"You have shown your perspicacity. You have the guts, the bravery, and the determination to thrive. This training you're doing will be your foundation. So go in and come out stronger. We will be right here once you do."
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|DxD|- Chapter 67- Spirit Nurturing
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Words…a little thing that seemed simple, yet could do more harm than a dagger, and heal more than the most magical spring. Igor stood at the door outside his mother's room, Baraquiel's words repeating over and over in his head.
'Go in and come out stronger. We will be right here once you do.'
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The world outside was dark with the harshest winter cold, yet this tomb was bathed in the gentlest never-ending spring. The flowers spread their scent across this little world where the skies were always bright.
Igor's hand lingered on the doorknob. His fingers brushed against the gold, yet never gripping. He didn't know if he'd have the strength to leave his mother once he saw her.
"Sigh…"
He took a deep breath, and twisted the handle. He was greeted by the scent of jasmine and incense. Seraphine lay unmoving on her bed, her ethereal beauty still commanding even in her eternal slumber.
"Evening, mother."
He spoke softly. His feet carried him to her side where his hand found hers.
"Sorry for coming late today. I was held up for a bit."
Her hand, even though cold, gave him much needed solace and composure. He lowered himself to his knees and once more took in the beauty of the flower that wilted for him.
His free hand rose to caress her cheek, his eyes holding her with a deep intensity. He committed every blemish of her skin to memory, and traced every curve of her face with his hand. His thumb trailed her hairline, only for her forehead to be stained by a drop of water.
"What…?"
Igor croaked and almost coughed. His throat was dry and his cheeks felt wet. His finger traced them and he realised what happened.
"I'm…crying?"
He couldn't believe it at first. He pulled back and put both hands on his face. To his astonishment, the wetness indeed came from his eyes. He wiped his face and blinked them away. He chuckled briefly at this sudden surprise.
"Sorry, mother. I have shown you weakness."
The last time he cried had been…years ago. He never shed a tear in over four years. So why was it happening now? He shook his head.
"I came here to say goodbye, mother. I will be going into the chamber for training. Aunt Shuri will keep you company while I'm gone. I trust her so please know you will be taken care of."
There were so many words he wished to say, but he didn't have the strength. His voice was wavering and his breathing was laboured. Igor looked to the side to gather himself, his chest slowly rising and falling until his heart followed in sync.
"I must leave now, mother. I will be back in a year, so please watch over this family while I am gone. And know I do this willingly."
He leaned over and pressed his forehead against her lips. He lingered for a moment, ingraining this little moment into the depths of his heart. It was only after what felt like an eternity did he have the resolve to stand up straight.
He looked down at her, not from a position of overbearance, but as a son who knew it would be another lifetime before he could see her again. His hand layered over hers for the last time. There was a solemnity in his gaze masked by tenderness and love.
"Don't count the days, mother. I will be back very soon. And when I do, I hope you'll be proud of me."
Rings of white light surrounded him. The glow slowly brightened as more and more wisps of light formed. His body glowed from head to foot like the stars in the sky.
The chamber opened its doors for him and he entered, leaving behind his last parting words that lingered where he once stood.
"I love you."
A small hourglass was nestled between Seraphina's palms. It was his anchor to the world and his solace in knowing that no matter what difficulties he faced, his mother would always hold him.
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|DxD|
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Time Chamber, One Week Later, One Week Since Entry
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Spirit Nurturing was truly one of the most incomprehensible training methods, yet could also be outlandishly straightforward at the same time. A spirit is a union of the body and soul, two channels of water pooling into one well known as the mind.
Nurturing a strong spirit was a very simple affair, at least upfront. For the body, intense training and conditioning was enough. With the power of vitality, Igor had that in droves. Even amongst other mid-class, he wagered he was at the top percentile just in physique alone. That was his confidence in his sheer brute strength.
Igor relaxed atop the hourglass, gazing at the endless expanse with his fist supporting his cheek. Over a week had passed since his arrival, and just for today, he chose to take it easy and refine his next steps. His eyes washed over the horizon, his mind churning in thought.
Strengthening a soul had no direct training methods. It wasn't like a muscle that could be improved according to the training manual.
"To forge a strong soul, one must weather the winds of the world."
Igor muttered absently. It was a passage from the manual. A soul was like a rock. If protected, nothing would happen to it. But left exposed, it would bear the full brunt of the burning sun and frosty nights. Its nakedness to the harsh winds and relentless rains would chip it bit by bit. But if the rock can endure, it will regrow stronger than before.
Ever since he first killed that serpent stray devil when he was thirteen, he'd willingly thrust himself into the ruthless supernatural world, seeing and learning of things that made one's heart waver. His blade had severed many heads and his hands had ripped out still-beating hearts from the chests of their owners.
His eyes were not bright like those his age. Touji had said it and it still brought a chuckle to him. But honestly, Igor never believed his eyes were once bright. Perhaps in that illusion world, they were. In reality? Not once. But every negative had a positive. His hardships had given him a strong soul and mind. He could feel it.
He'd learned the last echoes of the third training manual and in all terms, he'd entered a waiting period he had no control over. Or maybe he did? He wasn't quite sure.
"Think, Igor. Think."
He closed his eyes. The cover of the manual felt rough in his calloused hands. Every word inside had been perfectly memorised from back to back. There was no further solution to his current dilemma besides waiting.
The biggest reason he could infer was his age. But that didn't make sense. The soul wasn't alcohol that had to ferment. It was an iron pillar that stood tall without fear of rust.
Igor was determined to hasten the nurturing of his spirit. Because if the current rate continued, it really might take seven years like he mentioned to Baraquiel. He wouldn't have that. He didn't leave his family to sit around.
AN: I really, really don't want to ruin the moment here, but I have questions. To my knowledge, top percentile means top 1 percent. I don't know if it's me, but I don't think a physique at the top 1 percent of the mid-class bracket could be stabbed by a…you know? But that's just my take. Unless Liu Xin's blade had supernatural properties? Because his supposedly goated physique couldn't handle a little stab.
Chapter 67
END