The Pinnacle Warrior

Over the course of several hours of conversation, it had quickly become apparent that Skandr had nobody he wanted to have come visit while Felix and Benedict figured that asking their family to visit wouldn’t be too bad. Muti, of course, had nobody who lived in the bounds of Humanity’s lands for Greely to bring. After no small amount of trepidation, Astrid decided that she wanted to invite her parents. 

She retained the near certainty that it was impossible for her to expect her parents to show up, if for no other reason than to save herself from heartache when they inevitably were forced to remain on the battlefront. That said, Astrid also wasn’t sure if she thought that that would be better than having to explain to her parents that she was partying with a Barbarian.

Knowing that Greely was due to arrive back on the last day of training with the Golden Fist, Astrid threw herself into training that day in the hopes that it would consume her thoughts. That partially worked, though only because the training to understand the layout of the passages for mana in her legs was much like studying. If she didn’t pay very close attention, she would end up entirely lost instead of learning what she needed to, and she managed to get herself to focus as Leah explained the differences in how to reinforce each leg with the respective physical attributes.

While she kept her eyes closed and spread her awareness into her body, feeling the way that mana naturally flowed, Astrid suddenly felt a strong impression of animosity towards her. Between Muti and now Miriam, she was long since accustomed to staying on her guard at all times and barely opened her eyes as she summoned her shield in the direction of the supposed enemy.

Instead of a sword or fist, the ambush came in the form of a blade of wind. The attack shrieked off of the shield she bore, and Astrid felt her hair whipping around her face as the attack slowly died. A blade of wind? Only after the attack entirely faded did Astrid realize that, until now, she’d never been sneak attacked by something like this. The dread she had been trying to stave off returned in full force, though it was accompanied by an overwhelming sense of relief.

“Mother?“

As Astrid pulled her head out from behind her shield, she met eyes with her mother, just as she’d suspected.

Brighid was fully equipped, her armor looking just the same as the last time they’ve seen each other. Some of the red scaled armor seemed to have been damaged and repaired in the time since last they’d met, but largely, Brighid looked the same, tall, dark skin, healthy, and her bearing proud. Different from the last time they’d seen each other, though, the Spellblade’s face wasn’t nearly so uncomplicated and happy to see her daughter. Instead, though relief and love seemed to fill her bearing and face, there was also an obvious tension in the way that she carried herself. The subject of that caution was obvious, because after locking eyes with Astrid, Brigid turned her attention towards the object of her dislike.

“I was told I should test how far you’ve come, but there’s something more here.”

Muti was far too intelligent to not pick up on the obvious distaste that Brigid was expressing, and in response, she maintained eye contact as she stood tall and walked over to Astrid with cautious steps.

“Now, that’s quite enough,” Brigid spoke with a whip crack of authority, forcing Muti to stop where she stood. “I’m sure my daughter wouldn’t call me back from fighting against Barbarians without telling me that she’s made allies with one of the savages I’ve made a life out of defending my people against. Surely.”

Astrid grimaced, knowing that she had done just that and her mother was more than intelligent enough to know the effect her words were going to have. She’d always known that she needed to say something, but she just… hadn’t. It was painful to think of having that conversation, but now it was accompanied by having to explain her deceit. She’d had so long to say it, and it was time to face the music.

“Hello, Mother,” Astrid said as she walked over to stand between her mother and Muti. That meaning of that movement, though she made it slowly, was obvious. Brighid’s face didn’t change, though she did stiffen ever so slightly as Astrid stood to defend her ally and friend. “Yes, I should have told you. But I didn’t. This is Muti, and we have delved together ever since I went to Kznietch. She’s saved my life many times and I count myself fortunate to consider her a friend and a close ally.”

“So, for years,“ Brigid said, discounting what Astrid hoped would take her mother‘s attention, “you’ve deliberately withheld information from me that you knew I would care to learn.”

Nothing to do but to tell the truth. “Yes.”

