After the wars in the past, violence was looked down on. The wars the had destroyed numerous kingdoms, the millions of children left orphaned, and the poverty that followed. They occurred thousands of years ago, yet the consequences are seen to this day.

If Vale taught me anything, it was the fact that holding a weapon means holding a life. A strike will always meet something, and I must bear that responsibility. Yet, I've held a weapon since my earliest memories. Perhaps that responsibility has diminished inside me. Life has meaning, until I am the one taking it.

I did not voice these thoughts to Lethia. When swords appeared in my hand from thin air and she saw the familiarity in my grip, the bond that had formed from a decade of training. Even as a servant in the palace, I did not abandon my training. My muscles grew weak, but nothing else did. Coordination, observation, balance, and control.

"Who trained you, boy?"

"...My father."

I was surprised to hear the hatred in my own voice. Was it that easy to hate someone? Someone that had raised you? He'd never done anything bad until that moment, yet I could not forget the scars on my back. The scars that had nearly brought me death, if it weren't for a miracle like magic.

"He trained you well," she acknowledged. "You just need experience, and you'd make an excellent warrior."

"Are you from the south?" I asked. The north and south feud had not ended after the war. Resources and people had run low, but the hatred did not.

"Yes. Does that bother you?"

"No," I said. "That was centuries before me."

She grinned, "Good."

It was difficult to learn in a cell. It was dark, so all light (which came naturally with magic) had to be dulled. Which took more control and focus. Lethia said I was fortunate to have at least a bit of talent, otherwise I'd be screwed. I thanked her for the encouraging words.

I groaned in frustration. I was facing the wall, conjuring up a small shield. My body could cover the light at the size, but magic was far brighter than one would expect. In a way, needing such control was good for my growth. My life was on the line, too, in many ways. The world's life as well, but that wasn't a motivating thought. I still had trouble believing it.

"Oh, come on, Rey. You've been at this for months."

I gasped. More dramatically than one would expect, but this cell has worn me out. "You can tell the time?"

"Haha! Of course!" she said cockily. Another thing I've learned is this woman is far more arrogant than I'd expect, but she says her master was the best wielder in history. Which can't be possible. She was alive at the start of time.

"How long have... I been in here?"

"You tell me," she smirked. "Connecting with magic is connecting with the earth. That's why your sight got better. You simply sense more."

"But-- huh? How would that help me find out how long I've been here?" It might help me have a better perception of time in the present... but how would it fix the perception of the past? It feels as though I've been here for 5 years. Sometimes I wonder if I have. 

The explosions have gotten louder and more numerous. It was possible they forgot about the prisoners. Though, the supply of food still came, meaning that couldn't be possible. Even though it seemed to lessen with each day. They were probably running out of resources to feed prisoners. 

"You'll know. Why would I lie?" she shrugged. 

While I trained, she slept. While I slept, she trained. I asked, "Are you on guard against something?" 

"Against what? Those measly guards?"

I shrugged. "Your behavior is odd."

"Oh, I guess I learned it a while back. Feels like I should always protect those nearby."

"How righteous of you," I muttered. 

I could make rather large shields now. It was hard to truly know my capability since the cell was small, but it seemed like the knowledge was fundamental. The size and expanse of things were based on an individual's magic power, but once the ideas were learned, they could be applied everywhere. Meaning, learning to make a small shield was just as easy as learning to make a large shield. Besides energy, because larger meant more power. 

"It's astounding..." I said. The water droplet in my hand swirled around. "It came from thin air."

"Not really. Magic is everywhere, waiting to be transformed."

"Why is it killing the earth? Why does it have to be used?"

"I don't know. Nobody expected such a thing to happen. But... I think there's too much magic in the air. When it's used, it's gone. It doesn't return to a pure, transformable state. And the world naturally produces it. Meaning for centuries, magic has been building up without use. Too much of anything is never good."

"I see. But that doesn't explain it, does it? Killing things... what an odd reaction."

She shrugged.

I had run out of things to learn. Creation, control, elemental conjuring. When I was bored, I tried to think of other ideas. I tried to conjure up books of information, or visions of the future. What was the limit? 

I couldn't create things I didn't know. Otherwise, I could make anything. Even if it doesn't exist. "Can you create a person?" I asked.

"You can. That's a method they used in the war. False armies made by magic. But they don't have real souls. It's impossible to truly grasp the concept of a soul or consciousness, so it's impossible to create. They have to be controlled by the user."

"Hm," I hummed curiously. Yet the boy created beasts, right? Does he control them all?
At night, we often joined our cells to create one. We turned the wall dividing it into an illusion, something we can easily pass through. And we fought. Lethia was incredible, and I wondered where she had gained such experience. 

I also began to understand the sense of time. Even my past memories, which were foggy and sleep-filled became clear. I asked, "Have I been here for 2 years?"

"Haha! Yes, you have."

"...How long have you been here?"

She didn't respond to that. 

