CHAPTER 4 - GUARDIAN SPIRIT
CHAPTER 4 - GUARDIAN SPIRIT
All I could do was watch and try to figure a way out of this situation, which did not look like it would end well for me. I was completely stuck, both magically and physically. My wandless magic was laughable, and I had no idea how to escape this place or how many people were here. In the end, all I could do was watch in horror at what I could guess would be a ritual involving blood and sacrifices—something pretty much all fantasy worlds would call dark magic.
"Try not to die too quick, kid. It's annoying having to dispose of you filthy brats," growled one of the men as he strapped me down.
"All yours, sir," they said to a man standing in the corner, observing everything.
"Leave us!" commanded a raspy voice that sounded almost inhuman.
As both men left, the figure turned towards me and said, "You will be a step on the path to create the ultimate weapon for the Dark Lord, you filthy half-blood. Be grateful for this chance or die for his glory."
He turned around and walked to his own position just above my head. He pulled out a silver dagger and started chanting in a low murmur. The words were foreign and eerie, sending chills down my spine. Suddenly, he used the dagger to slice my wrists. Pain exploded, and my mind went into overdrive, trying to think of something, anything, to stop myself from panicking.
I tried to remember everything I’d practiced. I focused on my Occlumency, visualizing the fortress in my mind, the guards, the traps, and the protected magic core. I forced myself to breathe deeply, trying to stay calm despite the searing pain.
The chanting grew louder, and I felt my blood being drawn out, pulled towards the symbols on the ground. The glow from the blood runes intensified, and the entire room seemed to pulse with dark energy.
“Focus,” I told myself. “You have to focus!”
Drawing on every ounce of willpower, I tried to channel my magic. I imagined it flowing through my body, pushing against the restraints, fighting against the dark forces at work. The pain was overwhelming, but I couldn't give up.
The figure leaned closer, his eyes glinting with malicious satisfaction. “Your sacrifice will pave the way for the Dark Lord’s rise,” he hissed.
“No,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I won’t let you win.”
Summoning every bit of strength, I concentrated on the flame I had practiced conjuring in my cell. I envisioned it growing, spreading, enveloping me in its protective warmth. To my surprise, I felt a small spark of heat in my chest, and the pain in my wrists lessened slightly.
“Impossible,” the figure muttered, noticing the change. He chanted louder, faster, desperation creeping into his voice.
The spark inside me grew stronger, fueled by my determination. I could feel the magic pushing back against the dark energy, fighting for control. My vision blurred, but I held onto the image of my fortress, the walls standing strong against the assault.
Suddenly, a brilliant light burst from the center of the ritual circle, and the figure was thrown back, crashing into the wall. The glow from the blood runes faded, and the room fell silent.
I lay on the table, panting and drenched in sweat, but I was alive. The restraints had been loosened in the blast, and I managed to free my hands. My wrists were still bleeding, but the wounds had stopped gushing.
Staggering to my feet, I looked around the room. The figure was unconscious, the silver dagger lying at his side. I grabbed it, holding it tightly as I made my way to the door.
I didn't know how many people were in the dungeon or where the exit was, but I had to try. I had to survive. The flame inside me burned brighter now, a beacon of hope in the darkness.
As I stepped into the hallway, I vowed to find a way out of this nightmare. I would get stronger, I would fight, and I would escape. For now, I had to focus on one thing: surviving.
"Et tandem intrat sanguinem predonum," the hooded man intoned with disturbing excitement.
The blood circles started to glow, becoming liquid again. It crept towards my slit wrists, crawling into my body. The sensation was excruciating, as if every vein and artery were stretched to their breaking points. When the blood finally reached my heart and spread throughout my entire body, it felt like I was on the verge of bursting. I used every ounce of magic I had to try and diffuse the blood, preventing myself from exploding like an overinflated balloon. It took all my will not to scream out in agony until, at last, the pain began to subside.
