A New Awakening

Kaito's eyes fluttered open to an unfamiliar ceiling—high-arched, made of dark, aged wood, with faint carvings he couldn't quite discern in the dim light. A sharp jolt of memory, fragments of a brutal fight, a searing pain, and a whispered contract, flooded his mind. He bolted upright, his breath catching in his throat.

Footsteps echoed from outside the room, and Kaito tensed, his body still screaming with phantom pain but his instincts on high alert. The door creaked open, revealing a young blonde girl, no older than ten, dressed in a pristine white nun's habit. Her eyes, wide with amazement, fixed on him. The pile of folded towels she carried slipped from her grasp, scattering across the wooden floor.

"He's awake!" she shrieked, a joyful, astonished sound, before turning and bolting down the hall. "Big sis! The stranger is awake!"

Kaito, still disoriented but driven by an inexplicable urge to understand, pushed himself off the cot. His body still felt heavy, but the agonizing wound in his chest was gone, replaced by a dull ache. He walked out into a larger space, the architecture confirming his initial suspicion: he was in an old church, its interior simple but radiating a quiet, ancient peace.

"You shouldn't be up so soon, child." A calm, warm voice called out. A sisterly nun, with kind, tired eyes and blonde hair peeking from beneath her veil, approached him. "How are you feeling?"

"Who... who are you?" Kaito managed, his voice raspy.

The nun smiled gently, gesturing towards a simple wooden table where a bowl of steaming broth sat. "You must be starving. Come, eat first. We can talk after."

Kaito, surprisingly, found himself incredibly hungry. He sat, the nun watching him with a serene patience as he devoured the simple but nourishing meal. When the bowl was empty, a faint warmth spreading through his limbs, the nun spoke again.

"You have been unconscious for three days," she mused, to Kaito shock.

"My name is Elara," she introduced herself, her voice soft but firm. "And I belong to the Order of the Ashen Saint." She paused, her gaze steady. "The man you fought, the wizard... he belongs to a rival organization, the Veiled Circle. You, Kaito Tanaka, are now the wielder of Durandal. And we would be honored if you were to join us."

Kaito stared at her, the reality of her words slowly sinking in. "And... what if I don't?" he asked, a flicker of defiance in his voice.

Elara's smile remained. "Nothing. We respect those chosen by the divine blade, regardless of the circumstances. Your path, Kaito, is ultimately your own."

"Then why did you save me?" Kaito pressed, bewildered. "If not for recruitment, then why put yourselves at risk?"

Elara's serene expression remained, but a mischievous glint entered her eyes. "To piss off those heretics, of course." She said it with such a straight face, Kaito almost thought she was joking. "Durandal would have been nice for the Order to secure, with or without you, yes. But all of that is secondary to messing with those heretics. They absolutely hate being outmaneuvered, especially by us."

Kaito blinked, utterly bewildered by the blunt and almost childish response from a nun. He must have looked completely lost, because Elara continued, answering his unspoken question.

"You see, the rivalry between our Order and the Circle has spanned since antiquity. Back then, there was constant conflict, endless bloodshed. Eventually, the leaders on both sides decided to reach an iron bound peace deal, but the hatred... it still remains. It's become our culture at this point. A part of who we are. It's a very old grudge let say."

Kaito pieced the situation together, the absurd casualness of Elara's answers clashing with the gravity of what he'd witnessed. "So, what did that wizard want with Durandal, then?" he asked, trying to find some logical thread in the madness.

Elara shrugged lightly, a gesture surprisingly unbefitting a nun. "Oh, I don't really know, Kaito. The higher-ups say those heretics want to return to the Age of Myth. Apparently, the environment back then was 'easier to nurture magic' and allowed them to 'cast more powerful spells.' Not entirely sure on the details myself, but who really cares? What matters is ruining their days."

Kaito stared, bewildered by her nonchalance. He then remembered Maria, the desperate look in her eyes as he'd pushed her away. "Maria," he began, his voice tight. "Was she rescued too? Is she here?"

Elara's expression didn't change. "No. She's likely dead by now." Kaito flinched. "Those fellows in suits, they tend to commit suicide for no reason when captured. Probably some sort of mental imprint or command they carry."

A cold dread settled in Kaito's stomach. "I... I have to go back for her," he choked out, pushing himself slightly from the table.

Elara raised a hand, her voice firm but not unkind. "Why bother? It would be suicide, Kaito. You wouldn't stand a ghost of a chance."

Kaito knew she was right. His newfound power felt fleeting, clumsy, and utterly inadequate compared to the raw force he'd faced. He slumped back, desperation bubbling. "Then... will you help me? The Order? If I join you, will you help me get her back?"

Elara merely shook her head. "No. We've already secured Durandal, just by getting you out of there. Why would we go to the Circle? Let them come to us. Besides, Kaito, from our records, you only just knew her for a few days. Why are you so insistent? Have you been brainwashed by their psychic methods or something?"

Kaito clenched his fists, the dull ache in his chest now a hollow throb of resolve. "No," he said, his voice low but fierce. "I... I failed someone before. Someone important. And I won't do so again, even if they are a complete stranger. Not when I finally have a chance to change things. Not when I'm not completely powerless anymore."

Elara scoffed, a dry, almost cynical sound. "Don't misunderstand, Kaito. Durandal is powerful, yes. But compared to the titled wizard you fought... it's laughably weak. A low-level clone only shared around two percent of the original's power. The one you defeated was maybe six percent. Even if the original isn't in Britain, even if it's just his clones and other mages, you still wouldn't be enough." She leaned forward. "The Order isn't in a condition where we can help, even if we wanted to. We don't usually operate in Britain. This was an opportunistic strike, nothing more."

"Your Order has been around for a long time then, right?" Kaito asked, trying to grasp the scale of things. "Why don't you have a stronger foothold here in Britain, then, if you're so ancient and powerful?"

Elara's smile faded slightly, replaced by a more sober expression. "It's mostly out of fear, you see. A powerful being resides on this land. Too much chaos, too much overt magical warfare, and they... awake, if a bit grumbly. Both the Order and the Circle would have to get on their knees and beg for mercy if they don't want to be obliterated." She shrugged again. "Not sure how true it is, but it's what's kept both sides from truly escalating things here for centuries. It's what it is."

She then looked at Kaito, her eyes softening almost imperceptibly. "You can get your revenge, Kaito. After a few years of training, if you join us. Regret can be a powerful motivator," she said casually, as if offering a simple truth.

Kaito only sat in silence, the weight of her words settling heavily upon him. Powerful as he might be now with Durandal, he still felt so utterly powerless.