Chapter 60: Losing Yourself

Cold, so terribly cold. Not a chill from the changing of the seasons, but a creeping chill, a chill that crawled from what felt like his very soul, freezing his body in place. A chill one would get while walking in a dark forest, moving amongst the dead trees and the rotten undergrowth. The feeling one would get when being hunted by unknown monsters lurking in the murky darkness, ready to rip into your flesh with claws and jagged teeth. The unadulterated fear as your imagination added monstrosities, real and fantastical, to the ever encroaching void that was seconds away from swallowing you whole.

He couldn't breathe, his body begged for oxygen but his mind refused, afraid that any movement, any at all, would draw the attention of an ancient predator eyeing him from some unknown location. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated, to enable him to more easily see even in the light of the midday sun. Time seemed to slow to an agonizing crawl, each second seemed to last for minutes on end, a single beat of a bird's wing flying overhead taking several breath's time.

Hardy Tillweather flitted his eyes erratically, his mind desperately attempting to make sense of the overwhelming stimuli. The breeze gently caressing his exposed skin felt like needles of ice boring into his flesh. His fine mage robes were now course sandpaper rubbing his skin raw until blood slowly trickled from the pink muscle underneath. The sound of his beating heart hammered inside his head driving him mad, wishing that he could only reach inside his chest to rip out the offending organ.

He took a breath; his lungs burned as if the crisp autumn air carried acid amongst its currents. A slow, raspy sound so loud that his brain vibrated and his ears popped, replacing the original sound with a ringing reminisce of the wailing of the damned. He squeezed his eyes shut, the only thing that he could do, trying to shut out the madness that was slowly enveloping his mind.

He was alone now, in a small, windowless room. He looked up, only to see a door much larger than himself. Turning slowly, ending in a click, the doorknob heralded the opening of the door. Standing in the threshold, looking down at him with nothing but despise and disgust was his mother. Not saying a word, she swung her hand, a hand that should have been filled with love and tenderness, and struck him across the face.

Pain, nothing but pain. He could feel the soft skin on his cheek tear off, the muscle and sinew in his neck rip as his head whipped violently. An immeasurable sadness filled his heart, magnified to an unbearable level. Slowly, in what felt like years, the sadness festered and rotted into something more, hate. Hate at his mother, his father, his family, at everyone that looked down on him, and... at himself. He hated himself more than anyone, and anything.

He was in a forest now; not a dark dingy forest filled with death and decay, but one filled with light and life. The warm breeze didn't burn his skin and the fine silk clothes he wore felt soft and refreshing. Pure bliss. He took a deep breath, filling his burning lungs with fresh air, driving away the pain that was quickly becoming nothing more than a distant memory.

He looked down at his hands, they were coated in a slick sheen of crimson. Fresh blood. He felt good, felt, alive. For the first time in his life he didn't hate himself, didn't wish to be dead. He looked past his hands dripping with blood, and saw a badly beaten body. What was once a beautiful woman was now laying broken and bloodied on the forest floor, hidden amongst the silent trees. Her pleasant face was now unrecognizable, her fair skin bruised and swollen, cracked and oozing dark blood.

Her limbs were twisted in unnatural angles, white bone tinted in red, exposed to the warm breeze. Her clothes still adorned her, plain and roughly made. A dark purple ring went around her slender neck, a testament to what had finally ended her life. As he looked at what he had done, he felt no remorse, no guilt, only satisfaction. For the first time in his life, he felt pleasure.

He relived every moment of his life in agonizing detail. The beatings by the hands of those that were supposed to provide him with love and warmth, filled his heart with nothing but numbness and hate. The pleasure he experienced as he wrapped his hands around the thin necks of commoner women and looking into their eyes as he squeezed the life out of them. Every one of the feelings and emotions he had experienced throughout his life converged all at once, washing over him like a massive wave, carrying his consciousness over a high ledge before cascading down into the waiting maw of an endless abyss.

The crowd around the merchant, and those involved in his treatment, had grown. Now, everyone, including the many soldiers stationed at the checkpoint were all watching as the man slowly got to his feet, coughing as he did so. So focused on the miracle in front of them, they failed to notice the strange behavior of the mage next to him.

Mage Tillweather was trembling, sweat was pouring out of every pore. He dropped to his knees, bringing both hands up to his head only to begin ripping out handfuls of hair. His eyes swiveled in their sockets, seeing everything but nothing in the same moment, before finally landing on the man dressed in black.

He started to scream, such a primal scream of terror and madness that everyone present recoiled, backing away, knocking into one another. A soldier fought back the urge to run and timidly put a hand on his shoulder. Still screaming, Mage Tillweather attacked the soldier, scratching with his bloodied nails and gnashing his bared teeth. The soldier backed away, tripping over his own feet. He was filled with dread as he looked into the mage's lifeless eyes, eyes filled with nothing but the most primal of instincts, devoid of any vestiges of humanity.

