My name is Arthur Anamdead, and my last name has an emphasis on the sound AN as opposed to AM. I am a shopkeeper. I am not a patron and the customers I receive are no fancy word beyond that: Customer. I am not a god, fortunately. I am but a shopkeeper who runs a shop somewhere by Lumarity Forest (a wonderfully wooden area run mainly by good, honest working Beastkin) whose specialty is magic and runs his shop with a family he absolutely loves. I am happily married with 8 children: 4 sons, Éved, Jackal, Remus and Logan. 3 daughters, Freyja, Toffy and Stella, one niece, Verity. MOACA knows how many more after some decided to join the cult said niece has created, and decided to have every acolyte call me "Uncle Arthur" and my wife who adopted all of them in all but the surname "Auntie Mary-Anne".
Do we still love them all? Absolutely. Family is family no matter the size.
Family could be any size you'd like it to be, even if it's just your own self or a key group of friends you call by the same name. Truth be told, I was inspired to do these small entries (I suppose you'd call them) after a very good friend of mine and my niece Verity on a planet known as Earth by the name of Scarlet. Should you happen to stop by New York City, please tell her my family and I say hello and thank you. Just be careful, you might find yourself feeling a bit drowsy if said 'hello' goes on for a tad too long.
In keeping with the spirit of the supernatural experience, there of course will be those who wish to explore what they consider that exact word for reasons of 'boredom', 'curiosity' and sometimes even for the fun of it. However, take the air quoted words in the sentence before and switch them around and the "supernatural" to "god-like" experience usually ends up in that order with the word "Hunger" in the middle. Only three horsemen out of four in this entire process, if you will. Whether these entries will be a guide to not going down this path I don't know, yet the last subject being what I consider the most important of all. I may very well give some form of advice, perhaps not, but I will occasionally ramble about how proud I am of my family. That much I can guarantee.
My name again is Arthur Anamdead. It's nice to meet you.
Starting stories:
In my over 25+ years of keeping my shop, slightly specially expanded interior caravan it is and the Homebrew Mage who creates magic for a living that I am, one of the struggles most cease to understand in regards to the concept of being powerful is the amount of stories you inadvertently create without realizing. Whenever I give someone a contract for something as bizarre as "Ski Magic" or "Game Magic", as common as "Godspeed" or even something as commonly powerful as "Telekinetic Molecular Movement", I feel a sense of weariness that some of them can and will try to play God, one of two basic rules I have for said contracts, and yet a sense of calm and pride whenever said customer takes that contract to try and do better in their lives. Not because I made them do so, but because they wished to do so.
Really, whether you decide to help someone out for a single moment or decide to slay some grand beast to the effect of a Glass Mimic or a Machofallo, or even simply helping them through some difficult time in their life, you never know just how many stories you yourself start. Whether or not you are the villain however, well, that's really for them to decide.
You can and more than likely will be a character in someone's story, whether you start it or not. Every story in some form or another can be connected, even if mainly done by a madman with little to do. However, if you truly wish to not become a god with the power you have, best not to allow perception of your character to be the character they place in theirs. You are only your own author in terms of how you write yourself, but the character of anyone else, you unfortunately cannot do anything with. I've seen multiple adventurers and intentionally or not start the story of someone else, but beyond that small influence, becoming too involved can be a dangerous habit.
There was a boy by the given name of "The Saint", a funny title in itself, the first contract he asks from me is "Can you make me immune to every attack?" "Alright" says I. With the simple cost of "Do not play god", he was on his way to become something grand, until his colleagues asked for more. It wouldn't stop, "Saint Light Magic" I would call this contract where he'd never be damaged via any attack, he'd shoot a beam of light energy that would never miss and his guild mates saw this. They kept asking for more. The Saint becoming terrified for his life in the grand scale of it all, I suppose he couldn't shoulder the burden of being the weapon his guild depended on in the face of an inferior arsenal. His story is one I understand. I feel it was one of realizing when to stop, and that's perfectly fine, it was a tale of self importance. Sometime later I gained that magic type back after he said those three words "I am God", I suppose he was finally ready to move on from it all and start a new life, and the rest is simply a number of days past.
Fortunately, sometimes the stories you start can begin with a decent lesson. The Saint, for all his faults, genuinely did seem like a boy who fought for the sake of what was right before anything else. He taught a small run down guild in the middle of a Lizard-Kong ambush how to stand up for themselves, to keep moving no matter what. Unfortunately, it's only a matter of time before the image of the one giving the lesson becomes "He Beyond The Universe's Walls' in the eyes of everyone watching. I think it's only fortunate that the boy realized this sooner rather than that it was best he left before he himself became part of the same equation of "Who will defeat what defeats me? How long will this cycle continue?"
Last I've heard of him, my niece Verity played a relatively harmless haunt on him. As she is dead, she slipped into his psyche and played around with a few hallucinations, but the two laughed about it. Some time later he and one of my youngest sons, Logan, with his dark red hair the same as his adoptive mother and brain capacity never ending, seemed to have become the best of friends and attended the same academy.
