1. On Again, Off Again

**Disclaimer: I do not own Magic The Gathering. I only own the characters and plot of this story.**

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_Bolas._

The man woke with a gasp, sitting up as quickly as he could. Sweat was making his black hair cling to his forehead, the salty water stinging his eyes as it dripped down his face. He felt as though he was being roasted alive and dipped in icy water at the same time, and yet as he looked at his grey clothes he was surprised to find them entirely intact. His loose shirt was drenched with what the young adult assumed was sweat while his trousers were muddied and worn. That, and his peasant-like sandals, threw him off. They were definitely his clothes, he knew that for a fact, but he also knew that they weren't. He tried to remember a time when he had worn something else, but found that he couldn't. Actually, he couldn't remember _anything._ It was at this point that he began to panic.

Why couldn't he remember anything? He dug deep for memories in his mind, searching frantically for anything that could tell him where he was. He found nothing, except a single word that held no meaning to him: "Bolas". He knew it must be important because it was the only word he could remember; maybe it was his name? No, that didn't sound right. The name didn't fit him, on a subconscious level, and yet it was the only thing he had. "So," he whispered, surprised at how raspy his voice was, "Bolas it is."

He got off of the hard dirt he was laying on, trying in vain to dust off his trousers, the dirt sticking to him like a magnet. Sighing, the newly dubbed Bolas looked at his surroundings, not recognizing any of it. He was in a dark, cramped alley surrounded by tall buildings, bustling crowds in drastically different colors on either end of the alley. Some of the people wore outfits entirely of blue, while others wore solid colors of red, green, white, and even occasionally black. Others had mixtures of those five colors such as blue and white or green and red. Bolas walked towards one of the crowds, becoming mesmerized the great display of color, though it made him look at his own clothing with a frown. He had seen no one else with clothing such as his; grey and cheap. Was he poor? The thought horrified and repulsed the man. That simply couldn't be. Something told him that he was no mere peasant, but the disdainful and pitying looks he was getting from the people dressed in color was telling him that he was.

Shaking his head of such thoughts, Bolas made his way into the moving crowd, following the flow while ignoring the hostile looks of the others and trying to look as though he belonged. He kept his head down and looked for anything that would look familiar along the street but found nothing. At one point he caught sight of a large castle on a hill overlooking the town where Bolas found himself, and he couldn't stop himself from nudging the person beside him.

The person, a smaller blonde woman in a complex white dress, looked at him with equal amounts pity and wariness. "Excuse me miss, but what is that place?" Bolas asked, pointing to the castle before he lost sight of it behind another tall building.

The woman gave him a strange look, before realization dawned on her face. "Oh, you're new to the city, aren't you?"

"Um, yes?" Bolas answered, not really sure if it was true or not.

"Oh, well then that's Lord Callist's castle. He's the patron of Brookridge, and rumor has it that he reports directly to King Kathan," the blonde supplied quickly, obviously not enjoying talking to Bolas. The young man, for his part, realized this and nodded his thanks to the woman before moving away from her. None of that had sounded familiar to the man, but at least he understood something about his surroundings now. He appeared to be in a city or town called Brookridge which was ruled by this Callist fellow. At least he knew the basics of this world he found himself in.

He continued walking until he realized he had been going in circles, having passed the same vendor at least five times. He knew it was the same vendor because the green-clad man kept sneering at him every time he walked by and hiding his merchandise behind a curtain. Honestly, he was getting rather annoyed at all of the looks he was getting from people, and all of the ones he wasn't getting from others. It seemed as though half the populace hated or pitied him, while the other half ignored him like they ignored the dirt beneath their feet, and if he hadn't had a talk with the girl in white he probably would've lashed out by now. As it was he wasn't willing to cause a scene just yet.

Then he heard a scream from _very_ close by.

He pushed his way through the crowd towards the sound of the scream and, upon reaching its source, was shocked by what he was seeing. A man, dressed in tight clothes of red, was beating on a girl dressed similarly to Bolas in broad daylight. What shocked him even more than that, however, was how everyone else who had rushed to the scene was taking it. A few of them were shaking their heads in sadness or disgust, a few walked away like nothing was happening, and a few were even cheering for the big man. Not one of them moved to help the cowering girl as the man kicked and slapped her curled up form. Gritting his teeth in anger, Bolas watched until he couldn't take it anymore.

Breaking free of the crowd, Bolas whirled the man around, glaring into the man's brown eyes. "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" he yelled at the red-clothed man, who was looking at him in a mixture of surprise- and rage.

"What is it with you Halfborns today?" the man yelled as he drove his fist into Bolas' stomach. Bolas, who hadn't been expecting that, doubled over in pain as he clutched his stomach. The other man didn't waste any time in striking him down, a meaty fist to his back driving him to the ground. Bolas felt rage flow through him even as the bigger man kicked him in his ribs. There was nothing right about this situation. He wasn't supposed to be the one being beaten, he wasn't some common beggar! How dare this brute even think of laying a hand on _him_!

He didn't remember when the other man had stopped beating him, or even standing up. All he knew was that the man was now looking at him in shock and confusion, and that his own vision was clouded with black. Wait. It wasn't _clouded_ with black; something vaporous and black literally swirled around him like a vortex and Bolas was surprised to find that this didn't surprise him. _This _was right; _this_ was how things were supposed to be. He felt powerful and found that he enjoyed the slightly fearful look on the other man's face.

"Shit, I didn't know you were a mage, man," the man said bashfully, face going red with what Bolas assumed was embarrassment. "Why the hell are you wearing Halfborn colors, anyway?"

Bolas ignored his question, partly because he _felt_ was beneath him to answer the man, and partly because he had only a limited idea of what was going on. So he asked his own question instead. "Why are you beating this woman?"

The incredulous look increased on the man's face, as he looked at the entertained crowd that was watching the exchange. Many of the crowd wore the same confused face as the man in red. "Uh, well she, uh, stepped on my shoe and didn't apologize."

"That's all?"

"Um, yes?"

"Interesting," Bolas whispered calmly, though inside he seethed with rage. He wanted to make this man pay for such arrogance, finding an almost instinctual dislike for the man, his red clothes inciting anger in the younger man. As he wondered how he could hurt the man he heard a voice whisper in his head. He couldn't make out its words, but once it was done speaking a thought popped into his mind, one that made Bolas grin and his victim take a step back in trepidation. "Well then, if that's how things work here, I think I owe you for the beating you gave me."

The man, to his credit, figured out what Bolas meant rather quickly and began gathering red mana to himself to cast a spell. He just wasn't fast enough. Before he had gathered enough mana for even the simplest fire spell Bolas had already cast, screaming the name of his spell as though he had done it a million times before, "_Adeptus Laminas_!"

Then, where the man was standing just a moment before was emptiness that had engulfed the center of the fire mage. It sliced diagonally through the man, cutting out his chest while catching unnatural fire to the rest of his appendages. The man's now dead and bodiless extremities fell to the ground, the man's head set in an expression of shock and pain. The sight hushed the crowd's excited talking, and Bolas even heard a few of them throw up at the sight of the man. The sight didn't really bother him, and now that the rush of power he felt was fading he was a little scared at that. Something like this shouldn't be common, right? He had just killed a person so he should feel remorse, regret, something! Right?

Shaking his head, Bolas looked at the "Halfborn", as the fire mage had called her. She was still curled up in ball, sobbing into the ground even though he had just killed her attacker. Walking over to the girl he hesitantly put his hand on her shoulder, pulling it back when she flinched and started crying harder. "Um, excuse me, miss, but you're safe now. The man has been… He's gone now."

