Symphonic Odyssey

It all seemed so surreal to him. Cypher found himself standing in a white room surrounded by beds. Nurses ran back and forth, weaving between the empty rows to deliver items he couldn’t bother to look at. His hands, balled tightly into fists shook uncontrollably at his sides. The stark white of his knuckles stood out against his caramel skin despite the layers of dirt that still clung to them. His lips were dry and there was a heavy almost crushing pressure in his chest as he shuddered with each breath.

His eyes, however, found only the bed that contained his friend. His ears heard nothing, save the pounding of his own heart and a ringing that would not stop. Three nurses stood before the bed, each tending to the unmoving body that lay upon it in their own way. Radiant pink light danced around the room as they worked, and the seconds melted away into minutes.

A few of those soundless minutes passed before someone grabbed his shoulders and led him away whispering words of comfort he could not hear.

He couldn’t remember the journey back to his room, nor could he remember who had guided him there. His thoughts were focused only on what he had done, the moment replaying itself over and over in his aching mind.

The bright flash of the crackling blue light. The smell of burning hay and wood. The choked sounds of Alex as he tried to speak through his agony. He had known better than to pull a stunt like that. Casting his lightning bolt spell at such a high level of power was stupid and childish.

He had destroyed the Gaelin stone the first time he had used the spell. Granted the energy of that spell was completely contained inside the stone and had no outlet but even still, he knew that the spell packed quite a punch from that interaction. Why then had he chosen to ramp it up to an unreasonable level?

Perhaps to impress the others? Perhaps to prove that he was worthy of being there among them all? The fact that he knew a spell was enough to do that all on its own. How many other first-years knew a spell? Even more than that, how many first-years knew a spell that happened to be a subset of the fire element?

Such a rare and powerful spell was more than enough to impress even the haughtiest of nobles. No, the reason he had cast that spell was his own hubris. He had never been one to feed his ego before, and yet here he was, showing just how foolish he could truly be by giving into a desire to show off.

His mistake had cost him dearly and now all he could feel was remorse for his actions, and worry over the fate of his first and only friend. The world around him fell away as Cypher retreated into his Athenaeum, the walls of his mental space comforting him somehow despite the endless throbbing that seemed to reverberate through them.

A few cracks could be seen around the edges of those ethereal walls, and the lantern would flicker every few seconds. His mental energy had been nearly expended during his attempt to hear the strained words of his injured friend, and the snapback had damaged the overall structure.

The damage was minimal but not insignificant. Still, it was quite a painful injury. The mind was not as strong as the body, it was after all an ethereal construct. Even slight injuries could hurt an incredible amount.

Cypher would be fine after some rest, though. He hadn’t noticed the damage at first, and even if he had, he wouldn’t have cared in those moments. His distraction was so great that he didn’t even feel the pain of those cracks anymore.

The sun had long since fallen behind the horizon in the time after the accident. Cypher still had no idea if Alex was going to be okay, or even if he was still alive, and he sat in place on his couch for the entire night. Eventually, though, the grey clouds of his Athenaeum consumed him, carrying him off to a reluctant sleep. As much as he desperately wanted to, he did not dream.

The next afternoon was just as silent for Cypher as the previous evening had been. Cypher didn’t attend his enhancement class. He had slept right through and awoke at noon only to return to his shocked state. But even if he hadn’t he likely wouldn’t have gone anyways.

For hours he simply sat in place on his couch, not even bothering to eat or drink. He couldn’t do anything but worry about Alex and now new thoughts consumed him as well. For a time the only thing he could think of was that moment, but little by little new emotions wormed their way through his consciousness.

The feelings whirling around in his mind confused him. He had only just met Alex, but the two had formed a fast friendship that had changed him despite the small span of time they had spent together. It was more than that though.

Cypher had never wished to hurt anyone, let alone kill them. That position had changed a bit both after his battle with Gelath and when he had decided to become a Conductor. Inflicting injuries or death was part of the territory. He knew that someday, he would have to come face to face with that facet of the art. Pretending otherwise was left to the realm of childish fantasy and unrealistic dreams of being a virtuous and noble knight.

