For a moment, nothing happened. Then, like a concentrated fire, my entire body began to burn. I threw myself to the ground, but the fire didn’t end. All around me, I was overcome with a feeling that was telling me that my body was being burned alive. I flailed on the ground in my desperation to turn the fire out. But it kept growing. Growing and growing until it was the only thing I could feel.

I screamed, but from my mouth came nothing. My limbs themselves seemed to dissipate into nothing more than the background. I could see the man holding me against the floor, but that hardly seemed to matter. Desperately I tried to throw myself to the side but nothing seemed to work, nothing seemed to help.

-7

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

My eyes opened. There was nothing to see.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Carefully, I placed a hand underneath me, on solid ground. Only, there wasn’t any ground beneath me. As I picked myself up, I stared down towards my reflection. The darkness below me rippled with a small center of light as my feet shuffled.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

In-front of me stood a doorway. From the appearance of it, it had been standing there for centuries. Parts of it were crumbled from its age. There were markings too. An ancient scrawling of words I could not comprehend. As I walked closer, the markings began to shift, carefully aligning until they came out in the tongue that I was born with. And perhaps I had been unable to read before, but these markings, they changed that. Into my brain they suffused themselves, changing my understanding of the universe around me, until inevitably, they came out of my tongue. Slipping were the words, and once they left, I could not remember them. All I could remember was the fact that I had a choice to make.

Slowly, I grabbed the dilapidated handle upon the door. The decay became obvious with the grime that leaked onto my hand. Old rust and the hints of dust. With my hand against the door, I twisted to the side. The handle collapsed against the ground, but the door swung wide open.

Within that abyss, I found something new staring towards me. There in the distance sat the mask. One I was certain to have been wearing just moments before in my memory. Walking forwards, I grabbed the mask. Dark obsidian glittered in my hands, yet the eyes shown with the light of a fiery red. A Twisting oases of pure emotion sat within those eyes. An emotion I had yet to ever understand.

The compulsion to wear that mask slowly rippled underneath my brain. An understanding of the consequence echoed from some place far off. In those seconds, upon which the world around me began to change, a debate warred within the inner machinations of this dark abyss.

At the end of that process, I was standing in the middle of a war. Not the true image of a war, but a simulation. Men stood all around me, dying left and right. Somewhere within that war, however, I stood. A brave warrior in the middle of the chaos, with a sword shining in the same gleam of darkness as my mask did. Cannon fire shocked the earth around me, and yet in seconds, I was able to swing the blade and rip my adversaries in half. No mortal weapon seemed to slam against me. In that arena of carnage, I was surviving.

Yet what would I lose? Became the question, leaking around the earth around me. It was the thing that made up the blood and gore. It was the thing that reeked of the dead. The question arose to meet me, as I studied that battlefield.

He was a farmer. An ancient man that sat against the side of the land. He had a smile on his face, as he culled his crops and collected what was his. There was magic in him, to be sure, but it was always in the background, never having the need to become prevalent in his life. The image of him was an image of me. Unlike the other image, however, this one was a lie. I stared towards that image, and I knew in certainty that that was something I could never become. For that was merely a hope. A hope that could not assuage the growing war that I was about to enter. There was a simple fact that was presenting itself in-front of me. I would not survive if I did not take the mask.

Sighing, I looked back down to the mask. I knew now that both images were a lie. But only one of them had a chance of ever becoming true. With enough practice, I could become that warrior. The sword would not be mine until I found it, of that much I was certain. But the magic would be. And the magic would protect me in the situations I needed it. That was what mattered the most. So I looked down at that obsidian mask, and carefully fitted it onto my head.

The world around me began to change then. Distortion shattered against the scenery like a pane of pottery falling against the floor. A darkness seeped through the cracks, falling deeper into the visage of the mask. Then, a blinding light began to expose itself. The true make of the land. The rage and desperation, the fear and torrenting need, all rushing forwards into the eyes. Thousands of men and women who had all fought for their lives under the make of the mask, all now rushing into me. Their souls and their power, lying dormant within the very center of my eyes. For just a moment, I began to understand. For just a second, all of those rushing emotions became similar to all of the ones that I had felt myself. My mouth opened to shout, and just before the lyrical symbols of pure true power could rush from my lungs, everything fell into the darkness once more.

-7

When my eyes awoke me once more, it was later still into the night. A mage sat at a desk, and the sounds of celebration could be heard from outside the door. Drunken cries of delight, and the fall of fists upon fists. Men and women before their marches into death.

The memories of my experiences leaked themselves from the forefront of my brain, as I slowly sat myself up. From his place on the desk, an old and weary mage looked over towards me. There was a moment of understanding, and the door opened behind me.

