Finsternia wrote:Luminesa wrote:Mikhailov continued to smirk, until he felt the darkness underneath him swallowed by a holy light. He was surprised. "...What is this?..." He looked underneath him, and suddenly he was blinded by heavenly light. Even more than that, he almost immediately felt excruciating pain. His eyes widened, and he grit his teeth as he tried to fight it. He had to pant for air several times, as he felt he was suffocating and burning at the same time. "...No...you know...how to use...even this sort of Arcane Magic...'Consecration'...Gah!" He had to stop for a moment, and he fell to his knees in pain. "...You will surely die before your next birthday...you are unwise...You cannot handle such power...You are too-" He was then lambasted by a terrible coughing fit, and a huge blob of blood shot from his mouth as he glared toward the ground. Even when Rabbit had stolen his soul, he had not felt this sort of pain. "...You are too weak..." he mumbled, his vocals failing.
"...No, Mikhailov...You are the one who is too weak..." Rabbit whispered, finally regaining his full composure as he saw his former oppressor kneeling in pain. "...You never had the strength to love...to give of yourself to anyone...even someone who would have happily died for you...And now you will not know love...ever...You will be caught in a loveless limbo, an eternal darkness where there is no suffering or happiness...Artosh, in the meantime...no matter what happens to him...he will find peace..." The final, slim streaks beneath him connected, and the hexagon under him glowed with a warm, airy magic. Rabbit's hair floated around him like a veil, and his body looked to be a glowing-white, as though he was genuinely an Angel. An almost uncanny peace surrounded him. "...Your judgment has passed once...and you shall not deny it again..."
The hexagon appeared inside the ring of light that surrounded Mikhailov, and it combined with the holy light, creating a pink barrier of light that burned away at the man's soul. His eyes finally showed hints of terror, as he realized his plans would now be for naught. He would be forgotten. He would cease to exist among those he had once controlled. He tried to stand, but his legs failed him. "...No...I must exist...I must exist...I can die, but I must continue to exist! I MUST!" he screamed, finally breaking himself.
"...You once told me, Mikhailov...that all existence is held in place by love, and that if that being was to be unloved, they would cease to exist...Even the spirits in Hell are loved, Mikhailov...and the many souls I have sealed away were also loved once...but you have denied love...and so now love shall deny you..." he whispered, his ethereal being glowing as bright as it ever had. His spider-like appendages seemed to look like angel-wings for a moment, the six wings of a Seraph. Then a blinding light filled everything, and Mikhailov's screams filled the forest. All at once, and then nothing at all.
The echoes faded, and Mikhailov's exit finished gracefully.
Rabbit pulled his appendages back into his body, and as the seal beneath him un-wound, he stared toward Artosh. He was completely still, a pillar of peace, almost like some otherwordly spirit that had visited a lowly human. The light slowly disappeared, however, and then Rabbit looked as his normal self again. Yet the weight was lifted. His deepest ache, now healed. Yet he knew very well that it was only going to be replaced by another, as he watched Artosh in the aftermath. "...Now...it is over..." he breathed, before he walked toward him slowly.
Artosh Luxenia
"It's over..." Artosh said as he sat down on the cold earth, the barrier around them breaking apart and shattering like a fragile mirror. "It's finally over... Bunny-chan's pains are finally over..." The purple chaos dissipated into the air, the unruly magic manifesting itself as a curtain of aurora in the night sky. It almost felt serene and unnatural and the act of looking at it brings the image and feeling of the cold winter. Artosh brought his hands to his face as he finally sobbed to his heart's content. "It's over..." With the blurring of his vision by his tears, the exhaustion also contributed, making him only see silhouettes. He can still hear the hum and ring of power within his veins and he can feel himself getting cold. Soon enough, his coughing fit started and he covered his mouth. His body seems so frail and thin that time, like a leaf being threatened to be plucked by the wind. When he looked at his palms, they were stained by blood. He felt himself getting weaker and weaker, feeling nauseous and heady. "B-Bunny-chan..." He muttered weakly as tears still streamed down his face before collapsing from overfatigue, exhaustion and overuse.
Rabbit hurried to his side, and he held Artosh as he cried weakly. This entire experience had been too much for him. Rabbit began to regret bringing him into the ritual. He was a powerful Mage in his own right, but he was so fragile. Compared to him, Artosh was a child, one who was not used to such powerful opposition. He had also used far more magic than he was used to using, and so his body felt both too light and almost too glass-like, as though he was just moments from fading away. Even as he was exhausted, he began to use his magic to heal Artosh's body. He took one of his hands in his own, even as it was covered in blood, and he whispered to him.
"...It is going to be alright...I promise...he will not hurt you anymore...He is gone, gone forever...and you are still here...Your body can heal now...I will make sure of it..." he comforted him, though behind his mask he was also crying. He had caused Artosh this pain by bringing him into the ritual. He had brought upon his closest friend what he had sworn he would never let anyone know. "...Yes...I will heal you until the Arcane Magic's effects are reversed...I will save you, I promise...Mikhailov was a liar...I will not let you die...You will live a long, happy life, even if it means I have to die to give it to you..."
He took off his mask, and he held Artosh's head against his cheek, as though he was a tiny baby who was fussing in the middle of the night. He knew that he could not reverse the effects. Artosh did not have long to live, and when he died he would become a monster. He would not experience immediately the peaceful happiness of the afterlife. No, despite his kindness and innocence, he would wander as a damned soul among the living, until his form was finally destroyed mercilessly by a Jaegar. Nobody would remember him as the sweet, Arcane-wielding professor from Mana, but as an empty shell of hatred. Yet he could not face it. He told himself that Artosh had not used it that much, that this was an exception, and that he would be fine. He just needed sleep, and everything would be fine in the morning. His black tears traced down his cheeks, however, and were unmistakeable as they landed in Artosh's hair.
"...Yes...you will be happy...You will find someone who loves you...and you will have a family...And you will continue to be a wonderful teacher and friend...You will sleep tonight, and all of this will be a memory in the morning...But for now, you may cry here, while I heal your wounds..." He wanted to sleep himself, and he closed his eyes as he held his wounded friend, aching himself for rest. He was emotionally and physically exhausted. All he wanted to do was to apologize for causing his friend such harm, for being such a parasite, and for letting him suffer at Mikhailov's hands. Yet that would not help Artosh. He held these things inside, trying to stabilize his Mana before he carried him back to his room.
He stared up at the sky, at the twinkling stars that giggled above them. His expression softened, as he began to think out-loud. "...Your final spell, however...I must say...even as my body does not handle the light well...When I saw it, I felt I had...truly experienced a god...I had truly experienced a sort of divine love...and I wanted it...but I want far too much, don't I, for someone who already has quite a lot?...It is the envy in me...the darkness in me that wishes it was not darkness...And yet...the spark of light inside of me knows...it knows that such light is only allowed to those Mages who are extraordinarily blessed...And I refuse to let anyone take that blessing from you...not even death itself...I will find a way to reverse the wounds, and you will be able to live in peace..." he whispered, almost as though he was singing a lullaby.