A pure white ceiling. That was the first thing John could see upon waking. It took his mind a moment to process that he was somewhere different but the second he did, he shot upward.
Covers flew off his body and his eyes darted all around him. He was in a room, one that he recognized to be where he and Ashur stayed the night prior. John was currently lying on a bed, and he soon noticed he had bandages all over his body.
The wrappings went from his arm to his chest at the very least, not to mention his legs or back. Before he could analyze his condition much further though, he noticed a patch of green to his left. He glanced over, seeing Sherryl, sitting in a chair beside his bed, with her face planted on the covers.
Besides his initial surprise at her being there, he held back a snort as he spotted a bit of drool spilling from her mouth.
"Glad to see you awake you big dummy."
John's lips curled into a slight grin. "I'm glad to see you too, Annerose." Instinctively, he glanced upward toward the ceiling to see the steel-spirit.
Even though her bravado and pride wouldn't allow for her to admit it, he could tell she had been crying from her nose which was red. She slowly floated downward until she was even with him, staying silent without a word.
"...I'm sorry." John said. "I assume I lost? I don't remember anything after that final clash."
"Yeah…"
"I just… wanted him to apologize. I realize now that it might not have been my place and all, but I just couldn't stand it."
A tear started to well up in Annerose' eye but she quickly wiped it, turning away from him.
"I appreciate it… Also, I'm sorry as well. If I hadn't run in the first place, you might not have thought you needed to take such drastic measures to get me back."
"It's fine. In all honesty me and Marion might've fought either way. Something about him just irks me." A sour look was on his face as he spoke. He thought of each encounter the two had and how it constantly started and ended unpleasant. "Even through that, he's really strong. I can admit that much."
Annerose nodded in agreement. "It feels like yesterday when he was first born and Marigold introduced me to him. He was so tiny and now… He's his own man with his own goals in life."
"You sound like an old lady." John said cheekily.
"Hey, watch it!" Annerose swatted her hand, however a smile was on her face.
"John!?" The voice of a surprised Sherryl snatched his attention from Annerose. Her eyes were wide, drool was still on her lip.
"Yeah." He replied, trying his best to hold in a snort at her.
"You're awake? ….Oh, you're awake! Hold on, I'll get someone!" Then, before John could muster any words back, she rushed out of the room. Now, it was just him and Annerose, master and spirit.
"So, Annerose. If you don't mind… would you tell me about your past contractors?"
She let out a sigh, slowly floating until she rested on the bed. "It's not the greatest story." She paused for a moment, her eyes shut tightly.
"That's fine. I'm willing to listen anyway."
"How kind of you." She said sarcastically.
"Indeed." He replied with a self-assured nod.
"Well… I used to be a lesser spirit. I don't know for how long exactly, as you don't have an identity yet or proper consciousness. However, my earliest memory is the sound of welding. The repetitive smacking of a hammer onto hot metal. Over and over and over. The first thing I remember seeing was a sword. While the first clan head, Astrea, during his time eliminated all enemies to his clan, a few generations later, knew groups emerged on the plains. They were running amok, wanting to take everything for themselves, so naturally, war was a given. I would sit in the blacksmith's shop, just watching him craft weapon after weapon, after weapon…." Suddenly Annerose's voice trailed off. Leaving silence to fill the gaps which otherwise would have held her own voice. John so far had been quiet and attentive as a mouse. Wanting to hang onto every word she spoke.
Suddenly, she floated upward toward him. "Actually, I don't feel like talking everything through, so instead, I'll do this." Without much of a warning, Annerose placed her tiny hand onto John's forehead.
A bright light shone out and his surroundings changed. Instead of a somewhat modern bedroom, he was now in what could only be described as a blacksmith's shop. He recognized this instantly by the many tools and hammers as well as the smithing table. He watched, as a small figure of light flew into view. It was Annerose, before she gained a natural affinity. At this point, she was just a lesser spirit.
For John, who was watching the scene play out, he felt drawn in. It was hard to explain. It was as if he had become a force of some kind, a transcendent being as he watched everything play out. His presence was unknown to Annerose, as well as the blacksmith, who toiled away at crafting his weapons.