“I am afraid, with the power that you possess, I may not be able to help you. Yet, I can give you the slightest piece of advice, if you might take it?” He looked me in the eyes, and I only now came to the realization that I was still wearing the mask.

“Yes?” I asked, as my limbs disjointed themselves from my side, and I began to pull myself from the laying position that I had found my body in.

“Magic is dangerous. For any form that it takes, it could always turn against you, and the people around you. I suggest that you use the most proper caution when first learning how to use your own brand of magic. In a battlefield it might be difficult, but if you wish not to kill the people that you care for, exercise the best caution that you might,”

I hadn’t needed to be told that, but I appreciated it nonetheless. I nodded, before turning to leave.

“Oh, and one more thing,” The man said, as my back was turned to him, “Please do enjoy the rest of the night. You will not have long left to enjoy such pleasantries,”

-7

Tim sat across from me as the bandwagon began rolling. His eyes were bleary, and he had his head leaned to the side. I could almost feel his pain rippling throughout my own body. Unlike him, I had not taken to the pleasantries of a a beverage made of alcohol. If anything, the taste was purely atrocious. Yet when I’d found him the night before, he’d been singing along merrily with the rest of the soon-to-be knights. An amusing sight to be sure, when watching from the outside.

We were dressed in the best armor that might be provided, which for certain was not much. Chainmail below our shirts, and old helmets upon our heads. When looking at the way we were armored, it was hardly a surprise that the battle would be brutal. Some of the other men were beginning to understand the situation.

I looked over to our left, upon which the third of our age sat. I’d almost forgotten about him, in the last couple of days. He had a tired look upon his face, but otherwise, the worry that the others seemed to face did not seem etched upon him at all. It was an interesting sight. Perhaps he simply didn’t care for his own life. Or failing that, there could be something else going on within his mind. It was curious, to see someone so lackadaisical about the coming situation.

As for myself, I studied the others as a way to make sure I had no reaction to the things in my chest. It was the easiest way to hide the steady beating of my heart, as we moved further and further away from the kingdom. Soon, we would be forced to fight in a war. Soon, we would be thrown forwards with hardly the slightest of regards for our lives. Soon, we’d be under the rule of Generals whose higher-ups might not even know how to run a war. It was a scary prospect, in all of the proper deeming honesty.

Everyone else had their swords within their sheaths. Mine sat in my palm. I held it not up, but kept the point upon the floor of the bandwagon that we sat within. There were three, carrying us off to probably death. I kept my sword in cause of a surprise attack. You never knew when someone could be hiding in the forest. It might be the thing to save me, as it would not surprise me if the enemy decided to attack us whilst we were carting down an isolated path.

The others were talking, but I could not find the room to move my tongue. Perhaps they did something as such to dissolve the tension. It only grew the worry within my own lungs. My heart was beginning to pound harder. I looked over to Tim. He was still nursing his headache, and staring resolutely down. Yet staring down towards the ground of the cart that we moved within was certainly a way to leave yourself blind to enemy attacks. I tried to tell him this, but he only flipped me off.

When we were only a few feet away from where we’d be stationed for the coming days, my heart was practically leaping out of my chest. Somewhere in the distance of my own body, I could feel it shaking. A positive humming moving throughout my response to the situation. Opening my mouth, I tried to cry out that we could be attacked at any moment. Before I could get the words out, however, we arrived at camp.

There were tents with men and women walking around clearly. To the left was a tower that had been erected for the Generals of the camp and their superiors. People disembarked from the carts, and made their way for the five Generals that stood running the place. They were the men who would give us our orders.

We would only be staying here for a couple of days, as it turned out. As the last of the forces supplied to the Generals, we would be moving southwest towards what one of the scouts had described as an enemy Mage Camp. A place where young Mages were taught how to use their abilities for the war. Our orders were to ‘destroy the camp’ which in and of itself likely meant ‘kill all inhabitants, no matter how young’.

Which meant our first outing as Knights would be simple. Or, as simple of a mission as we could make it. I was beginning to walk away when one of the Generals called me over. The man had a puncture wound in the middle of his face, and an entire part of the left side of his eye was burned. He looked to me with narrowed eyes.

“I was given information that you have access to magic?” That damn mage.

“Y-yes,” I replied.

“Do you have any control over it?” The man asked, his tone the slightest bit sharp, “If you do, I’d like to know sooner rather than later. You could be an amazing asset,”

“I don’t,” I said honestly.

“If you did, you’d have a less likely chance of dying on the field. I hope you understand that,” Even if that wasn’t necessarily the most truthful statement, I understood what he was getting at; if I had magic, I’d be around the Generals more often, given the fact that the Generals were more skilled within the efforts of war, I’d have a less likely chance of one of my allies messing up and getting me killed.

