PANDORA. Hope Dies Last: ToG

The Journey Begins

At his words, I could do nothing other than say "Yes father" Even now, standing in the presences of someone as powerful as he...was not easy. It was not simply his power but rather the memories it brought with it.

"As is tradition, the family gifts the child a sword before they enter to climb the tower."

Yes, but the sword is mostly ceremonial and only sometimes used as the 2nd blade. Unless the sword was truly amazing, it was not a good idea to throw away the blade you have trained with for so long.

"Usually it would be the elders of the family or your mother who presents this...but I wanted to give you one of mine; Arms Inventory" A floating white rack filled with all sorts of blades appeared next to him as he picked one out...one that was too small for him to use.

"Nearly a hundred thousand years ago, I found this blade. Even as the best swordsman in the tower, I could not figure out what exactly it is...I could tell that it is a truly powerful Ignition Weapon but it never responded to my call."

It was a thin blade, so thin one might mistake it for a needle if they did not see the edge carefully.

(A.N: Needles are one of the most common weapon type in the tower. A thin spiked weapon used to pierce and stab. Like a Sabre)

It seemed to be a one-handed blade, which I could use perfectly fine, but the design was elegantly a two handed one, fitting the Arie family theme. The blade itself was colorless as if crafted straight from glass, only visible due to the light reflecting off of it in an odd angle.

Inspecting carefully, on the blade was engraved some runes I could not read.

"An old language that I had to ask Gustang to translate for me. This language is completely different from Macsethian, the tower's standard...but apparently this translates to Tell-Tale"

"Tell-Tale..."

I gripped the elegant silver and red handle as I twirled it around a couple of times. Performing a couple of basic stances and moves...right in front of my father. Surprisingly, the blade seemed to accept me. A feeling of somehow it was crafted just for me somehow, all those years ago. That it wasn't just an excellent blade, it was for me.

As I moved more and more, my strength returned...and further still as I felt how monstrous I had become just by taking in the King's blood. Anything I had thought of as strong...I was way past that now.

With my bare hands alone, I instinctively knew I could rip apart stone and steel without any shinsu. I felt like I could outrun the Divine Fishes that lived on our floor. My senses sharpened that I could feel my father watching me carefully without my eyes or eyes...I simply knew, I felt.

"Daughter, if you would allow me" Father stood up as he picked his own blade (not White Oar) from his inventory as he walked over to me. "Allow me to be your father this once. Let me teach you my style of Swordsmanship"

Swordsmanship in the Arie family was sacred. While the main family learned of the true Arie Swordsmanship, in reality everyone went their own way with the blade. Some developed a style more offensive, defensive, or adapted it to fit their own fighting style altogether.

A family member teaching someone their own style meant more than just a teacher-student relationship...it was trust, oftentimes love. Mothers taught their children, fathers taught their most prized disciples.

I still feared him, I didn't quite trust him yet...but seeing how both of us were socially awkward, it would never start if even one of us pushed each other away. I understand he couldn't be available to be a father and honestly I didn't care...but this chance was simply too good to let go.