Chapter 013

Trance

They mobilized in the dead of night.

Perched on the edge of a roof, the cold sticking to his fair skin, Rune silently waited for his signal. A vigilant gargoyle whose predatory gaze magnetized to the realm beneath him. All was quiet on Star Bell’s streets. The street lamps flickered with life, keeping at bay the night’s darkness. Follies of singing wind kidnapped lone scraps of discarded garbage off the pavement. And strolling calmly down the lonely sidewalk was the shadow mage herself. Ebony, with her crimson eyes gazing acutely ahead of her, slowly advanced; hands tied behind her back and an emotionless expression veiling her pale face. As the mechanic of their plan, she was obviously confident in its success. Of course, it also helped that she was a practitioner of one of the rarest and most powerful forms of magic there was. The girl could quite clearly handle her own if the situation took a turn for the worst. Nevertheless, Rune held his doubts firmly. Maybe it was because he was partially on edge, courtesy of the golem attack. Or perhaps, he just didn’t want anything bad to happen to the silent and anti-social caster. Whatever the case, his nerves continuously and rapidly amplified. He was the complete opposite of his so-called partner.

“Man, when are these nutjobs going to show?” Striker inquired, growing increasingly annoyed with every minute passing them by.

“Depends on whether or not they’re actually in the city?”

“Yeah, I suppose. And I trust you’re regulating your essence output, right?”

“Just as we planned.” Every magic-user possessed a limited supply of essence within them. Naturally, this essence radiated a signature other mages could detect. Combat mages, on the other hand, were trained to regulate their essence quantity levels, the most skilled being capable of increasing or decreasing their output. Should a mage diminish their essence’s output they in turn make themselves harder for enemy mages to detect. This was what Rune had been tasked with doing. As for Ebony, she concentrated on solely increasing the archaic spark burning at her core. Essentially, she’d become a beacon for any and all who viewed her as a target. “I don’t like this,” Rune muttered, shaking his head.

“Tell me about it, I hate reconnaissance missions. There’s hardly ever any action!”

His presence in and of itself was another catalyst for Rune’s anxiety. Though not a mage himself he was a veteran soldier; a highly skilled one at that. But as talented as he was with a firearm, he’d a tendency to “Lose his wits” as First Lieutenant Zenobio described it. Splinters of his unpredictable nature would occasionally materialize. May it be the deranged scowl he openly welcomed or the bizarre and methodical manner in which he caressed the trigger of the rifle he delicately cradled in his arms. Striker’s unhinged demeanor was enough to make Rune ensure there was a sizable amount of distance between them. The more his patience deteriorated, the greater the gap separating the soldiers grew.

“Actually, I’m referring to Ebony. I’m worried for her safety.”

“Really? Why? Oh, is it because you’ve got a thing for her?”

“Wh...What!” the mage stammered, his face turning red. “Why would you even suggest...”

“Ssh! Quiet, kid,” Striker whispered. “You tryna compromise our position?”

“It’s your fault for asking such a ridiculous question!”

“Relax, would ya? I was tryna to add some levity. Forgive me if I’m a little peeved after hours and hours of doing absolutely nothing.”

“Well suck it up. I doubt Griffin’s going to be happy if tonight doesn’t bolster any results.”

“Speaking of, I should probably give him an update,” Striker muttered, retrieving his radio from his waist.

Currently, their group was split into three separate units of which each was assigned the same objective. A mage would act as a decoy in order to lure their suspects out from hiding whilst the remaining pair prioritized subduing the culprit should they have the courage to make an appearance. James’ team, composed of Sabine and Hazel, was posted somewhere in the northern shopping district. Meanwhile, Rikter, Daze, and Philips took residence eastward near the train station. Rune’s team, however, had opened up shop a little way south of where the golem had attacked. Amidst the darkness, he could clearly identify the chunks of debris deeply lodged into the sides of buildings or poking halfway out of the street.

“Great,” moaned Stiker, putting away his radio. “Looks like the other teams are having as much luck as we are.”

“Thought so. I never expected this to be easy.”

“Never expected this would work from the start. If you ask me, Griffin gave Ebony a little too much credit. Her plan might’ve worked if we were dealing with your typical, everyday thugs. Sadly, that isn’t the case. Whoever we’re up against wouldn’t fall for such an obvious trick.”

“Or maybe they’re so desperate they’ll be reckless enough to target any unsuspecting combat mage,” Rune countered. “The reality is we’ve yet to uncover what it is they want or what they’re trying to accomplish. Let’s not lose faith just yet.”

