Book 2: Chapter 5

The massive amount of staring eyes startled Cyil and he quickly shut his eyes again; his brain was working fast. “Why are there so many people?!” Cyil didn’t know that the process of transferring his soul from the stone to Mahoj’s body had taken over 7 hours; he had been completely absorbed in the memories of Mahoj that time had slipped by in the blink of an eye.

Cyil thought of what to do. He had been planning to wake up and un-hang himself from the tree by grabbing hold of the rope and pulling himself up towards the branch. He thought that would have been his biggest hurdle but although that was solved for him without any effort another even more headache inducing situation had appeared.

Cyil thought of playing dead until the people left, but his body had begun to breath on its own and unbeknownst to the crowd the holes from the crossbolts had already closed up leaving behind dried blood and holes in the leather clothing. Someone would definitely notice his heaving chest because it didn’t seem like the crowd would disperse anytime soon.

With a sigh, Cyil opened his eyes and called out to his ‘mother’. “Mom?” Cyil whispered without much strength.

When Cyil’s mother, Helather, heard Cyil’s voice, she was given a bad start. Helather was both delighted and frightened. She was delighted that her son was alive, but she was frightened by his viciousness when he was alive. Helather’s first two reactions was then followed by a deep curiosity. Why is he alive, now?

Helather and her husband, Henri, had just finished their lunch when a neighbor ran to tell them of the news: Mahoj had been killed and hung on display for all to see! When the two parents heard this, they forgot all about Mahoj’s vile, unspeakable actions and hurried the neighbor to tell them where his body was. Although Mahoj had done them wrong, he was still their son and they both still loved him dearly.

Mahoj was their only son and he was their greatest delight in Nakrul when he was born. Helather and Henri had tried multiple times to have children but they weren’t able to, for some reason. Even after scraping together money to visit plenty of doctors in the town, the cause was still unknown. They had almost given up when Mahoj came along. The six years watching Mahoj grow up were the best time of their lives. Then came the mage and their reluctant parting.

As Helather and Henri exitted the town, they charged towards the crowd of people that had already gathered around the oak tree.

Henri was enraged at the display and sprinted up the hill, through the crowd, and up to the body. When he saw the wounds on Mahoj’s body and his lifeless face, Henri roared in grief and quickly undid the rope, releasing the rope at a slow pace to soften the body’s fall.

Helather was a step slower but she soon broke past the crowd and saw the grisly scene up close. She rushed up to Mahoj’s body and kissed and hugged him while crying.

Henri came to loosen the noose and took the rope off of Mahoj’s slightly bruised neck. At this point, Henri couldn’t help but to also cry and the family shared an embrace, ignoring the crowd that had begun gossiping.

“That’s Helather and Henri, that damned boy’s parents.”

“I feel sorry for them. They are such kind souls but their son was such a demented little beast.”

“Don’t forget that he was a mage. Maybe that caused something to go off in his head.”

“Who knows, mages always do what they want with their power.”

“You can’t say that, there are plenty of mages who are good people. Don’t let this rotten apple ruin the esteemed mages’ name.”

“Look, are they just going to cry there all day?”

“I wonder who had the balls to kill him, a mage. This wouldn’t affect us would it?”

“Now that I think about it, what if his academy started some trouble over this?”

“We can only pray, but I have to tell you, it’s a blessing he died.”

“Right, when our town produced a mage for the first time ever, I was proud but after learning about his character, I felt sick to the stomach. I regret ever thinking he would bring glory to our town.”

…

The gossip continued unabated. Some people were even so brash as to openly shout out their opinions of Mahoj and spit in disgust.

Helather and Henri remained quiet and didn’t refute the townsfolks’ claims. They had heard stories about what their child has done and now it seem these stories were true.

After crying for a while Henri stopped and now stood guard over Helather and his son. He didn’t want to rush Helather but he felt it wasn’t a good idea to stay in front of the ever growing crowd.

