Exploring Orario

Athena got off of Blake's back. He rose in anticipation, swiftly sliding off the side of her bed, striding towards the mirror hanging on the far side of the room. There he stood silently gazing at the simple design etched carefully on his skin. The crest residing on his back symbolized more than his where his allegiances lie, but like the implied path of the perpetually rising sun above the horizon, the design marked the rising of a new warrior.

Blake's awestruck gaze lingered over the tinges of the wings, his eyes tracing the black outline etched on his back, holding a lofty grin that barely suppressed his excitement. He turned to Athena with gleaming eyes and asked an attempted casual question that she quickly saw past.

"So….now that officially a part of your familia, does that mean I get to go into the dungeon?"

Athena scoffs with a chuckle, looking at Blake with a humored, but questioning gaze.

"Really?! Do you really think you're ready to go into the dungeon? You're level one with no real stats. The dungeon will chew you up and crap you out on the cavern floor." Athena crossed her arms and gave Blake a stern look as a deterrent. Her scare tactic did little to hamper his resolve, retorting.

"Then how am I going to get any exelia!? The dungeon's the best way to level up!"

Blake defiantly held Athena's glare, hoping it would be enough to convince her. It would not be.

Athena sighed, exhaling with annoyance on her breath. She looked at him before saying.

"Exelia isn't going to matter if you're dead. The best thing to do is train now, so you'll be prepared for the dungeon later. Trust me; it's what's best."

She held his unflinching gaze, she could see his earnest commitment to being steadfast shine clearly in his eyes, or in other words, she saw he was stubborn, and no argument could change his mind. She let her arms fall to her side as she nodded to the door, saying with a humoring tone.

"Put your shirt on and meet me in the yard." She walked ahead, knowing Blake would soon be following.

The yard was pretty spacious; the center of the yard held the remnant of a marble pavilion. It was overgrown with flora that was once trapped inside the confines of the garden. Years of neglect presented it with an opportunity to escape and spread to the yard.

The yard became the frontline against the growing battle of plants that encroached on it. Athena maintained the yard much better than the rest of the estate; he didn't know why she didn't display this level of commitment to the rest of the manor, but he shrugged it off and as just laziness. The only aspect Athena wasn't indifferent with was training. In that regard, she was diligent.

The trimmed grass formed a stark border with the overlapping garden, giving an unnatural contrast of intentional symmetry and natural aesthetics that displayed the enduring struggle between nature and man. The tips of the pines rose silently behind the ruins of the pavilion.

The solemn outline of soaring pine trees encircling the property stood mutely against the horizon. The shadows cast by the pines overshadowed the yard and filled it with a feeling of seclusion and was quiet aside from the chirping of birds and breeze flowing through the green needles that danced high above the ground.

The atmosphere was peaceful or ominous, depending on what lingered behind the shroud of trees and in the recesses of the dark forest. Blake walked out of the manor and gazed across the peaceful training yard. Thankfully he thought of it as a haven, a place of refuge. The wound's marring Blake's past would take time to heal, but this place had become his home, and having a home was a start.

He walked down the weathered marble stairs towards Athena, who was standing in the middle of the sparring ring and cocked his head, and shot her an expression of intrigue, asking.

"What are we doing outside?"

She motioned to the rack of equipment placed just outside the dirt ring.

"We're sparring. Grab your equipment and get ready."

Blake looked at Athena with confusion. Sparring had nothing to do with what they were talking about earlier. Still, he complied while asking cautiously.

"Yeah, but why are we sparing? I thought we were talking about whether I can go into the dungeon or not." A nervous grin fluttered on his lips as he ran his hand through his hair. A forming habit that rears when he's anticipating something.

"That's a pretty important discussion we were having."

Athena motioned to the rack once again, refraining from commenting. Blake sighed and walked to the weapons rack, and started equipping his training equipment.

He took off his shirt and slipped on a thicker, black long sleeve t-shirt. He then strapped his black dyed, boiled leather segments on his shoulders, forearms, shins, and chest. He fastened his belt holding his sheaths for daggers.

Blake walked to the practice weapons and picked what Athena had been training him in. He picked up a pair of daggers and slid them into their sheaths on his hips, then reached to pick up the shortsword in front of him. His hand stopped in front of the hilt; Blake hadn't been able to use the swords very well in training. He instead chose a lighter, but just as deadly option.