It's funny how sometimes just because one story started a tad rough, it doesn't mean it will always end without a laugh. Will it end in sadness? Maybe. Will they laugh like Logan with The Saint? Also maybe. Will they fall in love like Verity with her fiancé, Rosa, or I with Mary-Anne? Who knows? But one thing I do know, everyone starts someone's story, and they write it all from there.
There's always another one
My eldest son, Éved and I went down to Lumarity's market the other day. Éved was wearing a yellow striped shirt that clashed with his darkened shaded skin as his dreadlocks were slicked back to where they touched the pink leather and knee high boots he usually wears. An adventurer begins handing out a bunch of pamphlets asking whoever believes in The Almighty to take one for themselves, to which my son and I shrugged and decided to read one for ourselves. The literary context for each entity was buggy but it was ultimately alright, but I will never forget the little high-five we had at the next question the handler would ask. "Do you believe in any of these entities?" She asked. "I've met some of them." We replied and high-fived too.
I've actually met their mother before, she's an amazing being. The Mother Of All Creation. I asked her "Mother"? They said the concept of He/She was simply created after everything else. "Why don't I call you God then?" I asked "Well, why would you be called by the thing you created?" They responded with a giggle. I simply called her MOACA for short and it's never been the same since. She described the making of all there was, is, and will be as "convincing the void of what it is not." And soon enough, when she convinced herself who she was and was not, the Universal Spectrum was created. I believe you resign in the Universe of Black. This is not the only "everything" that exists, if you'd like. In fact, half of creating each universe was described by MOACA as "convincing herself and the void which concepts and embodiments exist and what they themselves are not". And since that first moment, the first Big Bang was created, the cycle would always continue until eventually we get to what I've learned as a child with all 10 main universes as a whole, all differently colored and with different ways to express "Miracles", "Symbols", "Authorities", etc. For example, where the Universe of Green may very well express these concepts via different species and biological traits, the Universe of Violet might require contracts with the gods MOACA has created, and finally the Universe of Red could very well have unique mental skills one can use to enhance certain parts of the brain itself. Either way, it all makes it so Magic is complicated on that front, it's simple but never what you think it is. It's the same concept, but always expressed in a different way, "more than one everything" if you will. Eventually, as the concept of "Names" became developed, way after MOACA's time, religions were born as humanity began to record the feats of the gods she has given birth to, some to embody different concepts, others for the sake of watching over each and every one of these universes. Gods such as Poseidon, Amun, Thor, Zeus, Morrigan, Shiva, Hades, Erlang, Amaterasu, and Hercules. I've had a chance to meet a very good amount of these gods before when I still wielded Excalibur. They were rather impressive and even offered a good fight as far as my 20 year old, foolish self was concerned.
"More than one everything". If that didn't put some things into perspective for me, I don't know what will. I actually tried making my own universe after meeting MOACA. She gave me a small encouraging "Go on", and all I got at the end of it all was an apple pie after it was done. Actually tasted quite good, albeit tempting.
I realized that for all their freedom, they also had a lot of rules and duties they, strangely enough, oft times neglected heavily. Perhaps not only having domain over the concepts they've authority over and having to maintain those concepts is either as easy or more difficult than I understood, but it was in staying with them, I remember someone joking of I becoming THE God of Magic itself. "The god of magic wielding Excalibur." Laughed along Zeus and Ares.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, I felt actual fear not at the responsibility, but the idea of being anything less or more than human. I didn't know why at the time or how to explain it, but being called "God" simply was not the "Man" I wanted to be. Having to give up my freedom to play by the lack of rules they were given? I knew it would destroy my soul. So, I left the celestial realm that same week, after what seemed like a year and few well placed goodbyes, and only really came back during an occasional reunion. I still keep in touch with some gods, but a combination of that and the tragedy of my final battle with Excalibur, I've never touched that sword again. It was simply time to walk away, leaving the pain and the absolute ego behind.
Ever since that day, it started driving me to laugh like a madman every single time I see someone bow to their knees and clap their hands to thank the singular being they believe made their life the way it is. Well, that sort of makes me laugh sometimes as well, I must admit. I find it amazing that shorter gods are gaining more attention, but the god they prayed to didn't put in the work alone, they did. I cannot and will not speak on what being a god entails, but the contracts I bestow, I give them the opportunity to change oneself for the better. Whatever they're to do afterwards is their decision.
But that said, sometimes prayers can be answered. If it weren't for the gods themselves I wouldn't have Éved at all.
Many years ago, nearly 305, Éved's birth mother essentially performed a ritual to keep his spirit alive while his home kingdom burnt down. One he was to be prince of one day. All of it was gone in a single war, a non-complex war but a war nonetheless. His mother of blood performed a ritual, an incantation type spell to essentially set his soul into a golem made of the clay that surrounds him daily. There were a few times we've asked him for more information but beyond the bare facts he wouldn't say. Whether it's due to memory or any other reason, Mary-Anne and I always figured it best to let him say the rest when the time is right. And for what it's worth, I feel he's a perfect example of what makes magic the way it is: Interpretation.