One morning, the ground shook so violently that I was pulled off my bed. The ceiling let down bits of debris, and I heard shouts and bangs from the other prisoners. The rumbles continued as if they would never cease. For the first time, I realized I would be freed into a war-filled world. 

"Do you sense them?"

My body was stiff. I couldn't move. "Yes," I said. The beasts. They didn't belong. They were created with magic, but...

"They have a conscious," she whispered. 

Something created by magic was clear. It came from nothing rather than something. Morphing something created by magic was easy, but creating something that naturally exists is difficult. Since they aren't made to be controlled, or altered. A soul, or a consciousness, is the same. It naturally exists.

The beast's consciousness isn't made from magic. Yet they beasts are. What are they? I know Lethia wondered the same. It was an unsettling feeling. To sense it. Calli is controlling something never meant to be controlled. 

"I'm sure you realized this, but the more magic one has, the more one connects with the Universe."

I nodded. Each of my senses continued to grow exponentially. The stench of the dungeons became more unbearable, but my tolerance grew along with them. Meaning it also grew more bearable. 

She continued, "I don't want to imagine how much power the prophet boy has."

I laughed softly. Yet she wants me to stop him. I didn't regret my choice of freeing him. If it wasn't my fault in this world, then it would've been someone else's. There's no avoiding fate. "You know, I used to be so obsessed with the idea of freedom. And now, I've been locked here for two years, yet I feel more free than ever."

"Uhm, okay."

"Don't be like that. When I leave here, my life will truly be gone. I'll probably die trying to stop Calli. If I don't, my life will be dedicated to that goal. War steals everyone's freedom, including the nobles and the royals. I stole everyone's freedom."

"You don't sound very guilty."

"My intentions were right when I did it. I won't dwell on such useless things," I said. Her laugh was demeaning.

"I'm starting to think you might be a psychopath or something. Do you ever feel remorse?"

"Do you want me to? Do you want me to sit here, agonizing over my actions that I can never take back? To let a kid die because of some supposed fate that may not even happen? I have faith in what is in front of me."

She snorted. "I hope you live long enough to see the tragedy you caused."

Regardless of my words, the guilt ate away at my heart. It tore it apart. I soothed the pain with my words, my forced thoughts that I clung to like a lifeline. How could I save the world if I couldn't save myself? 

The final year was monotonous. We sparred at night, but we had to keep the moves small and reduced. Which was good for control and focus, but not for experimentation. The food had indeed stopped coming, as was expected. For us, it was fine. We could create such things. However, the cries and pleas of those around us haunted the night's air. 

The element of magic. The purest form. Lethia didn't speak to me anymore. I'd run out of things to say, and she never spoke about herself. We could only question the events so much before they were unable to be answered. The gold light swirled around my fingers, the intricate patterns of swirls and twists imprinting lightly into my skin. I had an inkling of a premonition-- I wasn't supposed to do this.

I still had half a year left. I never left my bed. I didn't need to, anymore. Magic could do anything. I didn't even have to chew my food. I sat with magic. I had nothing else.

It was difficult to bring magic out of hiding. As if it was shy to show its true self. I realized life is all around, truly, if one calls for it. The golden particles began to glow in front of my eyes. At first, they seemed to run from my sight. Then they began to vibrate excitedly. 

"Rey."

The voice I hadn't heard for months finally spoke. 

"You...what are you doing?" she asked, her voice trembling. 

"What?" I responded, my voice rough from lack of use. 

"How did I not notice...?"

"Spit it out. What's got you all worried?"

"Using magic like that... it shortens your lifespan."

"I know," I replied. Seeing it the way I do, I can feel it taking energy. An energy that was never meant to be touched. It's the sacrifice for seeing something never meant to be seen. 

She laughed with exclamation. "You know? I wake up one day, and your presence is about half its strength. I wake up, and you're nearly dead. Did you forget your promise? There's no point in messing with magic like that, Rey!"

"No, I... will you believe me? I feel like I can do anything. Even fly. Is this what that kid did? To create a conscious? ...That's why I did it. To understand."

She laughed again. This time sadder, but it wasn't followed by any words. I didn't continue my exploration of magic. Why did I do it? Because I could, I suppose. It was there, within my grasp, so I took hold of it. It was such a gentle thing. I felt the magic's warmth when I opened my eyes. I saw their excitement to be seen. 

Many say man is made to be lonely. Perhaps that's only because we keep our eyes closed. The truth in front of us is too terrifying to accept, even though man understands those truths. We are made to suffer together. To understand another's loneliness and desire for freedom.

I was shackled to the palace by my father, who had locked the chains around my ankles and wrists for unknown reasons. He may have abandoned me, truly and bluntly, without any bigger intentions. Is it okay for me to accept that? To accept that I had simply become a burden or an unwanted child? I want to hate, and yet I can't.

Clang!

"Rey-- oh my goodness, what did you do to yourself...?"