No.

Those aspects, the innocent naivete of a child, had been long left behind him. He knew now that the world was not some fantasy where justice always prevailed and one could stay their hand from bloodshed. Ultimately, he could get over it if he was defending himself. He believed it was justified, or at least warranted if he was protecting himself or others. It was fine if others had given him his orders, instructed him to complete some dangerous task and enemies had appeared bent on ending his life.

In situations like that what choice was there but to stop holding back? Doing otherwise would only get him killed. This time though… This time was different.

This hadn’t been self-defense.

It had been an accident. A terrible, unfortunate accident to be sure, but if he had taken the time to temper his power it would not have happened at all. His desire to show off had overridden any caution he might have had concerning his abilities. Yet another remnant of childhood naivete.

Now that he had actually injured or perhaps even killed someone, could he still justify becoming a Conductor? Danger was part of the job. It was one thing to kill a Zightbeast, but humans, innocent humans, they were different weren’t they? How could he willingly become a part of a system that constantly caused harm to others?

It was wrong he decided, to hold the fates of others in his hands. If he stayed on this path, one day he might possess unimaginable powers, powers he would be required by duty to unleash upon others. The morality of that situation was dubious at best in his mind.

What else waited for him, however? He already had the power to kill commoners. Hurting Alex had been an accident, but what would happen if he actually tried to hurt others? What if someday he strayed from the path he had read about in those silly children’s stories back at the mansion?

No, it was too dangerous. Maybe he could seclude himself somewhere and prevent this kind of thing from ever happening again. Maybe he could do that… If he had a future in the first place. If he had indeed killed Alex, he had no doubt that his own life would be forfeit.

The rules were in place for a reason. The powers of Conductors were incredible and causing death or maiming someone was almost too easy with even the simplest of spells. People who could not use Magick were completely at the mercy of those who could. They depended on them even.

Zightbeasts roamed the land on what seemed a never-ending quest to devour any humans they came across. If not for the Conductors humans would have become extinct long ago. Those powers, however, meant that Conductors were by default more important than normal humans, and those normal people placed a great deal of trust in the ones who protected them.

Rules then, were extremely important when it came to how and where the powers of a Conductor could be used. Here in the Academy, an institution of learning, those rules were even more important. Hundreds of new Conductors were just beginning to learn their craft. It was simply not safe to allow such young spellcasters to ply their arts against one another without some kind of guidelines.

Being expelled was a standard punishment for maiming another student, along with the sealing of their Orrium in order to prevent further use of magick. That had been laid out very clearly in the paperwork he had signed. However, killing another student was a crime punishable by death. This rule applied to Royals, Nobles, and commoners alike. No one was an exception to this rule.

His own death didn’t bother him though. If he was to be sentenced to such a fate it was a price he was willing to pay. The death of an innocent, (or in this instance) the death of his friend was a crime he could not forgive himself for. If he was to die, he could accept that punishment.

He spent hours mulling over these thoughts until a knock sounded at his door that evening, long after the moons Natrina and Lumara were high in the sky. He didn’t even bother to answer it. He was content to simply sit and stare at nothing in particular.

The knocking continued for a few moments, followed by a long silence. Cypher thought that maybe the visitor had left him to his solitude, but the door slowly opened and Alvin appeared before him. He offered a solemn look towards Cypher and stood before him, his hands in the pockets of his brown robes.

Noticing that Cypher remained motionless and with an expression of emptiness upon his face he frowned and then moved to sit on the couch next to the silent boy. Another solemn look spread across his face at first, but seeing Cypher in that disheveled state caused him to lower his gaze and frown in worry instead.

They sat together in silence for a long time. Alvin soon made a pot of tea and even prepared a cup for Cypher after a while. The steaming cup sat on the table before the couch, a bitter aroma filling the silence between them. Cypher simply ignored it and continued to stare unblinking at the wall.