The key to any ability, no matter how small it is, according to MOACA herself along with how she made every universe along with all there has been and will be, is how the wielder interprets it. Say someone merely had the ability to control a single flower petal and not beyond, they could either interpret it as just that, OR apply their Mana in just the right way and turn that petal into either a shield blowing in the wind, move objects landed upon it, and who knows what else. Éved, over 300 years of life, actually began to interpret his "Cursed Clay" (as he calls the body he was put into) as being able to shape Essentially every molecule in his body. Ever since then, his self molding has become nigh invincible in density, longevity, and creativity, anytime there's a dungeon none of my other children can get through he's always the first to stick his hand in a door with his hand turned into the key. Always willing to offer a helping hand, Éved.
The same rule of interpretation goes for absolutely everyone using magic, but as MOACA has shown me before, along with many others without their knowing, too much knowledge can lead to madness if they don't know how to interpret it properly. This is why Levels 1-5 exist, actually. Mainly as a way to regulate Mana control and growth, but as the imagination grows, so does their interpretation. A factor I can proudly say my entire family excels at greatly. My wife in particular with her Dust Magic is as terrifying yet as beautiful as she is at any moment of the day. Every time she fights, alongside her pistol "Sweet Passion", she doesn't fight with her magic, she dances. The dust storms she could create with the wave of her hands through the soil alone sets my soul on fire.
Oh yes, My eldest daughter Freyja and her Emotion Magic eventually reached the point of conjuring snow that locks someone's emotions in place as she exudes two main weaknesses with hers: 1. Her Magic requires physical contact, and 2: Emotions can only be what she's feeling at a specific time. With snow, not only can she make contact with anyone via her Mana, but set a reminder that "emotions can fall as gently as the snow". That Freyja, nature brings out her inner poet.
Even examples such as Logan having a disorder where Mana is not evenly created throughout the body, the third blood cell Wondertalians use to create Mana at all only manifests in his brain making it the most powerful part of his body. But did he let that stop him from using it to the fullest? NO. He sat down and read about every book on every subject he could, and next thing you know there isn't a single angle in the world he can't see or an event he can't plan for. There's a reason he calls himself "DISCIPLE LEADER".
Remus, being a master of all things "Thread", is also quite the trickster and procure of information when he wishes to be. It's impressive how many secrets he has spilled over a cup of tea simply because someone was speaking through one of his threads. "He who plays the strings of fate" he calls himself. Rather exciting to see what color those threads turn out to be. Knowing my own son, he would definitely try to turn it from red to green, or whatever color is in season.
But my youngest daughter, Stella, however might be the closest thing to an actual god of energy through this process as well. I am so proud of her for not allowing it to make her any less of a sweetheart than she is now, but with the ability and knowledge she's gained about the full spectrum of energy types, well I believe that's a discussion for later.
But granted, Verity, in her white shoulder length hair and her gothic aesthetic, undoubtedly was ready for the title of "Goddess" within the creed the minute she made it, or rather found it (that's a story for another time). It's actually quite amazing how this could illustrate my point on the concept of starting stories from before. The Creed and the Acolytes were founded and nothing was the same for most of them ever since. In fact, just the other day Mary-Anne, Verity and I were even toying with the idea of giving them all a job as delivery people for my contracts. That way if anyone wishes to experience a fun little bit of magic but can't find my shop, we allow them to go on little harmless quests alone. But sometimes, just sometimes, it's nice to finally have one of those days where the use of magic isn't needed.
Boredom
A lesson I had to teach my youngest and first adopted daughter, Stella. When she was a very young girl, barely the age of 2, her brain supposedly worked to the point where an entire library was read in a single day. She is the Province Leader of Gluttony in all but interest, she's very into pastels these days as she transitions into her teens, and while she is technically a demon in every sense of the word, it still breaks my heart to know that she's been forced to become a weapon by The Devil Formerly Known as Luci. Almost every form of energy is now here to control, and now with the way her brain works, I've no doubt she'd make an incredible hero to the public. I will never forget what she said to me when she finally achieved her form of Level 5 by the age of 10: I asked her if she feels scared or worried for her family, to which she hugged both myself and Mary-Anne, balled her eyes out and stated "I don't wanna hurt you or Mom or big sister VV or my big brothers or sisters or cousins because I got bored like so many others. I wanna be human like you, I don't want you two to go because of me. Please Dad, please Mom, don't go, I don't wanna say goodbye."
So why did I feel the most pain when she emphasized the concept of boredom? Why would such a godly being decide to play with another life out of sheer boredom and such? My daughter, who I have raised since she was 2, was afraid of becoming a bored god? I told her in that exact moment that she sounded more human in that moment than most who strive to become a god. Gods, in exchange for absolute power over a certain concept, unfortunately seem to have the need to sacrifice the basic concepts of 'decency' and 'awareness of the small' in order to focus on what they deem as important to all. As much as I enjoyed the company of a few, I have no doubt they still have the potential to learn.
