My sister, he realized with a heart-wrenching pain, one nearly as painful as the sword stabbed into him. My sister is dead, my beautiful little Crisilla…
Tears flowed freely from his eyes as he gasped painfully, reaching out for her slowly and delicately. “It’s all my fault,” he said in a soundless whisper, sobbing as he gently touched a lock of her brown hair. “All my fault…”
Caine suddenly stiffened, yanking the sword out of the two bodies before him. Era let out a bloodcurdling scream as the blade tore out of him, and he collapsed to the floor in a bloody heap.
“Death was here,” Caine said in a panic, whipping his head around. “He was here, even before she died, how strange a thing to happen…”
Era lay motionless on the floor, clutching his gaping wound as he fought to remain conscious. Forget her, came a voice in the back of his mind. As of now, she does not matter. Caine does not matter. Nothing matters except for healing yourself, so do it. Right. Now.
Lacking any reason to object, Era focused his full attention to visualizing his wound healing. He saw the blood soaked to his robe crawling back into his body, pumping through his veins again, his flesh sealing up. It was the most vivid visualization he had ever had.
Now I have a score to settle, Era thought in that strange, yet familiar, voice. Lurching to his feet using his staff as a third leg, Era glared icily at Caine.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gabriel stirring. Groaning, Gabriel slumped forward, trying to support his aching body. “Era,” he mumbled, “you okay, kid?”
Still locking eyes with his former apprentice, Era nodded. “I’m fine,” he said stoically, sounding like a different person.
Confused at Era’s words but more focused on Caine, Gabriel pushed himself to his feet. Only then did he notice the slumped figure of Crisilla and the remaining blood on Era’s robes.
“Oh shit… shit, shit, shit, Crisilla, is she…”
“Quite dead,” Caine stated. “And it looks like your little act is over, Lucien. I knew someone in this mad little conspiracy had to crack sooner or later.”
He thinks this is all a trick, Era realized in the back of his mind, his panic blanketed by his own attempt to calm himself. He truly is mad; he thinks the whole world is against him.
Keeping a stony expression, Era nodded. “Yes, Caine,” he said, “it is over. What will you do now?”
Caine paused for a moment, clearly not expecting the question. “You know, I’m not entirely sure,” he said. “I never really saw you giving in like this. Well, as long as you’re playing along, why don’t you apologize to me.” He smirked, looking down his nose at Era.
Let me out, Era commanded of his stoic demeanor. I want this to be real.
The mask he had held in place to keep his emotions reined in dissolved, and with it came a rush of sorrow and remorse. His eyes blurring, he sank to his knees before a bewildered Caine, bowing forward until his nose touched the ground.
“Caine, I… there are no words that could do me justice… I am so, so sorry.” He sobbed quietly in between words. “The things I did to you, the atrocities I committed… I know I can never take them back, and I know you have no reason to forgive me.” He slowly sat up, keeping his eyes downcast and his words soft. “I have no excuses. I have only my sincerest apologies, and I mean them from the bottom of my heart.”
Caine stood in stunned silence for several moments, his eyes locked on Era as he flickered through a rush of emotions. Eventually he began to fume, his face reddening in rage. “You want to apologize,” he growled. “You desire forgiveness from me. You have the audacity to mock me! You kneel at my feet while on the inside you laugh as I fall victim to your charade! I am no fool, Baines, and I will not sit by while you make me into one!!”
“No… Caine, please, listen to me…” Era pleaded, beginning to panic.
Howling in rage, Caine’s eyes sparked with an eerie grey light as the room around them flickered between planes. Patches of grey void rippled along the walls, whipping up a violent wind that sent loose papers and lightweight books in the room flying.
Gabriel lumbered over to Caine, grabbing a heavy leather-bound book and swinging it towards the back of his head with all his might. It made contact, sending Caine sprawling, but he quickly scrambled to his feet, countering with an invisible hand that clutched at Gabriel’s throat. He let out a strangled gasp, choking and struggling for breath.
“Gabriel!!” Era cried, his head whipping between his friend and his foe. Attack or save? What do I do?!
Attack, he realized, instantly calming down. All emotions deadened within him as he visualized a fire starting on the crazed man’s hands. The spell was almost instantaneous, and Caine’s hands burst into flame. His concentration broken, Gabriel fell to the floor, coughing and sputtering as he caught his breath.
Caine screamed in pain, quickly dousing the fire with a summoned “cloud” of water that he waved his hands through. His attention refocused to Era, and he created a wave of needles that shot out towards him.
Era threw up a barrier as fast as he could, but some of the needles still made contact, nicking him and stabbing him. His heart grew cold with fear as pain flooded his senses, but the stoic mask fought for control. Concentrate! he told himself, You need to concentrate!
He cleared his thoughts, focusing only on Caine. They traded spells again and again, barriers flying up at just the right moments as they rained cantraps upon one another. They were burned, stabbed, shocked, choked; they were at a dead stalemate. Both were struggling to remain standing. Both were exhausted mentally and physically. Both could hardly find the will to summon up their next spell.
Both refused to back down.
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