Adair the Vincible

(This is the story of how Adair came to be in his current situation. Takes place before Voltaire's story, but it was in a contest which is why it didn't get posted first.)

Adair the Vincible

The guild was a mess, really. Tucked away inside a hollow tree big enough to house a hydra, just as much greenery decorated the interior as weapons and prized monster skins. Dusty sunlight filtered through the deliberate cracks and holes. Rag-tag people were scampering up and down the tree, laughing and chattering. The Gale family would be appalled by such disorder.

Adair Gale could not helped but be amazed by the place, though. His azure eyes stared above to the stairs, carved out of the wood itself, that spiraled up, up, up. His scarlet hair clashed with his powder-blue ascot and cobalt armor.

“Adair. Hey Adaaaair,” drawled Voltaire beside him, absentmindedly working on some contraption. Many such projects laid about the lair. One would have thought that he owned the place by the amount of junk he had lying around, but he was just one of many Hunters.

“Huh? What was that, ‘Taire?” Adair asked, turning to Voltaire. His golden-haired friend sighed and put down his half-done work.

“I said, what does it mean to be a true hero?” Voltaire repeated, as he swatted away some of the excess pollen in the air. “I mean, aren‘t you a hero already? What’s the difference, besides that you can join guilds outside your family?”

“A true hero,” Adair began, taking a deep breath. “One who is fearless in danger, one who administers justice without bias, one who -”

“I don’t want the Gale definition,” Voltaire interrupted, his tone annoyed. “I want your definition.”

“That is my definition.”

“No it’s not. It’s your stupid family’s.”

“My family isn’t stupid!”

“…Yeah, I guess not,” replied Voltaire. “They’re uptight, snobbish, and controlling instead. Tell me again why me and my guild can‘t come to your birthday rite?”

“It’s the Coming-of-Age Clarent Ceremony,” Adair clarified, folding his arms. “And you can‘t come because only adult members of the Gale family can attend.”

“What about me, Fiery?” asked a childish voice, as a small yellow phoenix flew down from above and landed on Adair‘s shoulder. “Can I come? Can I come?”

“My name’s Adair,” the redhead corrected, knowing that the little bird would continue to use the nickname anyway. It came from his bright hair color. “And you’re a firebird demon, Ava. My family slays demons, remember?”

“Oh,” Ava said sadly, her slender head drooping a little. “But I’m Fiery’s friend.”

“Whatever. You’re just trying to steal a heart with your cute talk,” Voltaire said, poking at the golden avian. “You demons are all the same. Human hearts are power to you, because you don‘t have hearts yourselves. The more people that give their hearts to you and believe in you, the more power you get.”

“At least I don‘t steal them like other meanie monsters,” replied the little phoenix proudly. “But I really am Fiery’s friend! And yours too, Volty! Why don‘t you believe me?”

“I don’t keep you here because I’m your friend,” Voltaire replied. “I keep you here because you and your firebird feathers are worth a lot.”

“But I’m your friend!” Ava chirped, flying over to Voltaire. She landed on his shoulder and began grooming his long hair with her beak.

“Stop that!” Voltaire protested, shooing the little golden bird away only to have her land on his head instead. “Anyway, how does this ceremony work, Adair?”

“Can‘t tell you. I‘ve never been to one,” admitted Adair, rubbing the back of his head. “Like I said, no one underage or outside the Gale family is allowed to watch. I tried to get my older brothers to tell me about it, but they wouldn‘t say a word.”

“So as far as you know you’re gonna have to dance around a huge fire wearing only a grass skirt, singing some mumbo-jumbo,” Voltaire mused, smirking.

“That sounds fun!” chimed in Ava.

“It’s not going to be anything as barbaric as that!” snapped Adair.

“How do you know that it’s not?” countered Voltaire.

“Well if all you’re going to do is insult my bloodline, then I’m just going to leave,” growled Adair, heading for the exit.

“Don’t leave, Fiery!” pleaded Ava, gliding over to Adair. “Volty’s only a meanie on the outside!”

