Eternal Rest

In a realm of monarchs and dreamers, where a select few possessed the innate ability to manipulate the world's energy known as mana, Muriel Jones stood as one such individual. A seasoned magician, he had honed his arcane prowess, earning him a place of prestige within the royal court. The spoils of victory in times of war had granted him titles, land, and a life of luxury. However, the peace he enjoyed was short-lived.

Internal conspiracies and courtly scheming led to rebellion and eventually a coup, resulting in the loss of many innocent lives, including Muriel's beloved wife. Crushed and embittered, he turned away from his once-enviable life, consumed by the desire for revenge. The magician distanced himself from society, dwelling in despair for many years.

Aging gracefully, Muriel, despite appearing to be in his fifties, bore the marks of time with wrinkles around his eyes. Having crossed the century mark, his longevity owed much to the practice of arcane arts and manipulation of mana, granting him strength beyond ordinary humans. However, the trials of his past had steered him toward the solace of a bottle rather than the pursuit of magic. As years unfolded, Muriel realized he couldn't endlessly drown in self-pity. Opting to give life another chance, he sought solace in a woman named Abigail. Their union brought forth two children, and for a significant period, Muriel found contentment. Yet, the fleeting joy came to an abrupt end after forty-two years.

Once again, hopelessness crept into Muriel's heart as he witnessed the death of his wife due to illness and the loss of his children to disease. Unlike him, they were not tempered and blessed by the arcane—a term he now despised. The curse of watching his loved ones perish one by one weighed heavily on his soul. Grief-stricken, Muriel felt the haunting echoes of his past return.

Fearing a descent into despair once more, the magician turned to meditation, hoping to find inner peace. Instead, he stumbled upon a sinister revelation: the ability to sense and manipulate his own soul. Intrigued by this newfound power, Muriel's curiosity led him to delve into the secrets hidden within the human soul. Yet, what began as a distraction from his pain soon turned into an obsession.

Over the years, Muriel's emotions eroded, leaving him with a cold, emotionless demeanor. Though his magical abilities waned with age, his keen intellect remained. Realizing the toll his experimentation had taken, he sought out a disciple, a young mage prodigy, to assist him in his quest for understanding and mastery over the secrets of the soul.

In the present night, a symphony of wind howls and thunder roars echoed through the darkness. The moon, the sole illuminator, cast sporadic glimpses of light on the clearing, revealing the silhouette of a tower. This structure emerged between flashes, embraced by a dense forest and a distant mountain chain, with a solitary dirt road guiding the way.

The tower itself, fashioned from dark gray stone with a wooden underpinning, bore a striking resemblance to a lighthouse standing sentinel at sea. Standing proud at three stories high, it served as the abode of a reclusive old magician, harboring mysterious experiments within its deep basement. The ground floor housed a study room adorned with numerous shelves crammed with books, research papers, and an eclectic collection of materials. Amidst the warm glow of candlelight, two mages occupied lounge chairs, sipping on the amber elixir of their choice, deeply engaged in conversation.

"The best I could do in my prime was manipulate mana in its basic, raw form and expel it in bursts. You, however, made it into an art! Ahh, to be young again…I would do so many things differently!" The hoarse voice spoke with a touch of nostalgia.

"There's not much else I can teach you, Sailas. Both your knowledge and the ability to manipulate the arcane surpassed mine." Muriel spoke quietly, his voice bearing the weight of old age. "My strength isn't what it used to be. My power declined as I aged, and I'm afraid I'm going to need your help one last time."

"You flatter me, Master."

scoff "I stopped being your Master the moment I had nothing left to teach you! And I'll be damned if you'll spend what may be our last few moments on the formalities."

Sailas exhaled, offering his master a bitter smile. "As you wish, Muriel."

Muriel waved his hand dismissively. “It will be fine. I'll be fine! You worry too much, as usual!” Muriel said with confidence, but Sailas had doubts. He didn't trust this new type of magic involving formations and rituals. There were too many unknowns, and if a single thing goes wrong, Muriel would-

Sailas stopped his train of thoughts, noticing Muriel giving him the knowing look.

“I’m not worrying. I just wish you’d hurry up. I’m rather busy with my own research, you know?” He said, but didn't sound convincing.

"Hoho, yes, I know you've been busy lately. I really appreciate you being here with me tonight. I searched high and low, through numerous books over the years and only found a few entries regarding Soul Magic. I hoped to find a way to heal, to mend a broken heart, but Sailas, I didn't even know if what I was doing was really Soul Magic. If it was my imagination or something tangible. You said you couldn't feel the soul. I had the same thoughts at the beginning! I didn't know if it was real or my mind playing tricks on me. So I experimented, and this…," Muriel looked up toward the ceiling and upper floors, "...this is the result. I can't mend anything, only break even more."

With a tired expression, Muriel exhaled. The dark circles around his eyes, the result of working overnight, highlighted the many wrinkles his age couldn't hide anymore. Muriel was old and past his prime.

"Forgive me for taking so much of your time. I appreciate you staying with me all these years and helping me with my venture. I know it hasn't been easy on you.”

