Mortal Magic: Broken

I still remember the day it all began, the day my life lost all meaning except for one desire that burned like a never ending flame in my existence. I remember the day that I lost everything to the hands of that monster that I ended up loathing more than anything, and the way he smiled as he came up with a way to torture me even more. I remember the flames that engulfed my whole world when he came and burned my whole village to the ground for his plan, and the screams of the people that died that night leaving their blood on his hands. I remember the hatred that filled my being as I helplessly saw him taking away the only thing that meant the world to me and how I hated that I was unable to fight for her safety. I kept watching as he tore her from our home and dragged her away like the monster he is; my magic ran out and I was useless against his. My little sister, she was barely ten years old at the time and up until now I don’t know if she is alive or not.

Since that night five years ago I lived in this hell with only one goal, one desire that I want to fulfill before I die. I survived through the pain, anguish and torture of this pit filled with the corpses of the men and women I had to slay to live one more day. For five years I have killed people telling myself that it was the right thing to do, I have sharpened my magic to become a weapon that could at least give me a chance to fulfill my purpose, trained my body to withstand the power that I sought and bared my mind from thoughts of guilt over the people that I have killed in the process. They threw a 13 year old boy in their coliseum and soon he became the youngest champion they ever had, and now they couldn’t even find someone to replace me. I have killed more people than I can remember, my body almost failing me more times than I can count, and yet my mind keeps edging me to become stronger so that I can escape from here and find him.

Every day was a nightmare since I came here, the stench of blood and death filling the air and the cries of people who knew they were about to die or lost someone they cared for still etched on my mind to this very moment, and there was no end to this nightmare. I hated this place, I hated killing innocent people for the sport of the twisted mages that supported that monster, I hated that I had to become their entertainment to one day be alive to kill him. But I did it anyway, the choice forced into my hand a long time ago.

In my time here I saw people from all around the five continents, I witnessed magical arts that I never dreamed existed, I saw the look of despair in their eyes as they died in front of me, either by my hand or because of their injuries. I learnt that magic can only be mastered, not learnt and every magus had his own kind, a unique skill in a certain kind of magic two in rare occasions or three the most. Yet I found no one that can use similar magic to the one I use. The only magic I am capable of using, projecting a transparent image of what is in my mind is something I have never seen before at someone. And even the things that I can project have to meet one simple rule, they need to be used as a weapon, be it actual that I have seen or imaginative that I envisioned, though every single projection will be an imitation. Every item will be hollow and easily breakable, but at the same time durable enough to withstand most misuse. Many think that they can just ignore the weapons I project and break them like glass, and that is their mistake.

”Hey worthless champion, you are up. Get your ass over here”. Once again one of the guards has come to take me to the arena where I could die any moment. I was the spectacle of the day, every day and every night for the rest of my time here and it could be short. I got up from the floor of the cell that they liked to call my quarters and got to the door where the guard was waiting by the door. They always kept me for last because I was the best and there was no point in pitting me against someone that had no chance, so they got me out there after they had lost the last of their worthless as they called them. Those who survived were put through extreme training for the next days of the week and after that they earned the right to get in the main force of the magus gladiators that everyone loved so much.

As I was lead through the stone corridors filled with sand and cobwebs to the entrance of the arena, I made sure that the many injuries I was about to try and fail to heal were kept under the many pieces of cloth that comprised my clothes and tried to make sure that my scars were covered as well. I was lucky enough to be able to project some kind of illusion on my body to conceal my wounds and survive the execution they would have in mind at their sight. Above all I had to survive to kill him. I had to survive to kill the bastard with the name Lars that ruined my life.

The guard kept his sword in his hand behind my back ready to kill me with the slightest provocation and when we got to the entrance he shoved me forward and I hit the iron bar door as he laughed. How pitiful all the humans were, taking pleasure from the pain of others, such a monstrosity named humanity should never have existed. Even me.

I was left alone at the door waiting for the unlucky person that I had to fight, emerge from the other entrance before my time came. The man that walked through the opposing gate was quite old maybe at his early to mid-thirties with long black hair, slightly taller than the average person having his fair share of muscles and fairly new clothes with no blood or cuts in them, no scars. This is his first time here. Wearing a short sleeved cotton shirt and long pants from brown leather, his body muscled, and slightly more tanned than mine blended perfectly with his clothing. He had this look in his chestnut brown eyes that said he was not going to die here but find a way to escape. I knew that look all too well, I had the same look in my eyes five years ago, and I still do. This man was in for a rough ride in this hell of a place.

