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The Virtues' Magecraft
Page 50: Frustration

Page 50: Frustration

An empty thud echoed throughout the room as Gabriel's body clattered to the ground. His impact on a table broke its legs, leaving it to collapse to the floor. Even as a lamp crashed down onto his head, he managed to grab hold of a porcelain cup just inches before it hit the ground.

Gabriel was back at Archibald's office, just days after they returned from their mission on Vanaheim. He spat out a heavy sigh. His tiredness wasn't from any stress, even as the Virtues and Charles Archibald handled the repercussions of losing what the Association declared a destructive weapon.

His weariness came from the fact that his uncle, a man with the body of a sixty-year-old had beaten him time and time again. To the extent where furniture was destroyed, Gabriel accepted, setting down the lamp that struck him onto the polished wooden floor.

"I win," Archibald pointed out. "Again. That makes it... how much, Gabriel?"

Gabriel held in a breath, struggling to quell his shaky breathing, to stop his panting, even as he had the air knocked out of his lungs. "32-0."

"Yep." Charles Archibald smiled. "32 attempts of yours. And 0 successes."

The Paladin continued speaking as Gabriel remained on the floor. "Y'know, I was surprised when you asked me to train you. Are you feeling pressure from Alexander's rapid growth?"

"..."

"What'd I tell you about being honest with yourself?"

Gabriel spat out a sigh, his head drooping over and his golden curls cascading over his eyes. "Yeah," he coldly and plainly muttered.

The Paladin laughed, his toothy grin flashing as he spoke. "I'm guessing you must be pretty annoyed by it. Asking me for help is rare on your part."

Clearing his throat, Gabriel pushed himself up and forced himself to stand. His arms swayed as he brought himself to stand still, wiping his saliva onto his white sleeve. He had no response for his uncle.

And so, Charles Archibald continued for himself. "I'm guessing this is something purely mental. So... say something good about Alexander."

"What?"

"I chose you as the Virtue of Humility with a purpose, Gabriel. Because you have too much pride. But not just that; you're envious of what others are capable of. I can't exactly blame you, considering how your father raised you, but... You're better than that. You're limiting yourself with your thoughts," Archibald declared. "Be virtuous."

Gabriel clenched his jaw. "Alexander's an idiot. That's not coming from my 'pride', it's just objective. Still... He's perceptive."

The echo of Archibald snapping his finger reverberated through the office. "Yep. Alexander realizes what others can't in a battle. He understands more, he sees more. And he does more. Keep it going."

Gabriel's sight was fixed on the floor. He couldn't say something like this while making eye contact with another person. "Alexander doesn't hesitate. He exhibits no restraint. And he keeps moving. Every single time, he changes the conditions. He defies logic. Alexander thrives where no one else can."

A laugh burst out of Archibald's lips. He pressed his hand against his chest as he cackled. "There it is!" he said. "You just said it yourself, Gabriel."

"...Huh?"

"Alexander doesn't hesitate. That's wrong. Of course, he does. Everyone hesitates. But it's a start. Because you have to understand... You, Gabriel, hesitate too much."

Gabriel grit his teeth. He forced himself to stand, launching himself with a clenched fist. And with just a single step at Archibald...

Another blow landed on Gabriel's chest. And once again, he was knocked to the floor, sliding on the wood. Archibald let out a breath and pushed up his glasses as he continued. "Seriously, even now. I'm not even using Infinitesimal and you haven't landed a real hit on me in, what, 20 minutes?"

Gabriel gripped the side of his torso, struggling to catch his waning breaths. He placed one hand on the floor as he accepted his defeat. "Everyone hesitates," he coughed out. "What's your point, Uncle Charles?"

"You want me to be honest, Gabriel?"

Gabriel nodded, his sweaty hair curling and shaking with his moving head.

"I don't particularly like being honest with you, because it tends to inflate your already inflated ego. But you're a natural at all things involving magic at fighting. That's why you were chosen by Excalibur. That's why you were blessed with your amount of magic energy, and your two affinities. And that's why you've survived everything the World has thrown at you."

But Archibald knew Gabriel didn't come to hear that.

"In fact, I'd say you have more potential than Alexander. You have more talent, Gabriel. I don't have a doubt that you're going to surpass me someday. Someday soon, all things considered. But that won't happen if you don't change."

