Akira's POV
I had thought after all these years of seeing literally everyone around me emitting blessings, I would be better at this. But after my third failed attempt at focusing, I knew that to be utterly wrong.
My frustration increased ten folds with each attempt.
Damn it, this isn't supposed to be happening.
After all those times observing father unleash his fiery gift, I should be more than better at this.
I am a Ryuuzaki. We are supposed to be best of the best.
This is humiliating!
Another expectation I couldn't live up to.
Because who doesn't know that the limiting pillars were put in place because of my father's outburst on his first try?
To add insult to the injury, shy and quiet Cephas was able to do it before me. Albeit, he lost control and almost caused a mass jumping session, but something is better than nothing.
I started to panic when one by one all my friends got the hang of their emissions. Gunhild with her ice, Eboni with her illusions, Kishar with her hypnotism; all started to run past me in this race.
Great, now all I needed was Naeem to do it before me and I will officially never use magic anymore in my life. There was a limit to how much humiliation someone can handle.
So, I glared hard at the hilt of the sword in my hands.
Why can't I emit my blessing? What if I can't ever?
"The noble Ryuuzakis have produced Grandmasters for generations and the new heir can't even emit blessing?" said the shadowy voice in my mind, always ready to suffocate me with taunting words.
"Oh, how the mighty have fallen." Another jab.
"You're nothing like your father, you would never be." The voice dripped with mocking pity.
"A warrior? There is no need to for little boys to play soldiers. The sword isn't a paint brush." It let out a slickening laugh.
The jeers, insults, and barbs cut through my mind like they always do. The sneering Lernaean hydra inside me raised its heads of insecurity again. Unlike brave Hercules, instead of cutting them off, I brought forth a new head with each failed try.
But before it grew the hundredth head of rage and took control over me, my panicked eyes fell on another pair of eyes mirroring my emotions.
Isolde, the little spitfire whom I was avoiding like I do with Eboni during her moon fever.
I wasn't doing it to hurt her. I just felt really conflicted on how to approach her. There was a chance she wouldn't want to talk to me after we had accused her.
Additionally, I wasn't so conceited as to think my absence will actually bother her. Well, not more than my presence at least.
Of course, I could've apologized but the thing is, I've never sincerely apologized to anyone before. I never had to.
And even if I do, there was always a chance of her not accepting it.
I don't want her to accept it only because I was a noble.
So I did what I always do when I come face to face with the slightest chance of failure. I avoided it.
So what will I do after I can't avoid it any more? I don't know, I don't think that far. That's far over my maturity level.
And there it was again. The sickening smell, the coarse smell of decay that made my nose burn.
Was it Inayat's decay I was smelling?
Why did it get so strong all of a sudden?
Am I confusing two smells?
I looked at the sky to the sun shining brightly as ever.
Odd, I shouldn't be making a mistake during Sol's hours.
I looked around to look for the source and instead what caught my eyes was Isolde.
Her panicked eyes that locked to mine were full of unshed tears.
Is she crying? Why?
Because of me?
Of course not, fool, don't be so vain.
She tried to move her eyes downwards but her head remained in the same position. Maybe she was trying to signal downwards...
Wait, but why was she so unnaturally still? Did she hurt her legs on Cephas's vines ?
To check, I looked at her feet and my blood turned cold. To my shock, her legs were almost halfway wrapped by the vines.
How are they still alive? Did they resist Inayat's decaying?
The vines were a sickly green color with decay still on them. They looked like Zombies.
Zombies?
Necromancy!
At that moment, I don't know what it was that finally helped to call out the piece of the divine in me. It was probably the midgets pleading eyes or the thought of forbidden magic entering Azura's holy territories that finally snapped my full concentration in place.
My palm burnt like that day when Sol's fire had touched me for a moment; when his rays blinded my mortal vision and the magic flew through my veins.
Towards the hilt with no sword held in my hands. It came alive in a fiery form. The fire weapon roared to life and took the form of a thin sword, its red flames like dawn sky.
I did it! Now, I wasn't a sun-forged in name only, I was the real deal.
And with a renewed confidence I lifted my sword to the side and swung it towards Isolde's feet with the precision I learned from my God father.
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GKOSSARY
*Necromancy: The practice of magic involving communication with the dead – either by summoning their spirits as apparitions , or raising them bodily.
*Lernaean Hydra: Often known simply as the Hydra, is a serpentine water monster in Greek and Roman Mythology. The mythical hero Heracles or Hercules fought this monster during his quest to fulfill 12 labors. Said monster possesses many head, exact number unknown but is said to regrow two heads for each head cut off.
It was defeated by Hercules using a fire sword.
Do you guys see the connection? haha.
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