Annerose, who barely had a sentience due to her infancy, was enamored with the art of weapon and tool crafting. The rise and fall of the sun repeated multiple times, the single constant between the many days was Annerose, as she always appeared in the man's shop.
Due to her infancy, she couldn't accurately say how much time had passed but she started to notice a second presence in the shop besides her and the Blacksmith. At some point, a human girl started to appear in the blacksmith's shop. She, like Annerose, would always watch the man forge weapon after weapon. The girl's bright pink hair was unique and distinguishable. You would be able to spot her from a mile away.
"Hey, Papa. When are you going to let me help you with work?" The little girl asked, her eyes full of anticipation as she gazed at the blacksmith.
He turned to her, taking a brief break from his work. His massive hand fell onto her head gently, a warm smile was on his face.
"Marium, it's far too dangerous work for you. Especially gathering ore, it's right on the edge of our territory. Why don't you play with the other village girls instead?"
Releasing a frustrated huff, Marium swiped the blacksmith's hand away.
"No! I don't wanna. They always wanna play dress up, or dolls, or play house… It's stupid! Weapon crafting is way cooler!"
Her father let out a sigh, a strained smile on his face.
"Come on sweety, I can't let you. Anyways, I have to get back to work. Why don't you find your mother?"
After giving his suggestion, he turned right back to his smithing table. The metallic plink of the hammer against hot metal resumed once more.
Stomaching her frustration, Marium obeyed, waking outside to find her mother. The entire time, Annerose had been watching. Back then, she found herself sympathizing with the young girl. She, like herself, was captivated by the art of blacksmithing, however she was permitted from participating. There would be many weeks when Marium would return, persistent in asking to assist her father; however each time, she would be turned away.
"Hey, Marx. Why don't you let her come with you?"
Hearing his wife's words, the man released a sigh. Placing his hammer down, he turned to look at her. "Simple. It's too dangerous."
Three years later, when Marium was 13, her father, Marx, went to gather ore for a new batch of weapons. The war amongst the rival groups was reaching its boiling point. Vatur, the current head was leading their forces valiantly, but it still wasn't enough. The different clans were at a deadlock, playing a perpetual push and pull game.
That day, when Marx left to gather ore, Marium followed. A mischievous smirk was on her face as she trailed the man. She slowly and patiently hopped from bush to bush, being trackless like a ghost. The only one to notice she was following the man was Annerose, who was trailing behind the young girl. Annerose, who had been a mere light figure, was fully formed. She had a physical body now, of course it was tiny but it was a body nonetheless.
Not long after Marx's departure, the cave filled with ore was in view. It was deep within a forest, being a couple more minutes walk from the local mountain. Over it, there would be several opposing clans and bandit tribes, making this location very dangerous.
In all honesty, he shouldn't have gone alone, however, due to the front lines of the conflict being so intense, no one could be spared to play bodyguard. The remaining warriors were posted in the two villages, being a last line of defense in case of enemies slipping through.
With a slight pit in his stomach, Marx gripped his tools tighter. With every step closer to the cave he grew increasingly nervous, however, he had to push on. He thought about his daughter and wife. Their smiling faces… If he didn't retrieve more ore, and subsequently create more weapons, there was a chance their forces would be overwhelmed due to a lack of them. It was a necessary risk.
Unfortunately for him, there were individuals already inside the cave. He hadn't noticed until he'd made it to the entrance. They were all men, having bright red bandanas on their foreheads. He recognized them to be members of the Bandit Tribe over the mountains.
"Hey, you!" One of the men shouted, noticing him.
Marx froze, his eyes darting to each of the four men. They were fully grown adults, with blades in hand. What was he supposed to do in this situation? Fight? Run?
Before he could say or do anything in response, he felt someone tug at the back of his shirt from behind. In horror, he glanced back, seeing his daughter, Marium. She was smiling at him, ear to ear.
"Ha, daddy! You didn't notice me."
