Despair filled the boy’s mind.

Despair numbed his senses.

Despair detached him even further from humanity.

A detachment and development more fatal for Foditas than the mages or even the volcano. Since now he had nothing left to protect in this town.

Nothing left …

Nothing left of value. Nothing left of importance. I can destroy it completely and prevent pain. At least pain for me. Look away mother. I’m selfish. I’m egoistic. Don’t despise me. Please - please - please …

He began crying as hopelessness forced his hand upwards and his eyes began to slowly change in colour as they darted around, traversing the infinite universes of his realm in desperate search of a measure to terminate all the suffering - all of his suffering.

When they finished, Astraeus’ blank eyes watched as his enemies were pushed into the ground, the rapidly increasing density of the air and magic pressure hurting excruciatingly on their groaning bones.

Slowly lifting his head into the sky, Astraeus watched as a meteor the size of the town itself was descending from the sky, flames tainting it in a red menacing colour of doom, the herald of death plunging through the clouds as if it was eager, as if it was thirsty for the annihilation it was about to wreak upon those petty mortals.

Smiling as he analysed the beauty of the object he summoned, the object which would wipe out Foditas and erase it from the map alongside its ten thousand inhabitants, Astraeus mourned for the uneducated people who’d die believing that they had revered the right thing and that their deaths were a punishment of the Angels for their wrongdoings, their innocence questioned and denied in their ultimate moments.

But he couldn’t show that he was mourning. The shell Astraeus Domitor, the shell of the peacebringer and apostle of benevolence had to be maintained at all costs … For it was the incarnation of years of harsh indoctrination and education that he couldn’t even shed in this moment of insanity.

Once again, even on the verge of death and destruction, he couldn’t discard the wicked behaviour his father had battered into him.

He hated his father. He hated the way he had been treated. He hated everything about the past, the past which was an endless road of suffering and agony. But despite this reasonable hatred, Astraeus was manipulated. He didn’t hate his teachers and father. Well, not solely at least. No, he hated himself.

Hate … myself. Hate myself. Yes, I did hate myself before. I really did. In-in Fides. Or Bereticum. Or in the arenas. Yes. Yes, maybe it would be better if I obliterated myself alongside these fools. Yes, I - I can, I could. Or …

To spare you his incomprehensible blabbering. Astraeus found a way to solve the crisis and imminent catastrophe.

I will have to deplete my reserves for the plan but it’ll be worth it. Or rather no matter the things I do and try, the outcome will remain the same. Everyone will … and must die. Sorry grandpa, but I can’t pull off an Infernia.

Suddenly the pressure was lifted off the two mages as they desperately gasped for air. Air which finally wasn't overflowing with voidal magic, a different kind of energy apart from the natural magic they were able to shape and grasp, yet the boy’s power was cursed and corrupted, it was too evil to be contorted by the mages whose souls weren’t malicious enough.

Stepping out of the rubble, Astraeus marched over to the mages, feeling that Darniagonus was once again gathering magic in his fists to repel the boy who slowly began to understand that the enemy’s magic was linked to his own magic, thus he made his own aura vanish and deprived his weapons of any remaining traces of magic to nullify his enemy’s ability.

“You said that you had hunted me for weeks. Does that mean that you know of my involvement in Bereticum,” inquired Astraeus in a measured tone once in hearing range, the cries around them slowly dying away as most people had either fled, died or were in the enemies’ grasp.

Without really replying, Facinerosus simply twitched and squirmed in utter bliss at his prey’s gradual comprehension of the whole bigger picture, one Astraeus would be slowly and painfully fed parts of through his wicked mouth.

However this sufficed as confirmation for the boy who was slowly falling back into the darkness he had so direly tried to escape, all the progress he made threatening to be eternally lost.

To rid his soul of his final doubts and fears, Astraeus told his enemies: “Since you observed me during my journey, you probably know of it, my incredible guilt. This is my last entrustment to you, to my first new friend since several years. I will kill you. With these young bare hands. A tragedy that our relationship had to end this way. I really hoped …”

His eyes flung open as he recovered from the stray path onto the right.

“I feel guilty - ridiculously guilty. For my grandfather’s death, my mother’s death - hell, even for my father’s death. I feel guilty for the deaths of the hundreds - thousands of people who died in Fides, Bereticum or even here in the town where I thought to have finally started anew. With you.”

Tears began streaming down the broken child’s face as he looked into his friend’s blank veiled expression, Fas’ eyes squinting in heinous pleasure.

Despite feeling the urge to let the traitor explain himself and his evil deeds, Astraeus couldn’t help but continue his accusation: “You should have been the one to pull me out of my darkness, out of my misery,” huffing and panting, Astraeus wiped off his tears before continuing.

