Hero Is Now Villain

"Why?" asked Ryzen after a long, confused pause.

"Because Valforrest in its entirety benefits with the High Mage—this certain High Mage—breathing no longer," answered Ophidia.

"I meant, why me?"

"Because you are an outsider with a recent notoriety around here. The Black Knight who murdered seven men and left a survivor to tell a story. The Black Knight is you, in case you did not catch that."

[No, Laab's Champion. Correct her, my child.]

Ryzen waved off the groaning voice in his head and stared hard at Ophidia, who still looked beautiful with the playfully sinister smile on her face.

"So you are going to frame me. A mindless murderer who goes on to kill a state's High Mage," said Ryzen, not sure whether he should be mad or not.

"We will have a polished narrative, of course. The High Mage, intelligent and righteous as ever, set out on an investigation of his own... well, with some of his fellow mages, and 'you' happen."

"You want me to kill the other mages as well?" asked Ryzen, glancing worriedly at Garbiel's pale, shocked face.

"No, just the old man in the cell. We will take care of the rest," said Ophidia.

"And who is this 'we' you are talking about?"

Ophidia blinked, smiling strangely sadly.

"Valforrest."

Kisha interrupted angrily.

"Horseshit. Look, I neither care nor know much about politics, but this plan smells just like your old, bald lord boss," frowned Kisha sickly.

Ryzen had been silent for a while before opening his mouth calmly.

"Unless you put him up to this," said Ryzen to Ophidia.

"You can speculate all you want. I just want results. The result," said Ophidia, getting up from her seat and bowing gracefully to her wary guests.

"I will tell the guards so you can enter the Dungeon and visit the High Mage anytime. I do wish the matter gets taken care of in no longer than a couple days."

Ophidia exited the hall without further words, leaving Ryzen and the company alone in the stark, spacious hall with food and tea that had long gone cold.

"Let us just bounce this city, look for another way, another city to get that information you want," suggested Kisha quietly.

"And leave the High Mage like this?" snapped Garbiel.

"Yes, is there a problem?" blinked Kisha, genuinely curious.

Garbiel shook her head in dismay and turned to Ryzen instead.

"What are you going to do, Ryzen?"

Ryzen, arms crossed and deep in thought, spoke slowly.

"The High Mage dies whether we do it or not. My very presence gives them the perfect excuse to have him dead so abruptly, unexpectedly," said Ryzen.

"Exactly. You do not have to kill him," nodded Kisha.

"But I want to see him," said Ryzen, getting up.

"And rescue him?" asked Garbiel hopefully, getting up as well. Kisha got up grudgingly, but not before downing a full glass of mead and smacking her lips obstinately.

"Let us hear him out first," concluded Ryzen.

.

.

.

Frostmarch Dungeon was the name for the city's prison located in the bas.e.m.e.nt of Castle Gale. The guards by the entrance to the Dungeon exchanged furtive glances when they saw Ryzen's black armor and did not even bother to confiscate Ryzen's imposing black sword, let alone perform a body check for hidden weaponry.

"Are you sure you do not want to take away my weapon?" asked Ryzen, lifting up Bloodrink in plain sight.

"What weapon?" asked the guard in return, blinking stoically.

"Well, that was obvious," scoffed Kisha as they entered the dark, damp corridor of the prison led by a silent guard until they reached one of the farthest, dirtiest cell of the block.

"I will come back in half an hour," said the guard tersely before leaving.

"But there is no one here," frowned Kisha, putting her face closer to the bars until, bang, a bony hand reached out just before Kisha took a quick step back but not without shock and horror on her face.

A dirty middle-aged man with unkempt silver hair and dressed in rags held out his hand desperately on the other side of the barred cell. He mumbled something through his dried, chapped lips, a piteous sight indeed.

"Are you the High Mage?"

"Water," croaked the mess of a man assumed to be the imprisoned High Mage.

"How long has he been in here?" gasped Garbiel, her face agonized at seeing a fellow mage treated in such a way.

"Pretty long, by the smell at least," frowned Kisha after a few tentative sniffs and almost gagging afterwards.

Ryzen looked around and noticed an unclean water basin with a wooden cup next to it. He filled the cup and handed it to the High Mage between the bars. The High Mage took the cup with shaking hands and drank hurriedly, hungrily.

"Need more?" asked Ryzen.

