The fool never even had a chance to scream before his withered body turned to dust. I stood silent like a specter in the night, as I took in the sanitized smell of the hospital ward. The smell of chemicals invaded my nostrils as I took another deep breath. I took a step forward, but felt an unfamiliar restraint on my movements. Looking down, I saw the various pipes and needles meticulously placed within my veins. Out of habit, I ripped out the foreign objects from my body, causing the beeping to turn to an annoying screech. The machine monitoring my heart rate continued with its annoying sound as my eyes trailed the hospital room. It was very barebones, consisting only of a single bed, with a few chairs and machines inside. I felt the cold air of the open window blow into my hospital gown, and the cold air caused me to shiver slightly. Just then, the door swung open, and a doctor, as well as a few nurses, barged in. They all collectively stopped to stare when they saw me standing in the middle of the room.
"It is rude to stare, although I understand," I broke the silence with a bit of humor, but my voice was dry and hoarse from long periods of disuse. But they just continued to stare at me with shock, so much so that I myself became curious about their reaction.
I moved towards the mirror only to stop dead in my tracks at the thing that stared back at me. To say that I had changed would have been an understatement; black veins traveled along my skin like cracks in a wall. The white of my eyes had black blotches within them, like ink being dropped into water. My skin had turned significantly paler, giving me a semi-ethereal look. I had no idea what to think. I did not feel any different, but my looks spoke for themselves.
—-
Doctor Anderson was just about ready to call it a night when one of the nurses barged into his office. Her face portrayed her concern as she spoke. "Sir, it's Duke Whither. His heart rate ended thirty seconds ago." She spoke between gasps of breath.
Her words caused me to almost jump out of my chair. "Shit," I huffed under my breath, as I motioned her to lead the way. We were joined by two more nurses along the way. But when I opened the door to Duke Whither's room, I froze in fear and shock. I felt the unmistakable presence of death wafting from the young man standing in the center of the room. It was so thick that I felt my chest constrict in fear as I observed the patient. The smell of rot and decay emanated from the young man in waves. For the past two weeks, he had been in a coma, with no hope of recovery. He had been corrupted by death affinity mana, which was slowly corroding him from the inside.
He was a large point of discussion within the medical ward, as he was the last of his line. Many had already believed that there would be no hope of recovery, and that the Whither line would die with him. But here he stood, awake and seemingly stronger than ever. He looked like a monster who had just crawled from the abyss. That was when he spoke, and fear began to take over once more.
"It is rude to stare, although I understand." His voice was hoarse and dry, and distinctly inhuman, but the power within it was unmistakable.
—-
When the doctor and nurses finally snapped out of their reverie, the first thing they did was to begin testing. The testing was so thorough that we spent several hours going through them all. Yet the more tests they completed, the more confused they became; they had no idea how I survived. Where once the death affinity mana had been a foreign presence invading my body and core. Now it was as if it were an extension of my magic; it had fused with me on a fundamental level. Throughout the testing, various doctors and experts were brought in to try to understand what had happened and how I had become fused with the foreign mana. With every new person that came, they all shared the same reaction upon seeing me: Primordial terror. This reaction was starting to grate on my nerves; they kept poking and prodding me like some damn animal. That would have been somewhat tolerable if they did not fear my every reaction, as if I were some wild rift beast poised to strike.
Just as I was about to lash out at them, they finally stopped with their testing, concluding that my recovery was a mystery. It was early morning when it finally ended, but I was not tired. That happens when you have slept for two weeks straight. They brought me my belongings before calling my guardian to notify Elijah that I had woken up. When they gave me my phone, the first thing I did was call Elijah and ask him to bring a mask. At first, he was confused by my request, but he agreed nonetheless. Honestly, I had no idea how to feel about these last few hours, or even what I had become. I sat in front of the mirror while drinking some coffee, just staring with hollow eyes at my own reflection. The more I looked at this thing, the more disgusted I became. Could I still be considered human? I was already only half a man with my sociopathy, but now, what was even left of me? The more these thoughts traveled through my mind, the angrier I became. So much so that I threw my cup at the mirror, watching as my reflection shattered into a hundred pieces. To have my once-perfect face replaced with… this was disheartening. How was I supposed to go out in public without them staring at me in fear?
What would high society think? Would I become the laughing stock of those well-bred swine? No, if they laugh, then I will just cut out their tongues. I'd rather be feared than laughed at, unless… My musing was interrupted when Simon barged into the room. I could see both exhaustion and relief clearly on his face. He did not even stop to look at my appearance before he grabbed me in a bear hug.
"I thought I lost you," He whispered in my ear, as he squeezed me tighter. His outward display of affection confused me at first, but as the seconds ticked by, I returned his hug with one of my own.
When he finally let go and took a step back, I could see the physical toll the last two weeks had taken on my dear cousin. He looked to have aged by two years from all the stress. His usual jovial and carefree nature was strangely absent, and that concerned me most of all. Elijah was standing silently in the corner of the room, his eyes cold and calculating as he observed me. When our eyes met, he only nodded in greeting. "Young master, the mask as you requested." Elijah's voice was just as emotionless as his demeanor as he stepped forward and handed me a mask.