"Oculi tandem intrat rapax," the bastard holding the knife chanted, his voice filled with malicious glee.
Without warning, he slashed the knife across both my eyes.
For a moment, I froze. It just didn't compute. Then the pain hit, a horrifying agony that was quickly followed by the sheer terror of the situation. I screamed, the sound raw and primal, echoing off the stone walls. Despair flooded me until I felt a cold liquid being poured over my face, intensifying the pain. It felt like my eyes were being simultaneously pulled out and shoved back into my skull. I screamed again, my throat feeling raw and torn.
Through the haze of pain, I heard the hooded man laughing. The piece of shit who had taken my sight and inflicted this agony was ecstatic, his voice filled with twisted joy. It was as if this was his birthday and he had received everything he had ever wanted.
"Yes! Suffer! This is the price you pay for your pathetic existence!" he shouted, his laughter echoing around the room.
Rage boiled within me, mingling with the pain and fear. I focused on the flame inside me, the tiny spark of magic that had grown stronger over these months. I had to survive this. I had to get stronger. I had to fight back.
With a final, desperate push, I summoned every bit of magic I had left, focusing it on my eyes. The pain was unbearable, but I forced myself to keep going. Slowly, the sensation changed. The agony lessened, replaced by a strange, tingling warmth. The liquid on my face seemed to be absorbed into my skin, and I felt a new kind of energy coursing through me.
The laughter of the hooded man faded into the background as I concentrated on this new power. I didn't understand what was happening, but I knew I had to control it. I focused on my mental fortress, visualizing my defenses standing strong against the assault.
Gradually, the pain subsided, and I felt a strange clarity. My vision returned, but it was different. The world around me seemed sharper, more defined. I could see the hooded man clearly, his face twisted in a grotesque smile.
"Impossible," he whispered, his eyes widening in shock.
Summoning the last of my strength, I broke free from the restraints and stood up. The pain was still there, but it was distant now, overshadowed by the fury burning within me.
"You will pay for this," I said, my voice low and filled with determination.
The hooded man backed away, his confidence faltering. "Stay back, you freak!"
Ignoring his words, I focused on the magic inside me, letting it flow through my veins. The flame had grown into a roaring inferno, and I could feel its power surging through me. I took a step forward, and the air around me crackled with energy.
The hooded man raised his hands, chanting a spell, but I was faster. With a flick of my wrist, I sent a blast of magic towards him, knocking him off his feet. He crashed into the wall, his mask shattering on impact.
"You... you can't..." he stammered, struggling to get up.
But I was already moving, my anger fueling my actions. I grabbed the silver dagger from the ground and stood over him.
"This is for my eyes," I said, my voice cold and unwavering. "And for every child you’ve tortured."
With a swift motion, I plunged the dagger into his chest. He gasped, his eyes wide with shock and pain. I watched as the life drained from his eyes, and he slumped to the ground, dead.
Breathing heavily, I dropped the dagger and took a step back. The room was silent now, the ritual circle still glowing faintly. I had survived. I had fought back.
But this was just the beginning. I knew there were more enemies, more challenges ahead. I had to get stronger. I had to find a way out of this dungeon.
As I left the room, I vowed to myself that I would never stop fighting. I would escape, and I would make sure no one else had to suffer like I did. The flame inside me burned brighter than ever, a beacon of hope and defiance.
I don't know how long I was in this limbo from hell, but it finally stopped. I could only cry without tears as they untied me from the table.
"He lived! The boy lived! He's the first to make it this far, haha!" the piece of shit exclaimed, as if he had just gotten his dearest wish granted.
"You two idiots outside! Get him cleaned up and send him back to his cell! He is now the most important subject in this place!" he commanded while I simply tried to get my bearings, the pain still assaulting me.
I heard the door open and footsteps nearing me. I felt the blood on my body being magically cleaned away, and then they followed the same procedure as when I was brought up. This time, I was in such shock that even without a full body bind, I wouldn't have moved.