“It is not too late. Those people,” pointing at the stone debris, the corpses protruding obscenely and twisting towards the sky from the rocks as if heaven would grant them any salvation, “I never really cared about them. My shell did. The thing that society wanted me to be did. I never did! So leave him and come with me. Let the children go and we’ll still go on our journey and we’ll explore-” “No.”

Silence.

Utter painful silence.

The world around the Domitor became agonisingly quiet as the shouts and cries of the last fleeing people turned into nothingness and reality apart from Fas and himself vanished into insignificance, the devil’s corrupting fingers tearing at his last strip of sanity.

Like in a bad dream, blurry and distant yet realistic and vibrant, the perplexed boy watched as Facinerosus turned around and grabbed a strangely familiar man.

Astraeus would only remember in retrospect that the man had been the fanatic rebel leader Caliguala.

Nonetheless, the status or political importance of the figure didn’t help him in the slightest as Facinerosus planted him on his knees facing our poor hero before slicing his neck with his green dagger, all the while laughing in a horrifying manner, one befitting of a psychopath, of a killer, of a coldhearted murderer such as him.

The laughter resonated off the forum’s surrounding building as it engulfed Astraeus, striking his heart with despair as he clutched his ears to make it stop.

But it didn’t.

Blankly staring at the sadistic man he used to call friend, Astraeus realised that salvation was attainable no more for his dear friend. His dear friend who had become his bitter foe, a danger for the world his family had sacrificed so much to protect.

Speaking in a low menacing voice, the Domitor announced: “My last hope for you has perished, Fas. No, Facinerosus. The person I have loved died just now. Nothing convinces me anymore that you’re just a misled, deceived and used child like me.”

Desperately containing his laughter, the accused replied: “But Astraeus, you’re totally wrong. I am no child. Pfffft.” The dams broke and maniacal laughter escaped the diabolical confinement of the incarnation of evil as the resonating sound shrieked inside Astraeus’ head, a pungent feeling of nausea spreading inside his body as he felt like puking or vomiting on the ground from disgust for the person he had loved, for the person who had deceived him, and thus subsequently for him who had allowed this deceit to happen.

After about half a minute of pure amusement, Facinerosus’ laughter subsided as he wiped off tears of joy which had escaped after the bliss he experienced following Astraeus’ ultimate affirmation.

With his high-pitched voice, previously humorous and joyful, now stinging and malicious, the orphan wickedly explained: “I really loved you Astraeus.”

Giggling after his statement he rapidly added: “No I haven’t. Never once did.”

As if thinking for a moment, Facinerosus paused before resuming by plopping his mouth: “Actually after thinking about the issue … no, still there was not one real emotion in my words and actions. I mean, who would want to be friends with someone as evil as you? Killing your own family over and over again, destroying towns and cities wherever you are, killing your own mentor on his first day …

“Tsk tsk tsk, Astraeus Astraeus Astraeus. Don’t you see? You are the reason why you have no friends or family. I’m no villain. He’s no villain. But you …

“It pains me to say this but all of my behaviour was but an illusion, a mirage to trick and deceive you, the devil’s child.”

Confidently walking up to the stunned mentally bleeding Astraeus, Fas laid his warm comforting hand on the boy’s cheek as he resumed: “I’m not even a child. I’m an adult, a trained killer for the elite, an assassin if you may prefer this vocabulary. To be less precise, I’m a deceiver of many kinds.

“Especially when it comes to tricking young broken boys into actually thinking that I care about their worthless lives.”

Hand sliding down the Domitor’s cheek, Facinerosus turned around, somehow certain that his target, his so-called prey, would remain in check for the time of his absolutely sadistic self-amusing revelation, ignoring - no, smartly negating - the immense danger which radiated off Astraeus.

“But you know Astraeus, at least you tried. You really tried your best to help me, a poor homeless orphan from the streets of the reeking shithole of Foditas. But - no, the actual funny part of this is that I never really was homeless … nor exactly an orphan but rather a noble, a rich lazy noble who enjoys tormenting people. I’m utter evil in its purest form. But you only saw what you wished to see. You didn’t even once question my motives or how I analysed your swords to see which you stole from your family’s treasury.

“It was too easy, Astraeus. You didn’t even give me a challenge. Why couldn’t you live up to your name and be a monster? Do you want to be a monster?” “No,” replied Astraeus silently with a hoarse voice.

Completely ignoring his prey, Facinerosus continued: “Probably not since you tried to help me and leave your past life behind. The life which was dictated by your father. The militaristic life - Ah ah ah, don’t do this, Astraeus. Do - not - do - this, my dear friend.”

“Keep your swift hand right by your side and don’t even try to grab your little infernal sword. Or else it will be very ugly.” The tone in his voice had nearly become lecturing, like a teacher mocking his stupid student for failing a test which was never solvable from the beginning.

