With a giant roar, the wolf launched forward, claws and fangs as it attacked with the intent to kill. My body moved before my brain could think, throwing itself out of the way in time to survive. I was lucky. No child would've survived such an attack. It was thanks to my years of training as a soldier that allowed me to dodge.

I gathered myself as it turned around, seemingly surprised that it had failed to accomplish its goal. It began to pace again, snarling, eyeing me suspiciously. I pulled out my sword, but what would that do? I would die before I could swing even a single time.

Was this it? Was I destined to die here, to a beast, before I could do anything else?

I saw the wolf get ready; this time, it wouldn't miss. With shaky hands, I readied my sword. This was it. I would hit it, or it would kill me.

Suddenly, a giant blast of fire shot forward, knocking the beast away. There was an explosion as flames engulfed the dire wolf, burning it to ashes. My head swivelled side to side, looking for the new threat, but I couldn't see anything. What had done such a thing? What could fire such a spell? Had my parents come to look for me?

There was nothing, though, but the sound of a burning fire and the wind blowing through the trees. I heard myself gulp as I picked up my bag. It felt lighter.

The fox. Where was it?

I heard a little squeak and saw it sitting calmly to the side, eyeing me. It looked playful, somehow.

"...was that you?"

The fox seemed to nod. It got up and started walking toward me, then leapt up and jumped back into my bag.

"Do you… want to come with me?"

It was illogical to expect the fox to speak, but it burrowed into my bag and stayed there. I, too, didn't move as the stress in my body melted away. I slowly sheathed my sword, my hands still shaking, and eventually, I returned.

"Des!" I heard my father yell, rushing out of the house. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, don't worry about me. I'm… a little tired…" I mumbled, my vision growing dark.

"Did you-"

"I got it," I muttered, holding up my medallion.

That was right. Everything had turned out all right in the end.

"Good job, son," I heard my father say as I fell into his arms. "We're proud of you."

~~~

I woke up in my bed, the sun streaming through my window. Everything came back to me in an instant: the forest, the trial, and that fox.

I looked up. The fox was sitting on my bed.

"You're still here?"

A squeak.

"What do you want?"

Another squeak.

I didn't know what it wanted. I didn't know what a bond felt like, but seeing as nothing felt different, it probably wasn't trying to bond with me. It just, well, hung around. It would go in and out like a cat, sometimes here, sometimes not. A little explanation later, and my family just accepted it as a friendly mana beast, and that was that.

A week later, I was in a forge. The reward for completing the trial was a custom weapon of my choice. All Windbreakers had personal weapons made by the royal blacksmith, partners that would serve them for life. I was taken to the smithy and introduced to the head blacksmith, Darren Ornn.

"What'd you want, boy?" he said gruffily.

He was short, but not too short. He was either a really tall dwarf or a really short human.

"Mr. Ornn."

"What?" he said. "I don't have all day."

"Can I participate in the making of the sword?"

"You?" The blacksmith roared with laughter. "Your hands are far too soft to be handling the hammer, boy."

"That's why I need your help."

I didn't know why I asked for this. I was sure this master could make a weapon infinitely better than I ever could. But that memory of my father pounding away at a sword kept bothering me. Why was that the one memory I had of my family?

I didn't know. But there was one thing I was sure of.

I would fulfill my father's wishes. I would never see him again, but I would do him proud. I'd make a legendary sword, the best sword the world had ever seen, A sword to cut through anything. A sword that would reach the heavens. I didn't know what that was supposed to look like, but there was a sword my father held dear to his heart.

A katana.

I didn't know if it would be practical, or if they even existed in this world, but it didn't matter. There had to be something that would remind me of who I was, what I'd done. I'd come to terms with leaving my old world. There was nothing left for me there. But I still needed something to ground me.

So we started. I drew a diagram and explained what needed to be done. Thankfully, Darren's skills were the real thing. He quickly understood what kind of blade it was and began instantly. His eyes shone, likely at the prospect of making something new and unique, but he kicked me out as soon as he started.

"I've never thought of this. No one has."

"Really? No one?"

"Boy, do you think swords are made of trees? Metal ain't cheap. The process of folding metal over and over means you need more of it."

"But custom weapons-"

"Custom weapons always want enchantments and special features. Those don't use up metal. Boy, you don't understand. I'm making you a weapon that's gonna last. This metal folding process… do you understand what kind of budget your family has? Ha. I guess you don't."

"What do you mean?"

"The reason no one's ever thought of this is simple. Folding the metal makes the blade durable, sure. But if you want durability, just enchant. That doesn't use up metal. And if you're going for a cheap blade, why try and make it last if it's no good? It's just not practical. But you've given me something new to work with, and I'll be damned if I turn this challenge down."

The process started with that. I picked out the sheath, the handle, and the wood, but I wasn't allowed to do anything else other than some customizations.

"The forge is too hot for you, boy. A halfling like me can withstand the flames. You can't."

"But-"

"I'll call you when it's safe. I don't think you understand, lad. The process of folding mythril over and over is something only the hottest of forges can handle. I can handle that heat. You, on the other hand, cannot. Now get, boy, before I throw you out myself."

With that, he spent two days before calling me back. When I arrived at the forge, it wasn't quite done. Lying on the anvil was a long metal blade, red and hot. The image of my father came rushing back as Darren hammered away.

I saw my father standing at the forge in place of the royal blacksmith. Right.

It'd been his dream.

"Come. How is it? Good?"

I looked at the blade. Something in my heart stirred. I slowly picked up a hammer and pointed.

"There… there, and there. And then do this… and refine that… then sharpen this…"

I didn't know what I was doing. All my suggestions were based on nothing but instinct, but the blacksmith seemed to agree. I watched as he hammered and forged, the blade slowly taking shape under his tools. The smell of metal and ash filled my nose as I sat there for hours, watching my sword come to life.

Finally, it was done. Even in the darkness of the forge, it shone.

"A masterpiece," Darren exhaled. "I'll never make something like this again."

"What?"

"This is your blade, boy. You made this."

"But-"

"Anyone can hammer this shape. But you… you saw something in it. I don't know how you knew what to do, but you knew. I cannot claim this as my own." His eyes shone. "It may have been my hands that moulded the metal, but it was your mind that shaped the image. Take it, and give it a good name."

He handed the sword over to me with respect. I grabbed it in my hands. It felt like an extension of my arm, perfectly balanced. I swung once, cutting cleanly through the air, a silent swish following the blade. The grip nestled perfectly between my fingers, the guard sitting just above, shining brightly.

There was only one name I could give this blade.

"Deicide," I whispered. "The God Slaying Sword."

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Darren handed me a simple sheath and pushed me out.

"Go. And make good use of that weapon."