They dumped me back into what I assumed was my cell. Feeling around, I located the bed and climbed onto it, curling up and trembling at how everything had happened so quickly. Questions swirled in my mind: How could I even learn magic while blind? What would these bastards put me through next? The certainty in that bastard’s voice when he called me the most important subject assured me that he had more plans for me.
In the silence of my cell, I tried to gather my thoughts. The pain was still there, a dull throb reminding me of the ordeal. But I couldn't let despair take over. I had survived, and that meant I had a chance, however slim, to fight back.
I focused on my Occlumency again, visualizing my mental fortress. I imagined the guards, the traps, the fortified vault protecting my magic core. Despite the terror and pain, I had to strengthen my mind. I had to prepare for whatever came next.
Blindness was a new challenge, but I wouldn't let it break me. I needed to adapt, to find ways to sense the world around me without sight. My magic, weak as it was, would be my guide. I had felt the spark of power before; I could feel it again.
I started by feeling the magic within me, the energy flowing through my veins. Slowly, I tried to reach out, to sense the magic in my surroundings. It was faint, but it was there. I focused on that sensation, trying to make it stronger, clearer.
Days passed in a blur of pain and practice. My cell became my world, and I used every moment to train my mind and magic. I practiced moving small objects with my mind, reaching out to sense the presence of magic around me. It was slow, frustrating work, but I was making progress.
I could hear the footsteps of the guards and the sound of doors opening and closing. I learned to anticipate their movements, to avoid their attention. I practiced my Occlumency, strengthening the walls of my mental fortress, preparing for any intrusion.
One day, as I sat in my cell, a new sensation washed over me. It was as if the magic around me had shifted, a subtle change that I could feel in my bones. I reached out with my mind, trying to understand what it was. The feeling grew stronger, more defined, and I realized it was a presence, something or someone nearby.
"Who's there?" I called out, my voice trembling.
Silence answered me, but I knew I wasn't alone. The presence was still there, lingering just beyond my reach. I focused harder, trying to connect with it, to understand its nature.
"Can you hear me?" I tried again, my heart pounding.
Slowly, the presence seemed to draw closer, as if responding to my call. I felt a warmth, a comforting energy that eased the pain in my body. It was unlike anything I had felt before, a gentle touch of magic that soothed my soul.
"Help me," I whispered, tears streaming down my face.
The presence enveloped me, filling me with a sense of peace and strength. It was as if a guardian spirit had come to my aid, lending me its power. I didn't understand what it was, but I embraced it, letting the magic flow through me.
With this new strength, I vowed to keep fighting. I would survive, I would grow stronger, and one day, I would escape this dungeon. The flame inside me burned brighter than ever, fueled by the mysterious presence that had come to my aid.
As the days turned into weeks, I continued to train, guided by the comforting presence. I learned to navigate my cell with my other senses, to feel the magic in the air, to strengthen my mind and body. The road ahead was long and filled with dangers, but I was no longer alone. With my unseen guardian by my side, I had hope.
And with hope, I would find a way out.
The only way I could fall asleep that night was by forcing myself to use Occlumency. I delved into my mind, relieved to still be able to visualize it clearly. I navigated through the familiar corridors of my mental fortress, down to the deepest chambers where my core memories from my past life resided, and where my magical energy, which powered everything within me, lay dormant.
As I reached the chamber where my magic core rested, I was taken aback. My magic core, responsible for containing, distributing, and absorbing magical energy, had changed dramatically. Instead of one, there were now two cores, and they were each at least four times the size of my previous one. If my old core had been like a baseball containing mist, these new cores resembled basketballs filled with incredibly dense mist.
I studied them carefully, trying to comprehend the implications of this change. It was unprecedented, a transformation beyond anything I had read or heard about. Was this the result of the ritual? Or was it something else, something innate to my new form?
