ACT V
THE GLORY WARS
proxybaba Rejoice !! The series will continue with a new schedule. One chapter a day till Chapter 170. The End of Glory Wars Act
After three days of venting his anger, he visited his grandma's quarters, concerned about discreetly sending the potion he needed. Upon entering, he found Rudolf working on a flask of sparkly yellow liquid.
"Is that It, gramps?" he inquired.
Rudolf looked up and replied, "It better be worth it, squeaky. I really don't like Sierra in that state."
Hans teased, "Can't a loving husband like you take care of her for three days? And people call you caring—"
"Thok...Ouch..." Hans exclaimed, "Violence from the start; no wonder I'm learning bad things."
Rudolf retorted, "Oh, shut up, Hans. I'm serious; that potion drains Sierra. So you better ensure the first year will repay its worth."
Hans declared, "I hate debt, whether it's mine or someone else owes me one; I'll collect it for sure."
Rudolf considered, "Yeah, yeah, talk big all you want, but how are you going to send it to Clandor?"
"That's what's puzzling me," Hans replied, mimicking Rudolf's thoughtful pose. Rudolf then answered his own question, "I knew it! You might not be aware since you don't have a family outside, but students send things back and forth to their homes. It can only happen once a month, and it's backed by Concordia so no one messes with it—"
"Hans's face lit up as he exclaimed, 'That solves it. Thanks, Gramps!' He secured the vial in a firm package and headed for the first-years’ lecture halls, muttering, "Better grab my minion first." It didn’t take him long to reach the Vanir’s class. "Darn my luck, it's Prof. Martha’s class," he cursed.
Hans hesitated at the door but was already the centre of attention, including Prof. Martha's stern gaze. "What troubles are you making in my class, Mr. Hans?" she asked, her brows furrowing.
Hans pointed at Vanir, sitting in the middle of the class. "I just need that guy, just for a little bit—"
Martha sighed, growing impatient. "You want to take my student in the middle of a class?" Hans replied, spreading a long smile on his face, “Even if I say pretty please.” Seeing his shamelessness, Martha relented, “Whatever, just don’t disturb my class.” With this, she signalled Vanir to take his troublesome senior away from her and after they crossed some distance, Vanir asked, “What brings you here?” but his half-spoken words came to a halt when Hans showed him the potion, “The thing you were waiting for.”
“Th..thank you, I’ll never forget this senior —”
“Let's send it and write a letter too,” Hans said, nodding. Vanir, tears of happiness in his eyes, readily agreed. He had blamed himself for his father’s condition and his family’s downfall, but in his hand was the means to rectify some of his past mistakes. “Yes, senior, let's send it,” he affirmed, wiping his eyes. After completing the necessary formalities, they dispatched the package to Vanir’s home."
“Just become the warlock, if you feel that grateful,” Hans remarked, observing Vanir's grateful expression.
“Yes, I’ll do it at any cost,” Vanir replied. While he felt thankful to Hans, a sense of responsibility now weighed on him. What if he failed? The question began to gnaw at his conscience. However, before the doubt could take a stronger hold, Hans interjected, “Of course, you’ll become one, I’ll make you because I said so.”
Later, the two of them began accumulating credits, and another week slipped by. Hans now had 1950 credits to his name, earned through hunting, gathering, and a whirlwind of various tasks during the past week.
"I need a big one, at least 1500 credits. Where is it? Where?" He was on the lookout for a high-yield task, having been dissuaded from taking on a perilous assignment by the hall master due to his limited resources. However, his eyes suddenly landed on a familiar listing. "Agrilands needs a research apprentice - credits depend on the candidate’s capability," he read aloud. "Wait, I'm more than capable, and who better than me for this?" A wide grin once again spread across his face as he set off for Agrilands.
CLANDOR’S SUBURBS ZINWEN TERRITORY
"What kind of student lives in a place like this?" muttered the delivery man as he touched down in the Zinwen slums. Surveying the surroundings once more, he added, "And Elves claim we're uncivilized. They should take a good look in the mirror first. Well, who cares? Dorfeil, Dorfeil. Where's that parcel? Ah, found it."