~~~

John nodded. "Can I see it?"

Destiny handed it over, and John slowly unsheathed it.

"Interesting," he said quietly, checking out the weapon.

"What? Not good enough?"

"Dunno," John shrugged. "I don't deal with high-quality weapons."

"What do you mean?"

"Dude, I just fuck around. I don't know what a good quality weapon is. They're wasted on me. I throw bullshit at the enemy and hope it works. I don't train. Why waste a good weapon on me?"

Destiny just stared. "Then why did you want to see it?"

"Just out of curiosity," John said, returning the sword. "Plus, it's a cool sword."

"...you just wanted to see a cool sword?"

"Yeah?" John leaned back, tilting his head in curiosity as he looked at the sheathed blade. "What will you do if that sword breaks?"

"I'll make a new one."

"Aren't you attached to it?"

Destiny shook his head. "That's not the point. I'm attached, yes. But the sword itself isn't what's important. It's what it means to me. I can always remake the sword."

"Then what's the point in making it so valuable to you?"

"What?"

"If you don't care if it breaks, then why do you care about it at all?"

"You confuse me sometimes." Destiny unsheathed the sword and stared at his reflection. "Just because something can be broken doesn't mean it's trash. It just means that we can't hold onto it forever. You know?"

John closed his eyes. "Yeah. I guess."

There was a moment of awkward silence. Neither person knew what to say.

"Well? Keep going."

Destiny frowned. "What?"

"Your story? What, you made your sword and then went to deal with some shady organization?"

"...you have this weird way of switching topics quickly, you know that?"

John just shrugged. "I'm special."