The girl lifted her head slowly, fearfully, her tearful blue eyes looking into Bolas' grey ones. "R-really?" she whimpered, and he gave her a nod and what he hoped was a reassuring smile. To his surprise, the dirt- and tear-stained girl threw herself at him, clutching onto him and sobbing into his shoulder. "H-hey, it's alright now, everything's going to be okay," Bolas patted her back awkwardly, not quite sure how to get the girl off of him. Turns out he didn't like crying girls. Either that or hugs. Hm.

Eventually the girl removed herself from his arms, suddenly becoming reserved. "Thank you for helping me," she whispered as she hid her blue eyes beneath her brown bangs.

"Ah, it's no problem, really," Bolas replied, scratching the back of his head sheepishly, "That guy was a douche anyway."

"How'd you get him to leave?"

"You, uh, don't really want to know. Just come with me for now, alright?" He was relieved when the girl nodded and stood up with him, Bolas carefully putting his arm around the girl's shoulder and leading her away from the fire mage's remains. _The girl's been through enough,_ he mused to himself, _and she shouldn't have to go through seeing that._ The crowd from earlier had more or less dispersed, though people were still stopping occasionally to gawk at what was left of the corpse and the two apparent peasants walking away from it.

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An hour and a half later the duo had arrived at the girl's "house", as Bolas had no place to stay, and he didn't want to leave the girl alone just yet. After all, he had killed a person to save her, and so he felt a little responsible for her. It wouldn't do for her to go out and get in more trouble after he had saved her just because the people here were crazy. At first the girl had been against it, but he wouldn't be persuaded otherwise, so she had finally relented. They had left the city of Brookridge and gone to a secluded little area just outside of its bounds, the city and the castle both looming ominously in the distance. Bolas found out soon after arriving at the girl's home the Brookridge didn't look any better from far away than it did up close.

And that's what they were doing outside a shack that could just barely be called shelter. No wonder the girl hadn't wanted to bring him here; the place made Bolas feel claustrophobic and he wasn't even inside it yet. He looked at the girl who was looking at the ground shamefully and felt instinctively sad for her, though he knew she wouldn't want his pity. "So, why don't you live in the city?" he asked, breaking the tense silence and immediately regretted it as he saw the girl's face fall.

"I'm a Halfborn, so there aren't any inns or boarding houses that will take me," the girl whispered sadly as she continued to stare at the ground. He felt bad, but there was something that was bothering him, something that he figured was important.

"Hey, uh, what's a Halfborn?"

From the girl's reaction you'd think that he'd just turned into a pig and then sprouted wings. Her head whipped up so she could look at him, her mouth slightly open and her eyes wide with disbelief. "You-you don't know what a Halfborn is? How?"

Now it was Bolas' turn to be embarrassed, though he didn't know why he felt that way. "I, uh, I don't remember much. Nothing at all really. I woke up in an alley a couple of minutes before I found you and that's as far back as my memory goes."

"Oh," the girl replied, looking a little ashamed at her outburst. "Sorry, then. That must be hard." Bolas nodded, scrunching his face up as he thought about his condition. There was a name for it, he was sure, but like his memories it was escaping him. "In that case, Halfborns are rare people born without magic. Almost everyone has some form of magic they can use, and Halfborns are seen as freaks because we can't. So we aren't treated too well by the normal people."

Well, that explained why no one was helping her earlier. "Okay, but what's with the colors? Is that the kind of magic they can use?"

"Exactly," the girl nodded, "The colors a person wears tells what corner of magic they occupy. The m-man from earlier was a fire mage, so he wore red."

"Alright, makes sense, I guess. But why do people do that? What if they want to wear a different color one day?"

"They can't. Lord Callist has made it a law, under penalty of imprisonment."

"That's a stupid rule," Bolas snorted, crossing his arms, "Why the hell would he make a rule like that?"

"To single out the Halfborn," the girl whispered, simultaneously filling Bolas with rage and pity at the same time. What kind of ruler would do that to his subjects? _One who has a death wish_, a darker part of his mind thought, and he found that he couldn't help but agree. But he couldn't do anything about it. Not yet, anyway.

Deciding to change the subject, he decided to ask another question that had been bugging him. "Excuse me, but what's your name?"

The girl looked up at him sharply, looking rather confused. "What?"

Bolas coughed into his hand nervously. _I should've started with that, dammit!_ "Well, uh, I kinda forgot to ask you your name earlier. It just now occurred to me. Sorry."

He stared at the ground in embarrassment, scratching the back of his head sheepishly, when he heard laughter. He looked up to find the girl hiding a small smile behind her dirty hand, and soon found himself smiling as well. It was a little funny, after all. "My name is Keira," she said, her smile evident in her voice, "What's yours?"

"I think it's Bolas," he told her, not expecting her happy mood to disappear as suddenly as it had come. "What? What's wrong with my name?"

Keira took a minute to answer, her blue eyes returning back to the ground. "That's the name of a great demon that King Kathan killed when he ascended the throne. It had terrorized the world for centuries before His Grace slew the monster. It was more powerful than any mage that had tried to stop it before; it was even rumored to be able to travel outside of our world to others, but most of that's just rumors. Anyway, King Kathan- hey, are you alright?" Bolas was not alright. As Keira had described the demon a headache had descended on the young man, especially when she talked of it roaming to other worlds. That had sounded so familiar, but from where?

"I'll be fine, I think," he managed to mutter, clutching his head as pain smashed through his brain. "I've just got a massive headache all of a sudden." Spots started to invade his vision and he was only half aware of Keira saying something to him. Suddenly he was on the ground, losing consciousness as he was only vaguely aware of Keira panicking over him, her blue eyes wide with worry. That was the last thing he saw before he left the world. Figuratively, of course.

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_Spell Book_

_Adeptus Laminas=Doom Blade_

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**Welcome to my semi-first MTG story, hopefully the first you all will remember. *cough* Anyway, I got into this story through another story which was in turn partly inspired by victorbranoliver's **_**The Eternal Dance of Light and Dark.**_** It got me back into MTG fanfiction, so you can thank him for this story. I just hope it's even a fraction as good as his, because if it is then it means I'm doing something right.**

**For those of you with questions, leave a review, do NOT PM me. My inbox is full enough as it is. This chapter was meant to be jarring and a little confusing, so I'd love to hear the theories you all have about the human Bolas and the world he finds himself in. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and I hope even more to see you all next time.**

**Foxtrot Agent 21, signing off.**


	2. Spells and Breakdowns

**Disclaimer: I do not own Magic the Gathering. As much as I wish I did. I only own this story and some of its characters.**

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_Bolas was in a dark room, unable to see anything, not even his own hands. He stood as still as he could, feeling as though something was in the darkness with him. He held his breath as he heard a huge sigh from directly in front of him. It wasn't huge in the sense that it was exaggerated, though. It was huge in the sense that whatever had sighed was _huge_. Then the creature began to talk. "Oh, poor little mage. So far from home, so close to _Death_."_

_"W-what are you talking about?" He called out, cursing himself for showing weakness to this creature. "I'm not dying. Am I?"_

_The being laughed, the sound cruel, patronizing, and filled with genuine amusement. "As long as you remain on this world, you will die. I can see it, even now. It's poisoning you, ever so slowly. I give you a year, at the most."_

_"How do I stop it?" He pleaded with the being, dread filling him as it laughed even louder than before. The laughter got louder and harsher, never stopping, always getting louder. "Make it stop!"_

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Bolas sprung upright, waking from his horrible nightmare. He glanced about his surroundings in panic, noticing how small and cheap everything looked. He wasn't even on an actual bed; it was made of straw and leaves, with a thin, hole-ridden blanket as the only source of heat. There was no other furniture in the small, cold room and he quickly found himself shivering. He threw off the blanket to reveal his sweat soaked clothing, which didn't look right. Where was his armor?

"Um, Bolas, are you alright?" A feminine voice asked from outside the door, worry evident in her tone.

