The Ashen Story

The arena shimmered to life once more, and Kaito charged.

He knew Roland's full arsenal now, every vile trick the phantom knight possessed. Yet again, Roland began with a shimmering defense: the Aegis of the Ashen Saint. It manifested as a divine barrier, a perfect, translucent bubble that surrounded Roland, seemingly impenetrable. Kaito unleashed a furious barrage, Durandal a whirlwind of divine steel. He struck relentlessly, aiming for any perceived weakness, pouring all his strength and burgeoning power into each blow. 

No matter how relentless or how strong his attacks, he simply couldn't damage the barrier. Durandal's divine might, which had cleaved through so much, merely glanced off its reinforced surface.

The battle swiftly ended. With a sudden, overwhelming shield bash, delivered a crushing blow that caved Kaito's skull in. The world exploded into white, and he reset once more.

Kaito found himself back on the familiar spot, the phantom ache of defeat lingering. Of all Roland's infuriating weapons, it was the shield that truly frustrated him. An impenetrable defense.

"That damn shield," Kaito muttered, still rubbing his forehead as if to ease the phantom pain. "You said it was the Aegis of the Ashen Saint. The Order, the one Elara belongs to... it's also named after an 'Ashen Saint,' isn't it? Who is this Ashen Saint, Durandal?"

Durandal's voice was softer than usual, a subtle shift from her usual exuberance, as if the topic held a quiet reverence even for her. "Indeed, Kaito. The Order of the Ashen Saint. A very old lineage. The Ashen Saint... they were a true paradox."

"Even I am unsure of their true identity," Durandal admitted, a rare note of uncertainty in her voice. "Whether they were a man or a woman, it was never truly clear. Though, given their other epithet was 'The Ashen Witch,' it was most likely a woman."

"She rose to prominence long before I was even forged, in the aftermath of a terrible pestilence that nearly destroyed civilization at the time. The Ashen Saint was renowned as a healer, credited with developing a cure for the blight. Yet, tragically, she was later burned alive as a scapegoat for reasons lost to time. It was a cruel fate for someone who saved so many."

Durandal paused, reflecting. "The Order you speak of, was born later on. It began as a split within the early church's ideology, a group that saw the injustice and used the Ashen Saint as their symbol, their guiding light. They sought to preserve her true legacy and methods."

"Honestly," Durandal mused, a touch of surprise in her tone, "I'm quite amazed they still exist today. When I was with Roland, the Order seemed to be on its last legs, with less than a dozen members. They appeared to be in the midst of dissolving, or perhaps, attempting some desperate form of improvement. It seems they managed to pull themselves back from the brink."

Kaito absorbed Durandal's tale, a grim frown creasing his brow. A healer burned as a witch, a secret Order born from defiance...

"Why isn't any of this recorded in history?" Kaito asked, his voice low, a mix of disbelief and growing unease. "If she saved civilization, why is her story, and the Order's, so hidden?"

Durandal hummed, a thoughtful, almost wistful sound. "History, Kaito, is often written by the victors, or those who benefit from a convenient narrative. Perhaps the truths of that era were too inconvenient, too challenging to the prevailing powers of the time." She paused, then continued, her tone shifting. "The blight itself... even I do not know its full nature, but I remember some of the symptoms that was recorded."

"Some would develop an extreme, irrational fear of water. They couldn't stand the sight or touch of it. To sate their thirst, they'd resort to extreme measures, drinking only milk, blood, or wine."

"Some even began to take on animalistic appearances," Durandal added. "Growing coarse furs, animal ears, scale or even horns. There were numerous other symptoms too, but these two were the most notable, the ones most widely observed and recorded. But regardless of their physical changes, they all eventually lost their sanity and lashed out, becoming nothing more than ravening monsters."

Kaito's eyes widened, connecting the dots. "Doesn't that sound like... vampires and werewolves?" he asked, a chilling thought forming. "Were those diseases responsible for their tales too?"

Durandal's voice was firm, denying the connection. "Oh, the Bloodkin and the Lycan? No, Kaito. They existed a long time before the disease, though it was a terrible time for them. They were often at war with humanity, as a result of the symptom similarity, people thought they were responsible for the disease. It led to even more widespread hunting and persecution of their kind."

"Do they... still exist now?" Kaito asked, a new layer of the supernatural world unfolding before him.

Durandal gave an ethereal shrug. "Probably. The Bloodkins, especially the more powerful ones, are pretty much immortal. They can even reincarnate themselves if their soul feels like it. The Lycans are a bit more... biological, but resilient. The world is full of hidden things, Kaito. Far more than you know."

Kaito sat in silence for a moment, processing everything. A hidden history, ancient blights, immortal creatures. It was a lot to take in.

"Alright, Durandal," he finally said, rubbing his eyes. "That's enough for tonight's history lesson. I think my brain's full."

"As you wish, Kaito," she replied, her voice fading slightly as the dream realm began to dissolve around him. "Rest well. You'll need it."

_______________________________________________________________

Kaito opened his eyes to the familiar, if sparse, interior of the church's guest room. The morning light filtered through the window, softer than the digital glare of the arena. He pushed himself off the cot, the familiar dull ache of his body now mixed with a subtle hum of newly acquired magical knowledge. He stretched, readying himself to help with the church chores, a small, comforting routine in his increasingly extraordinary life.

