Anything But Saintly 5 (Patreon)

Once upon a time, I dreamed of being picked up in Albrecht's big, manly, strong arms... to bask in the security of his warm embrace, and simply be comforted by the thought that he loved me, and only me, and we would be happy for the rest of our lives. 

But that was a route closed off to me forever, never existed in the first place. The person he wanted was someone else.

But in my dreams, like this, it felt so nice, to once again return to the life I'd lived, and maybe, just maybe, if I'd reached out, if I had spoken, if I'd just been less unwilling to take a risk... if I had been a little more like Tiara, who chased her dream and her love without fear of where it may lead her, would I have been as happy as she was?

Albrecht looked down upon me, and the sparkling amethysts of the man I had once loved more than anything in the world looked down at me as he held me in his arms, and the sound I longed to hear most, his lips pronouncing my name-

"Anya..."

Yes, I-

...

Something...

"Anya..."

It's distant, as if I was hearing someone speaking underwater, far away, distracting and slowly prodding at my attention.

"Anya..."

And why- why like that? He'd... never called my name like that, had he? Not the second time, and certainly not the first, so why, why, why was he calling me like that..? Albrecht, why are you-

"Anya!"

Unless-

My eyes opened, and though his voice and eyes were full of warmth and comforting affection, my father was certainly not Albrecht! I'm sorry dad, you're just not that handsome, but you're good in your own way I promise!

Speaking of which. "What, what happened..?" I muttered, yawning as I came back to the land of the living. "What was I doing..?" I asked myself, more than him. It was a nice dream, but I could barely remember it. I only got an impression of my life before, of being taken in hands by my beloved and rescued from the hell of loneliness. 

I looked around.

Dad took up most of my vision, but I could see, behind him- my brothers, and my mother. Anders forced dad out of the way, shoving him over and placing his hands on my shoulders, causing me to realize I was laid in bed. "Anya, you gave us a terrible scare!"

He was very similar to dad in most things physical, but the rough callouses of his hands told me just how much time he spent holding his bow. At least my skin is less sensitive this time around, chalk one up for the rigors of peasantry, because otherwise he'd be hurting me just by holding me by the arms.

His hair was short, shorter than I remember, but I dismissed the thought, he checked me all over, raising my arms, putting pressure on my chest and ribs and over my kidneys, clearly checking my face for reactions. He's checking for internal, non-visible injuries, but if I've been unconscious for a while I'd start showing signs.

Besides, I'm fine, and I feel fine.

"I'm okay- stop that!" I cried, as he grabbed at my armpits and his fingers began dancing along them, oh you- "stop thaaat!" I cried out as he triggered a fit of giggles from me, I couldn't hold them back even though I was trying.

"Agitating her while she's in bed, I'm sure that's gonna just be amazing for her recovery after passing out," my other elder brother, Stephen, commented.

"Oh you shut up!" Anders cried in response. "Can't you see that I'm checking her for injuries, you useless groundworm? I'm checking her breathing! See!" his hands ran down my sides and I had no strength to stop him, and as he did, he somehow managed to hit every ticklish spot! 

Laughing my lungs out, I was forced to plead for him to stop, this was silly! "Staaaaaaahp!" I cried, "caaan't, breeeaethe," I cried out, wheezing out the words and being interrupted by giggles and laughter that was actually straining me!

"Ah cra- I-"

Brother Anders' head and neck were suddenly grabbed from behind, and he was pulled away.

Brother Stephen looked at me while holding Brother Anders in a headlock. Despite being younger, Brother Stephen was bigger, broader at the shoulders and sporting an impressive musculature of his own. "I guess it falls to the responsible brother to stop you!"

Mom interrupted all of this, however, in a single moment.

You'd have a hard time imagining Mom and Dad were a couple. He was a baker who hardly ever left town, and she was a hunter, already they were disparate, but Dad's slightly bland and boring appearance contrasted nicely with Mom's muscular form. From what I remembered, she trained herself daily, more than anyone else, and was really proud of the body she had crafted through all that work. 

It was hard to see since she was covered with thick green robes now, but I've seen her wearing only the leather armor she uses for hunting, and she definitely has an Archer's arms.

She smiled kindly at me, a much more understated expression. She was taciturn at the best of times!

"Are you alright, Anya?" she asked, softly. "Your father told us he found you passed out in the street, and you wouldn't wake up..." she said, taking my hand in hers. This was... this was an inn, not our home, now that I looked around. "This is the Strickland Inn - Mister Strickland insisted to put you up here when he saw us panicking."

Oh!

Mister Strickland... bald, thick mustache and a well kept beard, about as big around as he was tall and a general busybody... I think. I'm not sure. Dad's not always the most reliable of sources you know!

"How do you feel?" dad asked.

