14 The Choosing Ceremony

Ichabod walked into the hall carrying Jack with pride brimming on his face. The Hare's main dining room had been decorated with the finest décor available.

No expense had been spared. The chandeliers had been polished with specifically commissioned alchemical balsams that brought out their magnificent luster and even made the crystals shine like rainbows in a manner that one would see a different colour shining depending on where they stood. Festooned flower-pots with magnificent and exotic samples of flora from faraway lands lined up the walls. Large oak tables with ornate designs of all types were placed neatly surrounding the walls with a complete assortment of the finest products the Hare had on offer.

Sublimely marinated cured meats of all types (venison, duck, and quail), slow-roasted potatoes cooked in delicious alcohols and left to infuse with their flavor overnight, foie-grâs, oil-fried and spiced wild mushrooms, a few sets of boar-ribs which had been prepared over a slow flame for over twelve hours, and succulent vegetables which had been placed under the boar ribs to be drenched in the sweet oils from the meat were all placed neatly in trays where everyone could enjoy themselves to the feast.

A single round table covered with a veritable assortment of items was placed in the middle of the room. The items ranged from swords, knives, and other weapons to scrolls and toys. The tradition was to place Jack in the midst of these items and have him choose one of them and that would represent where his interests would lie in the future.

This tradition held a great level of importance in the hearts of the people and many guests had come to witness Jack's choice, showing Ichabod a great deal of face. As such, many of Ichabod's allies had come with their best wishes; from members of his most trusted circles like Lara and Loren Gaff, to the City Lord of Groamburk.

However, a choosing ceremony could also be a double-edged sword. If the boy made a choice that was deemed dishonorable, Ichabod's enemies would use it to tarnish his reputation beyond repair. Therefore, the two heads of the Calles and Retrona families, Ichabod's greatest rivals, had come with their entourage.

Redris Calles was a man in his early forties, flowing ginger hair and sharp facial features covered with a carefully trimmed beard. He also had the body shape of a bear. Large bulging muscles could be seen under his tightly fit robes. Robes that were too tight for a reason. He was the kind of man so infatuated with his own figure that many a time he'd spend a good deal of his morning routine watching his own reflection. However, his strength matched his narcissism, as he was already in the mid-stage of the Nascent realm, at the peak of the region.

Liam Retrona was completely the polar opposite. He had short black hair and an unkempt moustache. His features were roundish and rather clumsy-looking. He was skinny and dressed like a scholar with thick robes that covered him up and somewhat gave him the appearance of an Eskimo and he suffered from a nigh-unbearable case of severe halitosis which he was quite self-conscious about. Although he wasn't as strong as Redris (Liam being in the early-stage Nascent realm) his mind was full of schemes and machinations. His quick wit and sinister character were his true strong points.

As fate, or irony, would have it, the Retrona family was in charge of weapons and armour manufacturing and commerce whereas the Calles family focused on alchemical development. Both families were bona fide colossus in their respective fields and their expertise couldn't be looked down upon.

Overall, although they weren't exactly friendly with one another and both families had shared decades of rivalry and conflict, Ichabod Hare's appearance in Groamburk had shattered their delicate power-balance and had forced them to enter into an alliance against him. For years, they had been cooperating in joint-ventures and unlawful interferences of Ichabod's business; and for years they'd been on the losing end. Whereas Ichabod's wealth, power, and influence seemed to grow by the day, their own businesses reacted inversely proportional to Ichabod's flourishing.

As the saying goes, two tigers can't coexist on the same mountain; let alone three.

It wasn't a surprise to anyone, then, that they'd come to Jack's choosing ceremony with ill intentions.

"My, oh my, the guest of honour finally arrives, the young Jack Hare." Muttered Redris. "We were beginning to think that something… untoward might have happened."

"Shush, now, good mister Calles, I'm sure Ichabod had good reason to leave his guests waiting; even though it was a bit of an impropriety on his behalf." Continued Liam in tandem. "I'm certain that managing whores takes its toll on the man."

"It only takes its toll on a man that isn't a man." Replied Redris in a mocking tone.

"Let's be honest here, good mister Calles, not everyone can be like us, with ample descendants. Ichabod has only had one son, purportedly, after so long. Maybe he truly does have some sort of… unspeakable impediment. For you to bring it up now can only cause him to lose face." Chastised Liam sardonically whilst placing his hands pompously behind his back.

"Oh, how careless of me, you're right." Exaggeratedly admitted Redris as he placed a hand on his face. "Forgive me, Ichabod, for bringing up such a shameful matter so inauspiciously."

Both these men's statements were met with nasty looks of disapproval, even from those on neutral standing. To come baring such venomous tongues and malicious words to a child's choosing ceremony wasn't only incredibly impolite, it could even mean the start of violent conflict.

In fact, Loren Gaff was so furious that you could see his veins threatening to pop on his forehead. If it weren't for his twin sister holding on to his arm he might have already pounced to strike. Leah, although her expression showed no change, was gripping the hilt of her sword.

Ichabod, however, acted as if he hadn't heard anything. He'd organized this event knowing full well that there was a good chance that those two would come to cause trouble. In addition, his mood was as good as could be given that his son had finally spoken!

But that didn't mean he would take things lying down.

"Gentlemen, there's hardly any need for your jokes, is there?" He said without even looking at them.

"Who said we're joking?" Curtly responded Redris.

