Carried by a softened breeze, seven long years flew by, changing every so often throughout the four unique seasons of the vast world of Artana. In the eyes of time, an almighty existence all by itself, I was no longer the kid I used to be. In the palm of my hand, I had the freedom to do more than ever, and today I returned home from a trip to the village.
All by myself, I daresay!
Slowly, with calm steps, attempting not to alert the beast, I headed towards the entrance, but to no avail. Sharper than me by far, it ran. Quickly, I noticed him, but all my mouth could say was a sort of whimpering through some thin yells.
“Little saint! Oh, no!” Helplessly, I got jumped on by my two-year-old dog, falling with him on top of me on the grass.
I rubbed the back of his head as he slobbered on my face.
“Yuck... not again.” Despite it, I laughed it off, pushing him to the side with some brute strength, as he was considerably heavy. Upon success, I changed into a seating position and hugged his neck with both arms, rubbing my head on his cheek, and delivering the drool back to him.
Unbidden, a memory came from two years ago.
In the fields, I was laying down on the ground next to my seated mom after a small dose of training.
“This is pretty tough. I can’t keep up at all.”
She chuckled brightly. “You’re still young, after all.”
And that was the most significant truth. As a mere twelve-year-old, it was impossible to match her who had been doing this for a while longer than me. That and the gap between our bodies.
Mine was yet growing up, so I could only go at it steadily to not overburden myself. In a way, both magically and physically required me to tackle it slowly.
Though there was one thing that stood out from the rest, she confessed to me that the better the teacher, the faster our skills would develop. However, the good mentors were quite expensive and out of our budget. As the kind-hearted daughter that I was, my words assured her that it was fine taking it slowly.
‘If there’s something important in this world is to have an excellent base,’ I thought of my mother’s words, who felt knowledgeable. Yet as any youngster, my mind wanted more and faster, even if saying the other way around out of respect and love.
“Thanks to my training with dad. I haven’t had the chance to use my system library skill.”
A complaint escaped my mouth, causing her to chuckle.
“The speed at which mana recovers is quite slow, aside from when we’re sleeping, but perhaps in the future, you’ll manage with a bigger pool.”
I smiled awkwardly, filled with confusion by the term. “Pool?”
Her finger drew a stick figure in the dirt along with a circle around it.
“So this is you, and this line around is the mana you have. We call it a pool, in simpler words, your maximum mana amount that you can check in your little window.”
“Oh...” My cheek was resting on the ground while staring at the drawing she made close to me. “I understand now. Thank you.”
At that moment, I noticed her gaze go above and beyond me for a moment, returning to me with a big, mischievous smile, causing me to wonder what she was up to. Yet, to no avail, as I was sure today was not my birthday. No saintess was passing through, and any seasonal festivals were still far from happening. Thus, my mind gave it a rest, deciding to wait for whatever it could be.
A while later, as I was about to head to my room, my mom’s hands grabbed my shoulders.
“Young lady, where do you think you’re going without a bath?”
My eyes rolled, hoping that it wouldn’t come to this, as all I wanted to do was fall on my bed and rest, but escaping her grasp turned out in failure. It always did. She always got her way. “Yes...” and I whispered without her hearing. "Stubborn woman."
I muttered lowly, being directed by her to the bathroom where we bathed together. It was a fight about not falling asleep during the bubbles and the hot water that relaxed me, leaving my mom to handle most of the cleaning. Not that she minded, as I was her kid, and there were clear signs of fun in her expression. Even tickling me so I wouldn’t fall asleep in the bathtub. It was especially hard since she had boiled the water in the fireplace. It felt just right.
“You’re looking like a princess now!”
The joy in her tone made me smile faintly as I turned around and headed straight to my bed, naked.
‘Need to get a pajama before it gets cold...’ The first words that went through my mind after entering the room were followed by strangeness on top of my bed, “What? Why is there a wooden box?”
I tiptoed all the way to it, confused as it was taking space that was meant for me, only to have my emerald eyes fall on its insides and a thin yell that resounded through the entire house, “A puppy! A puppy! A puppy!” I repeated it three times in annoying, low-pitched tones, almost capable of breaking the glass of my small window.
“It’s so tiny and so white and brown!” Softly, I took it out of the box, placing it on top of my bed with the utmost care, along with a cloth that came with it. “I can’t believe it!”
The excitement within me was tremendous, keeping me awake when I was close to collapsing before. Times like these were when I realized how mysterious human beings could be: How could we possibly spend so much energy when we were supposedly completely dry?
But despite my ecstatic mood, a sneeze escaped me. A clear warning of my body being without protection after a bath that was hotter than the temperature inside these walls.
Without wanting to get sick, I walked backward to the closet without leaving my sight of the pup, who seemed to smell my bed comfortably. My hand went into the opened gap searching for clothes. A little harder than usual, as I didn’t want to let the tiny animal out of my sight, as he could fall off.