Henri said, “Dear, we have to move the body and bury him somewhere else. This place has too many people and whoever did this to him would not stand for him to be buried here. They would probably dig up his body and do even worse things so we should go now.”

Helather responded through her sobs, “I understand, but let me have just a little while longer. Then I won’t cry anymore and I’ll be fine. I promise. Just a while longer.”

It was at this moment that Cyil had woken up and called out to Helather.

Cyil moved his arms to wrap around Helather and he said with more conviction, “Mom!”

“Mahoj? Is this really you? You’re not dead?” Helather couldn’t believe it. Mahoj had not called her “mom” for a long time now.

“Mom, what happened? Why am I here?” Cyil feigned ignorance and showed a confused look. He glanced around at the group of people who had their eyes bulging out and mouths hung wide open. “Why are there so many people here? Is there an event going on?”

When the crowd heard Cyil’s words, they almost choked on their own spit. “What in the Nakrul was going on?! He was alive? And he seemed...so innocent!”

Standing in the front row of the crowd, Ekraq and his wife both revealed looks of horror. Ekraq gripped his wife’s hand as her feet nearly collapsed under her.

“We have to go, now. We’ll find another town. But we have to get out of here, now.” Ekraq whispered to his wife who had yet to regain her composure. She only nodded and allowed Ekraq to drag her away.

After a moment of silence swept over the cemetery, roars of all sorts bursted out. Henri also couldn’t believe what he had heard or seen. Their son was actually still alive!

Henri, quickly suppressed his shock and the questions bubbling behind his mind and acted diligently. He hefted Cyil up in his strong arms with the gentlest of care and quickly ushered Helather up to her feet. Leading the way, Henri walked through the crowd that parted like the red sea.

No one wanted to offend the dirty, evil mage now that he was alive again. So although some had the courage to speak and shout, they hadn’t dare to say what they were saying previously. And those that had been talking too loudly before, hoped that Mahoj hadn’t heard any of it…

As Cyil was being carried in Henri’s arms, he felt safe and secure. “Could this be how a father’s embrace felt like? Would my father’s arms be this strong and warm?” Cyil thought to himself as he planned his next move to seamlessly explain his death and revival.

Cyil was quiet and so were his parents. Behind them, a long snaking crowd slithered along, waiting for any new developments. Alas, nothing happened and when the three disappeared inside their house, the crowd could only slowly disperse. Some decided to stay to see if anything would happen but they were few.

Inside of the house, Henri laid Cyil down on his bed, which had been kept nice and clean.

Afterwards, Henri and Helather stood awkwardly, side by side across from the bed. They were still a bit fearful of their son.

Cyil gazed at the two and sat up on his bed, giving the two a start. Cyil frowned as he saw this. He had a general understanding of Mahoj’s relationship with his parents and Cyil was definitely not going to continue along that path. Although Henri and Helather were not his real parents, Cyil felt that they had been mistreated by Mahoj and wanted to make up for this crime. Cyil had taken over Mahoj’s body, and although he wasn’t a great person by any means, Cyil felt he had to repay Mahoj in some way.

“Let this be a start,” Cyil declared to himself. Then, he got off the bed and slowly approached his parents.

Henri pushed Helather behind him and stood his ground against Cyil, whose head didn’t even reach Henri’s neck.

As Cyil walked closer and closer, the scenes from when he and his son had last met replayed in Henri’s mind. Although Henri could have beaten his son back then, he didn’t have the heart to do so. What if it affects his studies? What if he grows to hate and resent us even more? Questions and concerns gnawed at his heart so Henri, a rank 2 physical warrior, allowed his son to beat him to within an inch of his life.

Now Henri had the same thoughts going through his mind; but looking at his son’s pale face and tattered clothes, Henri released his clenched fists.

That was when Cyil made his well-calculated move. When he was only a few feet away, he jumped up and bear-hugged Henri.

“I’ve missed you, dad.” Cyil said from the bottom of his heart.