"You're joking, of this I'm certain. After all, if I recall correctly, of your six sons, good mister Calles, three of them are regular patrons of my establishment and I'm certain that they are in good health."

"What are you implying?"

"Implying? Good mister Calles, I imply nothing. I'm merely pointing out the fact that their constant activities with my… how did you put it? Ah, yes, courtesans, could bring many surprises if practiced unsafely. Illness, for example, of the worst kind."

"If you so much as lay a finger on my so…"

"And you, good mister Retrona, it's good to see you back at my establishment after so long. Last time, you departed after that rather unfortunate incident. However, I must assure you with complete vehemence that all evidence of that particular affair has been destroyed. I think."

Liam couldn't help but pale at Ichabod's words. Only an idiot would believe the cunning innkeeper. Furthermore, he had no previous knowledge that there was any evidence of that event and he didn't dare risk whether that was a bluff or not. As such, he looked towards his companion and shook his head slightly to indicate that now was not the time to continue with their bickering.

His was a sound decision. Although Ichabod desired to avoid violence erupting if at all possible, he didn't fear it. And they were currently at his establishment. It was well-known that he always had a large number of experts as guards lying in wait and, if worse came to worse, there was a good chance that Liam and Redris would be captured and their entourages killed or crippled. If that happened, no one would blame Ichabod as there were many witnesses to their provocations. The law would stand on Ichabod's side.

Seeing that his words had served their purpose and that his two rivals had finished talking, Ichabod turned to Jack and smiled at him warmly.

"Go on, my child, choose something." He patiently waved across all the objects on the table.

Jack, who had been watching the entire exchange with avid curiosity, had managed to get the gist of things. Although he didn't understand the words spoken, he was dexterous enough at reading body language to infer the meaning behind of what those two men filled with animosity were saying. In addition, he could guess what Ichabod was asking of him; but this left him in a slight predicament.

Clearly, this wasn't a peaceful world and, judging by how the people were dressed and the weapons they carried, death was a common occurrence. After all, he could smell the blood coming from some of the sheathed swords. If he chose a weapon, he would be regarded as a warrior in the future and he would be placed in the crosshairs of Ichabod's opponents. If he chose a scroll, he'd show the makings of a scholar or one well-versed in matters of comprehension, which wouldn't bode well for him either. All that left him were the objects tantamount with him becoming a silkpants in the future.

That being said, he didn't want to choose that option either as it would make Ichabod lose face. Although he had only regained consciousness for half the morning, he was intelligent enough to notice that Ichabod had doted on him and taken care of him without concern for the cost, much as if he were his own child. Jack didn't want that to happen as he wanted to repay Ichabod for his affections.

Which left Jack in a small predicament: he couldn't choose anything.

Thankfully, there was a loophole.

Jack sat and raised his arms, pointing them towards Ichabod and began opening and closing his tiny hands in the universal baby language of wanting something to be brought to them.

For a moment everyone was confused, but after an instant understanding dawned on them. The boy was choosing his father. He was choosing his family. Which meant that, in his life, he would be filial to the extreme.

Ichabod's breathing instantly became heavy and he pulled Jack into his arms and gave him a kiss, as tears welled up in his eyes.

Jack looked up and saw this. He saw this man which was, to all intents and purposes, a complete stranger showering him with all this unconditional love. A love so pure, that it could only come from a father to his son. Jack watched and couldn't help himself, tears came to his eyes.

Yes, a man which could arguably be said to be one of the cosmos' most prolific killers was tearing up. But he couldn't be mocked for this. How many years had it been since he'd seen such unadulterated affection for his persona? He'd spent ten thousand years in the Abyss, either surrounded by never-ending slaughter or by the study of books so old their pages would turn to dust at the slightest forceful turning of their pages.

Why had he been struggling for so long? To escape.

But escape to what? To a real life. A life where he could live to the fullest with his loved ones. Finally, after thousands of years, his heartfelt desires had been met and he could live a life worth living. Not just an unending bloodbath.

At that time, an image that he had long forgotten crossed his mind. The sight of his parents at his home back on Earth; a chubby man with a balding head diligently working at crafting a toy train for his birthday and a beautiful blonde lady cradling him to sleep whilst humming a lullaby and eyes filled with love. Love comparable to what Ichabod was showing.

Their images melded together and Jack swore to himself, in that moment, that he would endeavour to reach the highest point in martial arts to ensure that the same fate would not befall his loved ones in this world. He would not allow it!

In this life, he would live meaningfully!

"So this is the young Jack Hare." At some unknown time, Liam Retrona had come over to look at the child; half out of curiosity, half to confirm whether there was any good fate associated to the child by looking into his eyes. "You must be proud, good mister Hare, to have such a filial son to inherit your name."

Although his words were cordial, his tone was laced with poison.

In the meantime, Jack looked up to observe the man with caution and the instant he spoke the second sentence, a breath of halitosis-infected breath wafted onto his nose. Jesus fucking Christ that's unbearable! He thought to himself. It was as if the funk of a thousand corpses rotting in a mosh pit for a hundred years had suddenly been unleashed on his face.

It was truly one of the foulest stenches he had felt, and it was pushed onto him from a very short distance and without him expecting it in the slightest.

Instantly, Jack screeched as a complaint, pointed at the man's mouth and exclaimed the first thing that came to his mind.

"Orc's penis!"