To Lose

Chapter 15: To Lose

As I tighten my grip on Diago and Liara, another idea comes to me, one which wouldn’t involve draining the two wands I’m most connected to and should keep me alive. But I don’t have time to make this safe. I don’t have time to tell anyone what I’m about to do. I barely have time to do this at all.

I begin counting in binary, knowing that I won’t have time to be completely entranced before Anti-Magic mode kicks in.

0. 1. 10. 11. 100. 101. 111.

0. 1. 10. 11. 100. 101. 111.

Liara pulses; I shut her out of my mind forcefully. I have no time for her, either.

0. 1. 10. 11. 100. 101. 111.

I feel the magic being forcefully ripped from my body as I enter Anti-Magic Mode. The pain is nearly unbearable, but it must be borne.

0. 1. 10. 11. 100. 101. 111.

I cling to the numbers as a salve for my soul’s pain, but they are not yet enough. The numbers have to become enough.

0. 1. 10. 11. 100. 101. 111.

Though my eyes remain open, my sight is blurred and unfocused. I become distantly aware of the Battle Mages raising their wands… and of Marinelle running towards me.

0. 1. 10. 11. 100. 101. 111.

0. 1. 10. 11. 100. 101. 111.

The Drain spells aimed at me wrap around me and begin their return to their casters, exactly what Yesaré had said would happen.

0. 1. 10. 11. 100. 101. 111.

My ability to stay in this mode feels tenuous as part of me is aware of Marinelle getting too close; I try to hold on to the numbers to minimize the searing pain of magic separating from my being. It’s too late to do anything else.

0. 1. 10. 11. 100. 101. 111.

0. 1. 10. 11. 100. 101. 111.

0. 1. 10. 11. 100. 101. 111.

But then… she falls. And Anti-Magic Mode ends with a snap as I become fully aware of what happened: Marinelle—rushing to my aid—Marinelle—who could not know I was okay, would be okay—now crumpled on the ground as one of the Drain spells saps the magical energy from her being. The bliss of magic returning to my being seems cruel as I watch her body twitch, see her face writhe with terror and pain, hear her scream.

And then—her body stiffens, her scream ends, and her face molds into a permanent mask of agony.

My stomach compacts into itself and suddenly my lungs refuse to work. I am only the slightest bit aware of the one Battle Mage still standing, the Battle Mage who is raising his wand toward me for the second time.

This shouldn’t have happened to Nelle. She didn’t deserve this. She was so trusting, so full of joy.

Out of the corner of my eye, I’m aware of Edon running to the fallen Marinelle, but I see nothing but her corpse, taste nothing but regret, and feel only despair.

I reach for the numbers, the numbers that have helped me get through so much pain in the past: 0. 1. 10. 100—but what use are numbers now? No use!

Liara sends a shudder through my right arm. But what is the point of all this magic, all these nanos I have embedded in my body, if I couldn’t even protect her?

There is only a moment of pain as the Drain spell strikes me. It’s almost a relief actually, to have this finally end—the endless struggle to survive, to try and find my place in places that weren’t made for me.

But somehow this doesn’t end.

I feel Liara then, feel her pulling the spell into—

The joy of the sky and the breeze only heightens the sense of silence and desolation. The world is so barren since they left. The nothingness is unbearable. What is our purpose if we won’t be used? Are we to spend eternity in this desolate silence, existence devoid of any meaning?...

A sense of purpose infuses my being now as never before, as I am gripped by the hands of my Actor. She is beautiful and she despairs. Her soul sings for something it has not yet realized. The longing overcomes me and I do what is most dangerous. I am hers now, forever. She did not choose me. I chose her...

A sensation of what I can only describe as warmth and can only understand as affection flows through my right hand even as I feel Liara deaden.

The world I know floods my senses as I remember where I am and what just happened. I should discard Liara like the useless twig she’s become, but I can’t. I slide her back into my sleeve, and then I stand.

I allow myself to connect fully with Diago, the rush of magical power infusing my being, almost enough to overcome my grief. And I turn to face Emid, the one Battle Mage who remains—the Battle Mage responsible for the draining of Liara.

If Marinelle and Liara were still here, would they agree with what I’m about to do?

I stifle this question. They’re not here. And this man will understand that I am not a person to hate, to love, or to care for.

I am a person to be feared.

I release all of my anger into one spell, directed at Emid.

“Tsav!”