"...you say this as if it's a good thing." Destiny sighed and buried his face in his hands. "Well…"

~~~

Training continued as usual for me. My older sister had her weapon, a heavy mythril hammer. It was constructed with magic so that it could be carried around conveniently, turning into a briefcase when not in use. It would hang on her back, ready to be used at a moment's notice.

We sparred a lot. I hate to admit it, but she was better than I. Despite my years of training, I couldn't match her. Granted, there were mistakes in her form, but it didn't matter. My fists could never match her hammer. I was unfamiliar with wielding a sword, too, so my skill made no difference here. More than that, though, mana took people places I never would've imagined.

My sister was kind on the outside, but inside was a monster more terrifying than the dire wolf I'd faced in the forest that day.

A year passed. That was the year my talents as a battle mage began to bloom. It wasn't uncommon for children to dabble in casting and fighting when they started training in magic. The thing was, I wasn't just dabbling.

I hit the warrior stage at nine, something unheard of. On top of that, I was just too skilled in everything. The goddess had told me I'd be talented.

What she hadn't told me was just how talented that would be.

Most children started with only one affinity toward a specific element, and a few special ones displayed two. As time progressed, affinities would grow, and children would develop more, but most didn't start with that many.

I'd started with four.

My parents didn't treat me any differently for it, though. Neither did my sister. The only thing they did was raise their expectations of me. It felt good, I have to admit. I didn't want to be anything special. I was the hero, but I was also me. I wanted to be a son and a brother, to have a family and enjoy peaceful days. It'd been so long since I'd last experienced a life like this, and I was growing addicted to it.

Unfortunately, it wouldn't last forever.

Between the time of my trial and my ninth birthday, I'd grown closer to the princess. My parents were close friends with the royal family, so they thought it'd be a good idea to let me and the royal princess grow closer. Perhaps it had to do with how close we were in age, but I personally wasn't entirely comfortable.

Unfortunately, there was no one to oppose the idea. Hart had already expressed her desire to act as the captain of a guard rather than be a bodyguard, and none of the other Windwalkers had opposing opinions. All the other heirs were grown or too young. Besides, the rate at which I'd grown made me a prime candidate.

For the first time since coming to this world, I found myself cursing my talent.

I'd been receiving training in bodyguarding from my family, so I was given a trial of sorts. I was to shadow the princess, just for today. Official bodyguards would still be present, but they would be hidden, waiting in the shadows. I was just to be her personal attendant.

That kind of responsibility made me nervous. I didn't want to deal with someone so important.

Fortunately, the princess was a very kind person. She was initially shy, hiding from me, but that was alright. I wasn't exactly looking forward to the idea of holding such a prestigious position. Well, I'd do my best, regardless of anyone's feelings. I stepped forward, bowing as etiquette demanded.

"Hello, your majesty."

She was having afternoon tea on the terrace outside. It was a pleasant day, with blue skies, calm winds, and an early summer warmth. I pulled up a chair and sat next to her.

She didn't shoo me away, but she seemed wary of me.

"I'm Destiny. You can call me Des," I said with a smile. "I'll be your bodyguard from here on out."

"..."

Again, a chilly response. The scene felt familiar, somehow, but alien at the same time. Other than that, nothing happened.

Despite all my reservations, though, the princess didn't seem like that bad of a person. I wouldn't mind being around her.

That was just our first encounter, though. As more and more meetings were arranged, I'd bring her treats or trinkets I'd find lying around. I wound up in the royal castle regularly, and not just on bodyguarding duty.

She was still quiet. Still withdrawn. But I didn't think it was the king or queen inviting me to the castle. Finally, one day, my suspicions were confirmed.

"Your majesty. Here is your tea."

Butler services weren't part of my job description, but I had no problems doing something as simple as this. I set the pot down, but the girl wasn't looking at it. She turned to me, her eyes avoiding mine.

"...Cel. You can call me Cel," she said quietly. "It's short for Celeste."

"Your majesty, I-"

"Cel," she said, poking my chest. "Got it?"

A smile slipped through my lips.

"All right, Cel."

It was then that I would say we could call ourselves friends. She opened up a lot more after that day. We talked about Scholaris, or the mana beasts, or anything, really. I found that she was a cheerful girl, full of kindness, almost to the point of naivety.

I later found out that this was one of her weaknesses.

It was night. I was up practicing magic when I felt nature call. I slipped through the halls and went to relieve myself, but as I was going back, I heard a voice. It was the king. I knew it wasn't right to stop and listen, but… surely just one time was forgivable, right? I was mature. I could keep a secret.

"...good influence on her. It's been a while since I've seen her smile."

"Her healing ability is very unique. I've never seen such a strong healing ability."

"She's naive," I heard the king sigh. "She wanted to help others, but the noble families… they wanted to exploit her ability. She didn't know of the concept of malice before that. She was young, but I should've taught her-"

"It's not your fault, your majesty."

"Please. I told you to call me Aegnor when we are alone."

"...Aegnor. You have a wonderful child. All we can do is raise them the best we can. The world will throw challenges our way, but all we can do is face them, right? Your daughter will grow up to be a wonderful ruler."

"Ha. Using my own words against me, I see. Very well. I hope your son will grow up just as fine. He is, after all, our little one's first friend."

I felt my face heat up. No way. She didn't have any friends? That would explain a lot. And those circumstances of hers… no wonder she'd been so cold to me the first time we'd met.

I couldn't judge, though. With how I was raised, there weren't many other children for me to interact with. I saw other Windwalkers at family gatherings, but none were near my age.

So, just as I was Celeste's first friend, she was equally my first friend.

~~~

My life from age nine to ten passed peacefully. There was talk of us both attending Scholaris at the age of twelve, but that was still a few years away.

There were still bumps in the road.

It was shortly after my tenth birthday. The princess and I were walking in the forest, followed by two guards. She'd wanted to wander around the castle, and it wasn't like there was any reason to stop her. What could possibly harm us here?

"Look at this, Des!" Celeste exclaimed as she ran down the path. "This is a special flower. I read that it's used in potions!"

