Chapter 2 - Childhood

Some things about me never change, regardless of the life I live. I caught a rock thrown by a couple of village bullies. Out of everyone in Lakewest Village (any guesses as to why it was named that), they were the resident tough guys. Their target was not me, but rather a girl around the age of eight. The same age I was now, physically at least. Still, I couldn’t sit back and let someone else get hurt. “Leave her alone. What did she do to you?” I shouted back at the bullies in a more scolding tone. They were older. Ten years of age, they had a solid foot or two advantage over me. Still, I felt I could win. “Why ya defending her anyway?” The bully, Trent Ulbrook. The leader of the group shouted. “She’s a beast-eared freak anyways. She’s going to hell.” I looked back at her, cat ears drooping amid her long auburn hair, a visual signifier that she was a demihuman. “She’s a person, like you or me. Never let me catch you calling her that again.” I shouted; however, this sent the lead bully into a frenzy. “Fine, if you want to protect your girlfriend that badly, here. Fight for her honor.” Trent balled his hands into fists and charged, swinging right at my face. I dodged. Over the years of hand-to-hand training, I was finally able to hone my reflexes enough to fight. His punch was long and drawn out, leaving him momentarily vulnerable to a counterattack. So I did, I sent a fist flying right into his nose. An audible crack could be heard as he stumbled back, clutching his nose with a groan. I seemed to have broken it. “You-” Trent went for another punch, this time for the gut. I looked at it, I should have dodged it. But something snapped in me, I saw Tetsuo in him, in his hands, I saw a knife despite there not being one there. I spaced out; that was enough for a score of hits to land. I was promptly kicked to the ground and spat on. I’ve been having those nightmares since the day I came here. Dying is not something you forget so easily. Still, I had ten more years to overcome that mental barrier. The girl rushed over to me, nervously inspecting me. “You don’t need to thank me.” I sighed. “I just did what I felt was right, not for anything personal.” I was always withdrawn from the other kids. I couldn’t relate to them because mentally I was still an adult. I was seen as an anomaly in the village because of it. Yet since all of the adults were busy, it was hard to find an appropriate conversation. “Let me do this…at least, to repay you.” She meekly squeaked before placing a hand on me. I felt the pain throughout my body begin to subside as I began to glow just faintly. The girl looked rather exhausted just from that display alone. “W-woah, what did you do? That was magic, wasn’t it? You can use magic?” I exclaimed. “Mhm. I’m the priest's daughter…Grace Wanders. N-nice to meet you.” She certainly did resemble a priestess. But a demihuman priest was rare. On paper, they were allowed to serve as a member of the clergy. In practice, it was rare for them to even exist, as they are rather ostracized due to their animal-like features. “Thanks…for healing me Wa- I mean Grace.” I still had that habit of calling people by their last name. “...Razan Hamada. My father is the local butcher.” I introduced myself. I suppose someone like me was also very rare. However, Grace simply shook her head in response. “No, don’t thank me. I have to help others.” It reminded me a lot of myself. I suppose we were more or less the same in that regard. Though something about her was strange. Like she was holding herself back. Then I realized something. Magic could be key to fulfilling the contract. If I learned it from her, perhaps I could have an advantage. “Hey, Grace, can you teach me how to do that? I want to learn magic too.” I asked her, a bit eager to learn, I may get shot down, but who knows, you always miss one hundred percent of the shots you don’t take. Plus, something about this new lease on life made me a bit more easygoing about attempting things I want to do. “Well, not j-just anyone can learn magic.” Grace began. “Y-you need to have the proper aptitude for it, and that is u-usually determined by your parents.” In other words, neither of mine had the aptitude, so I shouldn’t have it either. I decided to follow the instructions and heal a minor cut Grace made on my palm. I wasn’t able to. I think I made it bleed a bit more. “Hehe, you make…such a funny face when you try to cast magic.” I realized then and there I had scrunched my face a bit in effort, and, embarrassed, I tried to hide it. “Hah, that was intentional, you see…extra…focus.” I was not fooling anyone. “Guess I don’t have it in me.” I sighed and lay back down on the ground. The grass felt nice on this cool summer day. Grace sat next to me. We sort of sat there, I guess we were both the town outcasts. That made us something, I suppose.

My thirteenth year in this new world crept up on me with a surprising amount of speed. Grace and I became fast and easy friends. As much as I didn’t want to get attached due to the nature of why I’m here, it was hard not to. She was the only person outside of my family to be nice to me. As I woke up in my room the next morning, my father walked in. Not by birth, but by adoption. I was found on the doorstep. It was a scene out of a movie, but the first few years of my life felt like a fever dream of some kind. He looked slightly more stern than usual, and without so much as a word, he beckoned me to follow him. I did so, and before me sat a sword and shield. “Did you buy this from the blacksmith father?” I asked, a bit surprised. The shield had a decorative bear design on the front. Similar to the mascot of the school I taught at. Yet at the same time, there were strange lines that gave the occasional eerie glow. The sword seemed to be decently sized, yet the insignia and the strange lines gave it an otherworldly vibe. This felt slightly too above the average smithy’s pay grade. “This? You’d probably only see this in the magic cities of the Elves.” He spoke in a rather gruff tone. “This was found next to you that fateful day you came into your lives. You’re a man now in the eyes of our people. I figured now would be the time for you to hold your birthright.” For the first time, my father smiled. As if a sense of pride encompassed him. “Thanks…I do appreciate it.”

The next day, sword tutor lessons began. I spent the entire year routinely getting beaten up by an even grumpier-looking man than my father. He was a retired hero. Someone well known in his heyday in the Hero’s Guild. A place where prospective heroes receive work that usually consists of helping little old ladies cross the street, or- “Stop daydreaming!” I felt the blunt end of a sword as Argas, the instructor's name, swung at me. “What a weird sword and shield, magic...yet it does nothing. But it takes more than a good brain to win a fight; you need strong steel and plenty of brawn as well. If you got none o’ that, then you may as well go home.” Argas grunted as he swung again. This time, I blocked it with my shield. Yet when the thought of my shield crossed my mind. My sword vanished. All I had was my shield. “Draw your sword! We’re not finished yet!” Argas continued to swing, yet all I could do was block. As he struck, I felt the shield become heavier and heavier. The glow of magic began to shine brighter as well. I wished I could get the load off of this shield, then it happened. Right on cue, a beam of light shot out from my shield and into Argas, and he was sent flying in a burst of magic right through a fence. “I-I’m sorry, Master Argas, I didn’t mean to!” I stammered. I felt as meek as Grace right about now. “I didn’t know where my sword we-” I saw my sword now in my hand. I felt a bit lighter and stronger now as well, though my shield was gone. Argas, however, simply rose from the wreckage and laughed. “Why is that a fine shield or what? You have something good, cherish it, and learn to use it.” With that, drills continued. Yet even as they came to a close for the day. I still felt myself asking questions about what kind of magic weapon this was, and how to use it.

Remaining participants: 100/100.

Game status: Awaiting start.

Razan Hamada Status: Alive.