Chapter 88: - One for the Other
The cries of a child is something all parents must endure. Whether it be from that first waking moment in the night, when your child is screaming bloody murder to the skies, you - the parent - must get up from your bed, from your peaceful dreams and blissful thoughts, to calm that rage of a walking new born child.
You promise to be there for them forever, and until you die, that promise will never be broken. You'll hold them in the night, day, rain or shine, you will be there for them.
When they grow, that promise doesn't leave you. You must now deal with the curiosity of a toddler, someone whose own mind is fresh and new, given their own newfound self awareness. Their curiosity is cute for a while, as they begin to realize, "Oh, I have two feet," or "Huh, I wonder?" These are the thoughts your child will be filled with, and whether it be through sheer stupidity, or their senselessness, you must be there to guide them.
Sure their curiosity might get the better of them, and soon they've broken into the neighbor's chicken coop and smashed all the eggs because they liked how they broke apart. You must scold them, but you must also be careful - careful as to not set a bad image of yourself, lest the child decides he likes mother more than you.
As a father your job is to teach, lecture, build, and grow your son from the sprout that he is, to the tree he will become. Strong, sturdy, and well built in the ways of a life.
Though he won't be ready for everything that life might throw at him, the tree will stand strong and never forget their roots.
This is what being a parent means, this is what being a father means. You must strengthen their roots otherwise, without strong roots to keep them in a firm place, the tree will fall over with only a small gust of wind. You will fail, and everything you have built will fall over.
But what happens when that time comes?
Do you decide it's all for not, and move on with your life, letting your child pick themselves up, earn a few things, but forget their roots.
Or do you decide to help them, they learn nothing, and soon they decide to remake these roots with a firm belief.
The truth is both of these are wrong.
If you choose the first, you lose the chance of your child ever remembering the good times with you, they resent you, they forget you, and then they lose themselves. They never stand back up, because the moment they needed you the most, you weren't there. The shock of that is somewhat sad.
Too sad to stand up.
However, if you pick the latter, well, life may not be so kind to you. Finally the child realizes how much life can go south for them, how much life can change - how much it can hurt. They learn nothing, and from that nothing, they become reliant on you.
They're too attached to you to stand.
So what is the best outcome? The best choice?
No one knows.
Only the roots will tell, when they dig back into the ground, grab onto the rocks and the dirt, keeping themselves firm against the wind and Rian, the weather of life.
But what happens when they no longer have those roots? What happens when they're cut away, too hurt and too stricken with grief to do anything at all?
The worst excuse is an excuse not worth giving.
Lukali was the most perfect view of all of this. These very life lessons were once taught to him, yet his teacher did not abide by them.
When his mother was killed, he laid on the hard cold ground of the dirt road, listening to his mother scream and cry for help. He, at the time, did not know if she was calling to him, or calling to someone else.
He never learned the answer to that question, as he blamed himself from then on for being the weak child he was. All the things Ren said to him, all the things he mocked him with, they were true. He had laid there listening to his mother die before his very eyes, the very same eyes that watched these mine do horrid things to her, while his mind refused to keep out the screams.
When he finally did crawl out from underneath the carriage, he felt hollow inside, his mind dull, and it took minutes for him to even recognize that the bloodied and sprawled body of the woman before him was his mother. Even then he didn't cry.
He felt empty.
Lukali couldn't tell them, but Ken - white eyes - who had been tasked with following them for days, who had been behind them only for a day - was watching him with silent eyes.
Ken, at the time, knew that Lukali was not in the right state of mind, and that the body needed to let his sorrow flow, before his all-bearing father tried to tell him to suck it up.
The thieves who robbed the boy of his mother, had been cleanly, and - less to say - inhumanly dealt with by Ren and his brothers. Their cruelty did have some measure of usefulness.
But, no matter how long Ken waited, the boy refused to cry. His eyes were trained on the body of his mother, still in shock and paralyzed with fear.
Ken took him away quickly after that, pulling his eyes away from the woman's body. He would leave it for his brothers to deal with. He had other work to do.
What is a father to a son?
A man who scolds him, or a man who loves him? A father can not or will not live both these roles. He could only live one.
But there is a second role that people mistake for the first.
Abandonment.
That is what Lukali was left with. His father didn't even bat an eye to the mention of his wife's death, nor to the tale of how his son dealt with it.
He just silently stared at the boy, and walked off. From then on he was scolded more often than he could count. His father called him weak, told him to suck up the pain and move on. He would put him through rigorous training and pain filled teachings that would leave him with broken bones.
Perhaps this was why Lukali was already good enough to use a bow, but not good enough to be an expert in it.
After all, he was near an expert in anything according to his father. He was a weakness that needed to be crushed, rebuilt, and hardened until he was as tough as stone and steel.
His fathers guild mates turned their backs to him, to his pleas of mercy, to his pain-filled cries in the night, or to give him just an ear to spill his heart of all the pain he had endured. None of them batted an eye. Why?
Because they believed in his father so deeply, they couldn't possibly think he was wrong.
Where did this leave Ken? The one who saved the little boy, the one who watched as he was beaten in training against opponents twice his size, all so his father could call him a man?
Where was Ken?
Watching. Listening. Waiting.
Finally, as Ren's head - his brother's head - the man he loved since birth, one of three he cherished more than life itself, flew through the air by his own hand, did Ken snap.