“Actually I‘m a meanie on the inside too,” added Voltaire with a smirk, turning his attention back to his latest work-in-progress. “Anyway, good luck with the ceremony Adair. We’ve got a spot reserved for you at the guild when you’ve become an official true hero or whatever. Consider it a birthday present.”

Adair paused in the sunlight, and then smiled despite himself.

“Thanks, ‘Taire.”
______

Adair passed through the mouth of the family gate, the pale blue marble monument as impressive and imposing as ever. It seemed even more massive today, perhaps because of his nervousness…but he couldn’t afford to be nervous here. True heroes did not get nervous.

Beyond the magnificent gate was the rose garden, not a flower or a leaf out of place. Two of his older brothers waited at the fountain at the center, donned in cobalt armor like he was. Their smiles were as perfect as the hero statutes that lined the sides of the garden.

“Jeffery! Daniel!” Adair greeted cheerfully, hurrying over to them. “It’s been so long! How have you been?”

“I see you’re as lively as ever,” replied Jeffery, the eldest brother. His cool gaze went straight through Adair, almost as if he wasn’t there.

“We were hoping you had matured more, to be honest,” said Daniel with a smirk that didn‘t reach his eyes. “Are you sure you’re ready for the Clarent ceremony, Adair?”

“Of course I am! I‘m eighteen now!” Adair answered proudly, his back straightening.

“True, though your mental age is questionable,” stated Jeffery. “Then again, perhaps that makes this ceremony all the more necessary.”

“What do you mean?” asked Adair.

“That‘s true, Jeffery. I didn’t understand what it meant to be an adult until I went through the Clarent ceremony myself,” Daniel said with a calm smile. “Adair’s still a kid right now.”

“Hey!”

“See? Look at how he reacts to a simple truth,” Daniel pointed out, smirking.

Adair glared to the side. He supposed he still was a child, letting his emotions get the better of him like that. He needed to control himself more. Impulses could be saved for when he was horsing around with Voltaire and his guild on adventures. That was when he usually ran into Voltaire anyway, while he was on quests or adventures. Heroes and Hunters often crossed paths.

“Enough of this pointless talk,” said Jeffery, walking past the fountain. “Let’s go.”

“Right,” answered Daniel, his expression quickly turning somber. “Come, brother.”

“Uh, right…” Adair replied, soon following his two siblings. The formal address had caught him off-guard. Daniel had never called him brother before. Bro, ’Dair, or Squirt, sure, but never brother. It felt strange. Jeffery had always been uptight even when he was younger, but Daniel had been the unruly one.

His brothers were so mature now. He really did have a long way to go if he wanted to be a proper outstanding Gale, one who carried King Arthur’s ancient blood. The demon-slaying he was good at. If only he was as good at slaying his desires...

A true Gale could not afford to fall prey to their emotions. That was how people lost their hearts.

______

The ceremonial room was glorious. Then again, it was always glorious. The walls were gilded with white gold and lined with sapphires, while the floor was made up of ebony and ivory tiles arrayed in a checkered pattern. Upon the domed ceiling were paintings of fabled battles, showing handsome heroes slaying terrible flamboyant beasts. There were no windows, so everything was lit with candles and torches instead.

All the Gales were there, and each one turned to Adair with serene gazes. Some were blondes, others were brown-haired like Daniel, still others were black-haired like Jeffery, and a few were redheads like him. The blue of their formal outfits and armor made them seem like a sea, waiting for him to enter.

“Ah Adair, so you come at last,” greeted Bastion Gale, a golden-haired man with a slightly darker beard and much darker eyes. The other Gales parted to make way for him.

“Father,” Adair spoke, kneeling with his brothers.

“Come, what are you doing?” Bastion asked with an amused look. “Stand straight. This is your day, not mine.”

“Ah, right,” Adair replied, rising to meet his father‘s gaze. He felt uncomfortable being at eye level. He and his siblings were raised by servants, not by their parents.

“Nervous?” asked Bastion.

“…Maybe a little,” admitted Adair, sensing all the others’ observant stares. His brothers had receded into the sea of Gales.

