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Black Heart Chapter Three
🕑 Added 2022-06-08 22:37:46 +0000 UTCThe elder son, Edward Ravensworth, was eleven years old to her twelve when Malicia had been brought to the estate.
He was still set to inherit. Not because he was the first child of the Ravensworth's blood, and not because he was a boy while Malicia was a girl, though her inheriting had never truly been in question as long as the Ravensworths had any children of their union at all. Rather, Edward would inherit because he had been born with the Class of Aristocrat.
It simply left him better suited for fief-management and peace-time leadership, and as such it would be the height of folly to let someone else inherit while he was available. That would be true even if he were a newborn child in a family of half a dozen, never mind being the elder of two sons.
It would, however, be a disadvantage when he attended the Academy himself, because it was not a Class that brought combat or dungeon-exploration benefits with it. As such, Malicia didn't see him often outside of catch-up tutoring sessions where she was taught the absolute minimum of what she really, truly needed to know 'as a Ravensworth', even if she wasn't set to inherit anything.
It was something of a balm to know that there was a contractual arrangement in place for her. Even if they had a daughter that they liked better, born with the right class to keep up the tradition, the Ravensworths were still obligated to see Malicia through her schooling as long as she didn't do something that was considered a breach of contract on her end, and she would still be considered a member of the Ravensworth family.
Not a close one, and she wouldn't be granted so much as a living stipend once her time at the Academy was completed, but with an Adventurer's License Malicia shouldn't need one even if she had utterly failed to make arrangements before graduation.
One of her duties at the Academy would be to lend some amount of aid to making arrangements in advance of Edward's time. Essentially, laying the groundwork to arrange a group of Adventurer candidates that wouldn't mind dragging him through the minimum number of mandatory dungeon assaults that were required, even though he wouldn't be able to significantly contribute.
Malicia was not expected to play a particularly significant role in making those arrangements, as both he and the elder Ravensworths were networking among their peers as well... but she was obligated to make overtures to a certain degree. It was something she would have to keep in mind, particularly if a new child was born.
The Ravensworths were still young enough that there were some years yet before that wasn't a possibility to be concerned about any longer, after all.
The younger son, Adrian Ravensworth, was only seven years old upon her arrival.
He was, however, a seven year old Swordsman, and the noble classes had the money to make that more than just an interesting item of trivia. She had arrived to the boy already owning his own practice blade and training alongside estate guardsmen, taking swings against straw dummies to develop his body and ingrain muscle memory, just the same as she had had dying animals dumped on her floor for impromptu lessons to attempt to develop her healing capabilities.
Neither of their lessons had stopped there, of course.
It was... certainly something, that the Ravensworths took Adrian's training at least as seriously as they did making sure that the stains would never come out of that room's floorboards. The practice advanced to footwork, being able to move in any direction while adapting how to swing the blade for best effect.
And then it advanced to live combat.
The Ravensworths had stray monsters imported for that, captured alive, delivered in heavy chained crates, and kept only briefly as they were used as training materials and then rendered down for whatever valuable parts might still be present afterward.
He wasn't in serious danger, of course, for two reasons.
First, there was a ring of armored guards surrounding such training events, ready to rush in with shields and spears to push the monster back with in case it ever slipped past Adrian's blade to strike him in turn. It would essentially require the heavens themselves opening up for some god to lean through, point down, and declare... 'No. Fuck you. Fuck this young man in particular.' for the grade of monsters they were using to actually present a serious risk to Adrian's health or life when there were a half-dozen guards paid and equipped well enough to throw themselves between him and any genuine peril.
Second?
Because these had also become lessons for Malicia.
Not the combat itself, but becoming accustomed to being in battle and to healing minor injuries of a party member while under pressure. She wasn't supposed to learn how to fight here, but how to support the fighters.
Today's opponent?
At much of the way through their eighth and thirteenth year, respectively, Adrian was facing off against a Giant Mantis. It was an E-rank insectoid monster, with thin chitinous armor and a pair of vicious forelimbs that had moderately defensive plates of chitin on the outside and cruel, extremely sharp hooked barbs set in a row along the inside, ready to lash out and tear into soft flesh or penetrate and slice into thicker hide in a sudden burst of motion. The mandibles on the bottom of its head were similarly sharp, but presented less of a threat... if only because they were well behind those forelimbs. Typically, they would only be employed once the insects prey had already fallen. The creature was relatively fragile at the joints and narrower parts of its body, such as the spindly legs it balanced on, but striking such a point relied on being able to actually hit the rapidly darting insect in the first place... which was trickier than it appeared, despite the size of it.