Childishly swaggering to the hostages, the devious boy-man kneeled down in front of a sobbing girl with hazel hair and lurched forward with his lethal weapon, eliciting a frightened cry from the girl.

Astraeus twitched uncomfortably as he prepared to propel himself forward but stopped after realising that saving the girl was futile. Besides, Darniagonus had already witnessed his attempt and shook his head smugly as if to express that it would only lead to unnecessary death if he moved even a centimetre.

Remaining on the spot, Astraeus angrily watched as Facinerosus twisted his head backwards until his scalp faced the ground and the world was perceived inverted, his eyes sparkling with malice and antipathy.

Smiling, he moved to the side to show that he had clasped the girl’s mouth with his filthy hand and stopped the dagger not even the width of a finger away from her throat, ready to slice at the slightest of his whims, chuckling a bit at the shocked expression of his target, happy that his joke had succeeded.

Rapidly spinning his body in the air until he lay on his stomach on the dirty ground of Foditas, Facinerosus tossed his dagger into the air before it hit the rock beside his thigh with a clang.

“Your problem, Astraeus Domitor, self-proclaimed peacebringer and saviour of mankind, is that you have delusional dreams. These dreams include the idiotic hope of travelling with an orphan you basically don’t know through the world to the dream that you may be able to bring eternal peace to this world as you often liked to proclaim, didn’t you?”

This statement shook Astraeus out of his trance as even the truth in the boy’s horrible words was overshadowed by this information. An information so few people knew that it was impossible for them to know.

Determination in his firm voice, Astraeus demanded: “Who sent you?”

An expression of fright and uncertainty flickered across both men’s faces for just a split second which however sufficed for the boy to understand that there were higher powers than those two lackeys he’d have to worry about.

To confirm his dreads, the boy opened his mouth to ask another striking question but was interrupted by the duplicitous mage.

“Personally I think that we’ve talked enough, don’t you agree my dear friend?”

Astraeus wanted to reply and scream at Facinerosus that they were no longer friends but Darniagonus preempted the Domitor’s protest, threatening the boy: “Speak a word and they will die, only adding to your list of murders. This endless list, ha. Ha.”

Furthermore, Darniagonus took out a straight steel sword out of its sheath which was hidden behind the long robes.

“We will now begin your decimation. Stand still, do not block our attacks and let yourself be struck with divine fury. Else … very horrible things happen. Because of you. Like always. We don’t want history to repeat itself, do we?”

He pointed to his comrade who kept his dagger at the throat of a child, indicating which child would become a victim next if the boy should not listen to the older mages’ commands.

Walking over the few steps to Astraeus until he stood face to face with the boy, ominously looming over the short muscular child, Darniagonus extended his arm backwards, the sword whizzing through the air in a sharp trajectory past the man’s own back, nearly cleaving a wound into his own flesh.

The glinting hatred in his eyes intimidated Astraeus not in the slightest as the blade of the sword soared up to its zenith and shot downwards with rapid pace.

However Astraeus remembered his numerous unarmed training sessions against his mentors and teachers and quickly evaded the trajectory, grabbed the sword’s handle, disarmed the man and dislocated his agitated enemy’s wrist in one smooth motion, resulting in Darniagonus yelping and cursing as he clutched his aching hand under the boy’s unpitying gaze.

However after glancing to his side, Astraeus’ eyes widened in horror as Facinerosus proudly smirked at him, presenting him the crimson tainted blade of his dagger, the prince’s gaze moving down another bit as he saw the lifeless corpse of the girl from before lying in the mud of this pisshole.

A girl even younger than him, more innocent than him, more joyful than him. But her life was extinguished, her flame of hope and desire gone forever as her severed head rolled some metres away from her profusely blood-leaking carcass.

Hiding his broad yellow toothed smile, Facinerosus giggled: “Oops, so much remaining life, lost. All because of you.

“You are her murderer Astraeus Domitor. Not me, I was forced to do it … by none other than you.”

Darniagonus poured the same red liquid over his swollen wrist which he had used to heal Facinerosus’ broken nose and soon afterwards he could rotate and strain it to his heart’s content once again.

Once he was finished and retrieved his rapier, he repositioned himself before Astraeus, just like before and smiled in a brute uncivilised way unbefitting of the previous impression Astraeus had received from him.

They repeated the process again with the only exception that the veteran Domitor didn’t break any of the man’s bones but only evaded the strike, making it tinkle on the stoneground when the weapon collided with it.

Darniagonus angrily grumbled and rained down a volley of strikes onto the young boy who easily evaded them all. The fights in the Colosseum of Fides had taught him well, especially the fight against the prisoners who would have been executed nonetheless since there he could unleash all of his pent up anger and wrath.

Impatiently sighing, the impostor of a friend said: “I’ll tell you one last time, if you block those attacks, innocent people will die.”