“And were your father‘s stories, as edited and censored to keep from giving you nightmares as a child as they were, unbelievable in their cruelty and depiction of what the Barbarians do to the people they have control over? If you need to be reminded, he’s here. He can tell them, and all their very literally gory glory. But,“ Brigid said, glancing behind herself at where Savraba seemed to be fighting to gather his composure, “in an attempt to protect him from further agonies in recollections, I can tell you the stories from the past year.”

“Mother, I—“

“I can tell the story of Isaac,” she spat, cutting Astrid off, “the man under my command who had a wife and two children depending on him. He was killed on the wall by a greedy bastard who couldn’t stay in his country and instead decided to begin a war for no reason other than to get experience. The three Barbarians who killed him laughed as they ripped him to pieces. They joked and threw his arms at me as I came and avenged him. I can recite to you the letter I wrote to his family. I remember every word. His story isn’t unique, it’s commonplace on the grinder that is the wall we have to defend from them. I remember every word of every letter I have to send to the families of the fallen and I can wash you away with the tears shed for the injustices experienced.”

Brighid stalked forward as she spoke, magical power swirling around her as her only barely constrained rage soared out of control. Never had Astrid seen her tightly controlled mother lose control like this, and she could only move on instinct as she raised her shield to hunker behind before this fury.

“Mother! She didn’t do any of that! She’s been with me for years, and she was expelled from the Hordes as soon as she got her Class!”

“Tell me,” Brighid‘s voice dropped as she drew her sword, “honestly. Do you think that this one behind you would have engaged in this war if her Hordemaster was the one who started it? If she was among his subordinates, would he have argued in defense of the innocent?”

Astrid didn’t need to think about what the answer to that would be. She knew what the answer was. But was it any surprise if a warrior in an enemy country would fight in a war if their leader commanded it?

“It’s not that simple, mother. Can war ever be called something that’s unilaterally good? People are slaughtered on both sides.”

“Is defending yourselves from people who would enslave you not a just cause? I don’t want to kill people, but a mad beast that throws itself at people, only seeing them as experience and slaves, isn’t a person. And mad beasts get put down.”

While Astrid couldn’t disagree with the sentiment, she was being forced to confront the dissonance between her experience with Muti, as well as what she knew about the constant war between the Hordes and Humanity.

“Enough,” a soft voice cut through the brief quiet that followed. Savraba stepped forward and patted his wife on the arm as he motioned for her to lower her blade. “We cannot judge people based on where they come from, their race, nor what they might have done in different circumstances. Possibilities being what they may, the reality is that, according to our daughter whom we love and trust, Muti is a friend who has fought at her side, not only as a party member, but as a blood sister. Better than anyone else, I understand your hatred. I have an even better reason to nurse such feelings.”

Then, without saying anything more, Savraba stepped forward and pushed Astrid’s shield to the side. With a thought, she dismissed all of her armor as her papa took her into a firm hug.

“Oh, how I’ve missed you, my light. So strong, probably stronger than me, and still my sweet girl.”

He took Astrid‘s face in his hands and pulled her head down so he could kiss her on both cheeks and then her forehead. Then, tears glimmering at the corners of his eyes, he stepped past her to Muti.

Her father said something in the Barbarian tongue that Astrid didn’t understand before he walked forward and took Muti’s face in his hands and pulled it down to kiss her forehead.

“My daughter says that you have saved her life repeatedly. I owe you any price you demand, for she is a prize greater than any other I have ever laid eye on, much less owned. Whatever you demand, it is yours for however many times over you have preserved her life.”

Something about how he spoke seemed to be an extension of some formality in Barbarian culture, as Muti bowed her own head in turn. “More than a prize, she is a trusted leader and friend, and she has preserved my life much more than I ever have done for her.”

“Then I would ask that you continue to be a sharp blade in her hand,” Savraba finished as he stepped back and placed a hand into Astrid’s. The wonder she felt in the acceptance that he showed was quickly wiped away by something else as she felt his hand shaking from what she could only assume was fear.

Even so, despite the fear at confronting, or maybe even speaking to Muti, whatever the issue was, he then turned to look at his wife. Brighid’s jaw worked for a moment, then she dismissed her weapon and armor as she walked forward.

