Unfortunately, I’m Not A Hero: 121: Interlude: ??? (Patreon)

Unfortunately, I’m Not A Hero: 121: Interlude: ???

…

Commissioned by Shaderic

Wordcount: 2500

…

A single Harpy came and the world I knew came apart.

I was a to be a weaver, like my mother before her, and her mother before her. Our wares could not compete with the offers of Driders that were coming from afar, but we were deft with our hands and we knew how to flow against the challenges posed to our family. We switched to simpler things that were still in demand, as well as opened for custom garments, and expanded beyond clothing, and offered it all our customers even as they sought out the clothes from the land of Ylstu.

My grandmother told me that was the challenge that my generation would face, that I would best learn quickly and become even more deft with my hands and tools, so that I could continue to sell and compete. Our aspirations to grow our business, to strike bargains with merchants and sell to other lands, could only continue if we pursued a different course. We would lose customers and fail, if we continued the same path, and so we must adapt, change, and hold on. I lost heart when she told me it would take everything I had to simply hold on to what we had, that it would fall to my daughters to expand and grow, but I held fast after but a night of sorrow.

We overcame challenge after challenge for generations, starting from mere peasantry, until we had a business at the foot of the nobility of the land.

My aspirations were dashed, but to simply retain what we had was more than most could hope to have, and I would surely have daughters, never grow hungry, or fear losing my home.

Those were my thoughts, until a Harpy covered in black came from above the clothes, beyond what I thought they could fly, and entered the castle.

Then, my world came apart.

The House Vielles betraying all the Kindred came as a shock to my core, but more than anything the news of what retribution was coming for them, for their lands, and their people shattered what little courage I had.

The Demon Lord’s Hand was coming to deliver retribution and nothing will stop him.

My grandmother and mother took to putting all we could upon our wagons, hiring guards, and getting all our help to assist us. Many had designs upon what we had, especially as we did our best to own all that we would use, but we prevailed against them… even as I was utterly lost in thought.

Hikigaya Hachiman, a mere man, filled me with fear and trembling.

The instinctual desire was there, but it was dwarfed by his purpose.

Nothing besides the Demon Lord herself has been able to defeat him since the Empire called upon him. Her crafted mere mortals summoned from barbarian worlds, usually fodder to feed Kindred tribes, into a force that repelled even dedicated assaults. When captured, with a mere supply train and a handful of Royal Guards at his command, he repelled his former masters when they sought to kill him with a force fit to murder the Demon Lord. After that, he studied and rested, before returning to the land upon which he was taken… and he took that blasted land and crafted it into the very center of industry and commerce in the Empire.

As my mother and grandmother tied together all we could and joined the procession to avoid the confrontation, I found myself unable to move, as I was struck with certain of my doom.

Hikigaya Hachiman was a legend in truth, a living myth, and a grand actor in an era in which I and my entire family was set to merely grasp at little luxuries. He has shattered entire armies from both the Kindred and Kingdom time and time again. Cities and castles have burned at his command, from callous flesh he molded into an unstoppable army, and gifted them with weapons, armor, magics, before assuming dominance over the skies. The locked, mountainous lands he was given, ever-threatened, has become a land of prosperity that all others compare themselves to, which all second and third daughters try to reach for a chance at happiness and wealth.

Hikigaya Hachiman, the Hand of the Demon Lord, had come and nothing we could hope to do would sway his terrible resolve.

So, as a shadow fell upon the great procession flying the castle and its town, I watched in silence with many others as he arrived with a fleet of black ships from the skies that he made his.

Those who could not feel the power he had at his disposal tried to run or cried out their surrender.

Those that could sense the magic, could discern the weight of individual essences, as I did… fell to their knees in despair.

Mundane, hardworking folk unversed in the art of magic, because it was unnecessary to them, saw sleek flying ships laden with warriors and weapons heading for us and the town. They saw the large warship laden with many weapons and an insurmountable hull, as their thoughts of resistance faded. Those who had to learn of magic and how to sense others for any means, for tailoring clothes to another forever or creating a personal weapon, saw the horrifying truth. They saw the aura of a Demon amongst Demons surging across the entire fleet, the wild power of a Hellhound seeping through the flagship and filling its weapons with terrifying potency, and finally the sheer power of all the individual warriors aboard the ships… and the rage and bloodlust they felt.

I’ve seen and tailored for the chief guards of the Vielles and they were barely equal to the least of the warriors aboard the ships, and these warriors were better armed, better trained, and experienced at war.

My doom, my family’s doom, and my world’s doom landed before the head of the procession, a massive warship that dwarfed whole houses in height with innumerable weapons bristling on its side, blocked the way of our caravan. Slimmer ships landed around us, disgorging warriors that blocked the path of those who tried to flee into the farmland beside the roads, and behind us, at the town, we heard screams of terror and pain… which were silenced entirely mere heartbeats later.

Upon the ship’s side came a Demon clad in armor that pierced my eyes and scarred my mind upon merely gazing upon it. Darker than night, menacing with spikes and edges that seemed more deadly than any sword, I still feared the one within it more than the armor itself. My heart nearly ceased as she loomed over us and stood upon a wall of weapons that could end our lives in an instant.

A single word left her lips, filled with power, and echoed not only our flesh, bones, and nerves, but our souls.

“Kneel.”

And, by that single word, all knelt as the Hand of the Demon Lord came forward.

