The heavy, ornate iron gates of House Dukker swung open with a slow, grinding groan, revealing the world outside for the first time in Elias's memory. The change was immediate and overwhelming. Where the manor grounds were a study in manicured precision and quiet order, the city of Blackhaven was a chaotic masterpiece of life.
Roric led the way, moving with a confident, easy stride like a man completely at home in the hustle and bustle. Aina and Elias walked a step behind him, a small island of quiet in the bustling sea of people. The air, which had always smelled of flowers and beeswax within the manor, was now a vibrant mixture of spices, baking bread, and the smoky aroma of a distant forge.
Everywhere Elias looked, there was a new sight. The grand city walls, made of the same dark stone as the Dukker manor, stretched up to meet the sky. The buildings were a jumble of weathered stone foundations and vibrant wooden facades, some with brightly painted shutters and others draped in colourful tapestries. The narrow cobblestone streets were a river of humanity, filled with merchants shouting about their wares, children chasing a stray dog, and artisans hunched over their work in open-fronted shops. The symphony of the city—a chorus of a thousand different voices, the clang of a blacksmith's hammer, the jingle of a coin purse, and the rhythmic footfalls of countless passersby—was a shock to his system.
As they walked, Elias noticed something else. Several people would greet Roric with a respectful nod or a murmured word, but their eyes would always linger on him and Aina. Elias saw the whispers, the curious glances. It was as if they were seeing two characters from a storybook come to life. Aina, noticing the attention, subtly drew a little closer to Elias, her hand hovering near his. It was a small, silent gesture, but one that spoke volumes about her fierce, protective nature.
Once they had navigated their way out of the densest part of the market, Roric turned to them, his voice cutting through the remaining noise with a conversational ease.
"Right then," he began, "we've got a good few hours before noon. Plenty of time to get to the forest and back. But it occurs to me, I've never asked, what's your Trait, Elias?"
"He doesn't have one," Aina answered.
Roric, thinking this was a joke, simply chuckled.
"Ah, come on, you two. Don't be silly. I've already deduced that Aina here has 'The Star', along with another trait I've yet to pin down. It's important for your training, so no need for secrets."
He saw the stubbornness on Aina's face and the confusion on Elias's, and his expression turned serious.
"Look, keeping a trait a secret can be a useful tactic in certain conditions, but it will always be found out eventually. Either the moment you use your abilities, or by studying your personality. A master Flow user can even perceive the circulation of Flow or Anti-Flow through your body with 'Flow Perception'." He paused and looked directly at Elias.
"So, do you truly have no trait?"
Elias simply shook his head, a truthful but slightly embarrassed answer.
Roric's face took on a contemplative look, and he slowed his pace. They walked past a grand fountain, where children were playing, splashing each other.
"Something about your grandfather was truly strange," he murmured.
"To produce two generations of deviants..."
Aina bristled, her eyes narrowing in a fierce glare.
"Don't call him that!" she snapped, stepping slightly in front of Elias.
Roric stopped and gently patted her on the head, a fond smile on his face. "Calm down, little Star. I didn't mean anything bad by it. I mean 'deviant' in a different sense. You see, your father, Alaric didn't even awaken his Flow until he was a teenager. That's well past the normal age."
He continued walking, and the children by the fountain faded behind them. Roric explained that in the world of Flow, a normal human, without any awakened abilities, was called a mundane.
"It would have been difficult for Al," Roric said, "to progress both in Swordsmanship and in Ascension without Flow. But he didn't let that stop him. He used all the negativity, all the people calling him slow and unremarkable, to fuel his strength. It was during that time that he created the first form of his own sword style, even without being a master. A technique so versatile it was the perfect counter almost anything."
Elias's eyes widened with a mix of awe and curiosity.
"What's it called?" he asked, his voice full of genuine fascination.
Roric looked puzzled.
"Didn't he ever tell you? Well, it's called 'The Still Blade Style'."
They walked past a smithy where the rhythmic clang of a hammer on an anvil echoed the pace of their footsteps. Elias's mind immediately flashed back to the day before, to his father's mysterious move that had disarmed Sir Eddie and given him the win. He now wondered if that was a form of his father's own secret technique.
"That's not the only reason he's called 'The Still'," Roric continued.
"For a variety of reasons, actually. First, it started as a derogatory tag for not awakening his Flow. He was 'still' in that sense. Then, people saw his kind and seemingly unaggressive nature, which goes against what most nobles and rulers are like, so they called him 'still' for that reason as well. Now, it refers to his love for his wife and you ,Elias. He's as steadfast and immovable as a mountain in that regard. Even in politics, his neutrality in administering the nation... well, you're young, you won't understand that quite yet."
This last remark prompted a sharp glare from Aina and a shared look of annoyance from both children.
Roric just chuckled.
"Hmm, kids these days don't like being called kids huh? Even Jamie gets annoyed with me when I mention it."
"Jamie?" Aina repeated, intrigued.
"My daughter," Roric clarified, a loving smile on his face. This prompted Elias to look down at the silver ring on his own pinky, an object he'd received from her as a birthday gift. Aina noticed his attention to the ring and a small frown formed on her face.
Roric continued, "But 'Still' in the context of this discussion refers to the technique that Al himself created, The Still Blade Style. He's the only known practitioner in all the land of Aerthos even though its existence is known along with his legend. Several prospective disciples have come over to learn, but he's turned them all down. He would use the Stellar Aegis Style in accordance with his Trait class, but he'll deviate from that technique and flow into his own if he feels like it. The thing is, he rarely fights. So if you ever witness him in a fight, you should pray that the other guy survives."
Aina scoffed, clearly unconvinced and believing that Roric was simply praising his friend. Elias, on the other hand, was now utterly fascinated and wanted to know more about his parents and Roric as well.
Roric shrugged at Aina's remark.
"Regardless of what you think, the fact remains. And since you, Elias, have no trait, Al will teach you the Still Blade Style. That's the only thing you can progress with for now."
Elias had a moment of profound clarity. This was why his father had him do basic sword swings and strokes, while Aina was being taught the first form of the Stellar Aegis Style.
As they exited the city and headed towards the verdant forest, Roric's mind drifted. Elias's lack of a Trait was...strange. And now that he considered it, the boy also had no concrete personality. He was curious, humble, and polite, but these were general attributes anyone could have. They didn't really count as a definitive personality.
He knew that Alaric and Elara may have brushed it off as him being too young but that was a common misconception. Roric knew that this was the stage where a child should showcase their unrestrained personality and then suppress their emotions as they grew older and learned self-control. So either there was some kind of defect with the kid, or he was intentionally hiding something. Both were improbable. Elara would have sensed if there was something wrong due to her own Trait, and the kid had no reason to hide anything.
Or did he?
Roric shook his head. The fact remained that the boy had no Trait. But it would surely manifest and the truth would come out, whether he was hiding it or not.
Roric smirked to himself, his mind already looking forward to see how far the "Son of the Still" would go.