“Ah... I’m so stupid." Without time to waste, I placed him inside the box along with the cloth under him, making sure it was comfortable enough. Then my hands lifted the container and placed it near the closet. I could’ve left it there, but my excitement was still more than what my heart could handle. Thus, my next step was to get what I needed, eventually dressing up in a light-pink pajama.
Now that his eyes took notice of me, he seemed quite eager to leave the box. And to my surprise, dad went inside, meeting up with us while wearing a big smirk on his face, “Did you like him?”
“Yes!” Then it quickly resounded to me. “Him?” I took a peek after lifting the puppy in the air, consenting with a light nod, grasping confirmation about the gender.
“The person who gave him to me mentioned he’s two months old, so we don’t need to worry about the milk from his mother.”
In those words, he took the chance to educate me further on the subject. How things really worked for not only animals but also adults, something I already knew from their lustful and happy days when I was a baby. Basically, he didn't want him to go around breeding other villagers' dogs.
“I understand.”
We traded serious glances before he resumed an excited, smug, “So, what will you be naming him?”
“That is a good question...”
I patted him softly, taking notice that white was not his only color. It was close to 80% of it, though. But around his eyes, it was more of a brown tone, and so were his ears. Through the torso, there were two circular spots of brown, too, but a lighter type. Whenever I looked at him, he matched my own gaze as if taking notice of me. I swayed my head left and right, realizing that he followed me with his gaze. And then, as if having fun perhaps, he yelped very softly, a not-even close sample of the real thing.
“Whoa!” My two emeralds remained in his brown eyes: the same color as the inside of a peanut. “He barked! Sort of!” I shouted happily, causing him to do it again, and my father laughed at our behavior.
“You’ll have to take great care of him now, and don’t let him out on too hot days. This type is more into the other three seasons, especially the cold ones. The good thing is that we live near the mountains, so unlike other places, even in the hottest season, he won’t have much trouble adapting.”
My dad’s words matched his fluffy layer of fur. A small one that was likely to grow in time.
“I’ll name him little saint.” That was what a pet from an old storybook was called, a dog who helped those in need during cold and dark times. Sure, this pup was far off from such a legend, but for me, it didn’t matter, for the name sounded pretty cool.
“It has a nice ring to it,” Dad crossed his arms, thinking how peculiarly marvelous it was.
“It seems my good naming sense went down the lineage,” the three of us turned around to meet my mother, whose blonde hair remained inside a towel, and her body inside a bigger one, causing a mischievous grin to appear on dad’s face. And compared to other times, he sure held on to his feet. At least till she curved down to pet little saint, showing a great cleavage that would cause any man to gulp, and foam from their mouth.
There had been that favorable time in my memory when I could carry my little puppy between my hands, but in the present, quicker, he would be the one doing the carrying. Perhaps even allowing me to mount him, or being dragged by his fierce strength. I giggled, provoking his loud bark to resound through the plains.
“Come on, let’s go inside,” my finger pointed at the entrance, causing him to head there. Through a lot of effort and patience, as he could be seriously stubborn sometimes, even more than me on moody days. I trained him alongside my dad, whom he respected more than me. Possibly from the few times he peed on my parents’ bed, and my father punished him for it one day. After that, he’d only do it outside, a lesson learned through a hard method, but to his happiness and our own, it worked out.
“Today sure is cold,” I crossed my arms, enduring the chill as we were currently in year 5014, day 5 of the moon season. This time was when it was the coldest and the most dangerous of all of them. Also, the seasonal time dictated the end of another year.
Once at the door, I rubbed each of his paws on the entrance carpet, avoiding dirtying the house that way, and with some hope for him to learn how to do it on his own at some point.
“Alright, boy, we’re all set.” My hand reached out for the door’s handle, rotating it, and allowing passage to him. As much as this was a dog meant for family, he was not so much as a gentleman, going through the gap faster than I could follow. “Slow little saint, slower!”
He was bound to end up crashing into someone again, but such was the life of owning a dog almost bigger than myself. Not that he’d jump on random people from the guests we received over the years, but I had to keep him away from them. Otherwise, he’d act rather aggressively.
A guardian of our home, a very adamant one at that.
“Hey, Mom!” I waved at her, who turned around at my calling, reacting to the earthquake that approached her.
“Sit or no food for you today!” At those words, little saint placed his bottom on the wooden floor, causing his rush to halt, yet sliding briefly in her direction, stopping almost at her feet.
No food had been the punishment my dad used on him that one time, as gluttonous as this pet of mine was, it struck him deeply. Rooted profoundly enough for him to act twice, even if in his little mind, he did what he did out of love and affection. With a slightly annoyed tone, Rosaline proceeded, hovering at me with some resentment toward the way I looked, “what did I tell you about going out into the cold without a coat?”