Bolas struggled to put a name with the voice before he answered, "Uh yeah, I'm fine, uh, Keira! Right. I had a nightmare, that's all."

"A-alright, I'll be waiting out here if you need me."

"Thank you," Bolas called distractedly as he tried to remember where he was and what happened. He remembered waking up in an alley in a similar state as now, and then killing a man to save Keira. After that? "Well, we went to her house, which must be where I am now. But I don't remember falling asleep. Hm."

Shrugging in confusion, Bolas got up from the bed, eager to get out of the cold of the shack. Just as he reached for the door handle to leave, however, Keira yanked it open from the other side, terror clear on her face.

She looked much like she had the day before, except less dirty and with her hair tied up in a pony tail. She had managed to wash away all of the dirt from her face, though he hadn't seen any source of water on the walk to the girl's shack yesterday. 'How far did she have to travel to wash?' He thought to himself before realizing the girl was talking. "Um, sorry, what'd you say?"

"We have to run!" She almost-shouted, looking over her shoulder before grabbing onto Bolas's bare forearm and dragging him out of the shack. "Come on!"

Bolas pulled his arm out of the surprisingly strong grip of the girl and gave her a reproachful look. For some reason that touch was entirely too informal for him; some part of him reviled in the touch of someone considered unsuitable by society. It was much like the feeling he had had just before he had killed the fire mage that he was _above_ another person. He tried to squash the feeling, especially when he saw Keira back away in fright at his glare. 'Dammit, Bolas, get a hold of yourself!' "What's wrong, Keira? What's going on?"

Instead of answering the girl pointed to her right fearfully, looking like she wanted to go hide under a rock. Following her finger, Bolas was surprised to see three men on horseback riding towards them, though he soon understood Keira's terror as he saw their clothes. One of them wore only red, though they all had it incorporated in their clothing. The one leading the trio wore black alongside his red, while the third wore white. For some reason, those two color combinations made Bolas worry, as though he had seen them before. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Bolas turned to Keira, grabbing onto her shoulders and making sure not to pull her dark brown hair. "Do you have somewhere you can hide?"

"But what about-?"

"Answer the question, Keira."

"Um, I can head to the forest," she mumbled as she pointed to the small forest behind the shack. If things went south she wouldn't have much space to hide in, but it might be just long enough for the three men to lose interest.

"Alright," Bolas nodded, "That'll have to do. Go hide in there. I'll try to get rid of these three mages and then I'll come and get you, okay?" Keira took a step towards the forest, and then stopped to look back at him, worry still on her face, but this time it was for him. Bolas gave her what he hoped was a confident smile before he turned to look at the three mages who had stopped a couple dozen feet away. "Go on, Keira, I can handle these three, no problem. This'll take five minutes, tops."

He didn't start to gather his dark mana until he heard the girl run towards the forest, though he tried to keep it discreet. One of the mages, the one who wore white along with his red, called over to Bolas. "Citizen, did you, yesterday at 17:37 hours, kill a red mage in the city of Brookridge?" the man, obviously some sort of law enforcement, asked.

"In self defense, yes," Bolas called back, taking note of the mana the other two mages had begun to gather.

"Did you kill him after he had ceased hostilities with you?" this time the man's voice had hardened and Bolas began to curse mentally. This man had a personal attachment to the man Bolas had killed yesterday.

"What was I supposed to do, let him get away with assaulting me?" he protested, but he knew it was futile, especially when the white and red mage began to gather mana to himself. Bolas sighed, letting the mana he had been gathering show to the three men, spreading a shadow around him. As he did, he noticed something interesting in the mana the others were gathering; they weren't using too much red. The mono red user had much less mana than his companions, and those two had more of their other colors than red. Was it something about the area that restricted fire magic?

"Citizen, release your mana or it will be seen as a resistance of arrest," the white-aligned mage shouted, drawing a sword that Bolas found to be just a little compensative.

"You've already decided my fate, dear _officer_," he spat out, though he was internally panicking. He only knew one spell, and it killed one person at a time. There was no way that if he killed one of them that the other two would just wait their turn. He was certain he could kill two of them before the third could cast, but he had no intentions of dying by the third one. _Black_, a voice in his mind whispered, and Bolas's glowing purple eyes flicked to the red and black mage. Out of the three mages, he was the only one grinning. The other two were filled with rage; he looked like he was enjoying himself. _He wants this,_ Bolas realized. And then a thought came to him. If he could isolate the gleeful mage from his friends, he'd want to savor the pain he'd bring the young man. And that was how Bolas would win.

"So be it, death mage," the red and white mage responded, sending his defensive and offensive magic into his armor and sword, respectively. He and the red mage urged their horses into a gallop at Bolas while the black and red caster stayed back, as though sensing what was about to happen. Truth be told, even Bolas didn't know what was going to happen. He only knew one spell, and it'd take too long to cast it twice.

"Still, it'll have to do," he grimaced as he prepared to cast the spell at the white mage. Then he heard the whisper again. It was still indistinct, and so faint that he thought he might've been imagining it, but once it was done he knew of another spell for just such an occasion. Then he grimaced again, because he knew this was going to hurt. Gathering his black mana in a fog around himself, Bolas ran to meet the two mages on horseback fearlessly, knowing that he'd only get as hurt as necessary for the spell. Once close enough, the death mage jumped up so that he was eye level with the two men, watching as their swords swung towards him. Their blades were enchanted with the offensive magic of fire, and they would undoubtedly kill him- unless he casted before they could hit him.

In the instant before their enchanted swords sliced through him, Bolas shouted his newly learned spell for the entire world to hear, "_Temeraria Spite!_"

As soon as he gave his mana an outlet it hardened around him, shrugging off their swords as his hands wrapped around their throats and dragged them off of their horses and to the ground. All three slammed into the ground though only Bolas landed on his feet. Before the two mages can retaliate the black magic gathered around Bolas's arms coalesce into fire, traveling from his body to his victims, setting them ablaze in an instant. The fire burned his arms, though he held onto the two mages; this spell required sacrifice or else it would stop working. In less than five seconds the two mages were burnt to a crisp and his own arms were blackened by fire. Still, he grinned. It wasn't a nice grin. It was one of pleasure and victory, his feeling of superiority at having bested two mages simultaneously. It left him feeling amazing, despite the pain. And then a red lightning bolt struck him full in the chest and he went flying backwards.

Stars danced above his vision as he stared at the blue sky as he wondered just where the hell that attack had come from. Then an ugly, scarred face invaded his view and he stopped wondering. "Well now, that was some mighty fine casting there," the red and black mage grinned at Bolas, seeming genuinely pleased, "You managed to kill two people in a horrific way and still hurt yourself. How was it? Did you enjoy the pain like I do? Ah, it just tastes so good! Their screams were amazing! Hell, I'll even forgive you for killing them that was so spectacular. I mean, I'm still going to kill you, but dear lord that was the greatest black magic I've ever seen! Would you mind teaching it to me?"

The mage perplexed Bolas. He was just way too messed up in the head. "If I teach it to you will you _not_ kill me?" he asked hopefully, though his hopes were dashed when he saw the other man frown.

"You mean you _don't _want to die?" he asked, then a realization seemed to hit him and he grinned again. "Oh, you think I won't be able to make it painful enough, I understand! Don't worry; I'll make it as absolutely painful as possible. You'll die in the most spectacular way, especially if you teach me that spell! What'd you call it again? Temara spite? Something like that?"

"Tell you what," Bolas grunted as the other mage pressed his knees into the young man's chest, right where the lightning bolt had hit. Now he was grinning too, though it was because the voice had whispered again, "instead of that spell, why don't I teach you an even better one?"

"Really?" the man looked like a kid who was told he could burn down a school.