“As always,” Brighid said with a sigh, “you’re right. I should not miss the treasure when looking at the chest it lays within. Muti,” She spoke as she looked the Barbarian in her eyes. “Despite her other flaws, my daughter is not a liar, and she is loyal to a fault. That you have gained her loyalty despite the existing negativity my daughter carried towards your people that I know existed before your relationship, is a reflection of your own nature. Thank you for protecting my daughter.”

Muti nodded much more slowly at Brighid, keeping her eyes on the Spellblade. Though she was no longer actively threatening anyone, Brigid’s dislike was unhidden. Despite that, Astrid was more than happy to count that as a victory and accepted her mother‘s embrace.

“I have to say,” Brighid said, her face shifting to be much softer as she turned her attention towards Astrid once more, “I didn’t expect you to go and win the whole thing. You’ll have to tell me all about it, all the highs and lows and in betweens since we last saw you. Letters can only tell so much.”

“I doubt you’ll have time for that,” Astrid chuckled as the tension drained from their surroundings. “You’ll have to leave before too long, I’m sure.”

“No,” Brighid answered. “We have as much time as we want since the war’s officially over. Technically, we need to get back to Stalstadt before too long, but there’s no rush. And if we’re late, there’s no penalty worth mentioning.”

The quick and overwhelming shift in tone of the conversation still had Astrid on the back foot, and that discomfort was brought even higher when Leah spoke.

“Are you done practicing?”

Astrid glanced between her mother, who, by her own admission, would be able to be around for a long while yet, and the Arcanite tier woman who was instructing Astrid in how to better use mana. While trying to come up with what sort of answer she could give, Savraba patted her on the shoulder.

“I would listen to the lady with so many enchantments covering her that she glows.“

Leah chuckled as she asked, “You can see all this? I can tell you’re only Iron, so that’s impressive.”

“To be a Talismartist requires an intimate connection with mana,” he answered with a little smile. “I also have a Skill that allows me to see the traces of mana that exist in the world, especially with regards to enchantments and runes.”

Leah nodded slowly. “That’s an exceptionally rare Class. Your daughter is particularly talented with regards to mana manipulation, I would assume that is due to you.”

“Unfortunately,” Savraba laughed as Astrid felt her face heat with shame, “that is entirely natural talent and not to do with my own instruction. She never was one for paying attention to lessons she didn’t care to learn.”

Astrid quickly waved off the attempt at continuing conversation and said, looking at her parents, “If it’s all right with you, I’d like to finish the training for today. You said you have time, and this is the last day that the Golden Fist will be here.”

Her mother nodded as she took Astrid into a strong hug once again, but after a second pause, Astrid could feel the moment when Brighid began to understand what her daughter had said. The Spellblade stiffened, turned, and looked at the people who stood around. The Wanderers had come closer, though none had said anything since Astrid’s argument with her mother had begun, while the Golden Fist seemed as relaxed as ever.

“Of course that’s fine, and like I said, I’m excited to hear every detail that you have to say.” With that said, she turned to the Golden Fist and said, “I’m told that this isn’t the first time you’ve taken care of my daughter. For what it’s worth, please accept my sincerest thanks for your help.”

“She’s a strong delver, and even though she’s been in some tight spots, everything I’ve heard and seen of her has shown that she’ll continue to be superlative for as long as she keeps her head,” Aleksandr answered. 

Astrid’s blush grew deeper before she took both of her parents into strong hugs and they stepped back so she could turn her attention back to Leah. She did her best, but there was only so much that Astrid could do to keep herself focused on the particular channels through which she pushed her mana instead of going to speak with her parents. She knew that their argument was far from over and there wasn’t any true resolution near a hand, but she couldn’t help but want to talk to the two people who loved her most.

When Felix and Benedict’s parents arrived a few short hours later, the training was brought to a forceful close when Felix’s mother misunderstood the spar that was occurring and shouted, “You said you’d stop your fighting!”

With chuckles, the parties pulled away from each other and they all began telling stories and talking. Astrid forced herself to confront her mother again, and walked forward, her heart in her throat.