As much as I had grown physically, Mom’s words still pierced my tiny self harshly, not to forget she was still a lot taller than me. From the multifarious residents, my eyes scrolled through Astia village, and all the women were shorter than her. And on top of that, the two of us were the only blondes.
Whenever I went there, conversations from the grown-ups, mainly my parents’ acquaintances, usually began with: “You must be Rosa’s daughter.”
Such was the bonus of having a rare hair color. A lot of them were more like my dad with his brown style, but the majority persisted with black hair, and for this, there was a special religious reason.
“I’ll be more careful,” I whimpered at her, giving the right answer as a smile quickly surfaced on her face.
“Good,” she signaled me with her right-handed index finger to approach, and at that, I did. Once in range, she scuffed the top of my shoulders and head with a few pats to throw the remains of snow out of my blonde hair, causing it to fall on the little saint who remained at my side, behaving like an obedient dog. That was until he gazed at me, annoyed, shaking his body, and throwing the white particles everywhere around. Once his body stopped, he stared at me sideways, sticking out his tongue happily.
“Why you!?” This time it was I who attacked him, with a lot of rubs and friction through his torso sides, getting him to fight me back with his licking and obviously large amounts of drool.
At the sight of us playing with one another, my mother sighed, wearing a weary yet kind smile. Without time for me to add anything, she headed toward the kitchen. A little while later, I groaned some words out.
“You win, you win! I surrender!” I scorned my fate as the loser since the beast once again beat me in a wrestling match.
“Saint! The food is ready!”
The moment my mother yelled those words, I became non-existent to him, almost like he gained a pair of wings. He flew to the kitchen in a swift motion.
“And there he goes...” I mumbled with a fatigued expression, waiting for the following calamity to happen.
“Not so fast!” Rosaline squealed, and I could hear a metal plate hitting the wall.
“And this was why I told her to feed him outside,” I too sighed in exasperation at how silly my family was. Didn't take me long to leave the cold floor, feeling amused about the entire situation.
As my body turned to the side, about to head out to my room, Mom’s voice reached out for me, “did you sign up to become a helper?”
“Yes! They asked me to head there tomorrow for my introduction to a potential team.” My hand trembled with excitement as it closed into a fist. Reminded of the meeting, I rushed to add, “I also met Elise there. She’s becoming a helper in secret, so don’t tell Vicent.”
A head peeked out through the kitchen entrance with an open mouth, “That girl is?”
At that, I nodded, lifting a finger in the air, stopping it right in front of my nose, “she hates alchemy and is tired of studying it with her grandfather.”
A certain truth that would break the old man’s heart, thus it was necessary to keep it a secret from him. Words and actions that my mom consented to rather quickly, understanding that it was not her place to divulge such information.
“That’s quite a shame. She was pretty talented from Vicent’s words.”
I muttered a sound while shrugging my shoulders, heading to my room, leaving a brief gap open since little saint enjoyed checking up on me. And by that, I truly meant it! Even while being asleep, he came every night to see if I was fine, a behavior that surprised my parents, but that they welcomed with gratitude. Truly, a guardian of this house. Be that as it may, thanks to his nocturnal presence, my fear of the outside reduced, and the number of nightmares became practically non-existent.
A seat, I found by the desk, checking up on my worn-out diary. The strange, dark book shone whenever I closed it, erasing whatever information it had in it. A wooden pencil, possibly the greatest creation of this era, allowed the production of ink and feathers to be reduced in diverse branches, and, of course, poorer people like me to afford some. I began drawing a bit on it, from diverse forms like squares, rectangles, and circles to stick figures. After some years of doing this, now and then, there had been no major improvement.
Other than better control with the pencil, so these forms actually looked like what I imagined. But more complex drawings like portraits were a realm way beyond my capabilities. Nonetheless, it was something I enjoyed, and with the amount of paper, an infinite one at that, I figured there were no issues since I didn’t waste any money on it.
Its value in Artana varied vastly, depending on where our goal was aimed at. To have a stable seasonal incoming, using a job like a farmer seemed to be enough to get along without significant issues, the exceptions being when adversity, like weather, caused damage to the fields. But most farmers still wouldn't earn enough to be able to have better lifestyles, just barely enough to survive. The mandatory taxes made sure peasants would remain serfs for the rest of their lives.
Rohan, a friend of my family, a merchant who worked in Astia for as long as I could remember, had been selling my crops while deducting a 10% tax from the total profit for himself. A humble amount, as he was the one who handled the transportation of such merchandise.
Part of the money ended up on clothing as I, like any kid, grew up tremendously, but compared to most girls, my growth spur had been one level higher. I glanced down at my chest and below, muttering softly, “the charms of a young woman.”