"Yep, it goes like this; _Cogitatio Sec Occupare_," as he finished calmly saying the spell he thrust his hand at the other mages face, sending a small portion of black mana into the man's mind. The effect was instantaneous. The red and black caster grabbed his head and howled in agony, his grin gone as he experienced a new kind of pain, one he didn't enjoy. Bolas shoved the man off of himself, and got up unsteadily, that spell having taken quite a bit out of him both physically and mentally. Still, he had enough mana for one more simple spell, one that he had actually learned from the glance his spell had given him into the mind of the insane caster. "_Humanum Fragilitas,_" he whispered as his low casting-cost spell reached the man, sending the mage into convulsions that caused the man to bash his head into the hard ground until he had broken his skull and killed himself.

Bolas stared impassively at the corpse of the mage, before a smirk crept upon his lips. "Turns out I love irony," he chuckled to himself as he turned to go search for Keira in the forest- and found her staring at him less than ten feet away, her eyes wide and flicking between him and the dead mage. They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity to the young mage before the girl started to back away, looking like she was about to start hyperventilating. "Keira, this-this isn't what it looks like."

At the sound of his voice the girl turned around and fled back towards the forest, running as fast as she could. "Dammit!" he cursed as he took a few steps towards the girl and then stopped. She was fast, likely too fast for him to catch on foot. He looked around for the horses the first two mages had ridden on, but they had both run off when they had the chance. The only one that was left was the red and black mage's horse, and that made Bolas pause. For obvious reasons, riding a horse used by a man like the insane mage was going to be unwise at best, but there was something else. Some part of him just didn't like horses at all, but he couldn't remember why. Shaking his head, he decided it didn't matter, and that he had to catch up to Keira. "Come here, devil horse," he grunted as he hopped into the saddle, the horse turning to look back at him. He almost jumped off of the horse as he saw the malice and glee in the horse's eyes; this thing was as crazy as its dead master. "Damn, I sure know how to pick them. Let's go!"

He spurred the horse towards the woods where Keira was just entering. It galloped as fast as its legs could take it but the girl still managed to enter the woods before they caught up to her. They caught up with her quickly, despite the uneven terrain, but when Bolas went to halt the horse it continued to run. "What the hell's wrong with you, horse?" he shouted, pulling on the reins to try to get the horse to stop. Said horse did _not_ appreciate Bolas jerking on its reins and did what any evil horse would when annoyed; it jumped. The sudden sense of being airborne startled Bolas, so much so that he didn't see the branch flying at his face until it hit him in the forehead and knocked him from the horse.

For the second time that day Bolas had spots invade his vision as he was knocked flat on his backside. Pain coursed all over his body and it managed to at the same time attempt to drag him into unconsciousness and keep him wide awake at the same time. "I fucking hate horses," he muttered, not even trying to sit up this time. Why bother? His horse, monster that it was, had left him alone in the forest and his only friend in this world was scared to death of him. There was no way she'd come back for him.

At least, that's what he thought until he saw the blur of a woman in grey kneeling beside his head. "Bolas, are you alright?" Keira whispered in worry as she tilted his head to look at her, grimacing at the blood dripping from the gash on his forehead.

"Hey, Isabella!" he gurgled happily, feeling light-headed, "You came back for me!"

"Bolas, it's Keira, I think you have a concussion," the girl said a little louder as she tore off a strip of her clothing, pressing the makeshift bandage onto the wound on his forehead.

"Oh, then what are we doing here? I have to get it out of the oven!"

"We need to get you to a hospital, alright?" Keira asked warily, pulling the mage up and slinging his arm over his shoulder.

"Okay, Isabella," Bolas replied with a lopsided smile as he leaned on Keira, though it was quickly replaced with a frown, "Hey, do you forgive me? For leaving, I mean. I know I was mad at you when I left, but I didn't mean it. I would've come back, but I didn't know how to fix things. You forgive me though, right, Isabella?"

"Yes," Keira whispered, feeling sad for her friend. Apparently even without amnesia he had it bad. "I forgive you."

"Thanks!" he laughed, happy once more. They walked on in silence until Brookridge was in sight. "Well, Hospade sure has changed. I like your hair, by the way. I mean, I liked it before, too, but this is good, too. Where are we going again, Isabella?"

"We're going to get you healed up, Bolas," Keira said in a calm manner as she struggled to half-carry the mage.

"What?" Bolas's sudden change of mood startled her, the man almost sounded _scared_.

"We're going to a hospital," she tried to placate him, but the man started shaking in fear, "You hit your head."

"I need to get out of here," Bolas whispered to himself, fear taking hold of his shock-ridden mind, "I need to walk. I need to run away from here, he can't be here! He can't find me!"

The death mage pushed Keira away and immediately fell to the ground himself, where he proceeded to curl up into a ball. Keira crawled over to him and wrapped her arms around him, trying to calm down her friend. Whatever was going through his mind had him more terrified than when he had faced three fire mages by himself, "Shh, everything's going to be fine, Bolas," she whispered reassuringly to him as he wrapped his arms around her and began to cry, "I've got you now. Everything will be alright." Eventually the man calmed down, though Keira figured it was more because he had passed out than because his breakdown had ended. The brunette looked down at the mage's tear-stained face with a frown, realizing that whatever she had been through was likely nothing compared to what he had seen. "What happened to make you like this?"

**}[_]{**

_Spell Book_

_Temeraria Spite=Reckless Spite_

_Cogitatio Sec Occupare=Thoughtseize_

_Humanum Fragilitas=Human Frailty_

**}[_]{**

**Hello again! I know, it's been a long time! About 24 hours. Anyway, I wanted to post this while it was still fresh in my mind and I had time. School takes a lot of time, but I should be able to update at least once a week. Just in case, consider this chapter as next week's chapter, just in case I don't make it. Truth be told, I've made both of these chapters in one day, roughly 4 hours each. I've got a lot of weekend time. **

***cough* Anyway, I'm not too sure if I did a good job with the Human Frailty spell. The card art shows a human skull being crushed by a vampire boot, but there weren't any vampires in this scene. So I worked with what I had and I hope you all appreciate just what was happening there. Same goes for the Thoughtseize spell, because black spells that have blue qualities have always confused me. So I took creative liberties. For those of you who weren't around for **_**Conspiracy**_**, which I pity you for, that's where Reckless Spite is from. I main deck four of them.**

**Okay, last note, please review. I really can't wait to hear all of your theories as the story progresses, but remember, if you have a question or remark do not PM me. The reasons were stated in the last chapter. Alright, I'm off.**

**Foxtrot Agent 21, out.**


	3. Another Day In Paradise

_Once again he was in the darkness. Once again he was aware of the being close by, but just out of sight. And once again he was terrified of whatever the massive thing was. He still couldn't see his surroundings, though he felt as though he were on thin, black ice, as though if he spoke one word he might break it and fall into the certain death below. He had felt something like it before, but he had attributed it to the creature; now he wasn't so sure. Either way, he let the mysterious being speak first._

"_Hello again, dying death mage," it rumbled, its voice noble and yet twisted with scorn and malice, "Back again so soon? Do you really enjoy my company so much?"_

"_How can I escape Death?" he asked, trying to make his voice strong but cursing how weak it sounded compared to the being._

_It sighed. "You death mages, always so eager to cheat the very thing you serve, the very thing that gives you power. You never learn patience, the art of waiting until the time is right to act, and that is why you die."_

"_If I stay here any longer than I have to I'll die, so where's the need for patience?" Bolas retorted, though he couldn't help wondering who else had been to see the gigantic being._

_It laughed its scornful, arrogant, terrifying laugh again, though Bolas imagined he could hear a warning in it. "Indeed. I must admit, I do like you death mages best. Most of you are short-sighted, but you're also easy to read. Mind mages always have something up their sleeves while fire mages come up with their "plans" on the fly. You never know what the two might try. But you always know in which way a death mage is going to act, so I think I'll trust you."_