Archibald continued. "You and Alexander are far more similar than either of you can understand. But the thing is... You think too much. Or maybe the problem is that you think too slowly," Archibald spoke as he pondered, rubbing his hand against his chin.

The Paladin turned to the side and sat down on an antiquated chair. "Alexander doesn't waste time, in any case," he said, crossing his legs. "Think about what happened on the island. All seven of you Virtues were present. Most of you were injured, so I understand the hesitation. But if Hector passed through alone, we would've lost."

Gabriel stared at him, his eyes glaring with faint scorn and not-so-faint confusion. "We lost, either way."

"Indeed. And I had to deal with the repercussions. The least you could do is listen and understand what I'm telling you."

Gabriel's head was drooping as he spat out a sigh. He finally seated himself on the chair beside him and looked up at Archibald. "Continue, then."

"At the moment Hector escaped your reach... You gave up."

Gabriel clenched his jaw. "Are you saying-"

"You were willing to ask me for help, but not willing to receive it?" Archibald asked.

His nephew spat out another sigh and silenced himself.

"Good." Archibald took a sip from the cup of tea that sat on the table next to him. He placed the ornate teacup back down onto a saucer and let it sit, still steaming.

'Why was it always tea?' Gabriel asked himself. Archibald could transport anything to anywhere, but whenever he brought himself anything, it was always tea for some reason. 'And how the hell is it always prepared?'

As much as he wanted to ask, that would only detriment their conversation.

"You gave in, Gabriel. You gave in to fear. And I don't blame you for that. I can't blame any of you for what happened. But you want to improve, which is why I'm telling you this. You have to learn to listen to your instincts."

'Fear was the only instinct, though,' Gabriel grumbled to himself.

"Not just fear, not just whichever feeling shouts the loudest at you. All of your instincts. Because I know exactly what you were feeling. You were terrified, and rightfully so. But you wanted to move. You wanted to run into that Connection, even if the only thing waiting for you was death."

"Everyone has different reasonings for that feeling. But the fact is, you didn't listen to it. Alexander did. And that occurrence, Alexander doing what you couldn't do, has happened before. And it'll happen again."

Gabriel let out a sharp breath.

And the Paladin continued. "I could've told you that you have to get stronger physically, which you do. I could've said that you still need to improve on your control of magic energy. But until you learn to listen, and learn to act... you'll continue to be behind him."

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"Honestly..." Gabriel spoke. "I don't understand what you mean, Uncle Charles."

A sigh left Archibald's lips. "Simply put... You're not confident enough. But at the same time, you have a huge ego."

"...What?"

"Those aren't the same things, by the way. Your lack of confidence limits you. But your ego is large enough to mask it and force you to do what you think you can't. Your fear and your ego keep clashing. You keep thinking that you're going to figure everything out, even as you underestimate yourself. All instead of envisioning your stronger self. Maybe it's because you know who you really are, but you keep limiting yourself, even without knowing it. If you keep that up, you can forget about being as strong as me. You won't even catch up to Xerxes."

Charles Archibald gripped the arms of his chair and forced himself to stand with a grunt. "God, these old bones are messing me up."

"Get rid of your ego and replace it with confidence," Archibald concluded. "Do your best. Be selfish. That's the only way you'll improve."

He faced the side, staring at a polished wooden cane that sat against the pale blue wall.

With a swipe of his hand, his cane flew into his hand. For a second, the crimson gem that sat on its pommel glistened. "Think about what I said," Archibald told him. "Everything else comes with experience, time, effort. All of which you have, and will have, in great amounts."

"Except for time," Gabriel mumbled under his breath. "That's the one thing we're running out of."

His uncle was already leaving, already at the doorway before he stopped. Gabriel didn't speak to be heard, but Archibald still understood. "Have hope, Gabriel. You'll be dead without it."

The Paladin quickly headed out to meet an unnecessarily familiar face.

Xerxes Agnes stood there, waiting for him. The Chairman of the Magecraft Association. He was a lanky and olive-skinned man. He had brown, parted hair that curtained over his spectacles. And while his face was usually dressed with an amicable smile, only his blank and stale face remained.

Xerxes spat out a sigh. "You really had to add me into the conversation just to compare me? I'm not even that weak, you know."

