Paryl was woken up from his bout of unconsciousness in a measly hour. His head hurt, but he didn't let himself cry; he was brave, after all.
The boy looked around, praying that it was all a dream. Unfortunately, dark blood stains that were being cleaned by staff said differently.
'I am brave, I am brave, I am brave, I am brave...'
He kept repeating that to himself, praying his tears wouldn't spill out. It was all too vivid to him. A human couldn't remember pain, but they could remember being in pain. The unmovable hands crushing his windpipe, the weight of a limp, beheaded corpse on him, the sheer fear he felt in those moments, the terror of helplessness.
But all that was nothing compared to the thing that was the biggest cause of the sense of despair looming over him.
It was the thoughts he had at that moment. The urge to rip apart Elizabeth's soft flesh with his bare hands. Payton didn't realize it, but he was shaking. His vision was cloudy; he desperately held back tears, but they spilled anyway.
Nobody came to comfort him. Nobody cared. The staff cleaned the blood. Dr. Maria watched him from the doorway. The mana conjured ice, an evolution of water magic, was long broken and laid in trash cans in the hallways.
He cried, hating himself for it. He tried to hold his breath to stop a sob multiple times; it didn't work. Only made his lungs burn harder, forcing him to cough up more bile.
He wanted Mr. Ethan. He wanted the kind man to hug him. He wanted Mr. Bear. He wanted to cry into it and hide his shame.
Paryl tried to reach towards one of the cleaning ladies, looking for some sort of familiar warmth, but his small hand was swatted away easily. The back of his palm stung. Tears started spilling faster.
He wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear.
These thoughts were interrupted when a black-haired elf offered the young man a handkerchief.
Paryl took a couple of minutes to compose himself. The elf waited next to him, his hand on the child's shoulders.
"Are you okay, buddy? I went to the toilet, and Elizabeth sprinted in, blocking off the path. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been so careless."
Paryl shook his head, hiccuping from the earlier tears.
"It's okay, Mr. Arthur. I know you did your best. But...why did she attack me? I never did anything to her!"
Arthur shot a glance at Dr. Maria, who answered him with a nod. The whole situation was a catastrophe, but the overseers decided to declassify the 'incident.'
"You know that mana imprint on your back, kiddo?"
Paryl responded with a shaky nod, saying,
"Yeah?"
"I don't know the specifics, y'see, but it allows you to access something like a bloodline transformation. It's an attempt to mimic the dragons."
The boy seemed confused.
"The what?"
"Y'know, the dragons! Human-like things that could transform into big, strong creatures! The extinct ones!"
The boy's face lit up with unasked questions.
"Seriously?"
Arthur sighed.
"Dragons lived up north in a small valley, then one day, like seven hundred years back, they just disappeared, and the whole land was reduced to a flat wasteland. No one knows what happened."
"Oh, that's sad..."
"Very sad indeed. Anyway, their bloodline ability—you know what a bloodline ability is, right?"
"An ability that all the members of a race have."
"Look at you, you educated youngin! So, their bloodline ability was transformation, kind of like the beast folk. Except instead of transforming into human-animal hybrids, they transformed into monstrous lizards with giant wings, horns, and tails! Well, I guess lizards already have tails...so it was redundant—whatever! You get the picture!"
Arthur purposefully put on a goofy act, making wild arm movements with the story. He wanted the kid to be in a happier mood for what came next.
Paryl looked at the man for a few seconds. Then asked:
"So what do the giant lizards have to do with me?"
"That imprint is supposed to act like a...copy of the bloodline ability. However, you don't seem conscious of using it. The day it was given to you, it activated, and you… well...y'know."
His voice suddenly became very somber.
"Some people got caught in the crossfire, including Elizabeth's sister. She was a real nice lady. Worked down the hallway to the left, one hell of a cook."
Composing himself, he continued.
"Liz insisted she was fine, that she knew it wasn't your fault. We have a tight limit on what personnel we can take due to the shortage of magic users in Crown's territories. She also had the ability to use ice, which could have put a stop to your rampages, as it's unaffected by mana. So she got placed in the team."
Turning around to face the child, he spoke softly:
"It seems she couldn't bear the sight of you. I'm sorry, kid."
Paryl's world spun...he did what? What was he talking about? That made no sense; he didn't remember any of that!