"_No offense, but how is your _trust_ going to get me out of here?" this time Bolas couldn't keep the contempt from his voice and knew immediately that he had stepped too far over his bounds. He felt it in the palpable way the air changed, the way the creature's indignation and anger came clearly and almost physically to the young mage. Then they were gone, and replacing the air was an emotion that made Bolas even more scared; malicious amusement._

"_I was going to give you this power anyway," the monster, for that's what Bolas felt in his gut for the creature to be, rumbled happily, "but I think that you need to be punished for your _disrespect._ Originally it was only going to hurt a lot. Let's see how you enjoy your power now." Bolas turned to run from the voice in fear, so he never saw what struck him in the back. All he felt was an endless vortex of pain that didn't even have the decency to harm his body; it ravaged his mind._

**}[_]{**

Keira knew instantly when Bolas, her first and only friend, woke up. Little over an hour ago, when the surprisingly heavy man had passed out, she had been struck with a dilemma. If she left him there and waited until he woke up, he might die. Alternatively, and as stated previously, he was heavy. Unfortunately, Fortune did not like the poor girl, and had taken advantage of her nicer nature, the one that stopped her from lashing out at those who oppressed her. Her kindness, and the fear of what should happen shoulder Bolas recover and find out that she had done nothing to help him, made her drag/carry him to Brookridge. This was how she knew exactly when the man woke up. It also helped that he suddenly came alive with energy, arms and legs flailing out in panic as he tried to battle some unseen foe. Keira was forced to drop the mage or get hurt in his panic.

Bolas stayed on the ground for a few moments, eyes flickering everywhere in fear and pain until his grey eyes settled on Keira. As he focused on her his breathing appeared to calm down, and he finally asked, "Keira?"

"Yes?" she replied, blushing at how much attention he was paying her and surprised at how raspy his voice was. It sounded even worse than earlier, as though he had been screaming in his sleep, even though she knew he hadn't.

"Good," he muttered with relief as he picked himself off of the ground and began to check out his surroundings. His eyes widened as he saw that they were almost inside of Brookridge, "Wow, how long was I out?"

"About an hour or so," Keira mumbled, glad to have the mage's full attention elsewhere. It wasn't that she didn't like him, it was just that she was unused to anyone paying attention to her; if someone decided to pay attention to a Halfborn it was rarely to ask how they were doing. "You collapsed outside my home, so I tried to carry you here."

And then the grey eyes were on her again, and her brown ones went back to looking at the dirt. "Really?" Bolas sounded impressed, which shocked the younger girl. "You carried me here all by yourself?"

"Y-yes," she cursed herself for stuttering again and dared to look him in the eye. To her surprise he was grinning.

"That's amazing. I'm not exactly the lightest person on this world, you know," he laughed, looking so happy that Keira couldn't help but give a small smile back. Then the mage frowned. "Wait, so why did I pass out in front of your house?"

Keira couldn't help but be incredulous at this. Could he really have forgotten killing three men and being seriously injured so easily? He was walking around as though nothing had happened to him when she was sure she would have died in his place just from the horse! "Do you not remember? You were injured while riding a horse, and before that you were in a fight with three mages." The man looked at her with a confused expression as he put his hand to his head- and pulled away with it covered in blood. This surprised both of them equally; Bolas, because he was still trying to remember what happened, and Keira because she could've sworn he'd stopped bleeding half an hour ago. Had she hurt him even more when she dropped him?

"Oh," was all Bolas could say before he collapsed again, and from the way he convulsed Keira knew him to be feeling the pain of his fight coming back to him. She rushed over to him, desperate to help in some way. "Come on, Bolas, we have to get you to a healing mage," she said as she helped the mage get on his feet. She draped his work-toned arm over her shoulder and began to guide him into the city, thankful that he was at least conscious to help her now.

The normal civilians looked at them queerly, though Keira couldn't really blame them. The two of them must have made quite the pair, especially because there were only a few dozen Halfborns in the world, so seeing two in the same place was an oddity. Still, she knew better than to ask the interested bystanders for help; they wouldn't risk being singled out for helping a Halfborn, even if she was trying to help a mage. So she shuffled through the crowds who refused to part easily for the odd pair, trying to stay on the sides where there were less people to deal with. Beside her she could hear Bolas's labored breathing as he tried to match her pace and she had to stop herself from slowing down, as it'd do him no favors in the long run.

"Just a little longer, Bolas," she whispered, though a thought had struck her that made her worry; what if the mages wouldn't see Bolas? It wouldn't be the first time that she had been turned away for being a Halfborn and she wasn't sure if her friend was in any condition to summon up mana. Still, she had to try. "We're almost there."

Sure enough, Keira could see the healing building, being one of three metal buildings in the otherwise brick city. The other two were the courthouse and prison, both of which Keira had seen the inside of, strictly for disobeying the segregationist laws of Lord Callist. Admittedly she hadn't known about the laws, being only around five when she had failed the magic summoning test, but that had been no excuse in the eyes of the law._ Otherwise known as _Lord_ Callist,_ Keira thought bitterly as she arrived at the healing building. Then she quickly squashed those feelings. Lord Callist was only doing as he thought right to keep the peace so she shouldn't judge him for that. Besides, the man had mind readers as spies throughout the city, looking for any sign of unusual opposition to the ruler. The last thing she wanted was more trouble.

Shaking the depressing thoughts away Keira helped Bolas inside, drawing the attention of the white-robed healing mages- and the blue and white law mage. "What are you doing here, Halfborn? You know that healing facilities are not permitted to be used by your kind," the tall man inquired with a sense of superiority, staring down at the girl as though she were a disease that would kill the sick and healing inside.

"I-I know, sir, but my friend, he's a mage!" Keira protested, trying her best to look the law mage in the eyes.

The man stared suspiciously at her before turning his eagle eyes to the barely conscious Bolas beside her. "Prove it," he ordered.

Instead of complying the death mage passed out again, leaving Keira on her own to deal with the rather scary man. "Please sir, I swear that he's a mage, just let him get healed!"

Luckily for the floundering girl, one of the concerned healing mages towards the back of the white room spoke up, "Arithos, if he really is a mage it'll be no problem for us to heal him. Why would a Halfborn lie for someone else?"

The law mage was silent for a moment, his eyes flickering between Bolas and Keira. Finally, Arithos spoke. "You know the punishment for lying to a government official, do you not?"

"Yes sir," she replied, unable to look into the man's piercing blue eyes anymore and choosing to stare at the white metal floor. Of course she knew what the penalty was, especially for a Halfborn; death by hanging.

"Alright then," the law mage said with authority, "you may bring him in. But if I find out that you have lied to me, I will make your punishment more… _severe._ Is that understood?"

"Yes sir," Keira said gratefully as she passed the unconscious Bolas off to one of the healing mages. She watched them put him onto a mana-controlled stretcher and wheel him through metal doors at the presence of their magic. Keira watched as the doors slid shut and wondered wistfully, not for the first time, what it would be like to have magic. "May I go with him?"

"Absolutely not."

**}[_]{**

Keira was under the unnervingly watchful eye of Arithos when the healing mage came in. The man hadn't let her out of his sight since the mages had taken Bolas into one of the healing rooms, as though he suspected that she would try to sneak her way inside. Honestly, the teenager was more than willing to stay put, as the time away from Bolas was time she had to think clearly. And just what did she think of the death mage?

She liked him, but that was likely because he had saved her from the fire mage from the day before. He was the first mage to ever show true compassion for her plight and honest rage for the way she was treated. And yet… he scared her. He scared her to no end. She had seen the way he had dealt with the mages from earlier, how brutally he had killed them. She had only ran half the way to the forest before she had decided (against her better, sounder judgment) not to leave her first friend behind. She had seen it all, from the beginning where the officer had challenged him to the end where Bolas had inflicted the last mage with some new kind of insanity. She had seen his glowing, purple eyes as he had turned to her, power still coursing through him. She had seen the way the death magic had clung to him like a second skin, so potent that it had killed the grass at his feet, and yet it didn't bother him at all.

