Chapter 112: Family Chat

Chapter 112: Family Chat

The ring of mana rotated slowly and silently. From a cursory glance, the area beyond the hole in reality stretched into an opulent sitting room. A tall set of windows lined with white and red silks let in the ever dying light of the golden sun. A pristine courtyard glowed through the window, every trimmed bush and elder tree tinged with a deep shade of yellow.

A smell drifted through the portal, one of cooked ham and roast duck. Back in the rustic inn the boys stood, Jude’s stomach growled.

“Leals... as much as I want to talk to your parents, it smells like they are eating dinner... And well...”

Leland waved Jude off, “You and Glenny go, I’ll catch up.”

Jude didn’t hesitate at the command and pushed the rogue through the door. Leland internally laughed at that, but soon his focus returned to the stationary portal.

He circled the mana construct, finding different views of the same room. Light gray stone walls paired with the white and red upholstery told the story of the capital, specifically the Queen’s castle.

Of coursethey are with the Queen, Leland found himself thinking. They are her favorites...

He couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous. While the inn he was staying in wasn’t the best, the castle’s lush tapestries and overindulgent meals were something he could only truly appreciate with imagination. He had apparently been to the castle before, but his young age at the time left little room for memories.

Although he did have a faint memory of when he and the youngest princess ventured into the royal fountain after tricking whatever poor soul was supposed to be watching them. But he had heard his parents repeat the tale to anyone willing to listen so many times he wasn’t sure which of his memories were influenced by their exaggerations. He felt sure that he didn’t make a promise of marriage to the princess when he was being dragged back into the castle soaking wet.

That just didn’t sound like him.

Leland shook out the thought. He didn’t have the luxury to sit idle and think of the past. A portal was open and his parents were nowhere to be seen. Which was weird...

“Hello?” he called out again, this time a bit louder.

A dull thud sounded from through the portal, past the elegantly carved coffee table, and from the other side of a door. Like a guard kicking in the door to a criminal’s home, the wall suddenly opened and two familiar forms came crashing through.

“You’ve got to tell me if you open a portal! How many minutes has it been? How much mana have you lost!?”

Leland’s face split, a long smile forming at the sight of his mom. She continued in and soon his dad was front and center.

“I told you I was opening it, but you had to reread his letter—” His dad cut himself off. “Leland! How long have you been standing there?”

Through the portal no larger than a dinner plate, the family stared at each other despite having to shift awkwardly to look through at the right perspective.

“Since it opened,” Leland responded with a bit of mirth.

His parents gave each other flat looks. But after a moment, a smile tugged against both of their faces. His dad gestured to the couch, where his mom took the initiative to sit. A moment later, the family was eye level with one another despite being what felt like worlds apart.

“Hello sugar,” his mom, Lucia, said, her eyes tender like a hen watching her chick return to the coop.

“You look tired,” his dad, Spencer, said. “Have you been living on jerky and stew? You need some bread! Eat some bread!”

Leland forced himself not to tear up. The moment he did, he knew they would as well. “It’s good to see you both,” he said. “And I was about to eat dinner at this restaurant across the street, but a portal suddenly opened.”

His dad nodded along to that. “We were eating when we got your letter. Your mother said to open a portal, and I did—”

“I meant after I finished reading the letter!” She glared at him. “Seriously, how much mana have you already used?”

“Eh, like a fifth.”

“A fifth! That’s like—”

“A fifth of the time we can all talk, yeah. We’ve got to get through things quickly, I can already feel my eyes twitch.”

Leland frowned at that. “Eyes twitch?”

Spencer leaned forward, scooting to the edge of the couch. With a bit of bravado, he said, “I’ve been forced to keep my mana-vision on at all times lately. Don’t want enemies to portal themselves into the castle or anything.”

“Is the Queen under attack a lot?”

“When is she not!” Spencer laughed. “It’s like—”

“Dear,” Lucia said, devoid of emotion. She placed her palm on her husband’s knee, slowly. “This is not the time.”

His dad went silent, the warning quite clear.

The snip opened Leland’s eyes to how his parents actually looked. There was a certain resistance to seeing close family for what they were, but once the resistance was clear and gone, everything was apparent. Behind every friendly smile, every warming hug, every bickering conversation, there were humans. Humans with high stress jobs.

His parents were tired. Age and responsibility had caught up, along with constant worry. His dad’s hair was already starting to gray, his mom’s cheeks starting to go flabby. The pair had enough bags under their eyes to line a war trench, and neither looked like they had properly seen the sun in weeks.

“Are you guys okay?” Leland asked. “You seem... worn out.”

“Oh we are, sugar,” his mom answered. “But we have a vacation coming up. You got our birthday card about us all meeting up in a few months, right?”

“Yeah, we are heading that way. Slowly, might I add. It’s been a big hectic lately.”

Spencer then said, “I’d love to hear all about it. But my mana is limited. So we need to keep it short. Let’s start with what is actually bothering you, the part that you didn’t want to write in your letter.”

Leland’s knee bounced with fervent jitters but he was able to force the words out. “I think I’m a Harbinger. I take that back, I know I’m a Harbinger... but with a good Lord?”

He had finally said it. The source of his nightmares and the vortex of his thoughts. He was a Harbinger, after all the Lord of Curses called herself a sort-of vile Lord. Whether it was on a technicality between Lordly entities or not, the title had long been branded. Honestly, Leland felt a bit brighter for saying such a thing. His parents, however, did not share his internal relief.