Mage Tillweather continued to claw and bite at the soldier, grunting, growling, and screaming. Two more soldiers rushed to pull the madman off of their comrade, pulling hard on both of his arms and breaking them. No longer with a sane mind, he ignored the fractured bones in both his arms as he snaked his limbs out of their grip and clung onto the soldier in front of him. Opening his mouth wide, he bit into the neck of the soldier, hot blood filled his mouth as he ripped into flesh.

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The soldier screamed out, frantically punching and kicking the man that was latched onto him. More soldiers moved in, punching and prying, trying to free their injured friend. Nothing was working. When they pulled the mage off of him, he would slip free from their grip, only to sink his teeth back into the dying soldier. Left with no other choice, they unsheathed their sword and plunged them into the mage turned cannibal.

To their horror, the swords only proved to slow him down. Even as his body hemorrhaged vast amounts of blood he continued to bite and chew on the unresponsive soldier. Only when one soldier took his dagger and stabbed it deep into his brain did Mage Tillweather finally cease his psychosis fueled assault.

The crowd had pulled back far away from the violence unfolding in front of them. The confused merchant that had just regained consciousness before the attack had been pulled away by his bodyguards. Ryan was standing protectively in front of Laura as she had her hands clasped over her mouth, staring wide eyed at the horrific scene in front of them. She had seen far worse during the demon attack in Swayzee, but the suddenness of the attack coupled with the sheer violence of it, troubled her greatly.

Everyone stood still collecting their thoughts, only after a Commanding Officer forcefully dispersed the crowd did they move away. Everyone slowly made their way to their respective wagons or carriages, no one spoke. Even the recently healed merchant who had been so loud and boisterous had become as timid as a mouse as his bodyguards ushered him into his carriage. Professor Kal's group silently loaded themselves back into their wagon. Taking their seats on the plush velvet cushioned couches before anyone spoke.

"What did you do to him?!" Professor Treffle accused as she looked to Professor Kal with a tinge of fear in her eyes.

"Me?" Professor Kal said as he sat in the drivers seat. "Why do you think I had anything to do with what happened?"

Everyone seemed to be hanging on every word that was going on between the two.

"How couldn't I suspect you?!" She said. "You're always pulling ancient artifacts out of gods knows where. You're able to cast powerful magic without a chant, only the Royal Mage can come close to such a feat. I never see you eat, only drink that stinking wine. Should I go on?"

They all had varying reactions to her words. They were running through all of their different observations they have had with the man, finding more than just a few incongruities with how he behaved. Ryan kept his lips sealed, thinking that he knew the truth about Professor Kal's odd behavior. Ben, Richard, and Laura all looked at Professor Kal with nothing but trust and admiration. To them, he was the man that had saved their lives on more than one occasion. They had just conveniently forgotten that the same man that had saved them was also the main reason they were in those dangerous situations to begin with.

Lilly placed herself between Alessandria and Professor Kal, suddenly remembering that they had not known him long and thus could not be trusted. Marissa was just sitting in the back, watching everything unfold with a glint in her eyes. She was beginning to surmise that there really wasn't anything worth reporting about this mage, but with this sudden development, things were rapidly changing.

Professor Kal let out a tired sigh, swapping out his black staff with his long, morbid looking pipe. Lighting it with the tip of his finger, he drew in a large lungful of the aromatic smoke. "Let's say, for the sake of argument, that I did do something to that... man. What would that change? Would you look at me as some kind of monster, some horrendous beast that lurked in the shadows? Would you look at me with fear in your eyes? Afraid that I would strike you down with the same affliction? Or, would you try to strike me down? Telling yourself that you were just ridding the world of another monster, but in the end, becoming one yourself."

He paused, locking eyes with his fellow professor. "Or are you defending that man's actions? The fact that he injured a student, that he was killing an innocent man with his incompetence. Did you miss the signs of silent casting as he looked upon poor Lucy with hate and malice in his eyes?"

Professor Treffle remained silent, suddenly not knowing how to feel. Was what he said true? That that mage was preparing a spell to kill her student. She hadn't sensed anything at all, she was much too focused on the merchants miraculous recovery. Would she have killed the mage if he did attack Laura? Killing bandits were easy, they were wanted criminals and had no backing to speak of. But Mage Tillweather was a noble, although a low ranking one, he would still have had many connections within the kingdom; his murder would have had far reaching circumstances. Laura was a noble herself, but she was dressed as a commoner. So it would have been far too easy for Mage Tillweather to claim ignorance, escaping punishment should he have killed her.

"Professor..." Laura squeaked out, looking up at Professor Kal with tears in her eyes. "M.... my name isn't Lucy."

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