She had seen the grin on his face as he slaughtered three mages single handedly.

She had also seen the fear in his eyes when he saw her and that was the only reason she was still here. He had been afraid of what she would think of him after watching him kill three other human beings. He hadn't wanted to lose his first and only lifeline to the world he had suddenly found himself in. The look on his face reminded her too much of all the times no one had ever come to help her, and that was why she couldn't leave him here alone.

Shaking her head once, the dark-haired girl stood up from where she had been sitting against the cold metal wall to almost look the white mage in the eye. "You can go in and see him now," the older woman told her softly, the pitying look Keira had become so accustomed to clear in the other woman's eyes.

That was one of the things she hated most about being a Halfborn. She hated how the people looked at her like she was less than human or that she had some disease. She wanted to yell at them, tell them to stop treating her differently, to just let her live life without all of these constant reminders of how inferior she was to them! But all she said was, "T-thank you ma'am."

She, and the domineering law mage, followed the white mage to another part of the building, though it all looked the same to the teen. There was writing on doorways and walls followed by different colored arrows, but Keira had never been allowed to learn to read and write so she wasn't able to make sense of any of it. She hadn't been able to do a lot of things because of what she was and the laws created by Lord Callist and she couldn't help but sigh under the watchful gaze of Arithos. Why did the noble hate Halfborns so much? And if he hated them, why was it illegal for her to leave the county?

"Here we are," the healer broke Keira out of her thoughts, "Your friend is just in here and should be ready to leave in about half an hour."

Keira nodded her head in thanks as she stepped in the room, though she heard the silent request in the woman's words. She and Bolas would be out of here in half an hour, one way or another.

She walked over to her friend with the law mage right behind her. Bolas was sleeping comfortably with a small smile on his face, and if she didn't need him awake right now she would've let him sleep a little longer. As it was though… "B-Bolas?" she whispered as she shook her friend's shoulder, extremely aware of the law mage's increased interest at the mention of the mage's name. "You have to wake up now, Bolas."

The mage stirred, eyes opening sleepily as he sat up. His smile grew a little wider as he saw Keira and she couldn't help but blush a little at the attention he was paying her. "Hey Keira," the death mage greeted happily though his smile and mood faded when he saw the glaring Arithos behind her. "Who's this guy?"

"I am Arithos Zaldan of Lord Callist's Law Enforcers, and I need you to verify that you are a magic user, Mr. _Bolas,_" the man answered, more contempt filling his voice than when he had been talking to Keira.

Unfortunately, Bolas noticed the tone. "And if I refuse?" he asked belligerently, sending a defiant glare at the older man.

"Then I will be forced to detain you and the Halfborn to await trial and execution."

Keira could tell that the matter-of-fact tone the law mage used enraged Bolas as much as what Arithos had said. He started to gather black mana to himself, covering his white sheets in shadows as he glared at the infuriatingly calm law mage. Keira, sensing a disaster, stepped in between the two and placed her hands on her friend's shoulders, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "Calm down, Bolas. It's not worth it." Bolas glared at her for the interruption before closing his eyes and visibly calming himself down, filling the Halfborn with relief. "Will that suffice?" she asked as she turned to Arithos, who had been busy gathering his own blue and white magic.

The law mage slowly released his mana as Bolas did the same, before nodding once to Keira though his eyes stayed on the death mage. "That will do, though I hope you have enough to pay for the healings done to your… _friend_," Arithos turned to leave the room, though he stopped at the door to glare once more at Bolas. "You should control your temper, _boy_, especially when you don't have nearly enough power to do anything with it."

Keira could feel the rage emanating off of her friend and desperately hoped he wouldn't try to kill the law mage. Luckily, Bolas seemed to have read her mind as he merely sighed and turned a rueful smile to the younger teen. "That prick hasn't given you any trouble while I was out, has he?"

"N-no!" Keira exclaimed a little louder than she meant to as she realized that she was still holding onto Bolas, and quickly let go.

"Good," Bolas smirked at her blush, before he frowned again. "I still can't remember exactly how I got here. I remember fighting some fire mages, and then we were just outside of Brookridge. What happened?"

"You hit your head while riding a horse and you were knocked unconscious. You woke up for a little bit, but you passed out again when we got here."

"Huh," Bolas seemed a little confused at that, like something didn't add up about what Keira had told him. "But I hate horses."

"You do?" Keira blinked. Was he remembering something?

"Oh yeah, they're nasty buggers. Did I ever tell you about the time… that… ow," his sentence trailed off as he grabbed his head with one hand and grimaced with pain.

"Are you alright, Bolas?" Keira asked worriedly, leaning closer to get a better look at the mage. "Do your injuries still hurt?"

"No, they're fine; I've just got a bit of a headache all of a sudden. I'll be fine."

Keira couldn't help but being disappointed; Bolas hadn't been conscious much since he had woken up yesterday so he hadn't had much time to ponder his past, but it had bothered Keira constantly. After all, people didn't just _lose_ their memories, so what had happened to him? "Um, Bolas?" Keira asked hesitantly, standing straight and staring at the ground.

"Yeah?"

"Who's Isabella?" _Oh no, what have I done? Oh, please don't remember, don't remember, don't rememb-_

"Who?" Keira whipped her head up in shock and relief at Bolas's confused face.

"Nothing," she supplied quickly, looking anywhere but at the wizard, "Forget I said anything." Bolas looked at her suspiciously for a moment but thankfully it didn't last too long. She was about to breathe a sigh of relief- until she realized what she had just said and thought. _What is wrong with me?_

**}[_]{**

Erthin Callist was known by many names to different people; his citizenry called him Lord Callist; his council were permitted to call him Callist; his parents, before their "untimely" demise (he personally thought they had lived more than long enough), had called him Erthin. The one name he disliked, though, was a special one that not even his peers were permitted to use:

"Idiot!" the shadowy figure yelled at him, and Callist gritted his teeth as he glared at the floor. "How can you not have found him yet?"

"I'm sorry, my lord, but I-"

"I don't need your excuses, you simpleton!" Callist couldn't help but flinch as the man on the other side of the mana communicator roared at him. Were it anyone else Callist would have killed them already; as it was, the noble wasn't sure he could. "Do I need to remind you that this man could very well destroy this world? Have you forgotten that? Do I need to appoint another lord to take over your territory and mission for you? Are you that inept?"

"No, my lord, I can handle this!" Callist yelled back, though he quickly quieted when he realized what he had done. "I-I mean, it's only been a few days, my lord. I have all of my troops out looking for him and we will have him by the end of the week, I swear."

As the silence stretched Callist began to sweat, knowing that with each second the chances of his survival were growing slimmer. Finally, the man on the other end spoke, "Swear on your magic."

"M-my lord?" Callist spluttered, staring up with wide eyes at the shadow before him.

"Swear on your magic. If you fail me on this task, you will lose your magic and you will become one of the Halfborns. Now swear on your magic."

Callist considered many things in that moment. He considered suicide, running away, even fighting the shadow. In the end though, he knew how it'd all end. "I… I swear on my magic that I will find the man you seek… my king."

"Good," King Kathan told his subordinate, suddenly sounding pleased. "I know that you will not disappoint me any longer on this matter. Now then, I have more important matters to attend to."

As his king ended the talk Callist glared at the spot where the shadow had once been. "One of these days, my _king, _you are going to die by my hands."

