Elucard followed the brook that led to his master Legion’s cabin. The spring lilies just began to blossom among the ebonwood leaves. Their red petals were a favored sight for Elucard and were only found in the northern woods of Long Whisper. His mother used to tell him tales of master carpenters seeking out an ebonwood tree to craft the finest and most exquisite furniture, but needing to brave the Whispering Forest of the dread Black Rabbits in order to do so. Truthfully, Elucard never saw any carpenters making such a journey into his territory when he served as a Rabbit, but the simple idea was enough to impress him as a boy.

Elucard stepped up to the cabin door, but stopped short. His master and Malady could be heard bickering, quite clearly, through the thick oak door as if they were both in front of him.

“You are coddling this boy and it will be the death of him!”

“Malady, I do not see the connection between coddling and having Kyzo learn from books, perhaps you could explain that to me?”

Elucard slid a thin smirk and pushed open the door. The argument rushed through him like a heavy gale.

“You need me to explain? Fine then!” shouted Malady. The one-eyed elf pounded his fist into his palm. The very action pulsed his toned muscles and the leather straps across his chest cracked. He drew one of the five arming swords from the scabbard on his back. With a flick of his wrist, he swished the blade at the bored elf sitting at his writing desk. “Books weaken the limbs and turn you blind. Without proper strength-training his brain will literally turn to mush and leak out of his ears.

Kyzo raised an eyebrow.

Legion shook his head. “A strong mind leads to a strong body, Malady.”

“Master, I wish to—” Elucard tried to get a word in, but Malady leaped into another tirade.

“A blade is only as sharp as the Rabbit wielding it!” Malady snarled. “If the boy does not train more he will grow into a dull blade! A dull blade means a dead Rabbit. Has my mother taught you nothing, brother?”

“That proverb refers to a sharp mind making a Rabbit sharper in combat—oh never mind,” huffed Legion.

“Master, I wish to speak to you…” Elucard tried again.

Malady glared at Elucard. “Your whelp wishes something from you, Legion.”

Elucard narrowed his eyes. He still hated Malady, but the elf proved himself during the Dawnedge War, so in Elucard’s eyes, he would live another day.

Legion shook his head and stole a glance from Kyzo before responding. “Hm. Perhaps I have been driving Kyzo into his studies too hard.” Legion tapped the young elf on the shoulder. “Gather your weapons, I want you to train in the Rabbit-Sai and Rabbit-Do forms for an hour with Master Malady.”

Kyzo skidded back his chair and stretched out his back. He picked up his ninjato and followed the five-bladed assassin out the back door leaving Elucard alone with Legion.

“What is it, my son?” asked Legion.

Elucard adjusted his silk green with yellow striped vest, unsure how to start his conversation. It had been nearly a year since he left the Anti-Rogue Ops in the care of Mave to become a civilian. His new life, as uninteresting as it was, treated him well. However, something deep within his mind bothered him. Something dark. Something restless.

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Elucard sat down at the writing desk and absentmindedly flipped through the pages of an arithmetic book, doing his best to hide his misery.

Legion stepped into the kitchen. “Perhaps some mint tea and a freshly baked scone will loosen your tongue?”

Elucard gave the old elf a chuckle. “You fiend! I’ll never talk!”

Elucard followed Legion and leaned on the counter. He watched him pour the tea into two cups and select a rather tender and flaky raspberry scone from a tin tray.

“Talk,” Legion said.

Elucard sipped the sweet drink and munched on his snack. “You have this life now…” he started. His eyes wandered around the paintings hanging along the cabin walls. Each landscape of various landmarks in Long Whisper were painted with hand-cramping detail. Tucked into a corner was a nightstand with piles of sketch books teetering off the edge. Elucard thumbed through the drawings with amazement drafted on his face. Each page featured fabulous charcoal foxes. Only one who practiced his craft for years could have achieved this level of skill. Where did Legion find the time? The elf then dragged his finger against the spines and the many jammed-packed books of an oak shelf. Elucard chose one and read its title out loud.

‘Ancient Folklore and History Pertaining to the Dragon Realms’

By Professor Fendelmis Briarwood

“I enjoyed that one,” Legion said with a nod.

“I’m sure it’s a real page turner.” Elucard scoffed and shelved the book before turning his attention to the fireplace.

A battle-worn and chipped claymore hung displayed above the mantle, the preferred weapon of his aging master.

“You came from such an irredeemable world,” Elucard finally continued. “A world of blood and violence…”

The young elf lowered his head. Where was he going with this? How could he ask the question that plagued what little soul he still had left? “Master. I want this. I want all of this, but I fear I don’t deserve any of it.”

Legion nodded. He placed his hands on his student’s shoulders. “You are no longer the Black Rabbit you once were. You are a hero of Long Whisper—Several times over. You need to forgive—”

Elucard shut his eyes tightly. “I am no hero. I ruin lives. I destroy any friend that grows too close to me. I am a virus, not a hero.”

Legion cupped Elucard’s chin. “It is because I have made you this way. Our clan molds its Rabbits into mindless weapons. We were never meant to live outside of that factory—that world.”

“How? How do I move on? When I shut my eyes all I see is the blood I shed, the lives I took, The bodies I broke, and the vile I spread. You stole Jetta from me…and yet I forgave you, but myself…I can’t—I can’t…”

“Forgive yourself?” finished Legion. “You can, and you need to.”

Elucard chewed on his lip. “How? How do I forgive myself and move on?”

“I wish to show you something, Elucard” Legion gestured for his student to follow him out of the cabin and over to the small brook.

Elucard looked down at the clear water and then back to Legion.

“You must be like this gentle stream, constantly flowing, constantly moving on with your life,” Legion finally explained. “You must push yourself to strive for something more—something better. If you are not pushing yourself forward, you are pushing yourself back.”

Elucard knelt down and observed a leaf floating down the stream.

“For if the stream stops moving…” continued Legion.

Elucard’s eyes lit up. “It becomes stale!”

“Exactly.”

Elucard tenderly picked up the leaf and twirled its stem. “How can I start? Start to flow again?”

Legion sat cross-legged on the stream’s bank. “When was the last time you spoke to Jetta?”

Jetta. It had been years since he visited her grave or had her in his prayers. He had been so wrapped up with his work with ARO or the war to pray to anyone, even Alanna. Was this what he needed more of in his life? Faith? Faith in a friend or faith in his goddess? He had tried everything else, perhaps spending some time with Jetta could do him some real good.

“I suggest you visit her, Elucard, and seek her guidance. Pray to her for a clear mind, I sense her soul still stays strong within you.”