Bastion laughed and patted Adair on the shoulder. The scarlet-haired Gale jumped at the unexpected casual contact, and then let out a humbler chuckle of his own. Voltaire would probably be laughing at his ridiculous nervousness if he was here…he wondered if that would make him feel better or worse.

“Honest as ever, my son. I like that,” Bastion said, smiling. “A trait of a true hero, which you soon shall be. Now, to the throne with you.”

“T-The throne?” questioned Adair. Usually the throne, a gilded piece with silken backing, was reserved for his father. He and his brothers had gotten severely punished once for even playing around it.

“Yes, that throne,” Bastion confirmed, leading Adair toward the golden chair. He appeared amused at Adair’s reaction, as did some of the other Gales. “You and your brothers were banned from it when you were children, and now you can finally be in it.”

Adair gingerly sat down in the throne. It wasn’t as comfortable as it looked.

“Oh yes, it seems a little firebird demon followed you here,” added Bastion. “I believe it belongs to your friend.”

“Eh?”

Two other Gales rolled in a gilded cage with Ava inside. Adair stared, and then groaned inwardly.

“Meanies! I just wanted to see Fiery’s ceremony! Fiery is my friend!” she declared, before noticing Adair in the throne. “Oh, hi Fiery! Volty says hi too!”

“I’m sure he does,” replied Adair, all too aware of the other Gales disapproving looks. “Was this his idea to have you follow me?”

“Volty said I could have extra fruit later if I did,” Ava answered cheerfully.

“…I’ll be having a few words with Volty later,” Adair answered dryly, before turning to his father. “I deeply apologize for this embarrassment. Voltaire doesn’t know how to mind his own business.”

Bastion just chuckled.

“You inspire such loyalty, Adair. Another invaluable trait,” he stated. “Since Voltaire sent his little firebird all this way, we might as well let her stay. Adair can decide what else to do with it after the ceremony is complete.”

“Yay!” shouted Ava, hopping up and down in her cage. “I get to watch! I get to watch!”

Adair blew a sigh of relief. It was a good thing that Voltaire was part of such a high-class guild, or else he wouldn’t be able to get away with nearly as much as he did…still, this was oddly generous for his normally stern father. It made him wonder if Voltaire was going to pay for this later. Adair just hoped Ava would settle down soon and not make too much noise during the ceremony. Already the other Gales were sending her scrutinizing looks.

Bastion turned back to Adair, ignoring Ava’s happy cries. He pulled out an antique silver sword hilt, its base decorated with designs of entwined angel wings. There was no blade.

“This is Clarent,” Bastion stated.

“Clarent?” questioned Adair. “But it‘s just a sword hilt.”

“Is it?” Bastion asked, smirking. Suddenly a pale blue light shot up from the top of the hilt, bathing Adair in cold light. Then the light focused and reformed into a blade-like shape.

“Ooh, it’s pretty!” exclaimed Ava, craning her long neck to see better.

“A sword of light,” Adair breathed, staring at the pale illumination in wonder.

“Well, the technical term is a laser sword,” Bastion explained, eyeing the light-blade himself. “Possibly the first ever made. They‘re rare even now.”

He swiftly stabbed Adair in the shoulder. Adair cried out, heart suddenly racing.

“Fiery!” Ava yelled.

His father chuckled lowly.

“You really are a bundle of nerves today, aren’t you?”

Adair slowly opened his eyes. There was Clarent, embedded deep into his shoulder…but there was no blood. It didn’t even hurt. All he felt was a slight tingling where the laser blade was. Adair lifted his hand to touch the mythical sword, only to have his fingers pass through it.

“Clarent cannot hurt the flesh,” Bastion explained, withdrawing the sword from Adair’s shoulder and then passing it through his own neck harmlessly. “See?”

“…Truly a sword of peace,” Adair said, laughing. Of course his family wouldn’t hurt him. He knew better. He must have looked like a fool to the other Gales, who remained quiet. Maybe he should run a few laps around the Gale castle after this.

“That was mean,” said Ava, trying to look stern and failing miserably. “Even Volty isn’t that mean.”