**}[_]{**

**Alright, here we are with chapter 3! I decided to write this chapter mostly from Keira's point of view mostly so that you could get a look at her life, but also because I wanted a change of pace. By going outside of Bolas's viewpoint, I was able to introduce a lot of stuff, including Erthin Callist and King Kathan. Unfortunately there were no spells in this chapter, but I promise there will be in the next one and some that you might recognize as having a certain touch of... well, you'll see. **

**As usual I look forward to hearing your theories and comments, especially about what you think of Keira so far. Anyway, that's all I've got to say for now, later!**

**Foxtrot Agent 21, out.**


	4. The First Crack

_Bolas awoke in the darkness once more, teetering on the edge of uncomfortably cold and unbearably hot, and a stomach churning warmness settling inside of him as the two feelings waged war on his body. Usually, when he was in the void where the monster resided, he was surrounded by a numbing cold that he could easily ignore. Something was wrong, if such a word could be used in contrast to the darkness, and he had a sinking suspicion that the new addition to the void had something to do with it._

"… _completely unnecessary, and you know it," the new voice got clearer as Bolas got closer, sounding more human in volume and density, but not in tone. It was similar to hearing an automaton speak; the voice spoke very clearly, but almost entirely without emotion, as though it were reading an academy spell book. Bolas paused for a moment to wonder just where that comparison had come from and was so lost in thought that he almost didn't hear the monster reply. This was especially amazing because when the monster spoke its voice shook whatever constituted as the floor in the darkness. _

"_Oh calm down," the monster laughed, though there was reproach and a slight warning in his voice, "You wouldn't have suffered his insolence either, so I don't see why you're so upset."_

"_I'm upset, you fire-brained idiot, because he is our only chance of getting out of here," the other retorted, and Bolas thought he caught a touch of anger entering into its voice, though he could've just been imagining it. "Is this really how the mighty Bolas wishes to go out? Because, while I can't speak for the rest of us, that isn't how I plan to die."_

_"Bolas?" The death mage spoke up before he could stop himself, cursing mentally as he felt the two beings turn their attention to him._

_"Well well, look what we have here!" The monster rumbled, obviously happy for the distraction._

_The other voice sounded distinctly less happy, almost disgusted even. "Yes, once again we have the pleasure of being graced with his presence. Though I can't say- as much as I want to- that I'm surprised. Hello, Bolas."_

_"Hm?" The monster asked, sounding a little impatient, though what for Bolas could only imagine._

_"Not you, the other- wait," the other voice suddenly sounded occupied with something. "Damn. The healing mages are pumping too much white mana into him. He's going to be leaving soon."_

_"What a pity. And here I was hoping for a long _chat_ with our friend here." The monster laughed its impossibly deep laugh while the other voice just sighed._

_"Bolas, our _friend_ here gave you a gift the last time you were here, and now it's my turn. Brace yourself."_

_"Wait what gif-AAGH!" Pain coursed through Bolas' mind once more, though where it had been a fiery vortex before, tearing its way through him, this time it was like a block of ice had been smashed into his brain, its cold coursing through his veins and spreading to the rest of his body. A burning cold filled his body but managed to stay entirely in his mind, eating him from the inside out. Then he felt a warmth thaw its way through the ice. It wasn't long before he left the darkness, the icy pain slowly drifting away as comfort rested over Bolas, bringing a smile to the young man's face._

_His last sight before waking was that of a young woman with fiery red hair waiting for him on a hill, the setting sun behind her making her white dress shine and bring an honest grin to his face._

**}[_]{**

Bolas pulled his raggedy blouse over his head distastefully, grimacing as it scraped across the raw skin of his chest. Bandages covered most of his torso and arms as well as around his forehead. The burns he had inflicted upon himself as well as those from the pain mage were quite serious, the healers had told him, and so he would still be in pain despite all of their work. They claimed to have healed him of his concussion, but his ringing headache and persistent dizziness had convinced him that these healing mages weren't to be considered at the top of their craft. Shrugging his shoulders to try and reposition the grey garment without causing himself any more discomfort, he turned to face the door and was surprised to see Keira standing in the doorway staring at him. "Oh, hey, I thought you'd left."

The young woman shook her head as though to clear her head as a light pink tint spread across her cheeks. "S-sorry for staring!" she squeaked while averting her eyes to the floor, a frown coming onto her face and banishing the blush. Bolas gave a small frown of his own at her reaction, before putting on a partly fake smile.

"It's no problem, Keira. Believe me, in my current state it's more of a compliment than you know," he gave a light chuckle at that and was pleased to see that his joke made her smile, even if it was a small one. Still, he wasn't entirely joking. Standing at 5'9" with black hair that felt entirely too long for his liking, Bolas couldn't find it in him to be described as handsome. He wasn't made of muscle like some others his age nor was he a healthy weight; he looked more half-starved than physically fit. Still, he supposed it could be worse. Somehow. Luckily, he hadn't seen a mirror yet, so he could at least pretend that his face made up for what his physique lacked. "So what do we do now?"

"What?" Keira asked, tilting her head slightly to the left.

Bolas raised an eyebrow. "I'm healed now, so what are we going to do?"

"Oh! W-well, first we have to pay and-" the brunette suddenly cut off her sentence, her eyes widening and tearing up. "Oh no."

"What is it, Keira?" The girl was shaking now, looking close to breaking down entirely. Bolas crossed the distance between them, grabbing her shoulders and her attention. "Keira, what's wrong?"

Keira looked up at him desperately, tears falling freely from her blue eyes. Her voice was cracked and he could feel her trembling under his grip as she whispered, "I can't pay for your healing."

"I thought as much," a voice stated from the hallway. Keira whirled around to face the newcomer while Bolas glared at the man. It was the law mage from earlier, when Bolas had first woken up, Arithan or something like that. Either way, he didn't like the man. "I assume that you have no money either?" the law mage directed his question at Bolas, who could only shake his head. "What a pity." Before Bolas could begin to gather his mana around himself the static electricity that accompanied the gathering and use of mana pierced the air and with an arcane word the law mage cast a spell, blue and white light intertwining and travelling at lightning speed towards Bolas.

The death mage braced himself for the energy to affect him; waiting for what he was certain was going to be a painful spell. It never hit him. Hesitantly opening his eyes, he was shocked and outraged to find Keira being contained in some sort of floating sphere of light, the ball just large enough to hold her curled up form. "What the Breach do you think you're doing?" Bolas shouted as he gathered his dark magic to himself, wishing his glare could kill the man in front of him so he could just be done with the arrogant law mage.

Said law mage stared coolly at Bolas, apparently unimpressed with the black vapors swirling around the death mage's body. "My job, Mr. Bolas. In the event that a patient is not able to pay for their healing, the person who brought them in for the healing must pay for them, having taken responsibility for their health and well-being. In the event that the patron is unable to pay they are subjected to forced labor until their debt has been paid, with twenty-five percent interest."

Bolas was silent for a moment. He didn't have any memories going back farther than a day or two so the law mage could've been lying to him and he wouldn't have been able to tell. He had the sinking feeling that law mage was telling the truth, but he couldn't just leave Keira, especially not in that state. "That may be the case, but there's no reason to do _that_ to her," Bolas protested, gesturing to the sphere of light that contained a silently sobbing Keira.

"You're right about that," Arithos stated coolly, arching an eyebrow. Bolas clenched his fists in anger, the black mana gathering more heavily around his hands. He dug in his meager memory for a spell to sufficiently kill the law mage in a sufficiently painful way. He wasn't disappointed as he heard the whisper once more and he immediately began to implement the spell- only for pain to course through his chest. He let out a wordless scream and fell to his knees, ripping at his shirt to try and ease the fire that had suddenly started there. To his bewilderment there was nothing on his chest but it didn't stop him from feeling the pain that was real enough. He fell on his side, eyesight narrowing to a dark tunnel as the pain moved from his heart and attacked his arm. He felt someone moving him and focused just enough to see a man in blue and white hovering above him, shouting something that Bolas couldn't hear. Bolas' hand seemed to move by itself, grabbing the other man's face and sending the pain into him.