“So defensive, I guess I hit the nail on the head earlier.”

“Not this again...” Rune groaned in annoyance.

“Come on, man. It’s not really a big deal. It’s normal for youngsters like you to fawn after each other. Ryas knows I have!”

Rune would’ve interrupted his nonsensical babbling had he not laid eyes on an observation that restrained his retort on the damp side of his lips. “Hey,” he whispered. “What’s wrong with Ebony?” On the opposite side of the street, they both found the shadow mage. At first, she seemed normal but eventually, a minute had passed and then another and another after that. She hadn’t moved. Hadn’t reacted to the stark coldness. Hadn’t so much as removed her crimson gaze from the cracked ground. It was as if she was frozen in time; trapped inside an invisible prison. “Something’s not right. I’m going down there to check on her.”

“Not so fast, Fireboy,” grunted Striker, grabbing Rune by his arm. “We aren’t meant to intervene, not before our targets. Or are you trying to sabotage the mission?”

“But she's...”

“Playing her part beautifully. Looks like all of our patience is finally paying off,” he grinned, staring at the petrified girl. “Now, a single question remains: Who had the misfortune of taking our bait?”

What existed in this new world was a red moon. A bleeding orb radiating a menagerie of crimson lights.

There was a rooftop proudly standing taller than everything else there was. A lone pillar of eternal concrete. Above the earth cloaked in mist. Above the shambling, forsaken towers. Above her complicated and checkered history. She knew not where she was nor how she’d gotten there. Though temporarily taken aback by her strange yet somehow familiar environment, Ebony soon became aware of who she’d become. The black uniform of the combat mages she routinely donned had disappeared. Instead, her mind dressed her in a silky, white nightgown decorated with splotches of red. In a single instance, the many years she’d experienced were erased. No more was she a seasoned magic user but a frightened and confused little girl shivering from the frigid gusts of wind crashing onto her skin, midnight hair blowing with the breeze. At the back of her cluttered consciousness screamed an ensemble of contrasting voices. They barked and howled with anger.

“Murderer!” someone screamed.

“Always knew she had it in her! Never trusted the freak for a second.”

“She killed him. That’s not a girl, she’s a monster!”

“Let the military handle it! Criminals should pay for their crimes!”

She’d heard these lines millions of times. They replayed in her head every night as she lay in bed staring helplessly at the ceiling, praying for even a second of silence. They visited whenever she foolishly started to believe she’d finally deserted her past. Voices of dread whose hunger knew no end. They served as a cruel reminder. A person like her didn’t deserve happiness nor should she be allowed to have it. As the years went on they bothered her less and less. They, much like the memories she refused to bury, she theorized, would accompany her until the day she met Ryas herself. She couldn’t dispose of the pain, not anymore. Having grown perfectly accustomed to the unending commotion, she’d grown content with being the tortured soul she was today.

But for some inexplicable reason, the voices were much louder than normal. The shouting had evolved into an uncomfortable wail. The rage they carried with them penetrated her shell of indifference and ravaged her very being. Roads of salted water cascaded like a waterfall over her cheeks. Festooned within the incomprehensible discord, his voice burst through loud and clear. “The day you opened your eyes was the darkest day of my life, Ebony. Your very existence was a mistake. The much respected and beloved Vincent name! Why did you feel the need to curse it? Do you detest me so greatly you long to destroy everything I’ve built?!” His deep, unforgiving tone made Ebony flinch with fear. Her breathing became heavy. Her legs quivered. Without mercy, the bombardment of insults and swears assaulted the powerless young mage. “You seek to take responsibility for the crime that was your birth? For the life you’ve stolen? All of it?” the voice asked. “Is there even a shred of humanity left inside you, girl? Or have I really raised a devil from the pits of the Abyss?”

She frantically nodded her head, droplets of tears flying in every direction. “N...No! Give me another chance!”

“And what makes you think you deserve it?”

“Please, I beg you!” she cried, retiring to her hands and knees. Pressing her forehead onto the ground, she screamed, “I’ll do anything you want! Anything you can think of! I promise! I won’t disappoint you! Never again!”

“Really now? Then there’s only one thing you can do. Pay for ruining our lives by ending yours. Prove how much we mean to you! Let us see your loyalty, monster! If you truly have remorse for your actions, return to the pits of hell you crawled out of! Then, and only then, will you have my forgiveness. You’ve jinxed the Vincent Family for too long. I’m ready for our suffering to cease, what say you?”

Ebony lifted her head and stared at the sky. “...If I do this, will the pain finally stop? Will everyone finally be happy?”