“Actually he probably would do something like that,” Adair commented, imagining the said scenario. “Probably would get a good laugh out of it too.”

“Which is one reason why Clarent is kept away from commoners. They would make a farce out of such a sacred weapon,” Bastion added, his expression hardening. “Your reaction was not unusual. Blades are usually designed to wound the body. But Clarent is not like those other swords, which is precisely why it is the sole sword for this purpose. Now…”

Bastion turned the blue laser blade to its side, its edge scarcely thinner than paper.

“Adair Gale,” he began, putting Clarent just above Adair’s shoulder. “Close thee eyes and be still, and I shall free thee from the common bounds...”

Adair did as he was told, his body relaxing except for his pounding heart.

This is it, thought Adair.

“…For I grant thee purity of sight -” - Adair saw blue as he felt Clarent pass through his eyes - “- purity of mind -” - Now he felt it pass through the rest of his head - “- purity of body -” Now Clarent was thrust through the right side of his chest -

I’m going to finally be a true Gale. A true hero.

“- And purity of soul,” Bastion finished, stabbing Adair through the heart.

And I will…cry?

Adair opened his eyes, and found that he was indeed crying. His father and the other Gales showed no reaction to his tears.

…Why am I crying? I’m not sad…Why hasn’t father removed Clarent yet? This…this is starting to hurt…Why does this hurt?

“Fiery looks sick,” said Ava, sounding worried. “Is the ceremony supposed to make him sick?”

The other Gales ignored her, their cool gazes focused on the father and son.

“Father,” Adair spoke, wincing. “Something’s-”

“-And so thee will be the archetype of the just,” Bastion went on, his face impassive despite Adair’s increasing distress. “One who is fearless in danger, one who administers justice without bias, one who defends others without a selfish thought, one who never gives into temptation, one who never pursues thoughtless pleasure, one who never lets the heart’s feelings get in the way of justice.”

“F-Father-”

“-And to prevent the seeds of sin, we shall lay waste to their foul flower.”

Bastion pushed Clarent in deeper. Adair let out a small gasp despite himself.

“Thee heart.”

“My…heart?” Adair rasped, as one burning emotion after another rushed over him. It was as if all his feelings were at war inside him.

“Wait! Fiery has a good heart! Don‘t hurt Fiery!” Ava pleaded, banging her wings against her cage.

“The heart only leads one to their fall,” said Bastion, never turning to Ava. “Gawain, Lancelot, even Adam and Eve were victims of their heart’s emotions and desire. The greatest evils are born of passion and want. We will strip you of such cancerous burdens now.”

“N-no,” Adair croaked, as he felt himself suddenly sad, then suddenly angry, then sudden giddy, all beyond his reason or control. “Stop…”

“Are you afraid of the pain, Adair?” Bastion questioned. “The pain you feel now is nothing compared to what the world will inflict on you otherwise. For the world is a terrible, ugly place filled with falseness. It is better to cast away your heart now than to have its pain corrupt you and keep you from serving your role as a true hero.”

“…W-What are talking about? The world is beautiful,” Adair replied with an slightly mad grin, chuckling from an euphoria that he knew wasn’t real. “I mean, there are a lot of ugly things in it, I know that. But we Gales exist to root out those ugly things, to make this world more beautiful. Why would we be heroes otherwise, if we didn’t want to protect this world? Right father? Jeffery? Daniel? Everyone?”

The Gales all answered him with silent, mature stares. No, not mature…emotionless. Heartless. They were all heartless. Even his own brothers he grew up with, laughed with, went on adventures with…emotionless to his pain. Dead.

“S-Stop looking at me like that…Stop it!” Adair screamed, starting to shake as his emotions transmuted in a toxic typhoon inside him. “This isn’t what I want! Jeffery, Daniel, you never wanted this, did you? You’re my family! Why are you doing this? We’re supposed to care about each other! Didn’t you ever care?”

The Gales remained unmoved. Adair suddenly felt tired, his emotions still tangled but subdued.