The pain went away as soon as Bolas cast his spell, leaving him suddenly aware of everything that was happening around him. There were three healers at the door of the room, all of them staring at Bolas with wide eyes. Keira was staring at him with worry in her teary eyes, saying something that he couldn't hear through the magical sphere that kept her prisoner. And the law mage from before was kneeling over him, the man's eyes glowing purple as he stared down at Bolas, his body tense but unmoving.

Bolas felt a sudden, almost unnatural sense of satisfaction as the law mage helped him up, the other man's head bowed in what could only be considered reverence. Bolas turned his gaze to the three healing mages who were glaring suspiciously at him and willed his law mage to act. A moment later Keira was free of her ethereal prison while the three healers were wrapped in chains of light, struggling with wide eyes that flickered between the death mage and his slave. "Sorry about this," Bolas told the healers as he checked to make Keira was alright, "but I can't take any chances that you'd try to stop me."

"Bolas?"

"Hm?" he hummed, turning to find Keira staring at the law mage with a frown on her face.

"What did you do to him?" Bolas blinked at that, honest surprise rising unbidden on his face. Was that _anger_ he heard in her tone? He dismissed the thought; there's no way someone like Keira would be angry at him for saving her, despite his admittedly malevolent means of accomplishing it.

"A sort of mind control spell," he answered honestly, glancing at the law mage before looking back at the healing mages. The law mage had tears streaming out of his eyes and the healing mages were staring at him with varying degrees of hatred and fear, but both sights were more bearable than look of quiet discontentment that Keira was giving him. "It won't last for much longer though, so we need to leave." His words came out rushed and he knew that his quick pace would give away just how guilty she had made him feel. However, he knew it was necessary for her freedom as much as his, and so he wouldn't regret his actions.

**}[_]{**

Keira watched her only friend stalk off, staring sadly at his back before catching up to him. She was dismayed to find the spellbound law mage following them, frowning as she pushed past Bolas to lead the way. She could understand why Bolas had fought and killed the mages from earlier that day, why he had felt it right to end the lives of four men. This, however, was a different story entirely. She had been on death's door more than once in her short life and she knew that it was just a part of life, the end of the game, if you would. She could handle the thought of death and others dying, because she knew it would happen eventually. It didn't mean she liked it or promoted it, but she could handle the thought of it.

What Bolas had just done was on a different level entirely. Breaking into the law mage's mind, no matter how temporary, had put a bad taste in her mouth. In simple words, it was unnatural and immoral. In not-so-simple words, it was much worse than that. There were some things that, even had she been a normal person, Keira would've been against. Mental manipulation was among them. She had never seen it up close before, but looking upon the law mage's tear stained face, she knew her opinion on the matter was right. What reason could there possibly be for taking someone's mind and forcing them to commit acts that their souls would never have allowed? She couldn't simply forgive something like that. Now she just had to work up the courage to explain this to Bolas.

Keira sighed and quickened her pace.

Before she knew it she was back outside, letting the pale sun hit her face and the crisp air of Brookridge fill her lungs. She had the feeling that this would be her last chance to fully enjoy her home, especially with Bolas about to be a wanted criminal throughout the territory. She may be uneducated, but she was by no means stupid. She knew that she was going to be pointed out as Bolas' accomplice and that there would be no hiding from Lord Callist in his own domain.

**}[_]{**

Bolas stared at the law mage's body and tried to stop the bile that was determined to climb up his throat. _Why is this one any different than the others,_ he asked himself angrily as he grabbed the dead man's coin purse before rushing off to catch up with Keira. With any luck, she wouldn't even notice he was gone. It didn't take him long to find the exit, and even less time to realize that Keira had indeed noticed his absence.

"Where is he?"

Her question surprised him a little, but it wasn't hard to answer, "I released him from my control after rendering him unconscious. He shouldn't be waking up for a while." Even if it wasn't entirely the truth.

"So you didn't kill him?" Bolas could see the hope in her eyes, hiding underneath the guilt and sadness.

"Of course not." Again, not the entire truth, but not entirely a lie.

"Thank you!" suddenly her arms were around Bolas' neck and it was all he could to stand straight and not let out a hiss of pain as she scraped against his raw wounds. He deserved no sympathy right now.

"It's no problem, Keira, really. But we need to get some supplies for the road." He was relieved to see that she had already seen where his train of thought was going as all she did was nod and turn away from him, likely in the direction of the nearest market. Bolas frowned once she had turned her back to him, closing his eyes and letting the guilt wash over him.

His words hadn't been entirely lies, but they certainly weren't the truth. And Bolas was still trying to find out why that bothered him so much.

**}[_]{**

The aven watched the pair of humans intently as it circled above Brookridge, its black feathers ruffled by wind and excitement. It had been the first of its brothers and sisters to find the man that its master had been so desperately searching for. It knew that it would be rewarded well for its discovery, so long as it managed to bring news of the death mage before one of the others did. It had never been the fastest of its brood and it looked as though the pair were on the move, steadily moving towards where it could see a flock of its brethren circling.

Its feathers stilled as the excitement left the bird as it realized its predicament. It needed a way to prove its worth to the master, but there was little it would be able to do when its opposition was working together. If they saw her carrying the death mage they would take her prize from her with ease, and if she left to report her master there was every chance that the others would make it back before her once they saw the death mage enter into the ever-widening zone. It was going to have to take a risk, one that could get her killed, by the death mage or her master.

Going into a dive, the crow-like aven squinted its eyes against the suddenly sharp wind as it focused on its target. She knew she had only one chance to do this, one shot and then the death mage would be prepared and ready to counterattack. Now was her chance, while he was distracted by his inner thoughts. She just had to hope he wasn't as fast as her master.

Swooping down close to the ground the aven grabbed its prey, hearing the humans in the street give out cries of alarm. The death mage in particular was very vocal, letting out a shout of panic that almost managed to startle the aven. His noise was nothing compared to constant screaming of the female in its talons, though. The human female's screeching rang in the aven's ears and it took all it had not to drop the human. Why couldn't the stupid thing shut up? It wasn't like she was going to drop it, no matter how much she wanted to. Too much was riding on this for the aven to just give up.

The aven looked at its brethren, desperately hoping that they'd assume she was just hungry and was looking for a quick snack. Things like that had happened before, never for the long term benefit of the aven, and there were few cases of such things happening. Still, it wasn't unheard of for an aven to go mad with hunger and it was obvious to the aven that the others of her kind had assumed she had met the same fate, choosing to ignore her and instead focus on what would get them a safer and more lasting meal. If the aven could have smiled it would have, but instead it settled for letting out a victorious caw as it flapped its wings just a little quicker, excited to bring her master her catch.

With any luck, Callist would see the genius of her plan and not kill her on sight.

**}[_]{**

_Spell Book _

_Unnamed Spell #1= Detention Sphere_

_Unnamed Spell #2= Slave of Bolas_

**}[_]{**

**Hello, one and all! I am back! It's true, after months of a lack of wifi I have returned to the civilized world, where things are digitized and motivational posters rule the world! *ahem* Anyway, to tell the truth I've been back for a couple of days but I decided to do something productive with my time. So in between Xbox and band, I've been typing up new chapters for stories I plan to continue and stories that have been itching at my mind since I was disconnected from my computer. I haven't been reading very much, but I have brought 2 new stories and 4 chapters to the table, so I hope that those make up for it.**

**I've decided to move this story forward (I only plan on 20 chapters) especially because I have a lot planned for the finale. Okay, "planned" is a bit of a strong word for the jumble of caffeine–infused ideas I have rolling around in my head, but hopefully it all equals something good in the end. That said, please check out some of my other stories and let me know what you think. Till next time guys!**

**Foxtrot Agent 21, out.**


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