Despite the uncertainty, one thing was clear: my magical potential had increased exponentially. The additional magical reservoir would allow me to cast more powerful spells, channel more energy, and perhaps even perceive and manipulate magic in ways I had never imagined.
But with this newfound power came a sense of urgency. I needed to learn to control it, to harness it without succumbing to its overwhelming force. I couldn't afford to draw attention to myself prematurely; I had to bide my time, continue training in secret, and wait for the right moment to make my move.
As I withdrew from my mind, returning to the quiet confines of my cell, I felt a flicker of hope. Despite the horrors I had endured, despite the challenges ahead, I had been given a gift—a chance to fight back, to escape, and to seek justice for those who had suffered alongside me.
With renewed determination, I settled into a restless sleep, my mind racing with plans and possibilities. Tomorrow would be another day of survival, of training, and of preparing for the inevitable confrontation that lay ahead.
The next morning brought with it a renewed sense of purpose. I woke with a clarity I hadn't felt in weeks, my mind buzzing with the possibilities of my newfound magic. The twin cores within me pulsed with energy, a constant reminder of the power now at my disposal.
I spent the day in quiet contemplation, refining my Occlumency skills and exploring the depths of my magic. With each passing hour, I grew more accustomed to the sensation of having two magical cores, learning to synchronize their energies and draw upon their combined strength. It was like learning to wield a double-edged sword—potent and dangerous if mishandled, but infinitely more effective in skilled hands.
As the days turned into weeks, I continued to hone my abilities in secret. I practiced wandless magic, experimenting with spells that seemed beyond my previous capabilities. With each success, I gained confidence, knowing that I was growing stronger, more resilient.
Yet, amidst the SALitude and training, a nagging question persisted: What was the purpose behind the ritual that had changed me so drastically? Why had I been chosen as the "most important subject" in this place? The hooded figures' words echoed in my mind, a constant reminder of the danger that still lurked within these walls.
I knew I couldn't remain hidden forever. Sooner or later, they would come for me again, seeking to exploit my newfound abilities for their own dark purposes. But I was no longer the helpless child they had abducted months ago. I was a survivor, a fighter, and I was determined to escape this dungeon and put an end to their tyranny.
One night, as I practiced my magic in the dim light of my cell, I felt a subtle shift in the air. The presence I had sensed before, the comforting energy that had aided me in my darkest hour, returned once more. It was as if my unseen guardian had been watching over me, waiting for the right moment to reveal itself.
"Who are you?" I whispered into the darkness, reaching out with my senses.
A gentle warmth enveloped me, like a soothing embrace. Images flashed through my mind—memories of a distant past, of battles fought and victories won. There was wisdom in those memories, a knowledge of magic and ancient lore that surpassed my own.
"You have been chosen, young one," a voice echoed in my mind, soft yet resonant. "Chosen to wield a power that few can comprehend. Embrace it, and you will find the strength to overcome any obstacle."
I listened intently, absorbing the words with a mix of awe and determination. This guardian spirit, this ancient presence, seemed to offer guidance and reassurance in equal measure. It spoke of a destiny intertwined with mine, of a path that would lead me out of darkness and into the light.
With renewed reSALve, I vowed to trust in this unseen ally, to draw upon its wisdom and strength as I prepared for the inevitable confrontation ahead. The time for hiding was over; now, I would face my enemies head-on, armed with newfound magic and the guidance of my guardian spirit.
As dawn broke over the horizon, casting a faint glow through the small window of my cell, I stood tall and took a deep breath. The flame inside me burned brighter than ever, fueled by hope, determination, and the promise of freedom.
"I am ready," I declared to the empty room, my voice steady and unwavering. "Ready to confront my fate, ready to fight for my freedom."
And with those words, I began to plan my escape. The dungeon walls no longer felt like an impenetrable barrier; they were merely obstacles to be overcome on the path to liberation.