Severing A Connection

[WuHanXianShi14 0]

The past had stopped being a coherent thing a long time ago. To Artimec, it was nothing more than a jumbled and disoriented series of old sights, sounds and other senses.

 

He remembered hiding. A fox prowling in the woods, a tree among many in the forest, or as just another seemless part of an unsuspecting stone wall. He remembered deceiving. When the emotions of others had been open for him to bend, he had used that to his advantage. Influence over fear, happiness, anger, all to get his way.

 

More than that he remembered the thunder, and the jagged flash of the raw power of lightning. He remembered the first time he'd seen it coursing through his palm. This was no longer an illusion, this was real, and could kill.

 

And kill it did.

 

Artimec had become comfortable with taking life long ago, and this was no different. So he told himself. As the air popped with static and living beings stood rigid in front of him, lightning coursing through their veins, screaming as the life was fried out of them, violent spasms marking their death throes. This was no different, just a tool.

 

The people he killed deserved to die, but no one deserved to die like this.

 

Artimec was perched on a branch on one of the many massive trees marking Cerulin's skyline. His head dipped down and his eyes closed as he pondered alone, objectively.

 

Why did I take this path?

 

It was expected of him, of course. He remembered the face of Polgrath, the wise old master, and all the other old, hazy, almost forgotten guises of the denizens of Ac'talarah, an old home long lost. They wanted a mage to lead in the footsteps of the old Mindlord. A simple swordsman would not be enough.

 

Is this path right for me now?

 

He had been one with the void for so long. It almost seemed like it was always there, ready to connect if he ever needed it. He couldn't imagine being anyone else. And yet-

 

The leaves of Cerulin's trees swayed lazily in the wind, as did the grass below. Crabs skittered on the seaside and deer grazed, unafraid of the elven denizens going about their daily lives. No. This path did not suit him anymore. Not him, nor the people he was trying to cultivate.

 

He closed his eyes. The presence of the void was still there, tempting him back. But it was fainter now, more distant.

 

He knew that eventually, the connection would die away entirely, and he could begin anew.

[Ford 1996]

Archibald gives a solemn nod. "At least now your muscle mass could potentially return. Getting swole is your first priority when disconnecting from the void, friend. Never skip arm day, because it's time to make up for all that mass you lost."

[Gunner 775]

Moved to the Archive. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.