As he stepped out of the room, he was greeted not by Elara or Lily, but by an unfamiliar figure. A tall man, easily six feet two inches, built like a brick house, stood in the hallway, his presence filling the space. He had a stern, weathered face, but his eyes held a surprising warmth.

"Good morning," the man rumbled, extending a large, calloused hand. "You must be Kaito. I'm Father Gideon." His handshake was firm, a grip of surprising gentle.

Elara emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. "Kaito, this is Father Gideon," she introduced, a hint of reverence in her tone. "Despite his casual attitude, he's a high-ranking member of the Order of the Ashen Saint."

"High-ranking? Hardly, Sister Elara. Mid-ranker at best. And I'm partially retired now," Father Gideon chuckled, his eyes twinkling with an almost paternal amusement as he met Kaito's gaze. The casual greeting then transitioned into something more direct. "I've read the reports, Kaito Tanaka. You truly intend to challenge the Circle? To risk your life for someone who is, by all accounts, a stranger to you?"

Kaito met his stare, his grip instinctively tightening on his side where Durandal rested. "Yes," he affirmed, his voice firm, leaving no room for doubt.

A nostalgic smile touched Father Gideon's lips. "Youth," he murmured, almost to himself. "I remember a time when I, too, made such fervent declarations. Similar experiences, though perhaps on a slightly different scale." He clapped Kaito gently on the shoulder, the touch surprisingly light for such a large man. "Consider this a test, then. A way to see if you're all talk, or if your conviction truly carries the weight of the blade you wield."

Kaito's jaw tightened. No further words were needed. He understood. This wasn't a challenge of strength, not yet. It was a challenge of will.

Father Gideon gestured towards a door leading to the back garden. Kaito followed him into the enclosed space, bordered by high stone walls and a few ancient trees. They stopped in the center, facing each other.

With a practiced movement, Father Gideon produced a small, unassuming bottle from beneath his robes. It seemed to contain nothing more than clear water. He uncorked it, then trickled a thin stream onto the ground, tracing an invisible circle around them. As he did so, he spoke, his voice resonating with ancient power: "Sanctuarium."

A soft, golden light pulsed across the ground, just once, before immediately fading and disappearing as if nothing had happened. The air, however, felt different—thicker, yet strangely serene.

"Nothing will interrupt us now, Kaito," Father Gideon stated, his voice calm but resolute. "And worry not about injuries. The sanctification will ensure no lasting harm. Go all out."

As Kaito stepped into the sanctified circle, he immediately noticed it: the lingering physical fatigue from the dream realm, the mental exhaustion of countless deaths, even the phantom aches of Roland's recent blows – all gone. Even his injuries, seemed to have vanished completely. Amazed, Kaito quickly pushed the thought aside, focusing his senses at Father Gideon in front of him.

He wasted no time. With a surge of newfound clarity, Kaito casted a spell, feeling a burst of supernatural agility imbue his limbs. He then lunged, Durandal a silver blur, aimed at Father Gideon. The large man stood unarmed, without even a defensive stance, yet Kaito's blitz of attacks, a whirlwind of precise cuts and thrusts, was casually dodged. Each attempt to strike was met with a simple, almost dismissive tap of Father Gideon's knuckle against Durandal's flat.

Kaito shifted, pressing his assault. He feigned a wide slash, then spun into a powerful punch with his free hand, aiming for Gideon's chest. It connected not with flesh, but with Durandal, as the old man somehow pivoted and used the divine blade to block Kaito's own strike. The impact sent Kaito reeling backward, stumbling several paces before regaining his balance.

Father Gideon simply offered a warm smile. "More skilled than I expected, Kaito Tanaka."

Kaito attacked again, from every angle, using every trick he'd learned, but it was all to no avail. Father Gideon moved with an effortless grace that belied his massive build, constantly just out of reach, his defenses impenetrable. Frustration mounted, but Kaito quickly suppressed it.

With a surge of conviction and a new, better mastery born from his heightened status, Kaito channeled Durandal's full power. The familiar, all-consuming darkness emerged around him, swirling ominously, while Durandal herself began to shine brightly, cutting through the gloom.

Father Gideon's smile widened. "Oh ho! Using your trump card already? You caused quite a major disturbance over London with your last light show, you know."

Durandal struck, a focused beam of holy power aimed directly at Father Gideon. But unexpectedly, the radiant light and enveloping darkness dissipated instantly as Father Gideon calmly reached out and caught the divine blade itself – not the hilt, but the shining, empowered blade – with just his thumb, index, and middle finger.

Kaito tried to continue thrusting it forward, tried to pull it back, but the blade wouldn't budge. It was as if it were set in stone, held effortlessly by a simple grip.

Father Gideon let go, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "The test is over, Kaito." He nodded slowly. "That would be enough to challenge the Circle, although perhaps not to a complete victory. You still have a chance."

He reached into his robe again, producing a new cross, similar in shape to the one Elara had given Kaito, but this one gleamed with a vibrant, new gold color. He tossed it to Kaito, who caught it by instinct.

"It's like a phone," Father Gideon explained. "You can use that to contact me directly if you're ever truly in trouble. A last resort, understand? I'll save you, if it comes to it. Although the Order doesn't care, I do. Your potential is too high to be wasted by getting yourself killed."

Just then, Elara came over, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She gently took the golden cross from Kaito's hand. "And I'll add my contact information too," she said, a warm smile on her face. "If you ever just want to chat, you can always reach me."