"...You're pretty weak, though."

"I'm a Grade 1, Charles."

Archibald stood in silence for a moment. "You say that like that makes a difference."

With a sarcastic laugh, Xerxes began to walk down the corridor to the elevator. "I know you're joking, High-Grade." He turned his head to Archibald as the Paladin followed him.

"You're attending the meeting like last time, right?" Xerxes asked.

"The Grand Order?" Archibald scoffed. "Nope. It was fun the first two times because I got to annoy you in a new context. But, uh... It's no fun anymore. Besides, you don't even want me there."

Xerxes shook his head. "I don't. But only a High-Grade like you can force the King of Giants to back down when things get heavy."

"Oh, is that the Giant bastard?"

"...Yeah, you're being awfully annoying today. It's for the best if you don't come with me."

Archibald laughed as they entered the elevator. Archibald's office sat on the top floor of the Association's headquarters in New York. Except the Association had four headquarters in the city alone, and dozens more throughout the Union.

The Paladin pressed the button labeled '1' and continued the conversation. "I don't even know why you actually put effort into these things. It'll be easier if you keep yourself quiet and let the idiots argue with themselves."

"I don't have the patience for that, Charles."

"You don't have patience in general," Archibald said with a smile as they began their descent.

"Y'know, that's fair. That reminds me, though," he said, spitting out an exasperated sigh. "There are people fighting for your removal."

"My removal? As a Paladin?"

Xerxes nodded. "I trust you, Charles. I trust what you're doing. But I admit that I understand those that don't. You sent a group of kids to another realm to retrieve a weapon of mass destruction, and they lost. You sent a Paladin to handle the split forces of the Golden Dawn and she ended up dead. Now the council's expressing concern for whatever you colluded with von Hohenheim."

Archibald cracked his knuckles. Hollow pops crackled within his wrinkly skin and bony hands. "The kids needed experience."

"Not from a mission of this scale!" Xerxes shouted out. He let out his frustration with a grumble under his breath. "They weren't ready."

"They had fought demons before. Terrorists in another realm didn't seem like a huge step up."

The entire conversation, Xerxes' eyes had been facing what was ahead. Even now, he stared directly at the elevator doors and nothing else. But finally then, he turned and faced Archibald.

"There's no point in this argument where you win, Charles," he told him. "You messed up. I chose you to handle it, because you could do it alone. Even then, I said you should go with a team. How it ended is on you."

"You think I don't know that, Xerxes? Diane was killed under my orders. That's something I won't be able to forgive myself for," he said, pausing. Archibald spat out a sigh. "But it's not like that's an unfamiliar burden for me."

Xerxes clenched his jaw. "Yeah, I get it," he said, rubbing his neck as he fixed his sight on the floor. "I'll handle the Councilors, Charles. Focus on the Golden Dawn and the Virtues."

He let out a slight laugh. "You're lucky to have a friend in such a high place. So just wish me luck, Charles. And pray I don't get into more fights with any bureaucrats."

"Yeah, of course. Thanks, Xerx," Archibald spat out along with a sigh.

Xerxes looked up. "Wait, why aren't we on the ground floor yet?"

"Hm?"

Xerxes pressed against the button once again. This whole time, the elevator hadn't gone past the thirtieth floor. After the first twenty floors, it hadn't budged.

He took in a sharp breath, his thoughts running rampant. Who's doing this? Could this be an attack? Where's the energy coming from?

These thoughts filled his brain until he turned to Archibald. Charles was smiling.

'Oh.' He finally realized. Charles Archibald was the one controlling the elevator the whole time.

"I sincerely despise you, Charles."

The Paladin snapped his fingers and disappeared into the air.

Xerxes spat out a dry sigh as the elevator finally continued its path.

The Grand Order was a biannual meeting involving multiple leaders of each realm. And that was where Xerxes was heading.

Of course, many realms didn't have proper rulers, so each sent the equivalent of a high-ranking position. Senators, regional governors, and all the like. And as for the Norteon Union, why not send one of the leaders of their most important organization? That was Xerxes Agnes, the chairman of the Magecraft Association.

Since each other union or empire or state of the realm grew and shrunk in power or size in a matter of years, the delegates would constantly change. But the Norteon Union was strong. Unchangeable and unconquerable. His position in the Grand Order was stable.