The man spotted a child poking at the ground with a stick, the youngster's clothing thoroughly dirtied from head to toe. "No matter what, parents should at least watch over their children. Don't meddle; you're just a delivery guy, a DELIVERY GUY," he reminded himself sternly, then addressed the child. "Is this Dorfeil—"
Before he could finish, the child bolted indoors as if he'd seen a ghost, slamming the door shut. He peeked out and in a childlike voice asked, “What to you want mishter?”
The delivery person tried to reassure the boy, saying, "I'm not a bad person—"
“Every bat pershon says tat,” the child retorted.
Not making any progress, the delivery personnel retrieved the letter and said, "Someone named Vanir sent a gift for you." Instantly, the boy flung open the door in excitement, asking, " “Did my brother really shend it?”
"Yes, now, where are your parents? I need to give it to them."
The child ushered the man inside and gestured for him to follow. The mention of his brother's name by the stranger was enough to dispel any unease the child had been feeling earlier. He was now moving forward with hope. However, just as they had behaved previously, the adults in the house reacted the same way. They grabbed the child and positioned themselves protectively in front of him. A weary-looking woman spoke, "We don't have anything, please leave."
“What is wrong with these people? Can't they see my uniform? Nobody willingly ventures into the slums, and here I am, a volunteer. Now I get it, their hospitality is no laughing matter." Clearing his throat, he continued, "I have a package for Anavan Dorfeil—"
“He is my husband.”
“Yes, not my concern, just confirm your identity and I’ll be on my way.” the delivery man said and resolved, “I’m never volunteering for anything, they fooled me since I was new.”
After completing the necessary formalities, he hastily left the area, as if there were no tomorrow.
The woman examined the contents of the parcel. She possessed the ability to read and write, as they had once been a knightly family. If not for the oppression imposed by the territory lord, she could have found employment. She then proceeded to open the attached letter
“Dear Mom and Dad,
I hope you're doing well. A lot has happened since I came here. I met an amazing person who helped me a lot. At first, some people treated me badly because of our family, but this person protected me. I've decided to learn from this senior. I hope you can meet him someday. He heard about Dad's illness and sent me this box, saying it can help him get better."
The woman whispered, tears welling up in her eyes, "My dear son, all I ever wanted was for you to leave us behind, soar high, and be free. But we are still shackling you. There is nothing free in this world. When will you realize that? Even after all you've been through, do you still place your trust in those who hold power? To them, you are just an effective tool to be used.” She was filled with worry, but as she picked up another piece of paper beside the letter, she discovered words that didn't belong to her son written on it.
"Greetings,
I am Hans, a second-year student currently in a mentor-mentee association with your son. I am compelled to write to you regarding a matter of great concern.
I have observed your son overwhelmed by feelings of hatred and an intense desire for vengeance. In light of this, I have taken the initiative to send a potion that may provide relief from his suffering. My affection for your son is profound, and my only aim is to alleviate his pain. However, I wish to stress that this potion has the capacity for immediate healing. Therefore, I strongly recommend its gradual administration in small doses. A swift and complete recovery may inadvertently draw unwarranted attention and complications.
I firmly believe that only a father's guidance can provide the comfort and support necessary for your son to transcend this painful period. I implore you to consider this matter thoughtfully and exercise discretion in the use of the potion.
Please rest assured, Your son is in good hands."
“He must be a well-taught noble," Vanir's mother commented, unaware that Hans had plagiarised most of the content. Skimming the content again, her concern deepened. She muttered, "Vanir has sunken in something that he can't get out.". She contemplated opening the package but was interrupted by another man, to whom the entire family owed a great debt, entering the room. "What do we have here, sister-in-law?" he inquired, playfully tousling the little kid's hair. She displayed both letters to him, prompting him to reflect.
"If this indeed works," the man remarked, "then we may find ourselves facing far more formidable times, sister-in-law."
"Yes, it would mean that Vanir would be entirely at that person's mercy—"
"That might have been the deal, no noble does things like these without expecting anything," The man remarked again, a bit of confusion in his tone, "Getting something that could heal Anavan, is simply not possible even for high-ranked nobilities, and even royals have to open their secret stash. But if that thing works," the man took a closer look at the iridescent liquid and continued with concern, "Vanir may find it impossible to sever ties with this person."
