Bab 5: 1.X Interlude: Maira

"He's not a normal child."

"I know that, Maira, but he's still our son."

Maira sighed for the umpteenth time as she had another one of those worrying conversations with her husband. She knew that Rouge was their son. Hell, she carried him to term and birthed him into this world herself! But there were still times that she could hardly believe she was even a mother.

Currently, little Rouge was out tending to the garden outside; her son taking care of the vegetables that he himself had planted ever since he convinced them he could handle it. It was far from what she expected from a child. What was supposed to be an unruly, yet devastatingly cute little son was instead an obedient, curious, and frighteningly intelligent student.

"I know, and I still love him with all my heart," the young mother stated as she stared out towards the garden, watching her dutiful son go about his daily chores with frightening efficiency. "But he's scaring me, Pascual. Even now, Rouge's asking more questions that I don't want to tell him the answer to."

Even after fifteen years of raising him, Maira still felt the impact of the horrifying realization that her child was smarter than her. It was enough to make any mother fear for their children, especially since they were still hiding from what was assuredly a hit squad from the Imperial Aufteilung Class.

"He's still a child, Maira," Pascual comforted his wife, a sturdy hand reaching for her shoulder to offer support. "Children are naturally curious. It just so happened that ours are a bit curiouser than most."

"Little Rouge..." the worrying mother whispered, a hand on top of her chest as her anxieties and fears for what she treasured the most swirled dangerously inside her.

He was still just a child even though he was already blossoming into a handsome young man. It was like it was only yesterday that she taught him how to read and write the Common, and there he was now, his ruffled locks glistening as the sun shone at him out in the open field. She had already taught her son all she knew about Wesen. It didn't stop him from learning more, of course, but she at least hoped that her little Rouge knew what he was doing in regards to learning about their abilities.

"He's a gifted blacksmith, y'know?" Beside her, her husband regaled, his pride showing as he recounted their son's skills. "Took to Seigelwork like a fish to water. I even think he's starting to make other forms of weaponry that I've never even seen before."

The proud father chuckled as Maira watched her son intently, remembering the days of when her ten-year-old child asked her to teach him how to fight. It was an... experience to say the least.

"Reminds of the time he asked me how to wield a sword despite already knowing he's a Nenner," she recalled. It was common knowledge that if one was a Zahler, they could never be a Nenner and vice-versa. But in spite of that... "He was surprisingly adamant even after knowing that he can never be as strong as a Zahler."

Zahlers were glorified soldiers; their bodies naturally attuned for fighting. Combined with their control of Elementar Wesen, Zahlers were prized throughout the Empire; the glory of having the title enough to catapult one into a life of luxury. Maira herself once donned the title; fighting for the crown and cutting down all that opposed the Matheman Empire.

"Heh," Pascual chuckled before turning his gaze towards a strangely shaped sword resting above the fireplace. "Too bad my blood was a little stronger than yours, Dear."

"He's still my little Rouge, Dear," Maira shook her head at the light jab. "I'm glad he never took after your rugged mug~"

"He's still a Nenner," her husband countered, albeit with a sense of resignation to his voice. "I just hope they don't get to us."

Nenners were doomed to be worthless supports for Zahlers; only good for making the tools necessary for their Zahlers to properly channel their power into the world. The young mother could only watch back then as most of her fellows abused and ridiculed their supposed partners; some using their Nenners as living target practice, others beating them down if their equipment broke. There were also some instances where she heard pained yells coming from some of the shared rooms, a few of them being those of female Nenners being assuredly taken advantage of by their Zahler partners.

It was a big reason why she fled the military alongside Pascual. One incident too many at the barracks just... It just broke her will to stay despite knowing that she'd be charged with treason against the crown.

"I know that look, Maira." Her husband's calming voice took her attention away from her thoughts. "It's not your fault."

"And you know very well that it most certainly is," she rebuffed, a hand on her head as she struggled through the memory. "I almost killed you, Pascual. I don't know what I would've done if it actually happened."

It was a normal luncheon back then. Or as normal as a luncheon for a Zahler of her rank, at least. A rival had let slip that she was being 'too soft' on her Nenner, that she wasn't befitting of her hard-earned rank through sheer skill and hard work alone. Like the unruly youth she once was, she let her pride do the talking for her, resulting in her making a promise that she couldn't take back. She couldn't back down, not if she wanted her reputation to remain intact.

Maira didn't sleep for three days after she did what she had to do.