I dread to imagine how many have in fact taken an ant and fried its entire colony with a magnifying glass, but then you realize how strong they truly are. When you're facing off against an ant twice your size, you won't exactly be laughing yourself.
That entire week, Stella didn't let myself or Mary-Anne out of her sight. Nobody in the family could blame her. The idea of becoming a weapon for those who wish for nothing more than to become the next step in the race of arms is a depression she and I have experienced before. And to think that my youngest daughter, the one just now going into junior high, is experiencing this at such a young age, it felt as if my soul was being destroyed. Thank goodness she has such an amazing family willing to help convince her she's not a monster like she thought. In fact, I believe as of writing this my second youngest daughter, Toffy, with her pink short hair and her DNA patterned labcoat and absolute expertise in chemistry and machinery, is actually helping her with some sort of science fair project. With their brains combined, I'm so excited (and terrified) to see what kind of revolutionary contraption they come up with. But I doubt I'm ready for what kind of design they'll give it. 35 Gold however says it's something modeled after an animal of some kind. Toffy, ever the medic and ever the gadget tinkerer. I think she actually figured out a new trick in Healing Magic just the other day, actually.
All this inane rambling aside, the point I try to bring up; being a god is not as easy as you would believe. Yes, you have complete domain over the concept you lord over. You could reign over 'Time', 'The Ocean', 'Sky', and even smaller concepts such as 'Soap', 'Sickles', 'Bears' or 'Mushrooms', but it always starts in the exact same place with everyone else: figuring out which magic type to actually start with. Every mage in Alltale starts at a simple Level 1 and all wish to obtain the unlimited power of Level 5. That's where your Mana almost never runs out, where your affinity has almost no limit. It's a dream for many to obtain, but the truth in my eyes alone is that aside from a fancy title that sounds fun at the time, becoming a Level 5 still has a lot to be desired, and one of those ways is near absolute boredom if you stop grounding yourself to reality. For all the dramatic novels that could be made about the type of exploits of these Level 5s, most of the reality of their everyday life mainly boils down to a sort of misguided trudge waiting for something exciting to happen. It's tedious, monotonous, yet at the end of the day I think it serves to show that feeling of struggle, not knowing how to go about something is an essential part of being human. If anything, the biggest struggle of becoming Level 5 is finding your humanity again. Try singing a song or two as a fight goes on, that's what Stella likes to do. Or try to make it into a festival, try to make it interesting in one way or another.
Yet I believe my second eldest son, Jackal, said it best. "Stick to what ya got, otherwise the new moves ya get are just the same show." Jackal, in spite of being a fire mage with the simple spell of "Blaster Punch" (Admittedly, he might be right when he said it's all he'll ever need), is a secretly shy one, black hair barely brushed over his eyes with a pair of ears on his head and tail just like his name, he doesn't say much but when he finally does, everyone knows it's important. Yet it amazes me whenever he truly proves that emotion is what it truly takes not only to be human, but sentient. I'm proud to say he's my son, as I am to say my family is mine.
Every mage starts the same way, wherever they go from the beginning is truly up to them. Your journey is, as I have stated, yours to write.
Revenge
A somewhat touchy subject, one that I am not particularly "into". I promise you this is the case.
However, sometimes on your journeys just beyond the Forest of Screaming Aloevera and near the Shampoo River as you've collected a sack of ink from the pool of rock about 35.24 miles away, you will meet people like guild masters, royals, or even debt collectors who are that wonderfully ineffable combination of Ignorant Stupidity.
This story I have told all my children as we all sat around by a fireplace in our pajamas. When I was much younger, right after my home kingdom of Camelot unfortunately burnt down via the hands of a mad man, I wandered around from town to town taking on rather strange jobs. Some days I would use my magic to quickly clean a gutter of the Gachanko Fly's guts, the next it would be making potions of restoration for a village that has fallen ill because some careless traveler decided to leave a dragon's corpse on top of their local mountain thinking it would simply disappear, the next I would help give advice to a failed mimic. The task I will be discussing here is a very particular time I fell into a kingdom by the name of Jethor. Unfortunately it is in the trade of "Adventurer" that you will meet certain folk such as certain royals, guild masters and the such that are a wonderfully fallible example of "The Fool with a Closed Ear". A closed eye you can beat, because eventually they will have to open them in order to see where they're going. A closed mouth, you can help open by letting someone freely speak, but a closed ear, you unfortunately cannot do anything with until they choose to open them, until then they are under a chain, lock and key. The kind where if you scream that some may die from a decision, they can and most likely will blurt out to let them.