"Are you going to be a potion maker instead of a princess?" I teased. "Come on, what're you going to do with that?"

"Hmph! You'll see," she said, still clutching it in her hands.

"Here," I sighed, taking it from her.

I pushed it between the strands of her hair, and the bright yellow flower blended in well with her golden, silky hair.

"U-um… thanks," she said, her face turning red.

We continued down the path, Celeste fascinated by everything she saw. There wasn't much, but she found it all very interesting. Suddenly, there was a shout. I whirled around to see a guard's neck get pierced by a knife. The other was suddenly grabbed, his head engulfed in flames as the caster holding him cast a fireball in direct contact with his target.

"Des-!"

I whipped around and saw that the princess was alright. She held onto me, shaking.

"...quiet," I said in a low voice.

Silently, the two men walked closer.

"What about the boy?"

"Kill him. We don't need him. The boss said to only grab the girl."

"Why the girl?"

"Does it matter? Just take her."

They were speaking like we couldn't hear them. Like we were objects, inventory to be thrown onto a cart.

I glared, unsheathing my blade. "You'll have to get through me first."

The two men looked at each other, then burst out laughing.

"You? That's hilarious!"

"Did you hear that? The little boy's gonna-"

They stopped laughing as I leapt forward, blade flashing in the sun. They quickly regained their composure and faced me, weapons out. I didn't care. My mind didn't have time to think. I swung my blade with all my might, but a small dagger easily stopped it. Sparks flew as metal clashed with metal, but I didn't falter, bringing my blade back and taking a big leap in retreat.

"Not bad, kid. Not bad. But we're better."

The caster raised his hand and chanted, summoning a volley of fire arrows. I chanted a spell in return, summoning balls of water, but it wasn't enough. My spells were pierced, the water sizzling away into steam, forcing me to leap out of the way.

I winced in pain as an arrow pierced my calf, the fire scorching my skin and closing the wound. A shout escaped my mouth as I fell to the ground, the searing pain piercing through my body. I felt dizzy but held myself together, spitting on the ground before struggling to my feet. The smell of burning flesh was nauseating, but I wasn't about to lose here.

"You should've stayed down," the man grunted. "You might've lived."

I raised my blade, sparks flying as I barely parried an attack. I saw the edge of the knife mere inches from my face, sliding along the edge of my blade.

"You've got the instincts of a warrior for a kid so young. Who are you? Some kind of secret weapon?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I growled, trying to ignore the pain in my leg.

Suddenly, there was a warmth that spread across my body. I could feel the muscles in my leg stitching themselves back together.

"Des," Celeste whispered. "We'll be ok, right?"

"Yeah," I said. "Don't worry."

I clenched the handle of my sword and faced my opponents once more.

"A healer of that level? At that age? No wonder Breaker wants her."

"No kidding. She'd sell for a lot."

Sell? What? Were these slavers?

"You're not putting a single finger on her," I growled, pointing the tip of my sword at them. "I told you. You'll have to go through me."

The two men looked at each other and sighed.

"Well, we tried. Sorry, kid."

There was a bright flash. A flashbang? No, those didn't exist. Then what was-

I stopped thinking as a searing pain entered my stomach. My years of experience told me I'd been stabbed. Suddenly, a heavy blow hit my head from the left, causing it to ring. I felt something wet leave my nose. Blood. Something pinched at my arms. Fire.

Too much was going on at once. I was blind. Disoriented. I felt myself throw up, the smell of iron piercing through the bile. Something warm and wet trickled out from my ears. Something hard was under me. The ground, probably.

An indeterminate amount of time later, I could see. My vision was blurry, but I watched as Celeste was being tied up.

"Des!" she yelled, reaching out.

I tried to reach out, but I couldn't. My body wouldn't listen to me no matter how hard I tried. I couldn't even yell, no matter how much the pain hurt. I wanted to pass out so badly. Rest would've been welcome, but I forced myself to watch as Celeste was carried off.

The last feeling I had was that of failure as unconsciousness took me away.

When I woke up, the sun was still in the sky. I blinked slowly, checking my body. It was… fine? I flexed my fingers and was surprised that they responded normally. Even with mana recovery, something like that shouldn't be possible. My body wasn't capable of doing something like that.

"Cel!" I yelled, sitting up straight.

No one was nearby. Panic settled into my heart. I checked my surroundings. I still had my sword. Thank goodness. I had to go after them.

A squeaking sound got my attention. I looked to my right and saw the fox. Why was it here?

What happened next was unbelievable. A bright light surrounded the fox as it grew. I covered my eyes, shielding them, but when the light died down, the beast was gone. In its place was a woman in a shrine maiden's outfit, a single pink fluffy tail trailing behind her. Furry ears sat on her head, twitching as she looked at me with a mischievous smile.

"Now, it's my turn to save you."

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