"Onas," the woman inquired with heightened concern, "what should we do?"
"It's inevitable; we must get Anavan back on his feet and in sound mind first, don't you think?" After a moment of contemplation, he reassured her, "If there's ever an issue with Vanir, sister-in-law, I'll do everything in my power to bring him out."
“If you say so, Onas,” she nodded, and they both approached Anavan, who was lying with bedsores. And turning to their benefactor, she added, "Thank you, Onas. We'll never be able to fully repay your kindness—"
"No need to mention it. Your husband once saved my life," Onas replied.
"That happened when you were both just kids."
“I’m just repaying his favour. I wish I could just ruin this forsaken territory and leave but I…”
"I can't blame you for feeling that way. We should have listened to you when you objected to Anavan joining the knightage in Zinwen," she said with regret. If not for Onas's intervention, her husband would have perished in prison. Not only did he rescue Anavan, but he also proved that it was all a scheme. Yet, a commoner prevailing over a noble through the law was unheard of, and the case was swiftly closed. She recalled how tirelessly Onas had worked to keep their fractured family afloat, clearing Vanir of his charges, and sending him to Concordia.
Casting a brief glance at his weathered face, which she could hardly recognize, she reminisced about the past arguments between him and her husband, which had resulted in his departure from Clandor. But when their family was in dire straits, he returned to rescue them, a true miracle in their eyes. So, she refrained from probing into his past years. Her gratitude was immeasurable, unaware that Onas Helieth was the twelfth commander of Eclipse and that their previous argument, which had separated him from Anavan, had been about joining Eclipse together.
***
AnnouncementThis was emotional when Vanir had to fight Onas, his benefactor because they were standing on opposite sides. I wrote and it is the best emotional scene I have written to date. You can get hyped. Cause Vanir is not just a character that is made to fill the spaces.
NEXT : BLEEDING WALLET
ACT V
THE GLORY WARS
proxybaba Rejoice !! The series will continue with a new schedule. One chapter a day till Chapter 170. The End of Glory Wars Act
After three days of venting his anger, he visited his grandma's quarters, concerned about discreetly sending the potion he needed. Upon entering, he found Rudolf working on a flask of sparkly yellow liquid.
"Is that It, gramps?" he inquired.
Rudolf looked up and replied, "It better be worth it, squeaky. I really don't like Sierra in that state."
Hans teased, "Can't a loving husband like you take care of her for three days? And people call you caring—"
"Thok...Ouch..." Hans exclaimed, "Violence from the start; no wonder I'm learning bad things."
Rudolf retorted, "Oh, shut up, Hans. I'm serious; that potion drains Sierra. So you better ensure the first year will repay its worth."
Hans declared, "I hate debt, whether it's mine or someone else owes me one; I'll collect it for sure."
Rudolf considered, "Yeah, yeah, talk big all you want, but how are you going to send it to Clandor?"
"That's what's puzzling me," Hans replied, mimicking Rudolf's thoughtful pose. Rudolf then answered his own question, "I knew it! You might not be aware since you don't have a family outside, but students send things back and forth to their homes. It can only happen once a month, and it's backed by Concordia so no one messes with it—"
"Hans's face lit up as he exclaimed, 'That solves it. Thanks, Gramps!' He secured the vial in a firm package and headed for the first-years’ lecture halls, muttering, "Better grab my minion first." It didn’t take him long to reach the Vanir’s class. "Darn my luck, it's Prof. Martha’s class," he cursed.
Hans hesitated at the door but was already the centre of attention, including Prof. Martha's stern gaze. "What troubles are you making in my class, Mr. Hans?" she asked, her brows furrowing.