He picked up a hatchet and strapped it to his back; feeling comfortable with his choices, he stepped into the ring with Athena watching him neutrally. She stood straight and struck the end of her spear in the ground so she could put on her plumed helmet. She explained as she did.

"You want to go into the dungeon so bad? Well, you're going to have to prove yourself. I'll let you go to the dungeon if you can survive for a minute." She fastened her helmet, asking with serious eyes. "Ready?"

He pulled the hatchet from his back and got in a defensive stance he had been practicing for years, nodding once.

Before he could even register, Athena was already in front of him, thrusting her blunt spear at his stomach. Blake desperately dove to the side, barely avoiding her strike.

Athena wasn't treating this like a regular sparring match; she was serious. This thought jolted through his mind, forcing his body to act on its own accord. He jumped up and tried getting back in a defensive stance. Athena attacked before he could fully recover; this forced him on the defensive.

She swiped her spear, catching his feet and causing him to tumble to the ground; before Athena could take advantage of this, he threw his hatchet at her in a last-ditch effort. She had to sidestep it to dodge it; at that moment, Blake sprang up and charged at her, drawing his dagger.

He closed the gap and drove his dagger forward. Athena moved enough to dodge the blade, which passed harmlessly behind her. Athena then grabbed his arm and flipped him over her back. She sent him crashing into the packed-down dirt below; Athena gripped his arm between her legs and pulled it to her chest, choking Blake in the process.

Her thigh crushed his windpipe; he struggled desperately under her grip but found it was a grip of iron. His vision began to swim, and he knew he only had moments before his consciousness became enveloped by a dreamless sleep. With the last precious moments of consciousness he had left, he gripped his dagger's hilt and eased it out of its sheathe with fumbling fingers.

Blake could barely pull it out; his consciousness was fading fast. In a last-ditch effort, he flicked up the handle with a loose grip, sending the dagger spiraling in the air. It only managed a few rotations before succumbing to the influence of gravity. The blade came back down towards Athena. It rotated slowly towards Athena's exposed neck; the movement caught her eye, and she barely managed to dodge, with only a second delay to spare.

A veil of darkness covered Blake's vision as he faded into unconsciousness. Athena quickly let go of the boy and got up, seemingly content with her victory. She looked down where Blake laid and saw something that both impressed and surprised her.

Where her neck was only moments before stood a dagger embedded in the packed dirt, standing erect. She whistled and mentally took note as Blake groggily rose from the ground, lightly touching his neck, where a red ring was already forming. Blake asked with an uncertain but hopeful tone.

"D.Did I ….win?"

Athena couldn't help but crack a smirk as she stuck her and out to help Blake up.

"No, but you lasted than I thought you would." She said with a subdued grin.

He took her hand and looked up at her, slightly excited, asking.

"How long did I last?"

She scrunched her brow as though she was thinking before answering matter-of-factly.

"About 15 seconds, but that's still longer than I thought it would be." She pats his shoulder as if to congratulate him, knowing it wouldn't do much to soften the impact of what the result of the match meant. He couldn't go into the dungeon.

She didn't expect him to stand a chance. She used the match as a way of showing him where his faults lie. She knew Blake was simply not ready for what the world held. Blake tried to ask with words of defeat on his quivering lips.

"Does that mean I can't go in the…." Athena cuts him off, quickly changing the subject.

"Hey, did you mean to throw that dagger like that?"

Blake stowed his tears and looked at her with a cocked head and questioning eyes as he said.

"I mean yeah…. It didn't hit, so I don't know why it matters." Blake exhales, clearly disgruntled with himself.

Athena scratched her head and shrugged, saying.

"Let's try something, grab that dagger and walk to the target area."

Blake complied obediently, plucking the erect blade from the ground and resheathed it. He walked to the shooting location in front of the wicker target and waited in Athena's direction, something born from repetition over the years of being under Athena's authority.

"Ok, pull out the dagger and throw it at the target."

