Inheritance

Chapter 4: Tutorial

Ian layed down on his bed, and closed thing his eyes. He opened his eyes and saw that his room was crumbling around him. He tried to panic, but couldn't. He couldn't do anything. Honestly, he wished that life would just tell him what it wanted to do with him, instead of just twisting his arm and taking him wherever it deemed fit. Life was being such an ass.

"Listen White boy, you know nothing of suffering. Don't talk about life. You're room will be fine, I'm about to explain everything."

Ian didn't say anything as the world started to materialize around the both of them. The old man seemed to have a kind of power glowing from his eyes that said, "Shut the hell up". So shut up he did. Ian knew some people who would call him out for "wussing out", but he considered it smart. Any Idiot can be brave.

The world around him once again materialized around them, snow falling slowly to the ground and covering the various weapons that were scattered across the field. It would've been very peaceful, except that Ian wasn't that convinced that it was real.

"Of course it's real," the old man said. "Don't be stupid."

"But..."

"Just because it's all inside your head, doesn't mean that it isn't real, now let's walk."

Ian sighed and started down the path with the man.

He had changed from his bum clothes to winter outfit, a long, grey, trench coat and black leather gloves. On his head he had a black ski hat. He would have looked cool, if he didn't have a pair of bright pink earmuffs that were covering his ears. Ian wanted to ask about those, but decided that it wasn't the best time at the moment.

"Ok, now you need to explain. What is happening?"

The old man looked at Ian, and then looked at the sky, watching the snow fall gently to the ground. Then he looked at Ian again, who was waiting expectantly for an answer, finally, he spoke.

"What would happen if you hammered a nail with screwdriver?"

"What?"

"If you tried to use a hammer as a screwdriver, would it work?" The old man asked, still looking at the sky.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just answer the question," the old man said.

He was still looking at the sky when he said this.

"Well, yes, I guess that you can, if you tried hard enough..."

The old man stopped looking at the sky and looked at Ian. He had a smile on his face, the kind of smile that gets most people's shoelaces taken away, and thrown into a room with soft walls.

"That's exactly right. Bladeworks is like a screwdriver, that can be used as a hammer if needed."

This wasn't fair for Ian. He had been attacked, and almost died, blacked out while being attacked, killed three people, barely escape from the police, all so that an insane old man formed by his own insane mind, could screw around with his head. If anyone deserved a straight answer in the world at that moment, it was him. Did he get one? No. He was pretty frustrated. It must have shown on his face, because the old man, looked at him and sighed."

"Oh, let me guess, you want me to be, 'less vague', don't you. Goodness, kids these days are so ungrateful."

Ian said nothing, hoping that the old man would continue.

"Alright, this is how it is. Your ability, which I like to call Bladeworks, is a neat little thing. Basically its raw energy and you can do anything you want with it. Literally anything.

More silence

"But when you use that energy do other stupid things, like an idiot, you use it up, at least for a while. Kind of like a cool down, in those video games that kids play these days.

The snow fell to the ground slowly, much like this information into Ian's brain. When it finally clicked, Ian spoke:

"Does that include time manipulation"

"Yes"

"And shape shifting?"

"Everything you can think of, but-"

"And super strength?"

"Yes, but there's a catch. Doing all this drains all of that Bladeworks energy that you have, and you'll have to wait a while before you can use it again, except for one thing."

The old man stopped talking and looked up at the sky again. He stopped walking, and just stood there, amidst a field of various swords with a gentle snowfall. Ian just stood there for a moment, not sure what to do. Finally he asked, "What is that?"

The old man looked at him and then pointed to the various swords that were buried in the ground.

"Summoning those. They are the spirits of heroes and villains who have wielded a sword in battle. There will is now bound to yours, as well as their abilities."

Ian looked upon the weapons, this time viewing them in a different light. Every single blade telling a different story. It seemed amazing.

"Anyway, it's your bedtime, Goodbye."

And Ian found himself on his bed, unable to do anything but sleep.