“We shall,” the voice confirmed. “Now go. Get it over with already.”

What happened after death? A question she’d constantly contemplate. Especially since she’d considered taking her own life on more than one occasion. She imagined it’d be peaceful. She liked to think he wasn’t lying. That her pain, her agony, would finally be over. Her desire to make good on her word, to use her gift for the benefit of others hadn’t disintegrated, mind you. But at present, what solely clouded her mind was a sensational lust for relief. She’d grown tired of the rejection, suffering, and blood. If her death would not only alleviate her internal discord but also restore her family to its former glory, then why would she hesitate? What more was there to mull over? And so, with a crooked grin, she started on her fragile trek to the edge of the rooftop. “Yes, excellent work, Ebony.” His voice brought with it comfort as well as reassurance that her decision was indeed correct. Dirty, bare feet carried the girl closer to her final destination with only poisonous compliments to provide company. “Keep going, Ebony. You’re almost there! Free yourself and us, your family, of your burdens. This is what you want, isn’t it?”

Her smile grew even wider. “It is...”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Mere inches from the roof’s end the girl stared down into the black chasm. A spiraling vortex of smog and screeching, faceless souls. If it were a prison then it was truly where she belonged. Should it be a portal to the unholy realm below, then at long last, a demon would return home. It was just as she’d been told over and over again. Her birth was a mistake. Her existence bred suffering. If she couldn’t find happiness in the land of the living, then maybe she’d find solace in the Abyss. Not wanting to betray her ideals, Ebony closed her eyes, inhaled slowly through her nose, and prepared to make her last step.

It was between this brief interval of life and death that the stranger chose to speak.

“Mighty fine night, isn’t it?” She belched an astonished gasp, frantically spinning around to gawk at the only other living being on the roof. He was a man dressed in a uniform as dark as the long, watery strands of hair veiling a large portion of the right side of his face. He observed her quietly, shooting only a puncturing cerulean stare. “It’s pretty late for a little miss like you to be out on your own. What would your parents think? I’d imagine they’re worried sick.”

“No...” Ebony corrected. “They are not...”

The stranger sighed. “Why of course they aren’t. I’d wager they couldn’t be happier.”

“Wh...What?!”

“It’s the truth, no point in hiding it. Take my word for it, kid. I know a thing or two about keeping secrets. The longer you imprison them, the longer you're forced to suffer. It’s no way for a human to live. In fact, it’s a fine way to drive yourself to the brink of insanity. But before anything else, how about you do me a favor and move away from the ledge, yeah? I’ll take you someplace safe.”

“To prison, right? You’ll take me to prison?”

“Please, I'd never throw a brat like you in the slammer. Give me some credit.”

“Stop trying to trick me!” she shouted. “I’m aware you’re a combat mage! And I know they ordered you to capture me!”

The stranger pulled out a lighter from his pocket and held it to the cigarette poking out his lips. With a sharp click and an orange flicker, a wavy trail of blue smoke made its way to the heavens. “You’re not as naive as I thought you’d be. Guess this makes my job a lot trickier, huh?” the stranger complained, expelling streams of smoke out his nostrils. “Listen, Red, I’ll level with ya. Yes, I was told to bring you in but you won’t be in any trouble.”

“H...How can you be sure?!”

“You had a magic rejection. An inevitable accident for mages of your level. If anything, your parents are to blame for not giving you proper magical counseling. So you don’t have to be afraid. Come with me and I’ll help.”

“I can’t...”

“And why not?”

“I’m cursed, don’t you get it? I’ve killed someone and shamed my family name forever.”

“The Vincents? Nah, they’ve had a shoddy reputation long before you showed up, sweetheart.”

“It doesn’t matter! They cast me out. Called me a monster. And they’re right.” Ebony slammed her grim cloaked hands onto her sodden face, collapsing to her knees. What filled the night next was the sound of her defeated, belligerent sobs. “Because of me, an innocent man is dead!” she yelled. “Why should a freak like me be allowed to live when I’ve caused so much grief for everyone? If I don’t do this, it’s only a matter of time before I hurt someone else!”

“So you say,” muttered the stranger. “Tell me, Red, is this your heart’s desire? To die? To end your journey when it hasn’t even begun?”

Through moist lenses, Ebony stared at him and wept her inquiry, “What other choice do I have?”

“Who knows? But I can sure as hell tell you taking a nose dive into the Abyss won’t solve anything,” he shrugged. “So you’re cursed, are you? To tell you the truth, I’m kind of offended.”

“W...Why would you be...”

“Well, if you’re cursed then it means so am I.”