Hikigaya Hachiman reached the Demon’s sternum in height and so I knew that he would’ve loomed over me with ease, unlike most men. He was clad in finery of a fashion all his own. Opulent, professional, and practical all the same time. At his side was a sword that I feared out of instinct, as it was of the Kingdom’s make, and had the crest of a noble on its pommel, defaced enough to ruin it, but allow that ruin to be recognized. Finally, his physique was lean, his features sharp, face shaven, and his eyes… unlike that of any other man’s I met.

The dull gazes of men, and even the hateful gazes of unbroken Kingdom knights, could not compare. His eyes had a piercing quality in his narrowed gaze, even as he looked upon us all with apathy. Like cold steel, they swam over us all, and it felt like a knife crawling across my neck as he swayed his gaze to and fro.

A moment later he called upon his magic. It was slight, just like any normal man’s, but it was controlled, tight, and distinct even in the presence of a Demon and an entire fleet of warrior Kindred. With his magic, he invoked a spell to cast his voice outward to us all and spoke with a voice… bereft of the hatred and ill-will I expected him to feel for us all.

“Return to your homes. I’m here to kill only the entire Vielle household. Not you.” His apathy for us, how little he cared for us all, struck me with immense weight. Instinctual desire coursed through me, demanding that I be seen and beguile the man, but that was outweighed by relief that I felt. I wasn’t going to die today. This wasn’t the end of my life. “All looters will be killed. You will all be under curfew. No one leaves their homes after dark. Food and water will be provided. You will be asked questions and you will comply, or you will be imprisoned. That’s all.”

With those words, uttered he turned on his heel to leave and took a single step away from us all, the cloak he wore upon his shoulders swaying with the winds… and he spoke to his Devil.

“Release them, A’Bel. I’m not in the mood for games.” The immense pressure that caused us all to kneel and lose our ability to command ourselves faded at his singular command. The Demon of immense power and might bowed and accepted his command in an instant. The Demon had grasped our souls with a word, had the ability to take from us with a whim, and relinquished all the power and might she could’ve had with just a single command. Something beyond instinctual desire filled me then, something that crept into the depths of my chest, and filled me with longing that I never felt before as Hikigaya Hachiman turned and looked over us once again over his shoulder. “Anyone who has information on the Vielles will be rewarded for their help in their destruction. Tell my soldiers and I will meet with you. Personally.”

And, with that final word, he entered my life with a single step and left it once again.

But I was changed forever.

Suddenly, I found myself at the back of our wagon, while my mother and grandmother stared at in shock.

I heard them call my name, but I didn’t care.

Power.

Authority.

Might.

I never thought those things attributed to a man. Some Kindred nobility had husbands who helped govern, but never before did I truly understand and comprehend that there existed a man that had such things and called it all his. Hikigaya Hachiman, I believed, lived off the strength of those he had by his side, who he attracted with his skills and knowledge… but that wasn’t the case.

It was true.

All of it was his.

All his lands, all his power, all his knowledge, and all his influence were no one else’s besides his. That singular ounce of knowledge had me scrambling for the records of my family’s dealings, as my innermost depths ached and ached, while my heartbeat echoed in my ears. I tossed everything else aside, my own pride, my belief in professional courtesy, and privacy as every fiber of my being bid me to present everything I had to him.

Not to make him mine, because that would be impossible.

Not to force myself upon him, because I could never hope to.

But solely for the single chance, for the single opportunity, to somehow become his.

There was no man greater. No man who called upon more than him. No other who I could belong to that could make my dreams come true.

So, my heart leapt with joy, as I found what I wanted and when I turned to yell into the sky to give it to him… I found his Demon before my carriage.

Looking at her still made my soul ache, my eyes felt as though they were being pierced simply looking at her, and being in her presence felt like heated, rusted knives were being drawn through the marrow of my bones.

But a smile formed on my face, because I knew that what I offered was truly something that Hikigaya Hachiman needed.

“What do you have more me, young tailor?”

“One half of a pair. One for Lady Vielle’s second husband, and herself, so she would know wherever he is!” It was to be delivered tomorrow, before all this occurred. My mother and grandmother looked at me aghast, and I realized that their loyalty to the Vielles ran deeper than I thought, but it mattered not to me. Nothing did besides what I offered HIS Demon with trembling hands. “P-please! Let me give it to him! Allow me to meet him as he said! P-Personally!”

In the back of my mind, I heard my mother and grandmother’s lessons about loyalty, about bowing to nobility, and about giving them all they wished at prices better than anyone else could afford. They told me that our goals and dreams were only possible with the Vielle’s permission. That we could not be anything without them, and that to betray them was to betray all other nobles, and that no one would accept us if we did.

But, in the forefront of my mind, I seized the singular opportunity to have a chance at the only thing that truly mattered: the chance to be something to the Demon Lord’s Hand, Hikigaya Hachiman, a man unlike any other. All this time, I looked upon the studs and husbands of other Kindred and felt nothing but base lust for them. I never felt the maddening need and want all other Kindred did that drove them to risk their lives for husbands, even going mad enough to take men in the middle of battle.

Now, as a Demon smiled upon me and offered me her hand, while all those I knew looked at me betrayed and heartbroken… I understood that madness completely and utterly.

I found someone who I would risk everything for, throw everything I had for, in a single instant.

“Then, little tailor, it shall be as my dear summoner commands. Take my hand… and all you wish for shall be yours.

My thoughts left me, as I held the bracelet in one hand, and took the Demon’s hand with my own.

Nothing else mattered, besides the chance that I had now.

A/N: A look at how Hachiman comes across to the educated, middle-class of the Kindred.