“I understand that I’d have more competent people around me. I hope that you understand that that’s something I’d actively want. However, I will not lie and present the chance of getting the people around me murdered. I hope that you’d understand that,”

Narrowing just the slightest bit more, the man nodded, “Perhaps you’d best train those abilities then. Once we descend upon their camp, I suggest that you find a way to bring back one of their mages as a Prisoner. Could do you well,” With that, the General walked off, commanding some of the other soldiers in the camp.

I watched them leave, before walking over to Tim. He was wielding his sword carefully, staring towards a dummy that sat in-front of him. I walked over and studied the swings and drawbacks that he was practicing. The only thing that we’d been taught really, was what he was doing at the moment.

There was a dummy sitting to his left, and I carefully balanced my own sword. The swords weren’t custom fitted, but it was obvious that they’d made swords for people of our size in the past. Tim slammed his sword into the side of the dummy, and it rocketed backwards. I did the same to my own, before realizing something rather obvious.

“Tim!” I shouted out to the boy who, seconds earlier, had been lost in the drawls of a hangover; did they have remedies for that?

He looked over to me, sweat glistening, and absolute exhaustion rimming around the red in the edges of his eyes, “Y-yeah?” It seems that they did not, I marvelled at his perseverance before sharing my observation.

The boy smiled, before looking around the camp. A man was rushing passed us, and he jogged over to him. When he stopped, Tim asked the question that was rather important to whether we would be allowed to do this or not. When he came back, he was smiling.

“Over to the left of the camp they have a sharpener,” I nodded, and then rose my sword into the air.

Tim smiled, before rushing forwards. The second that our swords collided, I understood the difference between a royal and the son of drug addicts. His sword slammed directly into mine, and I stumbled backwards. Before I could even react, he swung the sword again, this time to my left. Quickly, I was forced to duck downwards, and throw myself out of the way. But his sword kept coming, slamming straight towards my neck. It stopped right below my chin.

“If you’re gonna fight so weakly, I think I might need another sparring partner,” Tim said with a smile.

I snarled as I picked myself up. Baring my sword again, I swung towards him. He dodged backwards, but I rushed forwards with the sword. I swung it from the left, forcing him to back away and dodge in the direction. Using as much of my strength as I could, I followed up the strike with a punch. It slammed straight into his jaw, forcing him to fall backwards. Quickly, I threw the blade forwards, placing it against his neck in victory.

From the ground, the other boy stared at me in shock. I didn’t understand why until the haze in the center of my mind slowly faded into the background. As that hate seemed to slip away from my momentum, I pushed backwards. In understanding, I stared at the edges of the air around me. There was a buzzing of darkness and red in the air that hadn’t been there before.

“I…” I stumbled backwards, pushing away from Tim, “Yeah, i-it’s probably best that you find a different sparring partner, I’m…”

“It’s the magic, isn’t it?” Tim replied, as he pushed himself off of the ground, “I’ve heard of magic changing people’s responses to certain emotions. Most of the time it happens to be on the people around them, but I guess. I guess yours affects you instead, huh?”

“Yeah. Dude, I’m… I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to,”

“Save it,” Tim replied as he pushed himself up, “Magic is magic, and you’re new. You won’t be able to control it for awhile. So long as you don’t murder me, I don’t think I’m allowed to blame you in the beginning. Just...Try to channel your anger at our enemies instead of our allies, yeah? You’ll get a chance to let loose soon enough,”

-7

It was later that night. Our bedding was better than the Hole, but we were stuffed with the hundreds of Knights around us. The air smelled of sweat and grime and days without showers, which was only partly behind how long my eyes had stayed open. I sat within the dark, with the snoring and the gentle breaths all around me. There were some men talking within their sleep, yet still, that was not what lasted upon my mind.

That anger from earlier, and the fact that I had not recognized it, not even known what was happening. That was what left me pondering within the twirls of my mind. So I sat there, staring towards a mask that floated in midair. At the very least, it was one of the few things I had control over. Or rather, I was able to summon it. I knew not how to use it yet. It stared with red eyes. Red eyes of desperation and hate. The emotion practically poured around the mask, solidifying into the very air of those two reds. The obelisk of pure darkness however, it resembled something else. A shape I knew not, yet one I was far too familiar with.

In that mask, my mind provided many questions. I had been given absolutely no explanation as to its nature, or what exactly it meant. So here, within the dark, I attempted to gleam at least the slightest hint as to the truth. The truth of it, and what it wanted. Yet here, in this land of snoring faces and leaking dreams, I found nothing. And eventually, I too drifted into the great expanse of dark. Tomorrow would provide a day of work, and plenty of things to force me to forget my questions. Tonight, however, they flew into the air, projecting a plethora of different theories, all lost in the sun’s inevitable rise, as memories of dreams shifted into actions of waking.