Hans pointed at Vanir, sitting in the middle of the class. "I just need that guy, just for a little bit—"
Martha sighed, growing impatient. "You want to take my student in the middle of a class?" Hans replied, spreading a long smile on his face, “Even if I say pretty please.” Seeing his shamelessness, Martha relented, “Whatever, just don’t disturb my class.” With this, she signalled Vanir to take his troublesome senior away from her and after they crossed some distance, Vanir asked, “What brings you here?” but his half-spoken words came to a halt when Hans showed him the potion, “The thing you were waiting for.”
“Th..thank you, I’ll never forget this senior —”
“Let's send it and write a letter too,” Hans said, nodding. Vanir, tears of happiness in his eyes, readily agreed. He had blamed himself for his father’s condition and his family’s downfall, but in his hand was the means to rectify some of his past mistakes. “Yes, senior, let's send it,” he affirmed, wiping his eyes. After completing the necessary formalities, they dispatched the package to Vanir’s home."
“Just become the warlock, if you feel that grateful,” Hans remarked, observing Vanir's grateful expression.
“Yes, I’ll do it at any cost,” Vanir replied. While he felt thankful to Hans, a sense of responsibility now weighed on him. What if he failed? The question began to gnaw at his conscience. However, before the doubt could take a stronger hold, Hans interjected, “Of course, you’ll become one, I’ll make you because I said so.”
Later, the two of them began accumulating credits, and another week slipped by. Hans now had 1950 credits to his name, earned through hunting, gathering, and a whirlwind of various tasks during the past week.
"I need a big one, at least 1500 credits. Where is it? Where?" He was on the lookout for a high-yield task, having been dissuaded from taking on a perilous assignment by the hall master due to his limited resources. However, his eyes suddenly landed on a familiar listing. "Agrilands needs a research apprentice - credits depend on the candidate’s capability," he read aloud. "Wait, I'm more than capable, and who better than me for this?" A wide grin once again spread across his face as he set off for Agrilands.
CLANDOR’S SUBURBS ZINWEN TERRITORY
"What kind of student lives in a place like this?" muttered the delivery man as he touched down in the Zinwen slums. Surveying the surroundings once more, he added, "And Elves claim we're uncivilized. They should take a good look in the mirror first. Well, who cares? Dorfeil, Dorfeil. Where's that parcel? Ah, found it."
The man spotted a child poking at the ground with a stick, the youngster's clothing thoroughly dirtied from head to toe. "No matter what, parents should at least watch over their children. Don't meddle; you're just a delivery guy, a DELIVERY GUY," he reminded himself sternly, then addressed the child. "Is this Dorfeil—"
Before he could finish, the child bolted indoors as if he'd seen a ghost, slamming the door shut. He peeked out and in a childlike voice asked, “What to you want mishter?”
The delivery person tried to reassure the boy, saying, "I'm not a bad person—"
“Every bat pershon says tat,” the child retorted.
Not making any progress, the delivery personnel retrieved the letter and said, "Someone named Vanir sent a gift for you." Instantly, the boy flung open the door in excitement, asking, " “Did my brother really shend it?”
"Yes, now, where are your parents? I need to give it to them."
The child ushered the man inside and gestured for him to follow. The mention of his brother's name by the stranger was enough to dispel any unease the child had been feeling earlier. He was now moving forward with hope. However, just as they had behaved previously, the adults in the house reacted the same way. They grabbed the child and positioned themselves protectively in front of him. A weary-looking woman spoke, "We don't have anything, please leave."
“What is wrong with these people? Can't they see my uniform? Nobody willingly ventures into the slums, and here I am, a volunteer. Now I get it, their hospitality is no laughing matter." Clearing his throat, he continued, "I have a package for Anavan Dorfeil—"
“He is my husband.”
“Yes, not my concern, just confirm your identity and I’ll be on my way.” the delivery man said and resolved, “I’m never volunteering for anything, they fooled me since I was new.”
After completing the necessary formalities, he hastily left the area, as if there were no tomorrow.
The woman examined the contents of the parcel. She possessed the ability to read and write, as they had once been a knightly family. If not for the oppression imposed by the territory lord, she could have found employment. She then proceeded to open the attached letter
“Dear Mom and Dad,
I hope you're doing well. A lot has happened since I came here. I met an amazing person who helped me a lot. At first, some people treated me badly because of our family, but this person protected me. I've decided to learn from this senior. I hope you can meet him someday. He heard about Dad's illness and sent me this box, saying it can help him get better."