I got stuck with a lot of hero parties as the quote en quote "Contract Guy". You know when you get assigned a hero party you always have to be given some form of a title such as "The Saint", "The Barbarian", "The Mage", "The Death God", "The Analyst", etc.? The deal I made with the elven king of Jethor, King Kappas XXIV, essentially mentioned that for as long as I teach his niece, Ariadne, how to control her family's style of Plant Magic, I would not be given any sort of a title. Rights revert. So as myself and Ari, the little seedling I would call her back in the day, celebrated how she finally sang in the correct frequency and grew a sprout from the ground, I was assigned some random team from the 3 guilds they owned and every time they would talk to me, they would constantly call me "The Contract Guy". By the time the fellow with a sword and cape told me he was to slay the local demon lord (yes, local. They're not only an obstacle for farmer boys given a contract) I knew exactly where this quest was going. Of course it was some big ruse to use Ariadne as some sort of pay bonus for the sake of using status. I brought this up to King Kappas XXIV and there was magically nothing that could be done.
Wrong, wrong and wrong. I could sing the word "wrong" like a bell. "Either tell them not to use your niece's name for the sake of a pay boost, take them away from a battle where multiple innocent people could die no matter what and than take every single allegation this party could possibly make with these contracts and have them signed by your hand, you're not doing anything this weekend, or you have lost my services." Still, he would not relent. "Okay" I say as I remember and recount the words of my late brother, Pack-Mule. He said to me when we were children growing up in Camelot: "I don't care whether you win or lose, if someone starts some shit, you finish it." The little seedling and my eldest daughter, Freyja, both elven but the latter adopted, with white hair both cued up a story I'll never forget their reactions too. They asked "What did you do? Try to sue them?" I said "Nay nay, no blood was shed, rather I've made this first and last quest a living, hellish SLOG!!" "How?" Freyja asked with slight intrigue. "Good communication with a demon lord and removal of all things interesting in the fray. Amazing the kind of fear they exude when there's not a single distraction." Verity laughed and started taking notes. She also has a habit of getting even with those that have either duped her or any other family member no matter how small, and nobody calls her this family's "Queen of Fear" without reason. In fact, just the other day, Stella actually came home crying about being called an evil devil by a certain professor at her school. Verity saw this and practically screamed "OH ITS GONNA BE LIKE THA', GOV?! ALRIGHT THAN!!"
What's actually quite amazing is just how similar the after results were to my little stunt as a child. I had contact with the Demon Lord of Birds at the time, she had ties with the Boogeywoman herself, both rather kind of you get to know them even if they take their job rather seriously. That said, we both had ties to the one person that made both of these revenge plans actually work as well as they did; Cousin Sandro. For reference, picture in your mind, if you will, a large 8-9 '5 fellow, skinny yet muscular wearing a black and white 4 piece suit with the head of a white tiger and the brown-ish mane of a lion with hands best described as "Tiger paws with opposable thumbs". You got all of that? I have met him during my time in Jethor, a fellow detrimentally focused on whichever task he is given, but almost treats his magic as if he is listening to the beautiful sound of a forte piano. In fact, I think Verity has made him into The Creed's "Scare Master". If someone is about to attack some part of the creed, Sandro is the one they send to give a small scare into them, to which he will accept the job by saying "Sure what will I do is that." That's just the way he speaks. He's the best at what he does and an absolute master in the art of "DNA Magic."
What exactly he said to all of them is not important, but what it was was the seedling's reaction to the whole thing. That said, Verity never went into full detail over the kind of hallucinations she gave said professor, or what Sandro did at all, but what I am told, along with Mary-Anne by my side at the time, was that by the time said professor hit the academy's front doors, just like Cousin Sandro's little assignment, the after result was ripe-o. And we're talking about Mondo Screamo, weirdly enough a music genre Verity's girlfriend Rosa introduced her to. I don't really get it, but as long as they like it, I don't mind.
The humorous part is that the moment Stella heard of Verity's little noble endeavor to help her sister, both her revenge plot and mine ended with the same kind of screaming that was so inarticulate that neither Stella nor Ariadne could speak properly. Almost with the same kind of scream as well. "TEACHER ALMOST HAD THE ENTIRE ROOM FUMIGATED, BIG SISTER!!" Stella screamed in as high a pitch as she could muster. I still remember the seedling giving an almost similar scream "WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!? SOME BIG TIGER MAN TOLD TEAM DAISY HE'LL TURN THEIR HEARTS INTO JELLYFISH!" followed by her trying to hit my leg and telling me "Uncle just came in from an open organ surgery this morning. There's no way he won't see what you did." "I hope he/she does" Verity and I would both say in a different context. "WHY SO YOU CAN TORMENT HIM/HER?!" They both scream, again, in different contexts. And so I put my hand on Ariadne's shoulder and said "No, because they're everything a good princess shouldn't be. They're misguided to think of themselves rather than any other subject." Verity does the exact same to Stella and simply states "Nah baby sis, it's 'cause she's got to have the will to see some real scary sh** if she's gonna compare." Both Stella and Ariadne in our respective stories screamed "DONT YOU EVER GIVE UP?!" Verity and I said "That's the message." Again, it is amazing how much of yourself you see in family and the kind of revenge one can inflict if it means protecting truly loved ones.
