean frowned. "Brat, what's the rush? We still have plenty of daylight. I hope you've eaten, because we're not stopping for at least five hours."
Riaz wanted to complain, but decided against it. Instead, he brought the rucksack with him and approached his teacher.
"By the way, teacher. What kept you so long and what's with that bundle of swords?" He stood on his toes and try to get a look into the leather bag.
Aldean mounted his horse and glanced at the bundle before replying, "You'll understand soon. As for what kept me, well. Let's say I had to save a damsel in distress."
Furrowing his brows, Riaz belatedly noticed a hickey on his master's neck. He really wanted to curse. 'What damsel? Didn't you say you were no hero? More like dashing bastard.'
His master kept to himself and spurred on his horse.
The master and disciple soon left the village behind them.
All the while, Riaz, faithful to his new-found conviction never looked back and took his first steps towards an unknown destiny.