The mask itself made it look as if it were carved from marble. It was made from a synthetic polymer designed for durability. There were two runes on the inside to allow the mask to stay on my face without any clasps or external attachments. The mask itself was that of a weeping angel, with it face a mixture of both grief and absolute wrath. Huh, how fitting, I thought as I placed it on my face. The mask stuck without problem; it turned pliable so that it would morph to the shape of my face. When the process was complete, I breathed a sigh of relief. It is strange how something so simple could put my heart at ease. Movement in the corner of the room instantly drew my attention. It was Malach, but he looked different, more real. He was almost indistinguishable from when he was alive, his mocking eyes never leaving my own as we stared at each other. Usually, he only hung around in the peripheral of my vision, but now he was moving freely, and that deeply unsettled me.
"Let's go." The dryness had left my voice, but now it only highlighted how different it had become. My voice had become extremely melodic, but distinctly inhuman. There was an almost emotionless undertone to it that only furthered my new monstrous nature.
We exited the hospital and retreated to the car. Although my first instinct was to dive headfirst back into the fray, I knew it was better to rest for now. During the drive back to my estate, Simon filled me in on the occurrences of the previous two weeks. The more he spoke, the angrier I became. When he reached the parts concerning Angelica and Baron Liam, I was fuming. We arrived at the estate, and it looked exactly the same as I had left it. But I was no longer the same man who had left it two weeks prior. For the next two hours, I rested, drinking tea before taking a much-needed bath. After having cleaned up, I could wait no longer. I got dressed in a two-piece suit; the blazer and pants were a deep navy, while the button shirt was black. The top two buttons were left undone, exposing the top part of my chest. The blackened veins looked almost like tattoos, while my dreadlocks were tied into a ponytail.
With my preparation complete, I felt more than ready to return to polite society. My first stop was to have a conversation with a man who had been acting like a petulant child in my absence. It was 10 am on a Wednesday, so Wu should still be at the academy, so that was my first stop. I might as well speak to the Dean and gain more information about the upcoming Nationals. With my mind made up, I left my estate. In the car on the way to the academy, Simon sat across from me with a contemplative look.
"How do you do it?" His voice spoke of utter confusion as he asked the question. My eyes moved away from the window and focused on him. I wonder what brought this line of thought to him? I can see that he has changed during my time in a coma. He was more mature now, some of his naivete had left him. It saddened me to see, he was one of the few lights within my life of darkness.
"How do I do what?" I asked, still not used to my new changed voice.
"How are you capable of handling it all? I spent two weeks in your shoes and almost lost myself in the process. But you… You do this daily and never seem to be fazed." His voice was soft but resolute as he asked me. There was a fire in his eyes, burning with resolve as he spoke.
At first, I did not reply, thinking of an adequate answer. I tapped my pointer finger to my forehead. "Because of my mind… Power alone is not enough to attain freedom. True freedom, I mean, not the illusion of it. You could have all the power in the world and still be shackled. But with power in combination with a trained mind, you can create your own freedom. That is how I do it. I compartmentalize my problems and work on them one by one. I do not look at the whole, as that is often overwhelming. No, I work on my problems one at a time." That was the best answer I could come up with; I just hoped it would be enough. We did not speak again after that, so the drive passed in blissful silence.
We arrived after a 30-minute drive to the academy, and a wave of nostalgia hit me when I got out of the car and looked at the building I had spent years of my life in. Memories flashed through my mind in a flood; it felt like so long ago since I was last here. Even if it was only a little over two months ago, I shook my head to clear my thoughts so that I could focus on what was important. In that time, I had walked within the abyss and returned with my mind intact. The petty politics of aristocratic life looked so trivial in comparison. Walking up the limestone steps that led to the academy administrative building with calm and measured steps. The space was mostly empty as most of the students were already in class. Only a few of the academy staff meandered about. They gave me strange looks when they saw the mask, but no one said anything about it, so I let them be.
For far too long, I had lived for tomorrow while being shackled by the past. No more, from now on, I would be living for the now. I appreciated the beauty of the weeping willow trees at the front of the academy. The way the vines swayed in the wind was almost magical. After years of monotony within the mist, I learned to appreciate the beauty even amongst the mundane. Entering the building, I walked towards the front desk, but was stopped by someone I really did not want to see. Liane stepped forward, holding a clipboard in her hand. Her brow hair was braided into twin strands that fell down her shoulders. Her black and red uniform was the picture of perfection; no imperfection could be found, no matter how hard you looked. An armband on her right arm marked her as the head of the student council. Out of everyone that I could have run into, she was the one I wanted the least to do with. Her sense of self-importance was not something I wanted to deal with right now.
"Excuse me, are you a parent?" She asked while her judgmental eyes looked me up and down. She lingered on my mask for a second before giving me an expectant look.
"No," I answered in a cold voice as I walked past her. But she just could not accept being ignored, as she grabbed my arm as I walked past.
"Sir, unless you have a reason to be here. I am going to have to ask you to leave the academy premises." Her voice was tinged with annoyance and a pathetic display of self-superiority. She reminded me so much of who I was that it was sickening.
"Liane," I spoke her name calmly, but my bloodlust was already beginning to rise. "Let go of my hand before you lose it." The calm tone of my voice only sought to highlight my threat as she quickly let go.
"How do you know my name?" There was a mixture of fear and confusion in her tone as she spoke.
"I have only been gone for two months, and you have already forgotten me?" I spoke with a laugh as I continued walking towards the front desk.
"Zeon?" She spoke in recognition, but I had already arrived at the front desk. Informing the secretary that I had an appointment with the dean, she quickly led me to his office. I could have gone there myself, but standard procedure dictated that she lead me.