“You said that already. I didn’t mind staying. You have taught me a lot, and the insights I gained from watching you work are the reason I've been able to broaden my horizons. I will be indefinitely thankful to you for that! My only regret is that I wasn't able to accept your teachings and learn Soul Magic. I just…didn't have it in me."

"Oh, pish-posh, Sailas! Probably for the best you didn’t! Others don’t take kindly to that type of magic. You’d be an outcast, like me! Not that I don't mind being left alone, but you're too young to live such a life!” Muriel raised his voice and voiced his struggles. After a moment of awkward silence, Muriel gulped his drink down and prepared to stand up. “Shall we head upstairs?”

Sailas assisted Muriel in rising and guided him towards the staircase. The old man's movements were no longer as agile, and the sounds of his creaking bones resonated, mirroring the stairs they ascended.

“Is everything in order?” Muriel inquired as they passed the entrance to the second floor. Sailas glimpsed at the people confined in cages through the doorway and averted his gaze. “Everything is in order. The prisoners are drugged and shouldn't make sense of what’s happening to them. The formation has been set up according to the diagram, but I still think we should adjust the mana output! Just in case something goes wrong! If anything, we can try again…some other day.”

Muriel, leaning on the arm of his disciple, raised his head just enough to meet Sailas' eyes.

“I can’t stop now. I don't have enough in me for a trial run!"

“Still, I don’t thi-” Sailas attempted to reason, but Muriel's determination to proceed was unyielding.

“It’s too late to change my mind! I have to do this now while I still have enough power and strength to go through with it!”

The rest of the ascent was silent, and upon reaching the third floor and their destination, Sailas posed the crucial question - what if his Master failed?

“Then that’s all there is to it.” Muriel replied nonchalantly. Sailas disliked the tone in his voice and reprimanded Muriel with a tinge of anger. “Life isn’t a flimsy thing you can just throw away!”

Muriel scoffed but adopted a surprisingly caring expression, uncommon for someone of his demeanor. “My time had long passed. I should've died decades ago. Life is pain, and life is pointless, so why bother living if death is all there is to it, in the end?"

"I don't want to live my remaining years deteriorating while I feebly hang onto what little life I have left. I want to live anew or not live at all!” Muriel stated with unwavering conviction.

Sailas was momentarily taken aback but swiftly regained his composure. The old man was stubborn and possessed a particularly grim view of the world and life. Nonetheless, Sailas couldn't help but frown and wished to voice his concerns about the ethics of their actions but opted for silence. It seemed a bit too late for moral debates.

“Ohh, I know that look. Don't give me that look! I know what you're thinking! Let me tell you! They were bandits, outlaws, and men wanted by the law, Sailas. Killers! None of them are innocent! As for the puppets," Muriel gestured toward the inside of a chamber in front of them, “you know full well who they were and what they've done! No one will mourn the wretch that trafficked human beings! Besides, there's nothing in them anymore, I made sure of that. They're just empty shells now. I know you never liked my methods, but progress required sacrifices! And I had sacrificed enough already!”

“I know! I know." Sailas repeated quietly. "There's no turning back now.”

Muriel nodded, satisfied with his disciple's answer. “Now, what do you plan to do next? Where will you go? In case... and I mean just in case something happens to me and I don't make it, I leave my tower and all my possessions in your hands. Do what you will with them.” Muriel changed the topic as he began undressing.

“No thank you. No one lives in towers anymore. Ominous-looking basements are all the rage now.” Sailas replied with a chuckle, then added that he would like to travel the world, explore the undiscovered! I’m not like you. I can’t stand being in the same place for long periods of time. I wanna visit other places, see different cultures and develop and learn new abilities!”

Muriel nodded in understanding. He never was much for traveling and never ventured beyond the boundaries of the kingdom. He felt a tinge of envy as Sailas passionately spoke of a journey into the unknown.

A six-sided chamber adorned the third and top floor, and in the middle of the chamber, a circle was carved onto the stone floor. Numerous words, intangible at first glance, adorned the inside of the circle, and from it, explicit webs of lines extended outward. Each line terminated in one corner of the chamber where a mana crystal lay on a pedestal. The mana crystals would be used to amplify the formation, and beneath the circle, on the floor below, were cages with the sacrifices.

Muriel walked over and stood in the middle of the circle. A look of concentration adorned his face, and an exquisite ceremonial robe draped over him.

“Was the robe really necessary?” Sailas asked, eyeing the overly decorative garment.

“Hush…”

The candles flared up, and the wind outside gently whistled, giving an unnatural and falsely calm ambiance just before the loud crack of thunder. The sound of thunder stretched and diminished until it could be heard no more, then heavy rain began to pour, creating an ominous yet fitting atmosphere.

"You know what? Before we begin, you might want to take cover outside the chamber." Muriel suggested afterward, then quickly added, "Just to be on the safe side because, with the amount of mana I'll be handling…”

There was no need to finish that sentence. Sailas understood that containing the energy in a container without sufficient capacity could lead to rather explosive results. Once he found a safe place outside the chamber, Muriel began the ritual.