It stood taller than Adrian did, and could momentarily buzz wings on the back of its body to increase its speed in a given direction or change direction in the middle of a hop, confusing a foe and baiting out overextended swings. Alternatively, it could stay in place and use the momentarily floating buzz of its wings to quickly reorient itself to face in a different direction, ensuring that it was difficult to simply circle around its large body and strike at the rear, where its own scythe-like arms could not lash out in response. Or, of course, it could do multiple of those things, changing direction and darting immediately into a rapid lunge, because of course. Why wouldn't it be able to do that.
If there hadn't been so much effort put into ensuring that Adrian wasn't at risk in these exercises, making him fight one would be folly. But the guards were there and at the ready.
... The most unsettling thing about the creature was its eyes, Malicia found. There was some intrinsic quality to them where... no matter where you were in relation to the creature, a spot similar to a pupil would appear on the glossy sheen of the bulbous eyes, always seeming to be looking directly at an observer, regardless of where the Mantis' true attention was focused. It was something that Malicia had to put effort into setting aside and disregarding.
That was a mistake on her part.
Suddenly and without warning, the Mantis abandoned its engagement with Adrian and darted in to close range with her instead, clearing the ground and raising its forelimbs for a strike before the guards could respond.
If they had instructions to respond if she was attacked, that was. It seemed logical, but... all the same.
Malicia almost froze at the sight of those dripping mandibles looming in.
But... almost on its own, her body responded to the threat. Her feet braced in place, hips twisted in the way that had been demonstrated to add power to a strike, and the back of her hand crashed into the side of the monster's head.
There was a crunching, cracking, wetly tearing noise as the head spun around on the monster's narrow neck... twisting and falling halfway off entirely as Malicia came to her senses and stepped backwards, and again, before the insectile mass could collapse onto her.
"... Heh. Hehe." Malicia chuckled after a moment, eyes wide and heart hammering in her chest.
It... It felt good. That slight sensation of something giving way beneath her knuckles. It was...
Her thoughts were interrupted by the clicking of the butler's tongue.
"That won't do. Who said you were supposed to stand your ground?" he lectured lightly. "A healer falls back and continues to support the attackers. That is your role, miss Malicia. Now look... you've cut the young master Adrian's training short today."
Malicia grimaced as the butler gestured towards the sulking young swordsman. Then he clapped his hands together in a moment of feigned realization.
"Aha! I know just the solution." he declared, before kicking over the Mantis' carcass.
With his foot braced on the Mantis' torso and one hand grasping either forelimb, the butler heaved upward and wrenched them loose with little spurts of already-congealing insect blood.
His broadly glinting smile didn't shift a bit as he tossed the forelimbs down at Malicia's feet and then kicked the rest of the carcass off to the side of the training grounds.
"Pick them up." he instructed. "We can't let the young master's training for the day end here, after all. So... Pick them up. As you've destroyed the training material, I'll kindly ask you to take responsibility, miss Malicia."
The guards seemed uneasy, but a sharp look from the butler's eyes silenced them before they could even start murmuring among themselves.
For a noble estate, the butler wasn't just one more member of the serving staff, after all. There was a significant amount of authority to the role, allowing him to act for the benefit of the family and the household without needing to consult with the master of the house over every little thing. It could be assumed that an estate's butler spoke with the voice of the estate's master, and acted as their own hands.
With no other real choice, Malicia lifted the forelimbs.
They were... large, and unwieldy masses of flesh and chitin. But they were also strangely light. Or perhaps it was just an A-rank in potential for Strength that let Malicia feel that way. They didn't cut easily through the air like a blade... it was closer to a pair of clubs with pointy parts.
But... she could swing them fairly easily, as long as she kept a firm grip on the narrow part that had been near the joint, where the butler had held to rip them out in the first place.