He was tired of watching this boy be beaten down to dust, and then mocked when he was treated as nothing more than dirt.
Fathers are meant to build the tree, raise the tree high, grow it as one of its own. Not slowly chop and chop and chop down small bits and pieces of the tree until it's no more than the size of a small boulder.
Then they mock the tree for being so small?
No! If anything, the father should be proud of the tree that still has the strength to stand.
Ken hated it all.
Now, his anger finally snapped back.
***
Lia's eyes couldn't leave the scene before her, even as she felt the pain in her back disappear, Cain's healing having done its work well. The image of this man, his white eyes glowing in the night darkened skies, was a picture that Lia couldn't forget, much less turn her eyes from.
Rian too was under a similar trance, his eyes wide with shock as he looked on at the pool of blood forming around Ken's feet. The blood of his brother.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, Ken moved, his head turning to the darkness where Ben sat on the ground, too shocked to say anything.
"K-Ken…what are you -"
He didn't have the chance to finish that sentence, as a second dagger tore through his chest, a long and dark arm protruding from the other side of the body.
"Kal."
Lia finally found the words to speak, as well as the strength to stand.
A faint glow attracted her eyes back to her side, where the man in robes - the second summons - crouched down with his hand to Rian's side. His hands glowed, and with it, the deep gashing wound on Rain's side, began to fade.
'Healing…'
Lia looked between Kal and her second summons, then back at Ken.
'Was…was all this pla-'
'Lia.'
Interrupting her thoughts, Cain's stern voice, unmistakable in her ear, spoke.
'We can discuss this later. Right now you need to focus.'
'R-Right.'
She turned back to Ken, her eyes lingering on his silent body which stood like a statue, unmoving, silent, and steady. He did not seem in the right of mind at this moment, and his next actions proved that.
Slowly, the man she had just witnessed killing his own brother, peered down at his hands which were shaking uncontrollably.
-Clang!
The steel dagger, having been tightly gripped in his hands, fell to the ground, rattling around on the stone street. Ken looked as if he wanted to speak, as if he wanted to say something that Lia could not tell, but he never spoke. Instead, he fell to his knees, his voice cracking with every word he spoke.
"What…wh-what have I…done…"
He clearly seemed shaken up over the moment, a split second decision of rage that had caused him to do something he never would have done.
Truth be told, Ren and his brothers were not the greatest of people. They had killed many innocent people in the past, and had done evil things. What had been going on in the city just hours before was proof of that.
But still…
…they were brothers.
Lia tore her eyes from Ken, her mind currently focused on something else more pressing. While she did feel for Ken, and he had saved Lukali's life, she knew this was far from the end.
And she was right.
A stomp on the ground and the rustling in the wind, Lia was instantly able to tell that someone was still watching them.
She turned to face the intruder, an intruder she already knew well enough, and faced with pure anger and rage.
Kara.
"You…"
Her hair was uneven and ruffled, her face and makeup were torn and smudged. She didn't look to be in the best of moods, nor did she look to be the greatest of enemies.
But Lia knew that you could never judge a book by its cover, and she remembered clearly what Randolph had told her.
'Kara's a summoner. Has been for some time ever since she was a child. That Assassin can prove to be a pretty significant pillar for her power in his city.'
"...you. Ruined. Everything!"
Her voice was filled with anger, rage, and the most horrid of all voices Lia had ever heard. Clearly this woman did not get this angry often, otherwise more people would have heard about her cackling old woman voice.
"It's over Kara. This is the end for you."
She decided to give Kara the chance to surrender now and give herself up, though Lia doubted such a thing would ever come true.
"Give yourself up while I'm asking nicely."
Beside her she could hear Rian stand, his iron gauntlets rubbing against one another, creaking and groaning.
He was ready for a fight.
Subliminally, She could see Lukali and Kal ready themselves out of the corner of her eye, keeping their own trained on Kara.
They outnumbered her five to one. Clearly she would realize that it would all be pointless to continue fighting now, and she would give herself up, right?
Wrong.
Instead of backing down like a sane person would seeing the odds against them, Kara only seemed to be further enraged at the sight of these odds, as she laughed maniacally, clutching her stomach like this was the greatest joke of all time.
"You-You think that this is over?! Hahaha…N-Never!"
Her eyes were wide with insanity, anger having pushed her over the edge already.
Cain, seeing this through Lia's eyes, blankly stared on.
'To have the power you lusted after so unconsciously ripped from your grasp, not even an ounce of effort given to the task, it is no wonder you have gone insane. Those who rely too heavily on the crutch, will eventually fall when the crutch is taken from them.'
Lia slowly picked up her sword from the ground where it had fallen, raised it till the point was just high enough to meet Kara dead on should she attack, and waited for the moment of the end to come.
'You know this will be the last battle you face here, right?'
Cain's voice was like a drum beating in the background, signifying the importance of this battle to end this nightmare of a night.
'Whether that be in your favor or not?'
'I know.'
She said without hesitation, her eyes trained on the image of Kara in the distance.
Lia didn't need any light to see Kara's body, nor did she fall victim to the darkness and its blindness.
She didn't need any help at all.
She was ready.
She was strong willed.
She was Endless.
"Let's make it a battle she won't forget, even in death."
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone