Note: Skip this post if you are no interested in Isaac's backstory. This just providing context for the reader.
As far Isaac, he was the unique fellow, indeed. Several centuries ago, far from Fiore (Nearly on the other side of Earthland, we shall say) was Sin. A rather unholy land with treacherous regions and even more dangerous monsters and creatures. But as shocking as it was, even in the smaller parts of Sin, there was some order. From where Isaac was from, he lived in a noble family as Prince. It wasn't a sad, lonely childhood. In fact, it was quite pleasant and there were more good, happier times then bad ones. No, he didn't lose his parents. And the only things he tended to kill was probably livestock. It was a humble family but with a difficult lifestyle. Isaac had been the oldest child and son out of the many siblings he had, and had taken on the responsibilities of a prince, noble, son, and older brother. And that consisted on quite a lot.
Guiding and looking after his younger siblings, taking on the duties passed down from his still-alive Father, keep his Mother company and help out his village-kingdom all the same. And although he had a terribly loving family, as he grew older, Isaac and his Father slowly transitioned from a Father-Son relationship to a King-Prince one. Their conversations were short and consisted mostly of schedules, jobs, and other noble practices. They never really liked the same things, but they did get along. And when they did disagree on something, it was always in private. They never did truly like setting a bad example in front of their family.
But as Isaac grew, so did his siblings. They all became accomplished individuals for their age, but not quite old enough to pursue some sort of career or profession. But his mother and he always did tend to stay close. Sharing similar, if not very close and shared interests and prioritizing their family above all. And as lovely as it were, he knew at some point that he would have to inherit his Father's busy schedules and rushed environment when he took the name of King.
Several years went by, and Isaac had adapted to his already busy lifestyle, tutoring, guiding and teaching his family, spending time with his Mother and trying to see eye to eye with his Father. But it was at this period in his life that he had matured in his twenties and was close to inheriting the throne, but was also the time where one of his youngest sisters, Marceline, had fallen ill to some mysterious disease. Doctors came from all over but none could help. Because of his attachment to her, Isaac spent most of his time passing off his noble duties used the time to look after Marceline twenty four seven.
She was the sweetest little thing, and his favorite sibling. So attached to her, he made a quiet vow to protect her and to watch over her through all existences. But even the hope of the moment wasn't enough to cure his worries, and without a doubt, she later died and an older age.
Depressed and in distraught, Isaac had abandoned his noble status and went travelling to the many villages scattered across Sin after Marceline had passed, or so he thought. He visited many different villages, homing villages, refugee villages, religious villages... the whole lot of them. But the main village he had stayed in was a Hunters' Village. They were quiet, content people who didn't speak very much, and kept to themselves near the hunting grounds in Sin. They weren't exactly modern people, and used weaponry outdated even in that time period. But even so, he was taken under the wing of the Village Leader, and learned to use weapons of all kinds of natures.
He got along with the villagers quite well too. In fact, with one of the elder women there had connected with him quite well. She didn't speak a lot, but the conversations they had reminded him of the ones with his Mother. She ran an orphanage with about a dozen children who came from all sorts of villages and unknown places. And after bonding with these children, he had decided to help take care of them, raise them. They all had a special relationship to him.
He learned from their leader, and lived alongside their kin. But it was soon after he had a trusting relationship with the village that the Village Leader would introduce his Daughter to him, Setta. She was the feisty one… or could you call her a tsundere? She was cold, hot headed, and condescending at the time when they trained together, and in truth, Isaac wasn’t too fond of her either. They bickered and fought each other nonstop but in a way, they bonded the most. She softened up towards him and and he began to care for her a little more over time until they fell into a romance.
Unfortunately, around the same time that they had confirmed their love for each other, a mysterious disease had broken out in the land. It was incurable and dangerous, possibly airborne? No one could tell, and anyone with no symptoms didn’t know how truly infected they were until they dropped dead. Panic arose and anarchy had reigned over the land, no person remained civil and no person could be trusted. Sin stained red for yet another time of the century. Several months had passed, and Isaac didn’t dare abandon his wife or orphanage to visit his family. He figured that they would get by. Instead, he decided to care for his sick orphans and pregnant wife. But as they all slowly fell ill, he decided he needed to do something.
He searched, and searched, but no treatment can be found. That was until he visited another village, all their women and children… dead. Done by the hands of these cultists. Cold blooded killers who ate, raped, molested, and tortured children in the name of their god, and skinned women for eternal youth. But… despite being exposed to so much infection, they were okay. They claimed to have a cure, and flaunted it, really. Desperate for the safety of his own and his family’s health, he practically begged for it. But in return or the cure, he had to serve their God. How cruel was this? But he accepted by impulse and did just that. Although attempting to avoid all of their ‘ways to serve’, and successfully doing so, the observation of murder was absolutely disgusting.
He didn’t dare to believe that these people were human. Their blood was too cold, and appetite too bloodthirsty for them to be considered a human being. They were more like a pack of hungry wolves who preyed on the weak and youthful for sport rather than their precious God. Of course, he convinced himself that they were doing this for sport, but the hateful curiosity swelled up inside of him enough for him to eventually ask his cult leader why they served their God. He said, “Oh, Isaac! He grants us eternal life and youth in exchange for life and youth! We are one with him, as he is one with us. We shall continue to bloody our hands with our immortality!”
And those words never seemed to leave his consciousness. Words so ludicrous and cool couldn’t possibly make any sense at all, but even though he was not a religious man, he did do some investigating. Many, if not all the veteran members of the cult, had been around for one hundred and fifty or so years, much farther past the normal and healthy lifespan of a normal human being. But he was smarter than to believe that some sort of God made that happen. There had to be something behind it, and the clear answer was probably the ‘cure’. But no one would tell him anything beyond that. It was a menacing thing to think about, seeing as he had had small doses of the cure himself, but nothing seemed to change. Questionable, indeed.
But when he could get the chance, Isaac would sneak back to the village to visit the orphans and his pregnant wife with as much food and water as he could, which wasn’t a lot, but he did want to bring his fair share along with the other hunters and huntresses. Sin was now more dangerous than ever with a wandering epidemic spreading and bloodthirsty cultists and murderers taking advantage of the situation and bringing genocide here and there. But it was also at this time he began to write things in a journal, a little biography, you could call it. Some of it’s contents included: “Early Childhood (4-6 Years Old, Birth of Hannelore)
I will start by saying this: My childhood was not at all depressing or notably tragic, but happy and fruitful. I was the firstborn son and child to a working King and loving Queen, both being my parents.
My Father, at the time, was a man of honor and bound by work. Call him a workaholic, but if anything, he did his job well. He was stoic, and disciplined, and I happened to take on his nature in my later days. But in my childlike essence, I was merely a quiet, curious boy who loved to play with my parents. My Father, Aldrick, and Mother, Eleonore, pampered me quite a lot. Spoiling me with seconds of my favorite foods and telling me secrets of the kingdom. But it wasn't long before my first sister was born, Hannelore.
My Mother, at the time, kind and endearing. Sweet and accepting. The ideal, guiding mother. Many villagers in the kingdom had idolized her or glorified her to be some sort of goddess sent to guide them, so with her fame, we practically inherited that. But she did live up to her expectations, seeming to always to make the right decisions and pushing others in the wisest direction. She did not fail to please, but also had disciplines of her own.
Now, both of our parents had spoiled us, for at the time we were all they had. I was six and she was four, and we were a duo of uncovering secrets of the castle and kingdom; which really only was finding secret rooms and seeing who could last the longest in the dark wineries of the castle cellars. At the time, I hadn't exactly developed an elder brother persona just yet. I just happened to be older, and to say the least, more timid than my little sister, Hannelore.
Hannelore was a curious, adventurous child who would stop at nothing to get what she wanted. When she was she was just grasping the language, she would demand anything that sparkled. Oh, but she wasn't as brave. She'd scream at the slightest suspicion of bugs or worms or dogs. At those times, I was her 'knight in shining armor', but in reality, I really just covered her eyes and guided her away (Seeing as I wasn't fond of bugs myself...), plucked or shooed the things away reluctantly, or simply ignored her entirely. She was such a fussy child, and was only a little shorter than me, but would still demand I hold her or spoon feed her, no matter how old she was at the time. I would gladly accept her commands, seeing as I babied her more than my parents did.
Now, my Mother had always worried over us both. Seeing as Hannelore would be the one to lead us into dirt or trouble, and I'd always be the one to lead us out of it. She'd say things to Hannelore, like "Don't wander into the cellars alone, my little princess!" and tell me things like "Look after your sister, Isaac! She's all you've got!". But sometimes, those lectures would switch, but I managed to develop that big-brother persona after so many lectures, and became more or a guardian than a playmate after several tens of these lectures. If not hundreds.
In any case, we were a trouble making duo (That was more or less strictly on Hannelore....), and eventually developed elder-sibling personas after we discovered our Mother's next pregnancy.
Late Childhood (10-12, Birth of Achim)
Not much had changed, really. Hannelore was learning to grow out of her fussy nature and I was already indulging in other studies, becoming an ideal older brother persona. At the time, I was ten years old, Hannelore being eight, and Achim, our newest younger brother, being six. Hannelore didn't change, really. She still ran about the castle grounds, seeking adventure and danger and even going as far as pranking other with mischeivous acts such as putting worms into jars and leaving them under someone's pillow (She was slowly growing out of her fear of small creatures), which, she was lectured for over and over again... by Mother. And I continued to watch over her and discipline her, already adopting my disciplined nature and responsibilities as a sibling and first in line to royal duties.
Achim was the quietest of us all. He always was by Mother's side and never left it. He was clumsy, and often had people do things for hi, no matter how reluctant he was for them to do so, which contributed to the fact he had trouble advocating for things he was clearly not okay with. My relationship with him was close, to a degree. I was one of his tutors, and had a fair part in teaching him how to read and to interpret language, since I happened to be the bookworm, education-addicted, wise sibling out of the trio. Which was to be expected, I was given private lessons and special tasks at an early age, around when I was eight, and had skills that naturally came to me.
If anything, I was idolized by Achim, in my perspective. To say the least, he always tried to force himself to have an aptitude in things I had in. Things like, how fast I could read and write, or my observational skills (In fact, he had to follow his finger to read and was easily distracted), and tried to be adventurous and danger-seeking like Hannelore, but always ended up getting hurt or frustrated. But we still loved him all the same, and though Hannelore urged him to take it easy, she would always make him jealous over all of the things she had bragged of doing (Like... slaying a bear... which awfully just looked like a horse... she exaggerated a lot). I happened to be the one who would bring logic and realistic scenarios and would continue to become the ideal, elder brother they both looked up to as a guardian and as a sibling.
My relationship was Achim was along the borders of teacher-student than brother and brother, but it ended up with us being relatively close with one another. I taught him things I learned in my lessons, but he wasn't quite old enough to understand it or be taught it by an official tutor. But it was nice to express that knowledge with a blood brother. He never grew out of his shy and timid nature, at the time. And we never really grew closer than brothers should. Father had become busier with each child, but would always spend time with us as he was given the chances. I, myself, slowly began to lose interest in my Father's treatment towards me and my siblings. Our conversations slowly became more professional and short. Our relationship was starting to take a turn.
Early Adolescence (14-16, Birth of Marceline)
We weren't surprised when we heard that our Mother was pregnant again, well, at least I wasn't. Hannelore continued to make devious plans for her sibling, but slowly grew into an elder-sister figure, despite how long it took.
Achim was thrilled to hear that he would be an older brother, and it was cute to see him try to take care of our mother during her late pregnancy. He had been 'Mommy's little helper' for each and every month during our Mother's pregnancy. I, of course, helped as well. I had most of the responsibilities, on both sides of my parents. Thing like taking care of particular duties my Father simply could not make the time for, or completely watch over my Mother in the early morning and late at night when the others were unable. It was exhausting, to an extent, but I never complained.
But in the late hours, I would chat with my Mother about the child and our lives. She was perhaps the only person in my family that I could see eye to eye with. Or rather, someone I could actually be parented to. She was rest my head on her chest and sing me lullabies, like a baby, while gently stroking her ever growing belly. She was strong, at heart. And I envied that sort of nature. If I recall, we'd always have chipper conversations, and I could always tell her what was on my mind. And it was through these conversations that I devoted myself to the child in her belly, without bias.
"You are my eldest and precious son, Isaac. And though you may have the most responsibility as your Father's firstborn son and as the eldest out of your siblings, you are still a child, and will forever be my child. We are having another family member. - A girl, and her name will be Marceline. I want you to watch over her. And treat her with the kindness that fills your heart... for I will not always be here for them, your Father and I both. Watch over my little Marceline, and watch over your other siblings too. Hannelore, Achim... each of them. They do not yet understand the responsibility of how an older sibling should act, especially little Hannelore. She's quite the haughty one, is she not? And little Achim, he tries so hard to be like you two. Soon he will realize that he himself must cherish the person he was born with. Himself." He would always look to me and smile, smile so graciously and peer out of her bedroom window with longing eyes. As if, lost in the beauty of the kingdom below her. She resembled something along the lines of a caged dove. It was beautiful, yet tragic.
"I know that as my Father's son, and as my younger sibling's elder brother, that it is my duty to watch over my blood and these villages. I promise that I will watch over Marceline as both friend and brother. She will never have to be alone, dear Mother. I will always and forever be your child, and so shall you be my Mother forever and until the ends of time itself." I would reassure her with the same lost smile, but filled with kindness and embrace.
It was soon after tens and tens of chats that Marceline was born, and the beauty she was. Long, raven black hair and crimson red eyes, pale skin and sharp eyes. She was quite fair. And I kept my promise, for a great part of her childhood, I had watched over her. I had did a fair share of teaching her, and cooking for her when Mother couldn't (And considering Hannelore's cooking is a gruesome death....). I would take outside the castle and explore, and have her meet the villagers. I would play with her and stay with her most of the time. I saw it as a happy and chipper time of my life, like most of the births of my siblings.
However, Hannelore and Achim tried to get their fair share of bonding time as well. But, their definitions of bonding escalated. Hannelore would lead them into cellars and into obviously-suspicious areas of the castle and kingdom and one of the sisters always got hurt. This had caused me to tell Achim to go with them whenever they went of 'adventures'.
But Achim never helped either. He was still hopelessly clumsy and always managed to cause problems for the group altogether.
However, Achim and Marceline never had much brother-sister time individually. Achim, at this point, was being privately tutored and busying himself with other matters. Which, more than often, was him addressing issues he makes for himself. But when they did spend time together, I reckoned that it was enjoyable, to say the least. I never really observed them when they did. Except Hannelore, she needed to be watched regardless.
But despite their natures, Hannelore and Achim had transitioned into proper elder siblings figures, and though the two had bickered a lot, they had each went out of their way to guide and amuse Marceline. I, of course, usually had the final say in things, but I was still more of the 'Silent and Stoic' character amongst the siblings. I could not recall a dreadful time in this childhood. Achim had become one of intellect and open-minded, while Hannelore had found herself becoming exceptionally... well adjusted. By that, I mean that she always had good judgement. She always guided others down the right path and had a good sense of just, but she was always foul mouthed. And even though she was right, more than often, she would follow it with a 'Told you so!' or 'Of course I was right.' remark. She was still very haughty and prideful but we couldn't complain.
Marceline, of course, had been growing into a lovely young woman. Throughout her lifetime, my Father and Mother had always barraged her in love, while I had been growing into more professional and stricter routines and schedules, usually given by my Father. It was as if our relationship had been degraded into one of boss-and-employee. I, per say, didn't mind this sort of treatment, seeing as it was a birthright and a responsibility that only I could rightfully take on, but it was also a pity that I was slowly growing out of the love my Father had constantly bestowed upon my siblings.
This was the childhood that my Father and I had started to disconnect from our loving relationship, and into more of a do this and do that sort of thing. However, my Mother and I had still remained close and stable.
I could say that Marceline and I had the closest relationship amongst the family, in my eyes. We had always spent time together, and even if it was just sitting somewhere and peeling an orange, it was still memorable.
But all good things must meet their ends, as always. Marceline had come down with an illness, one that was incurable. We didn't know what was wrong with her, but her symptoms had made her disgustingly uncomfortable. Doctors from many lands had came in her aid, but there was nothing they could do. We weren't certain if it was fatal or not, or if it was more around the lines of severe allergies, but all we could do is mourn.
However, I could not. As sad as I was, I couldn't be the weaker one here, and always treated her the same, despite her illness. I would peel fruits for her, and do simple tasks for her, and sneak her out of the castle when she wasn't allowed. I loved her so much, and I feared that I was hurt the most to hear that she was ill. And that she was suffering.
But, I continued to watch over her and my siblings, but despite the illness, we all had happy childhoods….”
There was more to it.. But at the time, he didn’t want to litter his mind with better times. But with his wife giving birth recently that week, and the children becoming more ill, Isaac’s carefulness had sunk just for a few hours. But little did he know that even that would cost him something.
His fellow cultists caught him sneaking to his village with an abundance of food and water he did not share with the group, not that they really ate animal meat over human meat. Regardless, they followed him to his orphanage and wife, and realized what an advantage they had gotten. The village was littered with women and children, and how lucky for them to find an orphanage there. They all praised Isaac and labeled him “a true believer”, but he did not accept. He practically begged them to leave them alone, and to go do their doings elsewhere. But as an act of ‘mercy’, their Leader had informed him that in response to the children’s illnesses, they would cure them and leave them be.
Overjoyed, Isaac had lived these short moments in a period of “Everything’s going to be okay”. But what he asked in return was abhorring. With a blade to his, the childrens’, and his wife’s necks, he was instructed to further pay their god by stealing their ‘maidenhead’ or else they’d all be killed. As simple as the situation was, Isaac deemed desperate and proceeded take the ‘maidenhead’ of the children, reluctantly. He convinced them that in order for them to be healthy and strong again, he had to do this, no matter how many tears clogged the corners of his eyes at the moment.
After the tiring, emotionally destructive process, Isaac demanded that they do their fair share and treat them, as promised. But, as always, they were wolves in sheep’s clothing, and petty little liars. They slaughtered the children and skinned his wife, all while Isaac was forced to witness the ‘God’s Glory’ while held back, screaming and sobbing. They were ignorant enough to bring their supply of ‘cures’ to tease the idea as well, all of them laughing pitifully. Except one. One of them who went by the name Kotomine just stood there with the same face of pain that he had. Earlier that year, they had befriended each other, really. They were both there for the same reason, to treat the ones they cared about. And in that period of time, they were the closest thing to best friends that one could describe. But that same year, the same thing happened to Kotomine. Fooled into believing that they were merciful and would help him, but slaughtered his little sisters with cold blood and iron claws.
But the sadness was soon mixed with fury and ferociousness as he had seen the entire village slaughtered by their hands. His wife, skinned alive. Children? Molested, killed, and eat raw in front of him. All that remained was his child and son, Atlas. Who was still in his dead Mother’s arms crying a healthy cry for attention. And attention did come to him, the hungry cultists crowded around him and realized that it was Isaac’s child, and saw this as the pure punishment for betraying God’s will.
But it was also at that moment that the intensity of his feelings has driven him to unlock a magic, consisting of all the skills, weaponry, abilities, and other gadgets that his Teacher had taught him before. A complete armory of weapons and skillsets familiar to him in every way. The Ultimate Weapons’ Master ReQuip.
With the newly obtained power, he had slaughtered everyone remaining in the cult (That was present in the village) except Kotomine, who had actually helped him. They both had chugged down the rest of the cure, as Isaac would also have his child drink some of it.
The village was now silent and as red as wine. But it was also at this moment that Kotomine had informed him the true effects of this treatment. This odd and foreign substance simply expanded the mortal lifespan of those who drink it by a large chunk of years, also empowering the human body systems enough so they can withstand the disease, never truly curing it, but giving the person what they need to survive with it. The cultists seeing this as a “gift from the God of eternal mortality.” And maybe it was? The origin of the disease or the cure was never discovered, but that didn’t matter to Isaac at that moment.
They both built proper burials for the dead children in the orphanage and his wife, or what remnants of their half eaten bodies they could recover while leaving Atlas in a rocking carriage inside one of the orphanage’s rooms. During the burials, and honoring the kids and his wife, they both told each other what they would do or the remainder of their lives. Kotomine had told him that he’d become a Priest, and instead of serving a God of Death and Blood, he’d instead bring love and peace to anyone who deems need it, and would move to Fiore henceforth with the bodies to build another burial for them.
Isaac, however, thought differently. He decided he would live his life raising his child to be everything that Isaac wasn’t, a respectable human being, and also live his life making up for this past year of blood, cannibalism, molestation and other sins and crimes.
Content with their decisions, Isaac and Kotomine had finished burying the bodies and finding plants to put on top of them traditionally. But as Isaac walked back into the orphanage to retrieve his son, he was gone. Nothing. Nothing lied inside of that small basket…
Kotomine later spent the rest of the many months comforting Isaac and sulking with him for his stolen son. But as the sadness turned into determination, Isaac vowed that he would find his son, and become a servant to life, repenting for his crimes and making up for his sins by bringing peace. He had lost everything. His wife, his family, his son, his siblings, his parents, his home… but that wouldn’t stop him.
And like that, Isaac traveled all over Earthland doing just that. He wandered and served, but also on the careful lookout or the child who’s face never left his mind. He met plenty of women during the many centuries, and although getting into a relationship a few times, he soon abandoned them being convinced that he didn’t deserve any sort of romance. But in more modern times, Isaac had met another woman, Sukoshi Saki, who was quite a young woman, yes. But they had met in a bar, and had drugged him. Dragging him to a local motel and sleeping with him. It was within that same year that she had also redeemed pregnant before she left him after several more druggings that week, leaving a note saying that she was indeed pregnant, and would have that child, but would not take care of it.
But he decided not to take the situation too harshly, and made another devotion to find his other child, wherever she left him, and also attempt to care for him.
Later that century, he joined the Rune Knights, and was let go after a very long time of service, joined the Garou Knights, but also left them thinking that this isn’t what he wanted anymore. He was lost again, and sought refuge at Fairy Tail for the time being. But after paying another visit to Kotomine’s Church at Neutral Grounds, he was convinced that he had been forgiven of his sins and had repented for his crimes. He had also gotten the name of Sukoshi’s and his son, Jaeger Nekros Kruger. Next to when Atlas was born, this was at the time that he had experienced true peace and joy.
He became guildless, and abandoned his affiliation with the Magic Council and any Law Enforcement factions, took his wealth elsewhere and had been currently living in his estate in Talonia. Finding Atlas in Honsenka, and truly finding happiness. But still on the search for his other son, Jaeger, Isaac had new ambitions and new goals to meet before he died. To gain power, to discover new things and to experience romance, happiness, and combat with new people, to have a healthy relationship with his sons and to dine happily without the idea of dead children.