The deep bags under their eyes suddenly seemed to double, highlighting the sharpness in their gaze. The pair glanced at one another, his dad then removing a small bronze device from his pocket.

“No one heard,” he muttered, getting a sigh of relief from his wife.

“You were tricked into accepting a vile Lord as your Legacy?” Lucia finally said.

“No,” Leland said instantly, then his hard face cracked and he deflated. “Maybe. I don’t know. She made a good point that all Lords give their followers the power to kill in horrible ways. Like the Lord of Flame burning people alive...”

“And that was enough for you to accept a sketchy Lord?”

“No... She brought up that her Legacy would enable my own path through life. Not one in your... shadow.”

“Oh sugar,” his mom cried.

“Leland, what Lord did you accept?”

“Curses.”

“And if I want, I can consume them and get a healing boon and a magical potency boon. This way the soul is reincarnated.”

“’Consume?’” his mother asked.

“Or I can ignite them, destroying them forever in the process, and use them as a weapon.”

“’Ignite?’”

“It’s called Soul Fire.”

His mother recoiled at the name. “The Calamity?” she muttered.

“Calamity? That’s what the other Lords, and a Legacy of Witches, call me. How do you know it?”

“M-my grandmother’s stories. She spoke of a Lord so powerful that they were able to, single handedly, kill nearly all other Lords.”

Leland nodded solemnly at that. “That’d be the Lord of Curses. She told me the whole story already.”

“The Calamity is a hero of humanity?” Lucia blinked a few times, her vision going blurry.

For a moment her eyes reflected incorrect pictures of her surroundings. The pictures changed with haste, shifting back years as she reread through her memories. Eventually she lurched forward, blinking away watery eyes.

“I’m always jealous I wasn’t able to learn that cantrip,” Spencer said.

That got Leland’s attention. “What cantrip?”

“Memory Recall. It’s rather difficult. Maybe mom can teach you—”

“Shut up for a moment,” his wife cursed. “I-I’m trying to...” Her voice trailed off.

“Sometimes the older memories need a little glue, so to speak. Just give her a second, I’ve got enough mana for a few more minutes.” His dad didn’t waste the moment, however. “But seriously, are you eating more than jerky and stew? You need bread. Bread is the best food for an adventurer.”

“I’m eating bread whenever I can. Kind of hard to find bakeries up in the mountains.”

“Mountain bakeries are the best, though.”

“I might agree with you, although Sally’s back home is pretty great.”

His dad grunted with greed. “Sally’s is the best. Hands down. Those apple fritters—”

“Got it!”

“Oh good,” Leland’s dad said.

His mom blinked a few more times. “My grandmother’s story was about a savior of humanity. ‘The Lord who protected all, the Calamity for the vile Lords.’”

“Well there you have it,” Spencer said.

Leland grit his teeth. “But I don’t want to destroy souls, even if they are enemies.”

“Then don’t.”

“But then I won’t ever rank up.”

“Then do?”

“You’re not helping, dad.”

“Look, son, you are going to have to decide. Where do you want to set your feet and make a choice for yourself? Resolve doesn’t come from others, it is something you and you alone can create.”

“What your father is trying to say is that it doesn’t have to be black or white. You don’t want to use the curse but you want to progress. So then only use the curse on souls you don’t mind destroying.”

“But I don’t want to destroy any. That’s like torture or something,” Leland retorted.

“Maybe for those living a single guilty life. But what about the Harbingers that have been reincarnated dozens of times into new bodies only to simply join back up with their vile Lords. Evil is a slippery slope.”

“That’s a thing?”

His dad gave a shrug. “Maybe, maybe not. Look, Leland, we are both hardened adventurers and well-seasoned Inquisitors. We’ve seen things, horrible things. A soul for a hard stick to whack a vile Lord with? I’d make that choice.”

“Although not elegant, I agree with your father,” Lucia said. “As long as the Lord of Souls doesn’t send his Legacies to hunt you down, sometimes you’ve got to be pragmatic. A soul for the lives of millions of innocent people.”

“But it’s a soul,” Leland said plainly.

“Exactly. It’s a soul. It has no feeling, no personality. Not yet at least. When it’s reincarnated into a person, it will. But as a soul it’s nothing more than potential. I trust you, Leland, to weigh the potential as good or evil and make the correct decision.”

Leland nodded at that. “That’s vaguely what Jude, Glenny, and the Lord of Curses said.”

“Your friends are smart. And if everything is to be believed, so is the Lord of Curses.” Spencer said, a vein pulsing across his temple. “Look I can’t keep the portal open any longer. Remember that your mom and I love you and whatever decision you make we will supp—”

The portal snapped close.

Leland blinked a few times at the far edge of the room. He wished he could have talked longer with them but in the end he felt closer to the right path. That was all he could really wish for, right?

He took a few minutes for himself, collecting and organizing his rapid thoughts. Maybe things were going to be okay. His parents, friends, and Lord all thought so. He smiled at that, glad to have those who love him so close.

As he was gearing up to leave, a knock sounded from the door. Already on the way out, Leland shrugged and hopped to his feet. He opened the door, finding an old man he didn’t recognize.

“I think you have the wrong room—”

Cold jutted into Leland’s gut as warm washed out. He grunted, the skin on the bridge of his nose scrunching like a walnut.

“What—”

Leland looked down, tracing the old man’s arm to the hilt of a knife and from the knife into a bloody mess of fabric and skin.

Slowly his posture hardened and fear took hold. Leland locked eyes with the old man, finding them dead, hollow, and fake. A silent scream eclipsed his throat as his grimoire appeared beside him.