Expectations
My friends, the idea of being a God is not an easy one you can simply pick as you did, say, being a doctor when you were a simple child. It's a complicated matter of wondering how much you should do for everybody around you, if you do too much then people become dependent, if you do too little some will lose hope. It's a terrifying situation. If you're randomly given, say, 50 different types of magic tomorrow morning and join a guild, it's a doubtless notion that you'll be expected to use them all. It's tedious, terrifying to some, and they will weigh you down if you listen to them for too long.
As I have stated before, I am not a "God", simply a Shopkeeper. I do not wish to rule, conquer or dominate anything nor one. I prefer the term "The All and The None". None of my family are gods in any way shape or form. They're as loving, emotionally mature, smart and ambitious as anyone could hope for even if they've their own little quirks to them.
Yet the expectations of my contracts, I will not particularly say, got old quickly but it's definitely a "given with the occupation" type of description. Everyone, as mentioned before, always wishes to become a Level 5, everyone always wishes to say "I want this form, this form, this form" and almost every time they do, myself or a family member would usually respond with "How about you get the basics right?" Keep in mind, every single person who acquires Mana always starts at Level 1 and you have to work yourself up from there. Now imagine having to gradually work yourself up from Level 1 to 2. I'm sorry, but hard work will be required for the same reason I don't give out contracts to make anyone an immediate Level 5.
I grew up in a small temple in the kingdom of Camelot where this exact lesson was always drilled into the heads of myself, Pack-Mule and my two sisters, Cocoa the eldest sister, and Shiny the younger sister, and youngest of us all. Wondertale's first team of Level 5's. We didn't have much, but what we had were each other and our mentors within the temple itself. It was always somewhat of a laugh riot whenever someone would try to do the same spiel of wanting every form mastered, when they haven't even figured out what their own unique magic type even is yet. And sometimes, the expectations that come with it can and will become excess weight.
Expectations, in a way, are actually what caused Camelot to burn down in a sense, the madman's name was Galahad. A student of the temple such as myself and my siblings told from the very beginning that he would be a king one day. The expectations just weighed on his head and simply wouldn't stop. His magic best described as "Parasites" would keep evolving into different species laid in his arm, but eventually for reasons I never knew, he developed some sort of voice, snapped, and decided to burn the whole of Camelot itself. And to him, I'm sorry that your head was taken by my sword, old friend. I hope your next life is a more fulfilling and peaceful one.
I suppose in the end, the most important step to dealing with expectations that will inevitably come is to set some for yourself and not to beat yourself over a single failure by everyone else's standards. Mistakes and failures happen, just be sure you stand and walk the next morning or at least try to move your feet.
True Love
About a few years back after most of my children were adopted, Verity caught my youngest son Remus, in his rather slender yet fashionable figure, his white and green hair parted to the side and wearing a mask over his mouth, kicking and screaming in his bed about how to ask a boy he liked at his academy out. And as far as I remember, she basically grabbed him by the hand and had Mary-Anne call a family meeting out of the blue and give him some advice on how to go about his pursuit. Logan taps him on the shoulder and simply responds "Buddy, you're talking to your twin brother who didn't even wanna date but suddenly ended up with two girlfriends who also love each other. I have no idea how you'd go about it." To which Remus responded "Yeah, thanks ya brainiac, so much for your help today." "Woah" says Logan throwing up his hands "Twinsy, that was uncalled for. Also, please don't make me call you 'twinsy' again please and thank you." They get along quite well.
I think it was around that time where they would usually ask "Dad, how did you and Mom meet for the first time?" But no, it was actually Mary-Anne that gave the advice this time as opposed to me. "Sweetheart, just say hello and work ya way from there. That's what'cha father did when we met."
That it was. I couldn't forget it if I tried. Although, it wasn't one of those "love at first sight" stories everyone seems obsessed with. Sometimes love, my friends, although just as potent, doesn't always happen at first sight. In fact, as she said, it all started with a simple "hello" between the two of us. I first met her in a small diner in a kingdom known only as "Wonderland", a cheesy name but I've grown to like it. It really started far before I met and adopted Stella, but right after my time in the kingdom of Jethor was done, the wandering began once more, only now with the first rendition of my shop. It was a small caravan, the kind where one could only fit one's body in if they had room after all the bottles they'd store on the shelves.
And that's when I finally met her. The love of my life and the reason my heart beats the way it does, my gorgeous wife Mary-Anne. She sat next to me in a dress only fit for what Freyja would describe as "The Casual Queen", I suppose she was trying to get away from some sort of drama back at home. Her auntie The Duchess and cousin, Betty-Sue, are wonderful people I might add. She sat next to me, I suppose by mistake and it all began with a small smile and a handwave.
"Hello" we both said.
"Arthur, pleasure is mine."
"...Mary-Anne."
Introductions finally aside, a small conversation began.
"You're not from around here are you?" She asked me with a small smile as her head tilted to the side and onto her hand.