There was one burning question in his mind. He needed to know only one thing.
"Did I kill anyone?"
Arthur looked at the kid somberly, then turned his attention towards the blood stains that were almost fully cleaned. He seemed deep in thought.
"Nine people."
Paryl's eyes widened, his hands shaking.
"What?"
"It wasn't your fault, kid."
He gripped the boy's shoulder tightly.
"It wasn't your fault."
Paryl didn't know what to think. He felt strangely apathetic. He didn't remember the scenes of the rampage; he hadn't even seen any of the aftermath. One question surged to his lips.
"Did I kill Mr. Ethan?"
Arthur quickly answered.
"You didn't."
Paryl wanted to let out a sigh of relief, but he wasn't sure if he should. Did it matter if he killed Ethan or not? He killed a different person in his place.
Arthur's eyes pricked with tears. The boy didn't deserve to go through this. No one did. He hated the facility and despised every single one of those damn researchers. He yearned to leave so terribly bad, but he would be silenced. The elf turned his attention back to the kid, who was staring at the ceiling silently. His gaze wasn't on it.
"Wanna see magic, kid?"
The question snapped Paryl out of his thoughts. He hadn't heard that right, had he?
"Huh?"
"Kid, I may not look like it, but I'm a professional. I can show you things no one else can."
Arthur needed the boy to say yes. He wanted to get the 'incident' off his thoughts this instant. He couldn't bear to see a child in agony any longer.
"Y…yeah? Sure."
Paryl answered. He was completely shaken by the elf's previous words, but he didn't want to think about it. He was a brave boy, and he wouldn't let something he wasn't at fault for get him down.
"Okay, first...ta-da!"
He summoned a weapon seemingly out of nowhere. He knew that it was a cursed weapon, also referred to as CW, because a researcher did experiments on him with one.
When a person held an item while dying, and possessed a dying wish, them would become a CW. The wish would be reflected in their ability.
When it touched the skin of a different person, it would 'bind' to them, allowing wielders to summon the CW as long as they had enough mana to do so.
"Cool! What's its ability?"
"It allows me to channel elemental magic through the blade. Wanna see?"
"Yeah!"
Arthur was a versatile fighter. He could use 3/4 of the basic elemental magic types and even an evolution of air, thunder.
It's a shame he didn't have much talent aside from that, making him mediocre. He truly was perfect for a covert research facility. He was stuck in this hellhole.
"Okay…"
The sword's edge lit up with fire.
"This is fire. It's born out of anger, rage."
The blade cut down in quick, short bursts. Paryl didn't know anything about fencing, but if he did, he would've realized what he was seeing was an incredibly aggressive style.
The sword suddenly started flowing smoothly through the air, like a mountain river. The edge was surrounded with water.
"This is water. It's born out of fluidity, calmness."
The style changed once more. Wind adorned his blade. This time it was an unorthodox style. Arthur never put his entire weight into the strikes, making them weaker but giving them added maneuverability. It was like a strike could come out of anywhere.
"This is air. It's born out of yearning for freedom."
Arthur's face hardened. He executed one rapid stab forward. The sword flashed with blue light.
"And that's the evolution to air, Thunder. It's born out of precision, out of a lack of mercy. It has to have intent behind it, and the attack has to be perfect."
Paryl stood up, clapping.
"Wow! That's so cool, Mr. Arthur!"
Arthur exaggeratedly bowed towards him, dismissing his CW.
"Thank you, thank you. You're too kind."
"Can I ask how you went through that ice block yesterday? You said ice is unaffected by mana."
Arthur grinned comically.
"It's my personal ability! I can ignore space. And as I wasn't affecting the ice but the space it resided in, I managed to get through."
"That's so cool, Mr. Arthur!"
The blood was finally cleaned, and Arthur was ordered to leave. Dr. Maria came in, looking like she was about to have a panic attack.
'Calm down...Calm down, Maria...the overseers arent mad at you! You won't end up like Ethan...You won't...'
"DS-28, you are forbidden to leave your room from now until I say otherwise. Am I clear?"
Paryl believed he was guilty of last night's events. He wanted to crawl into a hole from the shame.
"Yes, Ms. Maria."
Maria left the room as fast as she got into it.
If only she knew how much a simple order could change fate.