Didn’t take over two seconds for my eyes to roll at these words. Because of my hair, boys and even girls always had this suspicious glint in their eyes, as if I differed from them. From my conversations with Elise, one of the few friends I made, it turned out that the great goddess Aria was one who had long black hair. On top of that, the summoned that she brought to our kingdom had equally colored features as her own most of the time.
Because of that, the most prestigious color for hair was black and dark brown. This does not exclude the green of the Saintess, who took over the church symbol, the octagram. There was not a single royal nor a noble family that partook of the blonde. This promoted our looks to be unique, especially the farthest away from the capital.
‘Certainly, there must be families like us...’ in my mind, I hoped such words to be true. However, knowing and having heard of the fanaticism that occurred in the capital. There was a big chance that people didn’t like them, and even went as far as to prosecute such individuals. I sighed at the rumours, causing frustration to outdo my control, ruining another drawing.
“Ugh, I suck at this.” With both hands, I closed it and picked up the book that was next to it. The tales of Artana, its title, by far the oldest gift I had, which wasn't given by my parents. It had been a gift from Elise's parents.
In it were short stories of ancient humans who had once roamed the Lumen kingdom. In the first chapter, my two emeralds, like many other times before, tingled through it. There was just something about this story that made me love it, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on what exactly.
Tales of Artana I
Amidst the darkness, there stood a knight, drenched in red atop a mountain of corpses.
Silent, her gaze crossed the battlefield, a minute ago raging with cries and shouts.
She would weep, yet she couldn't. Her pride demanded no sound, her honor no tear.
For behind her were thousands who awaited the command.
No man would think of her less than a hero.
The battles won, sending a tremble, all in the name of her King.
One couldn't fight with intent to kill and expect to survive. One couldn't prevent others from dying. And yet she tried.
Fierce, her enemies were, still she was fiercer.
Great many lives had been changed and ended, and great many souls had bonded together.
The soldiers often saw her wearing a full set of red armor and a long white sword in a black scabbard.
Some said the sword had a tinge of blue, others went as far as to write tales of its mysteries and wonders.
In the weapon's majestic metal shape, one could notice small, beautifully carved in gold letters.
Strung together the call for our savior, the Goddess' name.
To pass the sword not to the noblest, but to the strongest, such was Lumen Kingdom' ceremony and will of her holiness.
Countless battles had been fought, miriad of lives had been lost. Days passed, the world morphed. Yet, the one and only perpetual companion, everepresent friend: the stench of death and sight of blood remained.
She colored her armor in crimson, to mask what had long been etched into her bones.
Alongside the bloodbath came the need to ponder about those who died, those who would. And only hopeful question shall remain: "Will this ever end?"
The woman picked her sword from the corpse she had slain last, waved it, splattering the blood, and sheathed it.
With the utmost respect, she bowed her head and gave a prayer to Goddess Aria in the name of the dead.
Once her posture went back to normal, she turned around, allowing the wind to blow her cape.
WIth her arm raised, an echo of victory chants rose, like a turbulent wave of an earthquakes to shake these lands.
The once-peasant and now a hero strode forth. Raising the flags her man followed.
Amidst the darkness, there stood a knight drenched in red, in front of a living army.
“This story always makes me cry.” With my index finger, I smoothly wiped the tear off the corner of my eye. There was a peculiar, interesting thing about this book. While it had a title like many others, it lacked an author.
Once, I attempted to visit the library. But that was when its owner, an old man called Einstein, told me a permit was necessary. Thus, not only was I stuck with my system library skill, which had not given me new stories, but my achievement, too, came to a halt.
“Once I become an adventurer, I’ll read all of your books!” I proclaimed back then, causing the old man to smile joyfully. To which he told me he’d patiently await my return. Other than adventuring, my dad explained that some entities sold permits, and this necessarily didn’t go towards libraries alone. No. In fact, many institutes and associations existed throughout the kingdom, each with its own license.
There were also educational systems for the high-born: schools, we could call them. The name designated by the nobles was magical institutes and battle academies. Any who partook in either had the authorization to enter some secluded areas of the kingdom.
Once again, I sighed, displeased with how things worked around in this realm. It was thanks to so many unjust laws that humankind lacked progress in many areas. And through bureaucracy, even summoned ones with advanced knowledge quickly met their limits on what they could change. The nobles aimed for more power. The royal family held the rule of the kingdom, and the church competed with them at all levels.
‘One would think going through so much despair would change their minds...’ I scorned all of those factions, not willing to take part in any of them in the future. Especially since at fifteen years, I, like any other human, could receive a betrothal proposal for engagement and later a formal marriage at eighteen. Having excluded acceptance in my head, from the men of the robes, the nobles, and, of course, the royals. I’d potentially go for one with a humble birth when it came to that.