His father and the other mages were preparing to head out while August still couldn't believe what he had heard.
While he never questioned his own competency, the truth was that he still had a long way to go.
That's why he was confused over his father's decision to let him participate in the battle.
"Are you feeling nervous?" His father asked, having approached while he was lost in thought.
August shook his head and straightened out his posture, "No …no dad. I am alright."
His father smiled at him, obviously sensing the awkwardness in his expressions, "Don't worry son, you will do just fine. I trust you."
As the emotions were raging in his heart, August asked his father, "say, dad—do you think I am ready?"
"No, son…" his father startled him for a moment. "...there's no such thing as ready. Soldiers grow on the battlefield …or they die. There's no in between, there are no choices."
His voice grew somber as he spoke, "believe me I would keep you rather safe somewhere than letting the enemy threaten your life …but we both know sooner or later you have to face that enemy, that is inevitable …you understand that, right?"
August nodded slowly. Of course, he knew which enemy his father was really talking about.
It wasn't the soldiers of the Monarch; he was more than capable of handling them himself—but rather a very unique enemy who only targeted August.
Considering his history with that enemy, August has to face it sooner or later. He had to be able to stand upright, it was either that or die.
Because more than anyone else he knew that echoes won't be satisfied by small trails of blood from his ears.
They were the wills of elements—wills that yearned to return to sentience. And they won't be satisfied until they erase the fiber of his very being from his mind.
And turn him into a senseless, mindless vessel.
His father looked at him, deeply in thoughts,
"You know, you don't have to worry that much either. You won't be hurt since I am here. And there is no telling if Monarch really will send reinforcements, which means you don't even have to step out into the battlefield at all—or you can also refuse if you don't feel like it."
His father glanced at the mages who were done preparing, and smiled turning back to him—
"In any case, you won't be harmed. For that I am sure of."
Of course he knew that already. The protection his father was speaking about was obviously the beautiful soul creature who accompanied him everywhere. In fact, she was protecting him right now—by the echoes that is.
But he couldn't possibly reveal to his father that he knew about Lady mist already. That could cause trouble for his hidden protector.
"But dad?" he looked at the wooden sword that hung down from his waist. "Will I be fighting with this thing? What am I supposed to do, poke the enemy to death?"
His father let out a chuckle, "No, of course not." He then gestured to mage Arden, and the mage handed a shining sword to August.
It was a thin slightly bent, single edged blade with a comfortable hilt. August's eyes shone with light as he held the shining blade.
"It's custom made to suit your style," his father briefed.
That was indeed true, he had expected the weapon to weigh heavy considering its metallic shine but it was surprisingly comfortable.
Even lighter than the wooden sword he practiced with.
August was lost in the beauty of the sword when his father summoned his own weapon before him.
The crimson glow surged as a red blade appeared in his hand. The sight was awe inspiring as always. With that he turned to August,
"Do you know the name of this sword, son?"
August couldn't look away from the enchanting weapon for a moment. After a second he shook his head and replied,
"The Rose of Ruin."
"Indeed," his father smiled. "And you know why it is called that?"
He didn't wait for the response but continued,
"Because this blade was forged only to bring down ruin and calamity. It was meant to kill."
August listened carefully as his father's words continued to give him chills.
'A weapon meant to kill'
While the reason was obvious, it wasn't as simple as it seemed. Weapons like this father's sword weren't just simple tools but rather spelled to be driven with the purpose.
Only the worthy could hope to use a weapon like that.
"It is not only a weapon," his father continued. "It's a responsibility. Unlike your training sword, the blade you now hold bears the burden of your own responsibility. And you have to be careful of using it against anyone. One wrong move and you could hurt yourself and worse ….your loved ones."
His father's expressions were serious, as August was taking his words to the heart,
"Sometimes you will have the unnatural desire to do something you won't normally do, that time it will be your weapon driving you mad so be careful of that too."
He looked at the red blade of his own sword,
"This blade has tried many times to make me lose my sanity, to turn me into a mindless killer and fulfill its own selfish desire to bring down ruin on every one. I tried many times and only after that I became worthy of resisting its will."
Two corners of his lips curled upwards in a smile,
"It tried to use me but I forced my own will onto it. Turning a weapon which was forged for destruction into a guiding blade which knows nothing but protection. Now, after so many years it has become a part of me, it answers to my will and does what I told it to do."
He then looked at August with a confident expression,
"I don't intend to preach to you about responsibility but it is only important for you to know about the burden you have taken on yourself by holding this blade."
At last he just winked at August, and said something that immediately lifted the weight of the atmosphere that he had built himself,
"Just don't swing it recklessly or your mother will kill me, alright?"
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