Minutes from the Scribe of the Midnight Company

A: So we've really been hired for that 11th wave crap? Don't they usually farm it out to some locals or a bored Primus?

B: Yea, but one of the Over-Routine's got involved this time and it became this whole fucking deal. Apparently we are the only ones with the appropriate "discretion and un-involvment" to oversee a fair contest.

A: You're kidding.

B: Nope.

A: Wow. Genesis trusting us just because we're greedy little shits. I love my life.

The night sky greets me as I open my eyes. Thousands upon thousands of stars twinkle from their positions on the black canvas. No matter how many times I see the sight, I’m always impressed by this spectacle. The stars without light pollution are … breathtaking.

Groaning, I instinctively try to place my left hand on the ground to balance myself as I try to rise. A sharp cutting pain, like dozens of superheated daggers, shoots up my arm as I fall to the side, face hitting the rough ground below me. I feel a few cuts open up, blood dripping down my face, but it is nothing compared to the nearly overwhelming pain that is my lost hand.

Gritting my teeth, I use my right hand to pull myself up into a sitting position. Each of my muscles quiver at the exertion but I manage to accomplish it while gritting my teeth. Never in my life have I ever been this sore or in as much pain as I am right now. Never in my life could I ever have even comprehended it. To tell a perfectly healthy person of this kind of pain is like telling a blind person about colors; they can never truly understand the concept without having actually experienced it.

Just a few feet away from me lies the tattered body of the man. What’s left of his torso is ripped apart from his legs and small pieces of him are scattered around the platform. Each one of the pieces, as well as the torso itself, is covered in disfiguring plasma burns that still leak pus despite his death. Only his face seems to have survived the attack intact. Lying on its side, it looks at me with that unsettlingly pleased smile and empty eyes. Those eyes send a shiver down my spine.

It’s only now that I realize I never actually knew what his name was. Despite the horror that he had inflicted upon my family, he had just been a nameless figure. I guess it’s only fitting that he die in the same way.

Muscles shaking profusely, I stumble up to my feet and pick up his head by the unruly mane of hair that seemed to reappear upon his death. His skin has also regained a human appearance. Whatever the effects of those blades were, they seem to have faded away upon his death.

Nearly tripping a few times, I warily make my way away from the platform and towards a small copse of cacti nearly fifty feet to the south. Barely making it, I fall to my feet and begin infusing the ground below with Earth Mana. The ground shakes and rustles slightly before opening up like a shell to expose a large pack within. I pull it out, nearly falling backwards from it’s weight, and then sit in between the cacti.

His head goes into my bag almost instantly. I may have hated the man but the last thing I want to do is carry his severed head around in my hand as I walk my way back to Everwall.

Everwall. The mere thought brings with it a series of conflicting emotions.

I love the town that is my home and truly believe that it represents the potential that humanity has. It is a unified community, a place with a shared sense of purpose. They are kind to others, committed to their survival, and always striving. Yet, I can’t deny that it has morphed into something different then what I imagined. Even the presence of my own school changed the dynamic of the town. When there’s only one person teaching others how to use mana, it creates a fair share of tension when applicants are denied.

And there’s also my mother. The elephant in the room of my mind. I’d been avoiding thinking about what to do in regards to her attempted coercion. I understand that she was struggling with a fragile emotional state but I’m not sure that it excuses what she did.

Sitting under the stars, surrounded by cacti, I don’t reach any sort of conclusion. Instead, I find myself drifting off once again into the land of sleep.

I awake in the morning and see the sun rising up over the desert to the east. The destruction of our fight, hidden in the darkness of the night, is much clearer in the light of the day. A thin layer of sand sweeps across everything, giving the area an almost hazy appearance. Perhaps, in time, the sand will cover the entire area and there will be no trace of the battle that was fought here. The thought fills me with a strange sense of ease.

Standing up, I shake off my still sore muscles. They aren’t nearly as bad as they were the day before but they still quake slightly under the weight of the pack. Did … did I do something to damage my body? The pack can’t weigh more than thirty or forty pounds. With my Strength, I should barely be able to notice it. My head also feels as if it is surrounded by a constant buzz; every thought feels slower.

A quick check of my Status screen makes the reason abundantly clear.

Mana Overload: Your body suffers from being overloaded by an immense amount of volatile Mana within an incredibly short time frame. Your body was unable to handle the energies that you controlled without the assistance of Genesis. Your Attributes and (various Recovery Rates) have been decreased by 50% for 10 days. Your control over Mana will also be restricted during this period. Remaining time: 9 Earth Days.

I find myself reliving the choices I made during the battle and I’m confronted by the simmering rage that still rests within my mind. I’d … never lost control like that before. It was as if my emotions took over the reins of my body and used my Skills in a way I had never considered possible. Or, at the very least, I hadn’t considered them within the realm of what I could safely handle.

These thoughts, along with what I plan on doing when I return to Everwall, are my only companions on the hike back. The day turns to night which then turns back into day. Seven days pass in a blurry haze. The landscape fades from my awareness as my thoughts become incredibly focused.