Blake looked at her hesitantly but obeyed nonetheless. He pulled out the dagger and gripped it by its hilt, then threw it at the target. The blade rotated through the air before hitting its mark. The dagger's pommel struck the outer left side of the target, rebounded jarring off the target and into the trimmed grass below. Blake's shoulders sagged in defeat.

Athena retrieved the dagger and began to instruct him instead of criticizing him.

"That was a good amount of force, but your technique is all wrong. Watch."

She stepped where Blake was and gripped the blade of the dagger upside down. The edge facing away from her and the spine of the dagger near the tip was between her thumb and forefinger.

She reared back, the blade parallel with the ground, then threw it. Her arm was extended fully when she released the blade. The knife spun quickly and through the air struck the center of the target, embedding the tip deep in the target.

Blake looked at the embedded knife, then at Athena. He proclaimed with exaggeration.

"That was awesome!!" Athena retrieved the blade, flipping it in the air, the blade landing between her thumb and forefinger. She handed the dagger, handle first, to Blake and said smoothly.

"Just do try that, and I'll help you."

Blake grabbed the handle quickly, eager to attempt Athena's display. He tried to emulate Athena's form, placing it where she had it, then threw the blade. It spun several times, the side landing against the target; a crack sounded after the strike as the dagger fell to the ground. Athena corrected him as he retrieved the blade.

"It takes a bit of practice. It's all in getting the amount of force for the rotation of the blade right. Try again."

Blake stepped up and attempted it again; he threw the knife, and it had a similar result, but he was getting a feel for it.

Several hours pass and Blake has thrown the dagger hundreds of thousands of times, but he has gotten more consistent with each throw. He throws the dagger, landing on the inner edge of the circle. He looks to Athena with a tired expression.

"Ok, there. I hit the target fifty times in a row. Can we eat now?"

Athena tossed the dagger to Blake; he caught it by the hilt and sheathed it. Athena nodded, saying.

"I guess you've earned that much, sure; let's go eat."

Blake followed behind her. His right arm was tired from the constant use, and he was ready to get some food in his system. As they walked towards the mansion, Blake asked.

"So when will I get to go to the dungeon?" Athena cursed silently, hoping the practice was enough to make Blake forget about the dungeon. She answered vaguely.

"Whenever I feel you're ready for it…."

Blake wouldn't take that for an answer; he kept pressing, saying.

"Yeah, I know, but when will that be?"

Athena turned her head to look at Blake as she said.

"Look, you'll become an adult when you're eighteen, so you can make your own decisions then. For now, you'll listen to me, got it?"

Blake nodded obediently, keeping his frustrations inside.

Several more years would pass relatively the same as they had before; only Blake would have his status updated at the end of each day. Blake's training didn't contribute much exelia, but it did give him some stats that he could use as a foundation when he was finally able to enter into the dungeon.

A couple months passed after his 15th birthday would mark the execution of a plan that had been long in the making. Athena would leave the mansion one day out of the month to buy supplies (mainly booze for herself) and check with her informant to see if any rumors were circulating about her.

On one such faithful night, Athena left the mansion and blake, completely alone. He waited a few hours to make sure she was really gone; she would be gone until morning some of these nights, drinking herself into a stupor. Once he was sure she was gone for the perceivable future, Blake grabbed his old supporter bag filled with equipment and his cloak.

He equipped his familiar black-dyed leather armor and his two daggers, along with his hatchet and his bo shurikens. They were nail-like strips of metal with sharp tips. They're also known as throwing spikes and can be pretty deadly given enough training. Athena trained him extensively after his sparring match after receiving her blessing.

He was competent with his throwing ability but trained extensively with every other weapon in the yard's weapon rack. Athena's blessing had granted him greater strength in almost every aspect, and his powers grew significantly because of it. He figured all his training would be enough to survive the first floor of the dungeon. A foolish conclusion.

He gathered all his equipment and silently slipped out of the mansion. He treaded in the shadows lining the weathered and overgrown cobblestone path towards Orario, finding more comfort in the shroud of darkness than the less than ambiguous regular path.

Finding the dungeon would prove to be the easiest of his tasks; the magnificent towering structure rose high above anything else within Orario. The grand building scraped the heavens like a needle poking a cloth, seeming to pierce the night's sky, leaking the rays of starlight through pinholes of its own creation.