"Yes, please," replied the High Mage, much clearer and comprehensible this time.

Ryzen gave him another full cup, and the High Mage sighed appreciatively after downing the second cup in one big, grateful gulp.

"I knew you were not those damned guards. Thank you, strangers, I have not drunk water for five days," said the High Mage, his eyes no longer flashing with madness and desperation but with sagacity and calm.

Ryzen nodded sympathetically, waiting until the High Mage seemed fit to go on with a conversation.

"You are the High Mage of Frostmarch, are you not?" asked Ryzen.

"I am. I was," said the High Mage bitterly.

"You got a name, High Mage?"

"It is Dustein, kind sir. And who may you be?" asked Dustein, narrowing his eyes under the dim torch light to make out the unlikely visitors.

"Not important. We came here," paused Ryzen, glancing Garbiel before continuing, "to ask for your help in accessing certain information in the Mana Cloud."

Dustein blinked, apparently not understanding fully what was happening.

"What kind of information?" asked Dustein after a long, puzzled pause.

"I will tell you later. But can you do it right here if we gave you a chalk to draw the spell circle?"

Dustein looked around his small, filthy cell, and nodded casually.

"Drawing up spell circles is not difficult. The question is, why I should oblige with your request, a total stranger."

"I gave you drinking water."

"Yes, out of humane sentiments, I believe, and not for exchange of favors."

"Do you want something from me in return of your service," sighed Ryzen.

"I do, actually."

"Do tell."

"Get me out of here," said Dustein solemnly, almost in a whisper as if fearing the guards by the entrance could hear even the echo of his words, while clinging to the bars closer, harder.

Kisha blinked at Dustein with a rare look of pity in her eyes, while Garbiel, teary-eyed, looked pleadingly at Ryzen.

Ryzen smiled wistfully as he shook his head firmly.

"Anything else?" asked Ryzen.

Dustein blinked furiously, shaking the bars and not lowering his voice this time.

"You have to let me out. Do you know what is happening in this wretched, frozen land?"

Dustein realized that he had been too loud for his own good and shut his mouth, only to whisper emphatically afterward.

"They are plotting treason, that snake woman and the fat Protectorate, against our very own King!"

Ryzen blinked calmly even at the mention of the very same King that ordered his assassination.

"Is there a proof?" asked Ryzen, too unperturbed to Dustein's liking.

"That I am locked up in this filth is the proof. Anytime now, they will send someone to kill me. I can feel it."

Kisha looked away at the last sentence while Garbiel took a step forward and came closer to Ryzen.

"We have to save him, Ryzen," said Garbiel earnestly.

Ryzen stared at Garbiel, who seemed determined to save a fellow mage from misery, mistreatment, and death.

"If you are a subject of our King, then you know what you have to do," urged Dustein, his voice ringing with pride and patriotism.

Ryzen took his eyes off Garbiel and switched the subject all of a sudden.

"Why is someone as powerful as a High Mage locked up in a cell in such a pitiful state. Did you try to resist, at least?" asked Ryzen.

Dustein blinked at the abrupt question, but quickly the bitterness and anger took over.

"The King chose me to be the High Mage of Valforrest. Do you think our King makes a mistake?"

"The King is not Xon. He is not perfect, and yes, he is prone to making mistakes."

Such as ordering me dead, thought Ryzen.

Dustein scoffed at Ryzen.

"Unlike you, I have been in the same room with our King. And he chose me, one of the three Grand Pyromages of Alvyond, to be of service in this iceberg of a state, to bring warmth and light to the heathens who still worship owls and bears—"

Ryzen cut Dustein's heated words off with a wave.

"So you work with fire. Why not just burn your way out of here?"

"I would, if I had my staff with me. Every mage needs a staff to magick. I though this was a common knowledge even among nonmags!"

"I never saw you carrying one," said Kisha, eyeing Garbiel curiously.

"A wand suffices for me," replied Garbiel quietly.

The word 'wand' made Dustein turn sharply to Garbiel's direction.

"You are a mage too. Excellent. Now, lady, just lend me your wand for a few seconds so I can melt these bars for me to pass," said Dustein excitedly.

"But it is a weak wand. I just use it for enchanting small utensils," said Garbiel, hopeful and beaming.

"After I use it and let it channel my mana, you will be enchanting a carriage with it, my fair lady," laughed Dustein excitedly, reaching his hand out eagerly.