"No madam, that I am not. I'm actually from Nation 4 and sort of landed here while on the sea. Would you know where I am?"
"Huh. That's surprising."
To this day, I still remember the shine of her soul whenever the subject of "Food" and "Music" popped up,
"YOU KNOW THE ACOUSTIC GENERATIONS!?" She screamed that same night without any control
"Yes, my sisters listened to it all the time." I said equally excited.
And the amount of songs she's learned on almost every instrument possible all because she wanted to cook what little edible matter her mother would let her eat before passing away. She didn't elaborate beyond that point until much later. I told her about my time in Camelot before everyone else did as well. Time flew by us both and we just couldn't stop laughing, one minute it's a joke after another, the next we're sharing stories of the little adventures we've had alone. I still remember the embarrassed look she had when she mentioned her unique magic type.
"Dust", she said. What her true magic was, she kept a secret for good reasons. But I still remember the way she looked away and coughed into her hand as if she didn't think it was anything special.
"DUST?!" I nearly screamed with what felt like stars in my eyes.
"It's nothing too special."
"Oh, nay nay, do you have any idea how many spells one could pull off with just dust alone?"
"Stop, it's just not that impressive, oh my god."
It was really during our third or fourth meeting, I believe, where we finally became a couple and never let each other go ever since. That ride down the river of chamomile tea as the stairways in the clouds radiated off of her eyes, the laughs we've had at stories of the past, and most of all, her voice. One truly of the angels and one I couldn't help but wish to dance to with her in my arms. The smile at the first dip during said dance is another moment I will never forget. I'll also never forget how we immediately fell off the boat into said river of tea immediately after I've tried it. Still gets a laugh out of the both of us today.
It's really small memories that made me realize how much her smile and the glow of her soul actually meant to me. The look in her eyes when I accidentally tripped in a mud puddle when meeting her auntie, the way we laughed as her title of "queen" was revealed with her asking "You just noticed?" The way we were into the same music, the simple look of happiness she had during our first kiss, the way her eyes burn with protective energy every time she wields her pistol and hits her targets with ungodly accuracy, the look of shock and amazement when I tried her food The Duchess didn't approve of showing on display. The way she screamed in excitement with Betty-Sue when she told her and the Duchess we were getting married.
I look at her, and I would die for her. She has been the reason I've kept my humanity for so long, if you'd like. And ever since I first met the ones she called family, everything has changed. I was no longer a god, nor the monster humanity called me. She was not the Cannibal Queen that everyone in Wonderland would fear, she was simply a gorgeous and caring woman with a heart that set mine on fire. She is Mary-Anne, and she simply makes me feel like Arthur. Nothing more, nothing less.
"If this man makes you feel like you're nothing less than you, Remus, and you enjoy his company, go ahead and tell him how you feel. But, for now, for the sake of figuring out how you feel about him, start with a simple "Hello"." I tell my son who at the time is just shaking with both excitement and anxiety, yet as Stella moves into her high school years, Remus is moving into his new apartment with his husband.
Family
Where do I even begin with this sort of subject? I could start with where it all began and where it went from there, I could tell you about so many family members it could make your head spin, but then we would more than likely be here forever. I suppose that if I had to choose one subject of all to consider my most important, it would undoubtedly be them, my family themselves. If not for any of them, I doubt I would remain in the world of the living today.
How many praises can one father sing about his children?
Stella, in spite of the demonic nature of her biological being, destined to become Province Leader of Gluttony itself, never lost track of what it actually meant to be human. To love, to show appreciation to everyone around her. And the comics she enjoys in the newspaper, something about a team of fairies fighting evil, dear MOACA, how she goes crazy every time a new issue comes out. Not to mention that she is in fact a very smart girl, and is more than willing to put that knowledge to use. I just hope high school treats my youngest with the proper respect she deserves. Oh who am I kidding? She'll do amazingly. I'm so proud of her.
Verity, ruthless in both her fashion and her mastery over the basic emotion of fear. Then again, being dead for MOACA knows how long I'm sure is bound to give you a few ideas. Yet in spite of all of her little tricks could not be a better eldest sister to everyone I care for. She's ambitious, as one way to put it. Whenever one of her younger siblings are feeling down she's always the first to see something is wrong, and the amount of credit card debt I myself have because of her little trips to the mall, or 'maul' in her case, is somehow worth it.
Éved, wise and everything a big brother should be. He's funny, kind, and extremely curious about modern culture to the point of asking both Verity and Toffy to put an outfit together for him a while back. He's always trying to make everyone around him feel welcomed, losing family because of the uncontrollable will do that to you, I suppose. The amount of gags he's made with the Cursed Clay throughout the years I've known him is staggering. Even today, his little puppet shows get a chuckle out of Stella when she's feeling down. I hear he's trying to rebuild his hometown from the literal ground up.