The door from my side of the arena opened and slowly I made my way through the enchanted stone paved floor to the center with my eyes locked into the man before, specifically his eyes. I could tell he saw something in me that made him unease but this was only the start of what he had to see here. “And now ladies and gentlemen, another poor soul is about to leave our world. You now see before you one of the new additions, a magus from the eastern continent that most likely will die here today, and the beast that will end his miserable life, the young man who has conquered the arena becoming its champion”. The moment the annotator announced me I lowered my head feeling ashamed by the title I held here. There was nothing to be proud in it.

I heard the loud bang from the surge of magical energy signaling the start of our fight and every single person in the arena except from the other prisoners, started screaming in excitement and betting on the time the man will give out. At first we started making circles around keeping each other exactly in front of us. He didn’t seem like he wanted to fight and that would be his undoing. It was then that I heard his gruff voice and looked at him in the eyes again. “I don’t want to fight you son, it would be like fighting my own son”.

“Too bad, you don’t have a choice; I learned that the hard way. In here you either fight to survive or get punished for it at best if you don’t get killed”. I kept staring at him calmly as he seemed to finally grasp the fact that his life was at stake here. Still he decided to do the worst thing a magus could do in this situation.

“I’m Yuto, and my affinity in magic lies in fire”. He just gave me all the information someone needs to overpower a magus by knowing his skillset and kill him. He was making this way harder than I wanted, harder for me to kill him because he was acting different, more honorable than others. I lost myself in my thoughts for a mere moment deciding what to do and then I talked back to him. “My name is Archer and projection is my only skill in magic”.

“Nice to meet you, Archer”. He gave me a warm smile for a moment and then he stopped moving and took a defensive stance ready for my attacks. I stopped my circling at the same time and studied him for a moment. He was using one of the defensive stances of the eastern cultures residing in the eastern continent. Their fighting style was most complicated as I have come to realize and they can adapt faster than you expect them to. The eastern warriors were a force to be reckoned with, but so am I.

I chose to use attacks physical in nature for the moment to see his reactions and make him reveal more of his skills. I run towards him and the moment I got within range I started punching points of his body where the damage would be minimal and just an inconvenience to a trained body. After my first punch landed Yuto’s body jerked from the sting of the pain and he became evasive, to the point where I actually had to trick him to land any hits. Soon I decided to make the fight more demanding and got kicks in the game, and with them a far more agile and complex style that was the real way I fought. I unleashed every punch and kick in a burst of speed that disorientated the man and made him counter my moves to stay standing. He tried to block my punches and avoid my kicks but other than stir the direction of the battle to various places in the arena he wasn’t actually trying. “Keep that up and you will die really fast. Not everyone is as patient as me”.

By the look in his eyes I saw that my subtle warning got through to him and after a brief nod he started actually fighting. He tried to use my speed and weight against me by relying on my momentum to make me lose my balance and find an opening to attack. I gave him plenty of opportunities and he seized each and every one of them, punching me in the most exposed part of my body at the time, be it my chest, my back or my arms and legs. It didn’t matter as long as they got a spectacle out of us. I pretended to have taken enough damage to put some distance between us but in fact I was only making him look capable enough to earn the favor of at least some of the spectators, the pain I felt from each hit I suffered was fleeting to me. I took several steps back and held my left arm making a fake pained expression while realizing the thrill this fight brought to me. It was some time that I had an opponent capable like him. Deciding it was time to bring magic into the fray I reached with my mind inside me and felt the familiar tingle of my mana as it waited the moment I drew upon it to use it. I held out my right hand and used a small portion of mana to create a small sword from nothing, floating like a translucent purple ghost in the air before I wrapped my hand around it and held it pointing to Yuto. His face lit in excitement as he saw what seemed to him as a simple sword made from purple glass and his eyes sparkled in the sight. Many got that look before him, and everyone lost it when this seemingly harmless sword cut them like it was the real deal. I run to him again, this time with no intention of holding back my blade and he avoided me with much more grace than before. He was holding back more than this and he actually thought he was stronger, for now. I picked up my pace and his evasion started proving useless as my speed surprised him more than my projection. I was after all faster than most people due to the nature of my magic. My mana could enhance my physical abilities and make me faster stronger and much more from an ordinary human or magus could ever be.

Soon I let him feel the pain a projection could bring by making a cut in his forearm and spilling drops of his blood to the stone floor and in his face I saw the pain along with the realization in his eyes. He understood now that a simple mistake from his side and I could cut his body to pieces if I wanted. He kicked me in the chest to make me lose my balance as he stepped back, holding his forearm which I cut moments ago. He was finally ready to stop joking, he realized that he could die in this place now and I could see that he wanted to live no matter what. He wanted to leave no matter what.