Chapter 43: What am I Doing?

Chapter 43: What am I Doing?

Stryg rubbed his hands to gather what little warmth he could. Snowflakes danced around him in a muted gust of wind. He sat perched on the rooftop of an old house in the commoner district. It was late, or rather quite early, the sun would be rising soon. He had been here for the better part of the night, waiting quietly for his opportunity.

In retrospect, he should have brought blankets from his apartment, but it was too late for that. He wished he could create a fire like his master. Instead he was shivering like a newborn, with only a thin grey cloak to keep him warm.

The door of the house across the street creaked open. This was it. Strygs patience was finally about to pay off. Karens mother stepped out from the house, holding a basket.

Stryg had wondered what would be the best way to make Karen talk. Should he threaten her mother, attack her, or kidnap her? With the mothers life on the line, Karen would be sure to talk about the whereabouts of the rest of her gang. Despite spending the night on a snow-covered rooftop, Stryg had been unable to make a decision.

Karens mother looked back at the house, Hurry up, well be late.

Coming! A small mass of bundled winter clothing waddled out, Mommy, this is too much. I can barely move.

I dont want you catching a cold.

Can I just stay home then? Its freezing out here, the small child complained.

Your dad has been working all night and will probably keep working throughout the day. He needs something to eat. I would have sent Karen, but your sister hasnt come home either. So, I need to go and I cant leave you alone.

Im already 8 and 3 quarters, I can handle myself, the child pouted.

Im sorry honey, I cant leave you by yourself, there could be dangerous people just waiting to catch you! The mothers fingers launched a tickle assault.

The child giggled and tried to run away, but her mother caught her in her arms, Nooo!

I got you! The mother kissed her daughter on her chubby green cheek.

After another bout of laughter she set her daughter down.

The child pointed at the dark road ahead, where the morning suns rays barely reached. What happens if the dangerous people are over there?

Ill protect you of course, to my dying breath, the mother placed her hand over heart proudly.

I don't want you to die! The child cried out.

Its just an expression, sweetheart. Im not going anywhere. Come on, lets get going, the mother held her daughters hand tightly.

Stryg watched the scene unfold with surreal wonder. Was this what other children behaved like? How a mother treated her child? It was foreign, puzzling, raw. The daughters eyes were full of curiosity. Had he been like that as a child? Naive and innocent to the dangers that lurked in the shadows? And was he the one who would take it away from her?

What am I doing? Stryg muttered to himself.

The world was cruel and without reason, Stryg had learned that at an early age. But, this moment, this action, was his to control. Karen might be guilty, yet these two were innocent. Karen was an enemy, she had to die, and Stryg would be the cause. But, these two didnt have to be involved, not directly. Stryg sighed and turned to leave. Hed have to find another way.

A pair of undead sentinels walked around the corner and spotted the mother and child. The cloaked guardians shambled towards them. The little girl hid behind her mothers skirt.

Its okay honey. I thought they would be gone by now, but we have our nameplates. The mother patted her childs head. She reached into her basket and pulled out a small iron nameplate, Let us pass please.

The sentinels did not slow their advance, instead they raised their iron chains. The mothers eyes widened as the blood drained from her jade-green face. Her eyes darted around in panic. She wasnt sure she could outrun them, her daughter certainly couldnt. There was only one thing she could do.

But, Stryg decided to change the topic. Professor, earlier this morning I encountered a pair of sentinels who refused to acknowledge a nameplate.

Where? Sentinels rarely fail in that regard, but it has been known to happen. It must be dealt with at once. We cant have innocent people getting attacked.

It was in the commoner district.

Oh, thats good. Nevermind then, Gette sighed in relief.

I thought you said you didnt want people to be attacked?

Of course. But, theres no need to rush. There is scheduled maintenance that happens every few weeks for the sentinels. The commoners can afford to wait.

...I see. Stryg understood. The weak were given no importance. It was no surprise.

By the way, you shouldnt try so hard in your spell casting. Its obvious you dont have talent for necromancy, Gette noted.

Stryg chuckled to himself. Growing up he didnt have talent for anything. But, it never stopped him from trying. He needed to get stronger, it was the only way to achieve his dreams.

I managed to make the arm move. Its a start, Stryg said.

No, its a failure. It has nothing to do with your skill as a mage. Its talent. Different chromatic colors and their spell forms require different kinds of talent. Youre sorely lacking when it comes to necromancy. Im surprised that you have been able to do this much already.

So, what, I should just give up? Stryg frowned.

To be a mage? No. To master the necromancy spell form? Yes. Most definitely. You may not have the talent to master the entire range of black spell forms, but among all the 1st year black magi you have shown the greatest skill. Your recent improvement of the shadow spell form is comparable to late 2nd year students. Believe me, you are better off spending your time focusing on your shadow spells, instead of necromancy.

I dont want to give up, Stryg clenched his fists.

He had given up before, accepted defeat. It didnt end well. This was his new life, he didnt want to go through that again.

Then you leave me no choice. You are banned from practicing necromancy in this class, Gette stated.

What? Why? I thought professors are supposed to help us learn?

No, we are supposed to help you become successful magi. Currently your best chance at that is shadow magic. Youll thank me later. Gette cupped his hands and shouted, Class dismissed!

Stryg sighed in frustration. Even his choice was taken from him. He was simply handed the failure. Stryg stayed seated on the bench long after the rest had left. Perhaps Gette was right. His shadow magic had been improving a great deal lately, thanks to his anger-based meditation. Still, the loss stung.

Stryg stared at the human corpse on the metal table. He recalled the books and their details of the muscles, bones, and sinew that ran across a humans legs. He brought the image to focus, his will desiring for it to move. Then he remembered his anger, remembered Karen and her gang. How they had ambushed him. The mana within responded to his emotion.

Black mana began to flow from Strygs heart and into his arms. He remembered his tribe and how they had beaten him, time and time again. He remembered First Mother and her cruelty, Cruvors fake vision and lies, the poacher who had taken him from his forest.

Mana surged into his veins in a flood of power. His chest began to burn with the overwhelming ethereal energy. He took quick shallow breaths and focused on the corpse. The legs began to tremble. At an agonizingly slow pace they began to raise one at a time. Stryg fell to his knees in pain, but he kept the spell going. He had to focus, he was so close.

Stryg, stop, youll kill yourself! Loh shouted from the doorway.

His masters voice pierced through his concentration, shattering the spell. The corpses legs flopped onto the table. Stryg collapsed in exhaustion.