The moon was veiled in a cover of mist; even still, the tower was like a radiant beacon calling blake closer, assuring him with each step. As the looming structure grew closer and closer. He reached the treeline and the rusted gate stalwartly guarding the long-neglected path. He stopped at the gate, feeling a lingering feeling of uncertainty. Maybe he shouldn't do this; Athena could be keeping him from the dungeon for a reason. His fingers traced the amber-colored bars as doubt lingered in his chest.

He looked back in the direction of the mansion, which was masked by the towering pine trees covering the area, then he looked to the becoming tower waiting in the distance. Any feelings of doubt and uncertainty were burned away by the fire kindling in his chest.

Adventure, it was the reason he joined Athena's familia. Now adventure was on the horizon; it was within his grasp. All he had to do was reach out and grab it. The gate flung open, screeching in opposition as he sprinted through the empty streets towards Babel.

He ran silently through the empty streets but found they slowly became more filled the closer he got to the tower.

The closer he got to his desired destination, the more energy resonated around him. Voices of people laughing and drinking at bars carried on the midnight air, and the delicious smell of food wafted above the crowds coaxing them to find the source.

The atmosphere was radiant and vibrant; lights lit up the night, yet shadows still danced around every corner and on every wall. New sensations overwhelmed Blake, yet it inspired him more as he gulped down each new sight with an enthusiastic grin, thirsting for more with each unique experience. He wandered through the main street, lost in the crowd of night owls as he explored what this new world had to offer.

He wandered wistfully through the crowds lapping up every sight he could see; he was suddenly struck by a heavy force on his side. The unexpected strike caused him to crash to the ground; he was sent sprawling on the floor and tried to quickly recover. He managed to crawl to his knees as a voice rang out in his direction.

"And down't cowme back naya! Oh, sir awre you ok naya?"

Surprisingly firm yet soft hands gripped blake's arm, pulling him up from the ground to his feet. It took a second to get his bearings; he looked to see who was helping him up after getting them. A girl with twitching brown cat ears sitting atop her brown hair and gleaming brown eyes stared worriedly at him. The brown eyes traced up and down his body, checking for injuries.

"I'm sow sowry miwster, awre you ok?" Blake disorientingly looked at her, then at the ground. A man laid on the floor next to where he was a moment ago; he put two and two together as the woman said.

"I hawd to deal with this wuffian, but I didn't see you thewer." He nodded dumbly as he simply said.

"It's ok. I'm fine." He tried to pull himself from the girl, but she pulled him towards the lively tavern she presumably came from, saying.

"Moma Mia wouldn't like it if I didn't apowalgize pwoperly, it's my bad for not loowking where I was throwing." Blake was still too stunned to put up a resistance, and the catgirl pulled him inside before he could protest.

Several round tables filled with laughing patrons speckled the floor of the tavern, a bar in the center of the room held a hefty woman wearing a smile stood cleaning a glass as she talked to people sitting on the stools. The girl pushed Blake towards the bar, with the woman playfully commenting.

"Looks like Anya pulled in another one; I guess you'd literally be what the cat dragged in." She chuckled with a joking grin. "What can I get you." She asked as Blake was forcefully pushed onto the stool."

"Ah...I don't have any valis on me. I'm sorry."

Mama Mia cut a glare at Anya; she looked down and said with embarrassment.

"I accidentwy threw that twoble maker at him. I'm sowry naya."

Mama Mia shook her head, saying obviously annoyed.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to hit pedestrians with other people. Really, you wouldn't think it's that hard of a rule to follow." Anya sunk a little, her cat ears laying down on her head in shame. Mama Mia chuckled and said.

"It's ok, Anya, just try not to do it again. You might actually kill someone." Anya's ears perked up, and a smile gleamed on her face; she thanked Mama Mia profusely before going off to tend to tables. Mama Mia's attention now shifted to Blake.

"So, what are you doing, kid?" She asked, seemingly intrigued.

Blake answered hesitantly, "I'm...going to the dungeon."

She looked at him with skepticism, saying.

"Not many people go in at night, but I guess night excursions are common enough." She smiled as she placed a large plate of noodles in front of him.

"Fighting in the dungeon is hard work. Best to eat up, kid."