I hummed, and after sparing a glance at where Anders and Stephen, my oh so worried brothers, were locking horns like Pentagoats, I turned back to mom and dad. "I feel fine," I said. "I-"

"We know - your father told us about the... magic," mother said, though her tone was a bit worried.

"Sorry dear, I know you wanted to do it yourself," well... I did, and I wanted to do it on my own terms, but I can forgive you if you were worried dad, "but I didn't know what to do so..."

I shrugged. "I guess it's fine," I said, "but- was there anyone with me? It feels like I was talking to someone," I said, "or maybe it was a dream?"

It's not so hot that I'd pass out but I'm also new to this whole Saint Thing, I really don't know how holy powers work all that well. Humorous, I know, considering who I am, or who I was, or- whatever, I've never had holy powers before. I just pretended I did and used regular magic instead!

"Well you were alone, just sitting against a wall when I found you. It must've been a dream," Dad said, crouching beside me and patting my head. "It... must've had to do with you using your powers. Sweetie, I know you didn't want to... but we might need to go to the church... if your powers are dangerous-"

"No!" I cried, shaking my head. "I'm fine, I feel fine!" I said, pushing Dad away and getting off the bed. "See?" I said, gesturing widely, "I'm fine!" I repeated, jumping in place and then bouncing on the balls of my feet, even throwing a few punches the way I've seen my brothers and mom do during their exercises. "See! I bet I could knock someone out right now!" I said, taking a few more swings.

"If you put your thumb inside your fist, you're gonna break it," Mom advised. "Here, like this," she said, showing me how to close my fist properly. "And put your weight behind the move, it's not much but-"

Dad cleared his throat.

"Right," mom said, raising a hand to her mouth and faking a cough, "I'll support you if you don't want to go to the church, your intuition's always been really good," she said, her expression hardening in a moment, "but if this happens again - or if we feel it's necessary, we'll do everything in our power to find someone who can help you with your powers, okay?"

I looked aside.

"Anya, darling... please," dad said.

I sighed. 

"I'll think on it," I said, finally. "I think I've got this," I said, "I must've just overused my powers or something," I said, raising my hand and looking at it. Concentrating on my magical energy, and using every exercise I'd learned in my long days bored out of my skull back at the Hessiod home, I created the most basic and simple of spells in my hand, a white, almost colorless, sphere of light- but-

"Oh, how pretty..."

It was no colorless sphere of solid light, but instead, it looked to be an almost liquid rainbow ball, moving and swirling and making every color dance in front of my eyes...

"I- I don't know what this is," I admitted, freely. 

Even my brothers stopped fighting to look upon the rainbow orb. I brought my other hand up and encased the malformed spell within my hands, shrinking it until it  was only the size of a pea. 

It was... surprisingly draining to do so. There was so much power contained in this tiny ball, it was hard to compress it. Even though it was one of the most basic spells, even though it was one of the most basic exercises, just to even start learning how to cast proper magic. Light Ball was so simple and easy that even children could use it, provided they had sufficient mana and were taught how to manipulate it, and yet-

This little ball alone, cast with my current body, eclipses what the Great Saint was capable of!

"Woah, the little deerlet might actually be amazing after all," Brother Anders said, blinking as he looked into the orb I'd crafted.

I let it return to its natural size, about as big as my closed fist, opened my hands and then began to tear the spell apart at the seams, letting it come undone, dissolving into multicolored mist that quickly faded into the air.

And with that, I collapsed back onto the bed, sitting and panting as I did.

"O-Okay, so I guess I know what that was then..!" I said, "turns out this magic stuff's pretty tiring to do!"

"H-How did you do that?" dad asked. "I've- I've heard that it takes years of instruction just to cast the simplest of spells, and, and you-"

In my exhaustion, I couldn't help it, I giggled. "Guess I'm just amazing, huh?" I said, shooting a smug look at Brother Anders.

Brother Stephen chuckled, and elbowed our older brother in the ribs.

"Yes, you are, you've always been," Mom said, patting my head. "But no more using magic willy nilly until you know it's safe, alright?" she asked. "At least, not when you're alone."

"What, why?" I asked. 

"Imagine you pass out and collapse, and you hit your head, and there's nobody to find you," mom said, "hunters never work alone for this reason. A minor injury can become fatal if left unattended for too long," she said. "So you only practice your magic when there's somebody to supervise you, alright?"

I nodded. "Okay, that makes sense," I said, "besides we have to make sure to keep the secret and it's easier if there's people to be the lookout, right brothers?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Deerlet," Brother Anders said.

Brother Stephen whistled innocently.

"Reminds me of us," dad said, swinging an arm over mom's shoulders. 

Mom nodded. "Yes, I remember you would always run to fetch the guardsman whenever you caught us doing anything mischievous so we had to put up a lookout just to make sure you weren't around."

Dad visibly cringed, but the rest of us just laughed.