Adrian's satisfaction was visibly rising as the training resumed, with a few testing swings from the cumbersome monster limbs... and the edge of the steel blade quickly tore into the back of one. Ah. That was a mistake. The back portion of the limbs was designed and felt something like a shield, but it of course couldn't hold up against the blades of decent steel weapons. This was only an E-rank monster to begin with, after all.
It was more important to dodge than to parry, and more important to parry and push the sword aside than it was to try to block the blows directly. It wouldn't take long for the limbs to be ruined beyond any use.
Clumsy as they were, Malicia wasn't currently confident in trying to fight against someone who held a sword with just her hands.
Footwork... how had they explained it? Carefully and nimbly... like dancing.
Malicia hadn't been included directly in footwork lessons, but as a noble of some kind she would be expected to be able to dance. So there had been lessons.
Step backward, step to the side, stop, side, side, back again. Circling around, never turning, eyes on her opponent as testing swings presented a rush.
Was... She smiling? She shouldn't be smiling. She clearly wasn't supposed to be having-
Fun.
The thought was interrupted as a driving lunge passed through her guard before Malicia could sidestep, the tip driving up against her ribs and grinding against them as it glanced away.
"Ah." Adrian said dumbly at the sight of blood, hesitating as his eyes turned toward the butler.
Malicia's teeth had grit in a rictus, forcing the pain down, and she had already begun circulating energy before the butler could speak.
"Catch your breath here if you wish. But there's no need to stop. Miss Malicia can heal her own wounds the same as yours, after all." the butler declared, as though he were dictating the flavor of a dessert's glaze to the kitchen staff.
This was the largest breather that Malicia would get, as Adrian nodded trustingly and then returned to a ready position before resuming his attack.
Minor injuries built up over time... little nicks and cuts and bruises, all of which hurt. But Malicia didn't have to sit still to heal herself, the way she did to heal someone else. She could, and did, keep moving.
But she couldn't heal the monster forelimbs that she was using as weapons.
Bit by bit, they were deteriorating, as could be expected. So she was left with a choice... Surrender, begging mercy for her error? That was an option. Just continue to fight until they fell apart, and hope that the butler declared the training complete? She supposed that was a possibility. Or... somehow, she could win?
How, though? How to turn this situation into a victory...
The training longsword that Adrian was using was a little oversized, so that it could continue to be used as he grew. The hilt was long enough that he could set both hands on it before the pommel, allowing him to swing with greater and heavier force if he saw an opportunity to commit to such a strike that wouldn't be punished... Malicia had done her best to refuse him those, but she wasn't an experienced fighter, so the opportunities still came.
The crossguard, though, just before the blade... that was long, stretching to either side.
The organic hooks on these forelimbs were the only part that could really stand up to a blow or two from steel, durable and sharp as they were. And they faced backward.
The thought hit her, and instead of sidestepping and attempting to circle around Adrian, only to have to backpedal to avoid a wider horizontal swing, Malicia stepped in. She was punished with the sword drawing a line across her upper arm and shoulder as she matched the thrust with one of the Mantis limbs.
Then she pulled back, dragging it along the crossguard with a grinding noise before a hook caught.
For just a moment, it became a direct challenge of strength to see whether or not Malicia would be able to pull the sword away with one hand as Adrian clenched hold of it with both.
She didn't know his Status... but an A-rank in Strength and a good five years more in age seemed to outweigh it, whatever it was, as his grip lasted for only a couple moments before the sword was torn loose and sent spinning across the ground of the training yard.
Malicia didn't hesitate to raise the other up to poke at Adrian's jaw, even as she caught her breath.
"Incredible." the wide-eyed young Swordsman murmured.
... The click of a tongue drew Malicia's attention to the butler's cool, condescending frown.
Ah. Of course.
She had never been intended to have a chance at winning.
Comments
Benjamin Hower
This is incredibly cool as an origin! The butler is obviously ludicrously fucked up as a person, and I'm torn between wanting to know what his deal is and flat out refusing to exposing my brain to that information for fear of my sanity. I can practically hear little bro in otome-land having his first doki-doki over how "cool" big sis is, completely blind to how fucked this all is. I highly anticipate a sanity break when he's confronted with it later. Malicia, meanwhile, has invented some sort of kama/tonfa hybrid and is discovering a taste for blood and violence that I am sure will in no way continue to affect the narrative. XD. Thanks for writing!