The woman whispered, tears welling up in her eyes, "My dear son, all I ever wanted was for you to leave us behind, soar high, and be free. But we are still shackling you. There is nothing free in this world. When will you realize that? Even after all you've been through, do you still place your trust in those who hold power? To them, you are just an effective tool to be used.” She was filled with worry, but as she picked up another piece of paper beside the letter, she discovered words that didn't belong to her son written on it.
"Greetings,
I am Hans, a second-year student currently in a mentor-mentee association with your son. I am compelled to write to you regarding a matter of great concern.
I have observed your son overwhelmed by feelings of hatred and an intense desire for vengeance. In light of this, I have taken the initiative to send a potion that may provide relief from his suffering. My affection for your son is profound, and my only aim is to alleviate his pain. However, I wish to stress that this potion has the capacity for immediate healing. Therefore, I strongly recommend its gradual administration in small doses. A swift and complete recovery may inadvertently draw unwarranted attention and complications.
I firmly believe that only a father's guidance can provide the comfort and support necessary for your son to transcend this painful period. I implore you to consider this matter thoughtfully and exercise discretion in the use of the potion.
Please rest assured, Your son is in good hands."
“He must be a well-taught noble," Vanir's mother commented, unaware that Hans had plagiarised most of the content. Skimming the content again, her concern deepened. She muttered, "Vanir has sunken in something that he can't get out.". She contemplated opening the package but was interrupted by another man, to whom the entire family owed a great debt, entering the room. "What do we have here, sister-in-law?" he inquired, playfully tousling the little kid's hair. She displayed both letters to him, prompting him to reflect.
"If this indeed works," the man remarked, "then we may find ourselves facing far more formidable times, sister-in-law."
"Yes, it would mean that Vanir would be entirely at that person's mercy—"
"That might have been the deal, no noble does things like these without expecting anything," The man remarked again, a bit of confusion in his tone, "Getting something that could heal Anavan, is simply not possible even for high-ranked nobilities, and even royals have to open their secret stash. But if that thing works," the man took a closer look at the iridescent liquid and continued with concern, "Vanir may find it impossible to sever ties with this person."
"Onas," the woman inquired with heightened concern, "what should we do?"
"It's inevitable; we must get Anavan back on his feet and in sound mind first, don't you think?" After a moment of contemplation, he reassured her, "If there's ever an issue with Vanir, sister-in-law, I'll do everything in my power to bring him out."
“If you say so, Onas,” she nodded, and they both approached Anavan, who was lying with bedsores. And turning to their benefactor, she added, "Thank you, Onas. We'll never be able to fully repay your kindness—"
"No need to mention it. Your husband once saved my life," Onas replied.
"That happened when you were both just kids."
“I’m just repaying his favour. I wish I could just ruin this forsaken territory and leave but I…”
"I can't blame you for feeling that way. We should have listened to you when you objected to Anavan joining the knightage in Zinwen," she said with regret. If not for Onas's intervention, her husband would have perished in prison. Not only did he rescue Anavan, but he also proved that it was all a scheme. Yet, a commoner prevailing over a noble through the law was unheard of, and the case was swiftly closed. She recalled how tirelessly Onas had worked to keep their fractured family afloat, clearing Vanir of his charges, and sending him to Concordia.
Casting a brief glance at his weathered face, which she could hardly recognize, she reminisced about the past arguments between him and her husband, which had resulted in his departure from Clandor. But when their family was in dire straits, he returned to rescue them, a true miracle in their eyes. So, she refrained from probing into his past years. Her gratitude was immeasurable, unaware that Onas Helieth was the twelfth commander of Eclipse and that their previous argument, which had separated him from Anavan, had been about joining Eclipse together.
***
AnnouncementThis was emotional when Vanir had to fight Onas, his benefactor because they were standing on opposite sides. I wrote and it is the best emotional scene I have written to date. You can get hyped. Cause Vanir is not just a character that is made to fill the spaces.
NEXT : BLEEDING WALLET