“Ha…hahaha…no, you never did, did you?” he continued, feeling his body drooping under the unnatural drowsiness. The only thing keeping him in place was Clarent. “Your hearts are dead. You couldn’t care even if you wanted to…hahahahaha…”

“If it was possible, we would have gotten this over with at your birth,” stated Bastion. “But a child without a heart cannot grow, for children are dependant on illusion. So we must wait until one becomes an adult, when they are strong enough to withstand the ugly reality behind their dreams. But perhaps this is just as well, for one must know how to fit in with the common populace. Otherwise they may reject you and impede your duty.”

“My duty…” Adair answered solemnly. “My…legacy…”

“Stop it! Stop hurting Fiery!” Ava shrieked. “Volty wouldn’t hurt Fiery like this!”

“…’Taire…” Adair murmured, a numbness settling into his mind. “Where are you, ‘Taire? You…wouldn’t let this happen…right?”

His father narrowed his eyes and twisted Clarent in Adair. He cried out, and fresh tears started flowing.

“No one is going to save you,” said Bastion, his gaze cold. “You were born to serve others, not yourself. That is the destiny of a true hero.”

“I…know…” Adair replied weakly, as his vision started to blur. “That’s…how it’s always been…”

All the Gales in the room began to melt together, becoming one bluish mass. They were like an ocean, an arctic ocean about to swallow him up.

“Fiery! Fiery!”

Adair lifted his head slightly. Ava was screeching and thrashing in her cage.

…Why? thought Adair sleepily. Why does a firebird demon care more about me than my own family? She isn’t supposed to have a heart either…so tired, getting hard to think…

His eyes closed.

Ava…I…

“Now do you understand, Adair?” Bastion asked. “Perhaps you would like to silence that little firebird demon yourself, so that that rogue Voltaire understands?”

Adair was silent for a moment.

“…believe in you…” he whispered, opening his eyes.

“Hmm?” asked Bastion. Adair raised his head.

“Ava, I believe in you!”

The little phoenix let out a surprised squawk, before she began to glow and grow. She grew so large that she broke out of her cage. His father and the Gales rushed to attack her. Clarent, having nothing else to cling to, fell away. Adair himself began to fall forward as Ava’s shining form hastened toward him. It was the last thing he remembered.

______

Adair woke up in the sky, lying on Ava’s back. He couldn’t see the ground, there were so many clouds below them. What…What had he done? His heart, he had-

“Fiery? How are you feeling?” Ava asked, her voice deeper now. She was so much bigger, at least eight feet long. A long flat crest laid on her neck and black lines trailed under her blue eyes. Three long red tail feathers flowed after her golden body.

“…Ava, did I really…?” began Adair, placing a hand on his chest. What a stupid question, he thought. Of course he had given his heart to her. Here she was, evolved. Here he was, barely awake, his heartbeat weak and far away. But his heart still beat.

He glanced down to the ocean of clouds. He shuddered.

“What should I do?” he asked, burying himself in her feathers. “That was my life, even if it wasn’t what I thought it was. And now that I’ve made an exile of myself, they will be sure to hunt me down as a demon.”

“Volty won’t let them hurt you,” Ava reassured. “Volty always looks after his friends.”

“Ava, what is he going to do against my entire family? He‘s strong, but not that strong,” answered Adair. “Besides…I’m a mess. I saved what was left of my heart by giving it to you, but that wasn’t much was it? Suddenly I’m scared of everything, when I used to love everything…I don’t know if I can handle facing Voltaire or anyone else right now.”

“I’m sure Volty will understand when you tell him about what happened,” Ava reassured. “Volty may not be as strong as those meanie Gales, but he’ll find some way to protect you and help you get better, because Volty’s Volty.”

“Because Voltaire’s Voltaire,” Adair mused.

“I said, what does it mean to be a true hero?” his friend had asked earlier. “I mean, aren‘t you a hero already?”

Adair smiled, if a bit sadly.

(Please let me know what you think. This story is a bit dated now and will probably be rewritten later.)

wow. That was amazing.
I really feel for Adair. It must be hard for him.