Freyja, a true princess in all things but a misguided heart. Loyal, soft, caring to those around her and always with a smile on her face while she helps. Undoubtedly Verity's favorite to dress up whenever she has the chance, words can't describe how happy she was when Rosa gave her a little makeover, turns out the modern gothic style fits the 'elven snow princess' aesthetic quite well. I think Rosa calls the style "Emu"? I'll have to ask her again. And also, the amount of times she, Stella, Mary-Anne, Remus and I have all broken out in random songs still makes me chuckle today. She's married these days. Arranged, but we all do our best to visit whenever we can.
Jackal, he's a sweet boy. He might be quiet, but perhaps that's because he has trouble knowing exactly what to say. If there's one way to describe Jackal to all who don't know him, it would be "Kindness" along with "Hard working". I just wish he wouldn't be so hard on himself for not being considered "The strongest". He is definitely the most passionate about the things he enjoys, even if those two things mainly consist of "fighting" and "cooking with mom". Still though, under all the tough exterior and the scary facade is still my son who I wish the best for. Plus, everyone already knows, nothing helped him feel better than Mary-Anne scratching his ears.
Remus, the family's local songwriter and youngest fashionista, the grand standing dandy if you will. He will not take anyone's jokes behind his back, mainly because he can already hear it all through his threads. His passion for the music he writes makes me and his mother smile every time we see him play and sing with his mask off. It always feels like he's finally free with it off. He is very open about who he is on the inside already, but it's nice to know he also has a self-found medium for everything else. I think he still has the little drawing Stella made for him when she was 10, and he 16. I believe that these days he's actually engaged to his boyfriend. Congratulations, son.
Logan, the best leader my children could possibly have. He's always the first of them all to run in whenever somebody needs help and I will always respect that about my youngest son. He also has multiple loves for multiple subjects that he will gladly tell you all about. Science, geology, magic mechanics, different comic strips, cartoons, anything he discovers he remembers forever, and yet he always remains curious no matter what. He's not afraid to tell you how smart he is either, however, but we love him for it. He's an amazing teacher to those who need it most. Actually, I think that's how he ended up in that loving relationship with two girls, who also seem to love each other. I forget the term for it but I'm always happy that my family is happy for themselves, and I hope that curiosity never dies as he moves towards his dreams with them both by his side.
Toffy, you wish to speak of curiosity? Oh dear, does Toffy not only have the curiosity in machinery and medicines to make any of the greatest minds of our time sweat bullets, but enough energy that would make a golden retriever tired just by looking at her. She's always working on something to keep herself occupied and to give herself a challenge, and her inventions usually lead to a couple of wacky hijinks, but we love how unpredictable she can be. One day it could be a phone case with a set of working batwings, the next its a medicine that makes someone's hair come to life, and the next is a flying drone resembling chicken nuggets. Herself, Logan and Remus, what a trio of goofballs. And the fact that, like the rest of her siblings, she uses this curiosity and these inventions for kindness speaks volumes to her character as far as I'm concerned. I hear she hopes to start her own technology company when she graduates from her little Magic College. MOACA knows she'll knock them all dead.
I will not neglect to mention the amount of cousins alone this family has is still staggering to me. The Creed itself just started with about 15 people and nearly reached triple digits alone. We love them all as part of the family, but by MOACA's name, should I list them all, these files would go on forever.
But most importantly,
MARY-ANNE ELIZABETH HEART.
The one love of my life I honestly couldn't see myself being able to live without. Every time she is in front of me again, it feels as though the horrors of the past never happened, there is only now. I love the way she smiles and brightens up any room she's in. I love the way she laughs and sounds like angels singing a chorus. I love the way she shows compassion to everyone around and calls them all "Sweetheart". I adore the passion she had for food and the way she gets excited at capturing a new beast she's never cooked before. I love that we both made a "Beast Encyclopedia" where I give a biological breakdown of each beast and she, a new recipe for the public to never waste a single part of the beast. I love the way my heart races, not when I see her in a nice dress, but when I see her, Mary-Anne, not the Queen of Hearts everyone screams in terror of, Mary-Anne, the same Mary-Anne I have waltzed with at least once a day since we were married and never once did I feel my love for her fade. One look into her eyes just made me feel like I was simply me and she was but herself.
I think that's one of the grand ideas of family. Family means the people who help you feel "normal", with lack of a better phrase. They help you feel as if you belong, but are not afraid to announce your mistakes. Family helps you discover who you are.
My friend, I leave you with this message; life is difficult. I understand. But take it from an old man, do not despair. No point in letting those little voices win. And days will range, but they all bring something new. Bad days bring lessons, Good days bring a smile, the best of days bring memories, and sometimes it does take a rainstorm to bring the best sunsets you'll ever see. Family will more than likely offer a hand in finding that sunset or rainbow at the end of the storm, but what matters most is being able to call yourself "family" somewhere down the line. One day, after multiple tomorrows, the act of living will surely become more than a simple hobby.
Oh, and if by chance you happen to come across any sort of door where it shouldn't belong with a sign on it with the name "Anamdead's Contracts and Such", feel more than free to stop by and say hello.