A peaceful morning. The sun was blazing, the sky a clear blue without a speck of white in sight. Birds chirped in the trees, farmers gathered crops in the fields. Just a regular summer morning—except for one sound. A whistle.
Roland's eyes slowly shifted, his sword swung faster, his small body bulging unnaturally like a rock about to explode. A single thought settled deep inside him, consuming everything—to kill.
Voices cried out around him, filled with panic, but none entered his ears. Slowly, he was losing all ability to think. He only wanted to kill.
"Young sir, please calm down, wake up, SIIIR!"
A second passed—and Roland was no longer standing where he had been.
"Who do you think you're talking to, twerp?"
The voice came from right behind Noah's ear. It wasn't human, though it came from the mouth of a boy not even three years old.
As the words finished, a bright red liquid trickled out of Noah's left ear. Before he could yell, before he could even widen his eyes, a wooden sword struck his neck.
A trained knight—skilled enough to guard a prince—was now flying through the air, sent by the blow of a toddler's body.
"Well, fuck. My sword broke. Possessing a toddler ain't so fun. Wouldn't have broken this toy otherwise," said Roland—or rather, the thing using his body.
"Die, you bastard! Leave my brother's body alone!"
A boy with black hair and sharp brown eyes rushed forward, swinging his sword. Sparks of lightning ran down the blade.
The creature wielding Roland's body smirked. With hardened fingers, it redirected the boy's sword.
"Well, hello there, Loki. Haven't spoken to you since you were five, kiddo. How old are you now?"
"How the hell do you know my name? You must be stealing my brother's memories, aren't you?" Loki growled, sparks dancing brighter down his weapon. "Well, no matter. I swear upon the Ketsra name that I will force you to give Roland his body back."
"This ought to be fun," said 'Roland' almost nonchalantly.
Loki moved first, his sword wrapped in lightning. In a blink, he appeared in front of Roland and brought his blade down.
Roland didn't use his metallic arms to block. Instead, he dodged and threw an uppercut. Loki moved aside, swinging his sword toward Roland's shoulder. Roland couldn't escape in time, but his shoulder hardened just before the strike could sever it. Sparks scattered uselessly across steel-like flesh.
"You know, your brother has some cool skills. It's really fun. Watch this."
He raised his right arm, bent his middle, ring, and pinky fingers, leaving his thumb and index extended.
"Bang."
Time slowed. Loki felt death pressing against his skin. A jagged stone bullet tore through the air toward his left eye. For a heartbeat, he closed his eyes—a blink to an onlooker, but to Loki, an eternity.
When they opened again, golden sparks now danced inside his brown irises.
"Someone's entered their boss phase," the thing sneered through Roland's lips.
"What the hell are you talking about?!" Loki snapped, charging before it could continue.
Roland swung to counter, but Loki released his grip on his sword mid-motion, letting it fly free. Roland's strike missed, his momentum carrying him off-balance.
The sword spun through the air. So did Roland.
Time slowed once more. Loki caught up, grabbed his brother's body mid-flight, and hammered him into the ground.
Normal time returned. Loki knelt over Roland, hand locked tight around his throat.
"Get out of my brother NOW—or I'll electrocute you until you pass out!"
"Fine, fine. You can have him back. I had plenty of fun anyway."
Roland blinked. His golden eyes were his own again. "Where… am I? Loki, I can't… breathe… let go."
"R-Roland? Is that really you?" Loki's voice softened as he released him.
"Yeah, it's me. But… what just happened?"
***
"I see. I must've caused a lot of trouble. Sorry about that, Loki. And… thanks for helping me." he said still laying in the crater created by the battle.
"Don't sweat it," Loki said with a smirk. "Your big brother will always be here."
Noah dropped to one knee, bowing his head. "Young sir, I am deeply sorry. I feel ashamed for the humiliating defeat I suffered before you."
"No, it's not your fault, Noah. That damned thing was at fault for taking over my body." Roland winced, his voice softer. "Still… it used my body too much. Everything hurts."
"Shouldn't your phoenix powers heal you?" Loki asked curiously. "I mean, I don't have them, so I'm not sure how they work."
"I don't really know. My body's never been sore like this before. I'll try channeling mana, though."
Roland closed his eyes, focusing on his mana veins branching through his muscles like tiny roots.
That's strange. My arms already have these roots. Is that why they don't hurt?
"Hey Loki, did that guy use any magic?" Roland asked carefully.
"Yeah, now that you mention it, he made your arms metallic, and even shot a rock from his finger. I'm not even sure if it was magic—I've never seen anything like it."
Damn it. He used my powers in front of so many people. But… wait. Loki doesn't even know what it was?
"Wait, what do you mean you're not sure if it was a spell?"
"Well… he didn't use any incantations. I mean, the rock, maybe. But those metallic arms? Even my sword couldn't cut through them. Never heard of a spell like that. Is it your gift?"
Roland forced a laugh. "No, my gift is something else. But yeah, I guess there isn't anything like that." He tried to change the subject. "Anyway, could you carry me back to my room? I should lie down."
"Yeah, of course," Loki said, his voice brotherly again.
***
Ok. Time to recreate those… mana roots. Or branches. Whatever the hell that thing made in my arms.
Roland sat cross-legged, closing his eyes. He pushed mana forcefully into places it didn't belong.
Pain erupted instantly. Like millions of tiny needles tearing through his flesh from the inside. His throat tightened, a scream clawing to escape, but he swallowed it down.
"Damn it… how did that thing do this in under five minutes? I've been trying for twenty and I haven't even finished one leg…" His voice was ragged. "At least the phoenix healing dulls it a bit… but this isn't fun."
He sat in the butterfly position, hands locked together, squeezing hard. Sweat dripped down his chin, soaking the pillow between his arms and legs. He barely noticed the pain anymore—all he knew was he was seconds away from finishing.
"Almost… there…"
A final surge, then release.
"FINALLY!" Roland shouted, eyes snapping open. His body shuddered with relief.
He winced as sunlight from the window stabbed into his eyes.
"Wait… HOW LONG WAS I TRAINING?"