Unfortunately.

Of course, many would consider partaking in the universal Grand Order to be a pleasure, an unbridled opportunity. But Xerxes Agnes was lazy. He, himself, didn't know if it came from hanging around Charles Archibald as a child, or if it was his natural state. Even then, it didn't change the dreariness that came with his job, even with the exclusion of the Grand Order.

Just a few years ago, he recalled. Just a few years ago... 'Councilor Milner was in charge of these meetings. But that damn bastard just had to kick the bucket and left me in charge.'

He spat out a sigh and stopped. His glasses were quickly fogging up under the wintry wind, even with the very first steps he took outside. Painfully so, it was still winter. Still, he trekked on through the bitter and dry streets of New York until he reached the Empire State Building.

It was still the tallest building in the city, unlike how it was on Earth. His thoughts didn't linger on that, however. After all, the World Tree sat inside the building.

The other branches of Yggdrasil were bright and loud, gleaming and burning lights that lit up the sky at any time of day or year. But not this one. This Branch led to Asgard. It was smaller, calmer, and tameable.

The pure spatial magic of the World sat inside.

As he entered, he tore off his gloves and removed his scarf. He stared inward.

The floor was a strange blend of concrete and marble, combining pale light and dull grey. All of it sat, brimming and glowing under the golden lightbulbs of the crystalline chandeliers. Wooden desks and tables sat all around them, people carrying papers and conducting calls.

Just dozens of meters away was a short staircase, leading into three separate hallways and the rest of the grand building. At its front, sat a grand pair of ornate wooden doors and silver handles.

That was his destination. Right at the front of the building, the World Tree.

"Good morning, Chairman Agnes," a woman's voice called out.

Noelle was a dark-haired woman with the same pale but sunned skin as Xerxes. Just like him, she wore a black suit and a white shirt, still without a tie. Her wavy hair sat in a knot behind her head that gently bounced as she approached him.

Even so, he didn't so much as glance at her. Xerxes had already met her countless times, but for each instance of the Grand Order, he was too focused to face anywhere other than forward.

"Hello, Madam Noelle," Xerxes said, his voice stale. Letting out a tired breath, he asked, "Who are the other delegates?"

She immediately handed him a thin folder of papers, just as she accepted his gloves and scarf. That was all her job was. To assist the top brass of the Association with all inter-realm travels and responsibilities.

As annoying as it could be, she was thankful that it was so simple. After all, Xerxes was the only one that exited the realm with official business. All department leaders and councilors only left to other realms for their personal lives and vacations.

"We were expecting one from the Kingdom of Brazil," Noelle told him, her voice gentle as she smiled at him. "But they refused to send anyone. Ever since the king died, his heir has been changing the way their kingdom operates on the global scale."

Xerxes grumbled. "It's that brat, isn't it? That kid I met a couple of years ago. Luca?"

She nodded.

"That kid's gonna be a pain as king."

"He already is," Noelle interrupted.

Xerxes chuckled to himself. "But who else? What about the Unified Principalities of India?"

Again, Noelle gave a simple response. She shook her head. "The U.P. isn't participating this time. We're going with the Empire of the Rising Sun."

She handed him a sheet of paper. "Yoichi Agawa. 24 years old and already the empire's Secretary of Defense."

"He looks good on paper," Xerxes said, his eyes glossing over the sheet and the information on it. "But if anything, that just means he'll be an annoyance in real life."

Noelle smiled. "On the contrary. I think you two will get along pretty well."

Another sigh left Xerxes' lips. "Nope. I remember how I was when I was his age. I would've smacked 20-year-old Xerxes if I met him today. Not even to knock some sense into him, just out of frustration."

He handed back the sheet of paper. "I'll be fine," he said aloud.

And with that, he kept moving onward. All he had to was pass through another set of doors to find the brilliant azure glow.

A sigh left his lips.

Xerxes rarely left Midgard. Inter-realm travel was never for him. Other than these assignments that came with his job, he only left the realm a handful of times. Most notably so a horrible attempt at a vacation on Alfheim that only ended in regret.

He would never get used to this, he decided. But that didn't stop him from stepping into the light. And that didn't stop him from passing into Asgard.