This threat was reinforced as he shouted: “Don’t believe me? WATCH!”

Suddenly raising his arm, he threw a new dagger into the chest of a woman who had been busy tending to an old man whose constant coughing had annoyed Facinerosus and continuously interrupted his mental torture and his consequent pleasure from it.

But his display of power resulted in the exact opposite as the man’s coughs became more and more furious as the geezer feared death and felt it approaching his fragile old body.

Stricken by fear, the crowd on their knees began to whimper, the children burying their sobbing faces in strangers’ chests or laps as if not seeing their doom somehow made it disappear.

Cries of terror and fright, pleas of salvation and leniency, murmuring of confusion and despair.

From one moment to the other the hostages grasped the real severity of their predicament, the death of their townsfolk making the dire situation palpable.

“Mama!” cried several children in heartwrenching voices, their innocent life shattering right before their wet eyes.

Becoming increasingly unsure and indecisive about the course of the next actions, Astraeus lifted his hands into the sky as he accepted the painful route fate had prepared for him.

Facinerosus smiled and arrogantly mocked his target: “Wasn’t too hard, was it? I mean see the bright side of it. Now less people will have to die because of you.”

Clicking with his tongue, the trickster instructed Darniagonus to resume his assault.

Once again, sword drawn back, soaring through the sky until hitting the peak of its trajectory, the metallic blade dazzling in the sun, the enemy mage brought down the weapon with tremendous speed as it cleaved into the boy’s flesh, tearing through skin, fibre and muscle alike as nothing in its destructive wake was safe.

Eventually it hit the Domitor’s collarbone, but only after devastating most of his shoulder, ripping apart flesh from bone and skin from flesh.

Eyes widening in pure malicious joy at his prey’s dwindling resistance, Darniagonus repeated the procedure, slicing open the steadfast boy’s left thigh, leaving a deep diagonal gash with streams of blood flowing down his legs.

Dozens of times did the experienced bloodlusty mage repeat this torture until even he himself was exerted and needed a moment to breathe, the child’s body a pure mess of blood, severed pieces of flesh and limps and gushing intestines.

“No human could survive this much blood loss and this …” Darniaognus couldn’t even describe the state the boy was in, the closest word being demonic due to the utter abnormality it was.

Not horrified at the deed he wreaked upon a child’s mortal shell, but rather at the absurdity of his prey surviving his evil act, defiantly staring into his tremoring eyes, the old mage recoiled a few steps, until the fire inside his eyes was reignited again and he charged at Astraeus in a roar of rage and anger, imbuing his weapon with immense magic power.

A fatal flaw, Astraeus was certain of it. The sword would break since he saturated the metal with too much natural magic, causing it to bend and break.

And so it did.

Just as it reached its zenith for the I-don’t-even know-how-many time, a loud crack tore through the silence of the city which had returned after Facinerosus had shut everyone up who hadn’t initially died, fled, was stupid enough to be cleansed from the world by staying at home or was unlucky enough to be a hostage from those maniacs.

Due to the combustion of magic which was released back into the sky, the shattered sword’s tip flew opposite its direction towards the hostages as the boy could only watch as it plunged deep into a little girl’s throat, extinguishing the life in her frightful eyes and frail body instantly.

Suddenly the image of a dead girl’s body lying in the filthy mud besides a broken house and a dirty stuffed animal flickered through the boy’s insane mind as he blankly stared at the whimpering children and adults who backed away from the fresh corpse, no emotion escaping his iron facade, his unrevealing trained expression persevering as cruel memories flooded his mind’s confinement, a dominant feeling of nausea settling in his stomach, wrenching his guts over and over.

Yet the moment his concentration on keeping himself confined to his stationary position and low guard crumbled, his inner evil awakened, releasing his magic aura partially into the world as a thundering, roaring and quaking power of divine extent.

Buckling the buildings in the vicinity, effectively wreaking havoc onto the forum as any construct tumbled to the ground as powerful pressure crushed them between the unrelenting earth and Astraeus’ unrelenting might, he remembered the fateful evening at Bereticum.

However just as fast as his tremendous power had escaped Astraeus’ self-imposed prison, it subsided as he retracted it back to its origin, terminating the period of complete domination over Foditas.

As if to warn or remind himself, the Domitor prince whispered: “I have to always focus, always remain in control, always dominate myself or else the same thing will repeat just like in Bereticum … or in Genus … or in Fides.”

He lowered his head as the world around him turned to ash and dispersed in the reeking winds of darkness, of the noxious gusts of the abyss.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Whenever you are close to losing control, think about the way the strongest man of this realm was incapable, pretty pathetic in his ability to dominate anything but demonkind. Focus on finding your goal, your perfection. Don’t strive for perfection in everything. Because even God can’t boast with that.