"M-Marium!? What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to help you! Wait, who are these guys?" Marium asked as she pointed at the bandits, as if just realizing they were there. Marx slowly turned to face the men, his hand protectively in front of Marium.
"Listen… Please. Just let us leave, there's no need for violence."
One of the men stepped forward, a maniacal glint in his eye. "You brought your kid? Ha, that's irresponsible. Because of your awful parenting your little girl is gonna go through something pretty terrible."
Hearing those words combined with the men slowly approaching, Marx let out a battle cry. He pushed Marium back. "Run!" He said, charging forward with a fury. He raised his pickaxe, swinging it widely.
The bandits chuckled as they casually sidestepped the attacks. Then, one of them poked into his shoulder with the edge of their blade. Blood gushed from the wound.
"Daddy no!" Marium yelled, rushing forward in panic. Before she could reach him, she was kicked in the stomach. A grunt of pain escaped her lips as she was sent flying back. She landed heavily, rolling across the field.
"You be quiet okay? We'll play with you later." One of the men said, licking his lips.
Marium huffed, struggling to stand back up. Her eyes were wide in horror as she watched her father continue to swing his pickaxe, tears in his eyes as his futile actions. They were experienced, not the greatest of fighter's but skilled enough to dodge the attacks of a novice like himself,
A sickening feeling washed over Annerose. She'd never witnessed violence before. She couldn't explain how, but everytime she saw the blacksmith get cut, her chest hurt. It wasn't like she felt his pain, she could just sense his emotions. Fear and sadness at this situation which was impossible to overcome. She wanted to help, but how could she?
…..Oh. She had an idea. If it was instinct or a spur of ingenuity Annerose flew over to Marium.
"Hey." As she spoke, the two of them were face to face. For some reason, the little girl didn't acknowledge her though. Her gaze remained on her father, further ahead as if she couldn't see the spirit. Annerose released a frustrated huff. "Hey! Don't you wanna save your father?" Still, no response.
Reaching the peak of her patience, she swung her tiny hand, smacking the girl's face.
"Ow." Marium winced. Her eyes, searching for the cause of her pain, stopped, finally falling on Annerose. "W-who are you?" She asked, confusion rising in her voice.
"That's not important right now. The point is, you want to save your father right?"
"Yeah…" She said as tears welled up in her eyes once more.
At this point, her father was covered in cuts, laying flat on his back as blood seeped from his wounds. One of the bandits stood over him, releasing a bloodthirsty cackle. With a raise of his hand, his blade would soon reap the man's life.
"Well, take my hand then. I can give you weapons to fight those men." Annerose said, snatching the girl's attention away from her Father.
"...Okay."
Marium didn't know who this sudden small being was, but if taking its hand would help save her father, she wouldn't refuse.
The instant their hands touched, a bright glow enveloped the area. This blinded the bandits, making them wince back. One of them started to speak in confusion, as they stepped out of the cave. "Hey, what's going on out he-" Before he could finish his question, his head slid from his shoulders.
As he fell lifeless, all eyes were locked on the culprit. The little girl with bright pink hair, who had just been weak and helpless, was now standing. Her tears no longer flowed, and in her eyes was an otherworldly glow. Physically, she appeared the same besides one thing, a steel sword that was in her hand.
"Where'd the brat get that from!?" One of the men shouted. Without another word, he lunged at her, stabbing quickly with his dagger. With each attack, she nimbly dodged. Her success at evasion was attributed to her small size.
The blacksmith saw nothing but the cave ceiling. He felt his breathing grow heavier and heavier. His will, which had become ironclad due to his parental duty, wasn't enough to help him rise. He didn't know why, but he heard the sound of shouting and commotion from outside the cave.
Did someone come to help them? But who? It seemed that to get his answer he'd have to wait, so he did. The sound of commotion lasted for at least a minute until there was silence.
He waited, and waited until the sound of footsteps finally reached his ears. He mentally prepared himself to see the hideous face of one of the bandit tribesmen once more. To his surprise though, he saw his little girl, smiling ear to ear.
"Hey daddy! Need help getting up?"