Emerging from the thick trees of the surrounding forest, I’m greeted by the sight of the city in all of its splendor. Thick walls of heavy wooden logs surround the perimeter and the faint sounds of the market carry over. Their yells tell the story of a community; of people selling goods, laughing with friends, and committing themselves to their work.

Through the haze of my thoughts, I find myself wandering. One step after another.

I only stop walking when I reach my final destination. Looking up, I find that I’ve finally wandered my way over to Joselin’s house. Set squarely in the heart of the middle class district, the home is a two-story brick building that was obviously constructed after the change. The multi-colored bricks and the utility in its design are two obvious signs but a few more remain hidden, only visible to the trained or keen eye. Recycled tiles for roofing, scratches on the doorstep that show the door is repurposed, and windows with slight cracks in the glass give them away.

Without giving it much thought, I walk up to the front door and gently knock. It is almost as if my body moves on its own, taking me to the place that it knows I need to be.

Joselin answers the door, her rich green eyes widening and her face paling at the sight of me. She runs over and wraps one arm around me, pulling me into her home and gently setting me down in a large chair that looks out over the entire kitchen.

“Cael … are you alright?”, she asks, kneeling down so that she can look me in the eye. I realize, only right here, that her appearance perfectly matches her personality. Strong shoulders hold up the weight of others and yet her button nose hints at the fragility within. I can’t believe I had never realized that before.

“Cael … you’re not saying anything. Are you okay?” she asks again, tapping me gently on the leg.

I shake a little and smile wryly. “Oh yea … sorry. Got caught in my own head.”

At my response, she lets out a little sigh of relief. Getting back on her feet, she walks over to the stove and throws in a few logs. The kettle is then set on top and she pulls up a short stool by my chair. “What are you doing here Cael? I thought you left for the Trial.”

“I won.”

A hand rests on my leg. “Congratulations Cael … but are you alright? You seem … a little out of it.”

I find myself replying without thinking. “Am I really the right person to become Primus?”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t know if I’m the right person. I’m certainly better than the man who killed Marc but that’s a pretty low bar. What if there’s someone else who would do a better job?”

She grabs my hand and pulls it into hers, wrapping around them. It feels surprisingly … comforting. It is almost as if there is a sense of a deeper purpose, of rekindled motivation that rests within her hands. “Cael, I want you to look at me alright? Just look into my eyes. No, not down at my hands. Look into my eyes and don’t worry about anything else, okay? Everything’s going to be okay.”

And just like she claimed, things do begin to feel better. The doubts that had overwhelmed me for the past week begin to lessen. They don’t disappear entirely but they become shadows of their former selves. At the same time, the constant low pain that had settled into my body begins to dissipate. Just a few moments later, it is as if a blanket lifts itself off of my mind.

I shake my head slightly and look around the room, slightly confused. I know that I’m back in Everwall and that I’m at Joselin’s but, for the life of me, I can’t remember the steps that brought me here. A faint ping lets me know the reason for my sudden lucidity.

Mana Feedback has been Cured.

“What the fuck happened to your hand?” Her voice cuts through and I feel her holding my cauterized wound up and inspecting it.

I close out the notification and push myself up with my good hand. Despite being cured of the aches of the Mana Feedback, I can still feel pain originating from my lost hand. It is the pain of heat and fire, of nerves firing and not returning like expected. Ghost pains of a lost hand.

Chuckling morbidly, I answer. “Lost it in my fight. I was a little too arrogant and paid the price.”

She holds up the stump and looks at me in the eye. “Well, I’ll heal this as well. Give me a moment.”

Her eyes close in concentration and I feel a strange energy begin to flow around the stump. Within my Field, it’s obvious that the energy is Mana but it feels drastically different from my own. Where mine is a torrent of power that needs to be controlled with an iron will, hers feels like a gentle breeze that is easily directed.

The Mana circles around my arm begins to sink into it. Fresh flares of pain shoot through my body and I find myself clenching both my teeth and gripping the chair as hard as I can. Every flare is like reliving what it felt like to lose the hand but repeated over and over and over again. Each second brings more pain and my knuckles turn white as I clutch at the armrest. I cry out after a few more seconds and the pain begins to fade as the Mana pulls away.

The cauterized stub has healed slightly. The burnt skin has become healthy and it looks as if small nubs of bone protrude against the skin but it seems to have stopped their for the moment.

Joselin sits in front of me, covered in sweat. Her skin is pale and her hand reaches out to the chair to help herself balance. “Whatever he did, I don’t think I’m going to be able to fix it yet. It almost feels like there are … I want to say living shards of metal in your arm, but that’s insane. However, there definitely is something in there that’s fighting against me. But I swear, no matter how long it takes, we’ll fix it.”

I let out a sigh of relief as the pain fades away. Placing my right hand on her shoulder, I respond, “Don’t worry about it. You’ve already done more than enough. I want to stay but there’s something I need to do first. I’ll come back once I’m through with that and we can go over what happened. Alright?”

She nods her head and then I walk out of the door, grabbing my bag and heading towards my mother’s house.