"Don't think about it," Pascual soothed, embracing the distraught woman in a hug. "We're here now. With a son to care for. I'm sure whoever they send won't be able to find us."

"I hope so," she sighed as she leaned into her husband. "I don't want our little Rouge to suffer out there in the capital."

It was the law after all. Anyone with the potential to become a Zahler or a Nenner must be conscripted into the army. It didn't matter if they were poor, rich, noble-born, or lowborn...

If Emperor Freud willed it, then the Army will no doubt make it happen.

It was already short of a miracle that their quaint little family hasn't been found by Freud's pet soldiers yet, but the protective mother knew it was only a matter of time before they do so. She knew how their minds worked, and Zahlers were nothing if not willful. They'll be there eventually, that much she knew.

"He won't, Maira," her husband reassured, taking the strange-looking sword above the fireplace into his hands. "If anything, I'm sure you're more than able to defeat them."

"Guess I better start practicing then," she chuckled as she grabbed the thin sword from her husband's hands.

The Zahler made a few practice swings with the strange weapon, getting a feel for the sword's unusual form. The blade glowed a dull blue in its peculiar patterns; its energy familiar, yet also different.

"Who made this?"

"It's our son's first creation without my guidance," Pascal explained, also marveling at the blade's unusual shape and make. "When I asked him why it's so thin and-"

"Elegant?" It was nothing she'd ever seen before.

"Yes, elegant," the Nenner finished his prior thought. "He said that it was a 'kah-tah-nah'."

"Kah-tah-nah?" The name never rang any bells, and she knew every kind weapon like the back of her hand.

"Rouge explained that the excess metal on the floor of my shop was a waste and that there should be something he can use it for," her husband continued. "Never in my life did I think a sword like that was even possible."

She returned her gaze to her son's creation. It was nothing like she had ever seen before; a leather-bound pommel with the whole thing curved slightly at an angle like a half-bow. On the blade was a wave-like pattern that shone with Seigel Energy, something that she never thought was even possible due to the Seigels' nature to etch itself into sharp angles and corners.

The Zahler channeled some of her element into the sword, watching as the dull blue turned into her distinctly fiery red color. Her eyes widened at a certain realization:

"Pa-Pascual," Maira stuttered as she felt the faintest of what was usually a moderate drain on her reserves. "Th-the sword. I can barely feel my reserves going down."

"What?"

"It's frighteningly Wesen-efficient..."

Her eyes widened at the implication of such a weapon. While Zahlers were used to prolonged bouts of fighting, there was still a limit to how far one could push oneself to fight. If her assessment of the blade was correct...

"I think I can fight at least fifty times longer with this than with any of your other weapons," she weakly stated.

Pascual nervously chuckled. "Thanks for the compliment, Dear."

"This isn't time for sarcasm, Pascual," she stressed, a hint of panic tinting her tone. "We have to make sure nobody finds out. If they find him-"

"Maira!" She felt the firm grip of her husband's hands around her arms. "Calm down. We'll get through this."

The worried mother stopped herself from sobbing in fear. Yes... They won't find them out here on the outskirts of the Empire. They just had to lay low. They already mapped out all the possible escape routes should an Aufteilung squad come for them. If all else, she could still fight for the three of them. If worst comes to wo-

"I've got the tomatoes!"

The husband and wife turned towards the open door, smiling in relief as their little Rouge calmly walked back into their humble abode with freshly-picked vegetables from the garden. Maira watched as her son's handsome face scrunched up at the sight of them, clearly sensing the light distress coming off of the pair.

"Is something wrong?" Rouge asked.

"No! It's nothing, Dear," she quickly lied to the best of her abilities. She then gave the sword back to her husband in favor of helping her son with their food. "Let's get those vegetables cleaned, shall we?"

It was expected of her. She had to put up a strong front, both as the mother and would-be defender of her household.

"Okay," her little Rouge addressed with the same reverent tone he'd used since he was a little boy. "I'll start with the potatoes."

She smiled as they both went into the kitchen, their hands busy with the day's next meal. It was these moments that the Zahler wanted to preserve; the innocent lifestyle of a humble citizen. But alas, both she and her husband cursed their son with their abilities.

Doomed to become a slave for the Empire should he show his potential.

A grim determination washed over the mother as her hands mechanically went about its duties in the kitchen; a blazing hot flame lighting up her soul. A fire she hadn't felt after years of being a mother. If- no... When they did come... once the tendrils of Freud's rule came knocking at their door...

She'll just have to remind them just why she was once a member of the Primzahl Dreizehn.

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