“You must be confused,” Ebony whimpered. “The magic I have, it cursed me and my family. It brought them pain so I...”

“Oh, give me a break!” the stranger grunted. “If you ask me, whoever fed you that crap is the real criminal. Magic isn’t something you should be frightened by. It isn’t a curse to be shunned; it’s a gift to be nurtured.”

The tip of the stranger’s right forefinger lit up, radiating a pulsating light. He traced his finger in the air, drawing a flickering ring of azure-colored energy. For a brief instance, an emblem appeared at the center of the ring. A symbol that, at least to Ebony, resembled crashing waves. As the magical circle exploded into sparkling particles, the stranger raised his hand above his head. Surging out his palm into the night were numerous ribbons of shimmering water currents. They painted the rooftop blue. The youthful ribbons twisted and turned, curved and frolicked. They constructed a bud, petals, leaves, and an elongated stem. Ebony’s eyes gleamed as her gaze captured the bizarre yet alluring sight. Hovering in midair was an enormous flower composed entirely of water.

Though she could hardly believe what she was seeing, the enamored girl managed to utter a single word of appraisal, “Amazing...”

“It is, isn’t it? Now how can something like this be considered a curse?” he snickered. “For us mages, magic is a paintbrush; the world, our canvas. It can be as beautiful or as dangerous as we wish. Our job is to simply refine, control, and keep the balance,” the stranger smiled, admiring his magical craftsmanship.

Somehow, Ebony pried her stare from the flower and to the mystery man. “Could I really make something so wonderful? Even with my cursed power?”

“You can do anything you want. The fact of the matter is, I sense real potential in you, Red. A bit unrefined and it’ll help if you build up some confidence but, with time, I think I can turn you into an excellent mage.” The water flower dispersed into countless orbs of vapor that drizzled onto them both, dampening their sets of dark hair. The mage took another puff of his cigarette and said, “Or at the very least, one who knows how to better utilize their gift.”

“I don’t understand. Are you saying, you’re going to train me? Why?”

“Cause I believe in second chances,” he replied bluntly. “I’ll ask again, what does your heart desire? To die?”

Ebony dropped her gaze and stepped from the ledge. “No, I don’t want to die.”

“Then what do you want?”

“To repent,” she answered, reluctantly strutting closer to him. “Someone like me can never hope for redemption. At the very least, I want to make up for the travesties I’ve committed. Can you help me?”

“Probably,” he answered, picking his nose. “If this is truly what you wish for...”

“It is!”

“I see. If so, then perish the thought of dying or rotting in some cell. I’m gonna make you a combat mage.”

“A combat mage?”

“Right. We use the gifts Ryas bestowed on us in order to serve and protect our country. I can’t guarantee it’ll provide you with the peace of mind you might want or need, however, it could help with putting all this behind you. So, what do you say?”

“You’d be willing to do this for me? I haven’t even told you my name.”

“Nor have I.”

“Uh, my name’s Ebony Vinc-, no, just Ebony, I suppose.”

“Well, Ebony, you can call me Zac.”

“Zac?”

“You got it. From this day onward, you shall be my apprentice,” he said, resting a hand atop her head. “Free yourself from your shackles of grief and march forward to the future fostering a disposition befitting of a mage. Right now, you might feel as if everyone is against you. Like Ryas herself has abandoned you. We know better, don’t we? When in the Abyss of despair our light must shine through. Etch this vow into your heart and remember it even in your darkest moments. Ebony Ashborn, I’ll show you what it means to use magic.”

“...Ashborn?”

“It’s my surname; a symbol of our new relationship,” Zac smiled. For the first time in a long time, Ebony felt completely at ease. Like she was safe from the world longing to break her. She knew next to nothing concerning this stranger and yet she darted at him with a hug her family dared not to give her, wrapping her tiny arms around his waist as tightly as she could. In these fleeting seconds, not even the chilling winds could freeze her deteriorating heart enveloped in warmth. Her sudden embrace must have come as a shock to the combat mage as it took him a while to respond. Resting a hand on her head again, he grinned, “Follow my teachings well, Red. I’ll help turn that curse of yours into a blessing.”

“I will, Master.”

“Master, aye? Has a nice ring to it!” he laughed. “Alright, first things first. Ebony, you’re gonna need to wake up now.”

“Wh...What?” she stammered, staring up at him in confusion.

“I’ve kept you long enough, I’m afraid,” he continued. “Come on, Red. It’s time to get back to work.”

As bewildered as she was, everything soon became clear.