Just before Garbiel took out her small wand from her sack, Ryzen between her and the bars.

"Step away from him, Garbiel," said Ryzen, gently tugging Garbiel away from Dustein's reach.

Both Garbiel and Dustein stared at Ryzen. Dustein reacted first, violently and indignantly.

"You work with these northern barbarians too! You are a traitor yourself, stopping the King's mage from fulfilling his duty to the Crown!"

Instead of answering, Ryzen stepped forward, his hand on Bloodrink's hilt.

"Kisha was right. We should have just left without seeing this man."

Kisha did not say anything. But she did not seem bored anymore. She knew what was going to happen.

Garbiel, on the other hand, was still confused as to why she was not allowed to help Dustein. She saw Ryzen was drawing out the Daemonic sword and called out desperately.

"But, Ryzen, the Mana Cloud—"

"The moment we let him connect to the Mana Cloud, he is going to let others know that the Valforresters are plotting treason," said Ryzen calmly, with Bloodrink fully drawn and glistening in the moving light of the dimly lit torch.

"As rightfully as I should!" said Dustein.

"You are going to betray the King?" asked Garbiel in disbelief.

Ryzen stopped and turned to face Garbiel with a sad smile.

"For the record, he betrayed me first."

Garbiel gaped in confusion. Kisha gently pulled her back farther away from the bar, not because of the possible blood spill but to cover her eyes in case of an imminent brutal slaughter. She did not know why, but she felt this particular murder was not going to be pretty.

There was an actual emotion, not just a blind urge, in the way Ryzen held the sword this time.

Dustein looked up at Ryzen's cold face and smiled defiantly.

"So you are how I die," said Dustein, his eyes clear and purposeful,and his heart loyal, dutiful heart.

"Do you know why you die?" asked Ryzen, his hand firmly on the Daemonic sword that was eagerly anticipating fresh blood, anytime now.

"For being the Kings faithful servant," said Dustein proudly.

Ryzen shook his head, raising Bloodrink and placing it above Dustein's c.h.e.s.t.

"No. You die for annoying me."

"And who may you be, o annoyed knight?" jeered Dustein in the face of death.

Ryzen's eyes fluttered as he opened his crooked, angry mouth.

"I am Betrard Falen."

Dustein's bold smile dropped as soon as he recognized Betrard's face in Ryzen, save the hair color. His mouth hung open in shock and disbelief just as Bloodrink pierced smoothly through the c.h.e.s.t and coming out of the back. Dustein jolted, but his eyes were fixed on Ryzen's face.

"How?" wheezed Dustein, blood already rising up to the throat.

Ryzen pulled off Bloodrink roughly, squirting blood from the hold in the c.h.e.s.t only to float in the air before s.u.c.k.e.d into the dark blade as usual.

The momentum of the pulled sword made Dustein kneel hard on his knees, his face hitting the bars hard but still sitting rather than falling on his face. Dustein's shaky hands held onto the bars and lifted himself up a little so that his bloodshot eyes still looked towards Ryzen's callous face staring down.

Dustein's mouth moved again with difficulty and pain, his face muscles hardening in his last moments, to ask—the how and why—in the name of his King.

Ryzen did not allow for such a chance. He held Bloodrink upside down and thrust it into Dustein's open mouth and down his throat, moving his hands in a furious pumping motion that cut, drilled, and sliced the intestines. Dustein had stopped jolting after the first two thrusts. Blood gushed out of his mouth with every pull, soaking Ryzen's gauntlet completely. Spots of thick, mucky blood landed on Ryzen's face, distorted and wry with concentration and rage.

When Dustein's body finally fell on the ground there were more blood pouring from the irregular holes and cuts that were made from within, not from the outside.

Kisha had tactfully covered Garbiel's eyes, which were pouring tears despite not having witnessed the gory scene.

Ryzen, his hands dripping too much blood for Bloodrink to absorb right away, stood as he collected his breath and stared down at the torn, broken body on the ground.

"You will have to wash yourself before fingering me with those hands," said Kisha with faux cheeriness.

Ryzen turned, his eyes murky and his hair wet from sweat, and shook his head at Kisha. He wanted to tell her that there would be no subsequent lush of l.u.s.t this time.

He wanted to tell her that it was not Ryzen but Betrard who committed the murder, and that he wanted to cry but did not know how. Not anymore.