Chapter 86 – Epilogue [End of Book 1 | Volume 3]

Ashern City - 5th of Harvestide, year 315 UC

The cell was cold. Not that he minded. Physical discomfort was merely another sensation to be observed, categorized, and dismissed. After decades of service to the Inquisition, he had learned to transcend such trivial concerns.

His new accommodations in Ashern City's underground facility were a significant downgrade from his previous quarters, but he understood the necessity. The Inquisition was nothing if not practical. An asset became a liability when its value was outweighed by its risk. And lately, he had become quite the risk indeed.

The mind mage settled against the damp wall, his pale blue mask – the universal identifier of his kind – resting beside him on the thin mattress. There was no need for anonymity here, deep beneath the city streets, surrounded by the kingdom's most dangerous criminals and valuable prisoners. Here, identities were irrelevant. Only power mattered, and his had been thoroughly suppressed.

He glanced down at the metal cuffs encircling his wrists. They contained ether-dampening properties specifically calibrated to mind magic. They had never been removed, not once in the three weeks since his transfer.

"Hey."

A voice called from the adjacent cell.

"You with the fancy cuffs. What'd they bring you in for?"

He didn't bother turning toward the voice. The other prisoners were inconsequential, merely background noise in the symphony of his greater purpose.

"Must've been something special."

The voice continued.

"They don't waste those fancy bracelets on just anyone."

A smile touched his lips, though he didn't reply. Special indeed. If only they knew the extent of his work, the seeds he had planted throughout the kingdom. The careful restructuring of minds, the subtle alterations to memories, the rewiring of perceptions. Art in its purest form.

The recent incidents throughout the kingdom – seemingly ordinary citizens suddenly turning violent, attacking loved ones while claiming to see monsters – were merely the beginning. The Inquisition suspected a rogue mind mage, and they weren't entirely wrong. But their understanding was incomplete, their perspective limited by conventional thinking.

He closed his eyes, letting his awareness expand despite the dampening effect of the cuffs. They were impressive devices, certainly, but like all things created by human hands, they contained imperfections. Tiny flaws, microscopic inconsistencies in the magitech device. Nothing obvious, nothing exploitable by ordinary means. But he was far from ordinary.

For years, he had been testing the boundaries, probing the weaknesses, sending the smallest tendrils of his consciousness through hairline fractures in the suppression field. Not enough to be detected, just enough to reach beyond his physical confinement.

"Come to me."

He whispered, his voice barely audible even to himself.

In the darkness behind his eyelids, an image formed – a boy with white hair and red eyes, pale skin. His finest work, his most promising experiment.

"Come, little one."

He continued.

"Just a bit longer."

The boy had been such a perfect subject – abandoned as an infant, no family to interfere, no connections to complicate the procedure. A blank canvas upon which to create his masterpiece. The Inquisition had been so focused on the boy's unique magical attribute that they never questioned the subtle alterations he had made during the memory implantation process.

Little triggers, carefully placed throughout the constructed memories. A mind designed to fracture along predetermined fault lines when the time was right.

"What are you mumbling about over there?"

The voice from the next cell asked.

"You one of those crazies they've been bringing in?"

He ignored the interruption. In his mind's eye, he could see the boy – no, the young man now – his consciousness splintering beautifully. Soon, the final trigger would activate, and his creation would reach its full potential.

A smile spread across his face as he sensed a distant response to his call.

"Come, little one."

He whispered again, satisfaction warming his voice.

"Your true purpose awaits."

The cuffs might restrain his body, the cell might confine his physical form, but his influence extended far beyond these walls. The Inquisition believed they had contained the threat by imprisoning him, never realizing that he was merely one component of a much larger design.

Soon, very soon, his creation would come to him, drawn by the invisible threads he had woven into the very fabric of the boy's mind. And when that happened, when his masterpiece was complete, the kingdom would witness true power – the power to reshape not just memories, but reality itself.

The pieces were in motion, the game advancing exactly as he had planned. All that remained was to wait for his creation to fulfill its purpose.

This is the end of what I'd consider Book 1, which turned out to be a little over 260,000 words.

The completion took longer than I wanted, but what can you do? I'm just glad I managed to finish everything to the best of my ability.

I'm not sure about continuing posting this novel, mostly because I don't think it has much traction. Which is fine, I guess that just means I have to revisit what I wrote and see where things went wrong.

But then again, there is a lot I want to explore and I've been working on this for a while. So honestly, I'll probably continue writing it as I want to see where Bryan goes from here. This isn't really a 'hopeful' tale, but the story has changed so much from where I began.

One thing I dislike is 'children' save the world type of stories. My plan is not to have the entire story take place only at the academy, the worlds pretty large and it should be explored. I consider Bryan's tale 'minor' in a larger world, but I'm not sure how to tell that large story.

Lastly, I just want to thank the couple of people who've read so far.