Unsheathing her eyes, what first she heard was her name. Someone was shouting it over and over again. Unlike the screams of anger trapped in her head, these were different. They sounded concerned, wounded. Her vision cleared alongside her consciousness. She stared upward at a blanket of black and glittering golden stars. Reality had returned and the crimson was no more. “Ebony!” the voice said again. The figure was fuzzy at first but once he leaned in closer, his worried expression became all the more apparent.

“Rune?” she vulnerably inquired.

“Yeah,” he smiled. “It’s me.”

“Wh...What happened?” Ebony sat up and instantly grabbed her pounding scalp. What she remembered last was patrolling by herself. Following that was a blur of darkness. “The mission,” she muttered. “What about the mission?”

“You needn’t worry, my dear,” said Striker. “Looks like I underestimated you. Your plan worked like a charm.” She steadily rose off the ground, trembling fingers kissing her temple. The soldier named Striker, one of James' most trusted allies, had given her quite the shock. No, it was more so that she was startled to see who he had tied in rope. They started the mission as a trio. Now, they were a quartet. His Gyrakian skin and gold-tinted eyes glistened like gemstones underneath the moon. His forearms were cloaked in bandages and he was dressed in a black, torn coat. There was also a dagger with a crooked, silver blade strapped to his waist. He returned her curious stare with a pain-filled grimace, spitting at her a ball of blood out of his swollen mouth. “We caught this rat trying to bag you while you were hypnotized.” The Gyrakian muttered something in his native tongue and scowled at Striker. The soldier himself paid their enemy no mind. “Once we spotted him he proved to be no trouble. Weakling barely put up a fight.”

“He was using this.” In Rune’s hands, he carried an old flute carved out of wood. It didn’t seem like anything special but, based on the magical aura she detected shrouding the instrument, she realized it was enchanted indeed enchanted. “It must’ve placed you in a trance of some kind. It’s probably how they’ve been capturing the other combat mages as well. By lulling someone into a comatose state it makes them easier to kidnap.”

“They can’t beat us in a real fight so they resort to using these devilish tricks. The cowards!”

Ebony cut her stare from their Gyrakian prisoner and asked, “Have you informed Major Griffin or any of the others yet?”

Striker cursed. “Nope, I haven’t been able to get through to them. I think there’s another mage in the area interfering with our radios’ signals.”

“Yes, that might be so. Very well, allow me to be of use.” Her tome ignited in an inferno of purple fire. The enchanted book flew in front of her and opened to the page containing the spell of her choosing. Its lines of text were illuminated along with her left eye. Essence flowed through her body, her midnight hair flying inside invisible currents of air. Concentrating solely on her magic, the mage chanted, “Umbra couno!” as a sheet of darkness flooded from the bottom of her boots and expanded around her, creating a murky and bottomless pool. “I’ll travel to the major's location to update them of our progress.”

“R...Right!” Striker stuttered, more than likely put off as she began disappearing inside the shadow puddle. By contrast, Rune hardly reacted. He looked like he was distracted, or rather, conflicted about something. Regardless of whatever was troubling him, the mission came first. It wasn’t until only the upper half of her head poked out of the abyssal geyser did she affirm, “We’ll be back as quickly as possible!” before completely diving underneath her magic spell. The shadows departed afterward, racing down the street and disappearing into the distance in the blink of an eye. A lone streak of blackness raced across the silent town.

In truth, Rune should’ve been overjoyed their strategy had worked.

Instead, he forged a scowl. He waited until he was absolutely certain Ebony had left. He couldn’t risk her interfering with what he was about to do next. Things could get complicated. Rune glanced over his shoulder at Striker behind him. The soldier was preoccupied with tightening their captive’s restraints, the Gyrakian assaulting him with a barrage of foreign insults of which Rune could only understand a handful.

“Striker, assuming we catch these guys, what will happen to them?”

“Huh? You’re asking me this now?”

“I'm just curious.”

“Well, they’ll most likely be taken in for questioning and then sent off to Golmirch to await their trials.”

“Right,” Rune nodded. “So how long would it be before a humble combat mage like me would be granted permission to speak with them?”

“Hard to tell,” Striker replied, scratching the back of his head. “A year and a half, at the earliest, maybe.”

A spiraling passage of wind washed over them, blowing back Rune’s blonde hair. Releasing a sigh, he surrendered his chin to the ground. His heart drummed faster. His magical energy surged. His vision became cloudy. “I’m sorry,” he muttered under his breath. “I don’t think I can wait that long.”

Burning with vengeance as well as magical energy, Rune’s right eye sparked to life.