Chapter 7: Vision

    Deklos held the spell as long as he could, knowing full well the potential for destruction that his spell held should it go out of control.  It was only a little energy, but... holding it together when the conflicting elements of the spell continually pushed apart was an excruciating task.  In a last ditch effort to control the spell, the archwizard cast the energy toward the target early.  He tried to finish merging the energies and focus them completely while they were in flight, but this too caused problems.  The closer the energies came together, the greater strain on his mind as he tried to fully merge the energies.  Finally, the ball of energy was completely merged, and Deklos began to relax his hold on the spell.  The energies expanded as planned, but soon the archwizard found himself unable to contain the expansion of the spell in order to localize it.  The strain on Deklos' mind returned, and grew ever more powerful as he tried with all his strength to contain the spell and keep it from going out of control.  He failed, though, since his mind faltered under the pressure of controlling such wild energies.  The last thing Deklos felt was falling to the ground as the world faded away.

* * *
    Deklos snapped his eyes open.  He was in his apartment, in his own bed.  He looked at the window, and saw the bright glow pouring in.  For some reason, the daytime light was much brighter today.  The archwizard shrugged this off and set about getting himself dressed.  He pulled one of his blue robes from the closet, put it on, and slowly walked across the floor to the kitchen.

    'The experiment...it must have been just a dream,' Deklos thought, 'What else could it have been?  I certainly don't go about testing experimental combat spells every day.  Oh well, may as well start the day with some breakfast...'

    Deklos pulled some dried leaves from a jar in his kitchen, and put them into a small metal ball with holes in it.  He closed the ball up, and put it into a tea pot.  Then he walked to the front door, opened it, and retrieved the bottles of water that had been dropped off earlier that morning.  These were taken to the kitchen, and there Deklos poured some of this water into a kettle.  He started up the stove with a very weak fire spell, and put the water on to boil.  While he waited for the water to boil, he walked back to his desk and picked up a book to read while he ate his breakfast.  He carried the book back to the table, grabbed a piece of fruit from the basket on the table, and sat down to eat his fruit and read his book.

    He looked at the book he had picked up.  It was titled "Mages of Legend" and appeared to be a collection of biographies about famous spell casters in the Dark Lands.  When he opened the book up, though, it was unreadable.  The characters on the pages were unlike any that he recognized.  He shrugged, closed the book, and set it on the table.

    'It must be in a really old version of our language, or maybe its from the age of the Great War.  I must have grabbed it from the library so that I can ask one of the linguistics professors to translate it for me later..."

    The kettle whistled, breaking Deklos' train of thought.  He cast a quick water spell on the stove to douse the flame, took the kettle off the stove, and poured the hot water into the tea pot.  He put the lid on the tea pot, and let it sit for a while to brew.  He walked over to the book shelf, picked up a book on magic theory, and sat down to read while his tea brewed.  A few minutes later, Deklos got up again, walked back to the tea pot, and poured himself a hot cup of tea.  He returned to his book, and read it while sipping his tea.

    When he had finished his tea, Deklos got up and returned the book to its shelf, only to find that it was already on the shelf, and the book in his hand was suddenly about history.  Thinking about the oddness of this, Deklos walked to a different part of the bookshelf to replace the book.  He found an empty spot where the book would fit, and reached up to put it on the shelf.  As he replaced the book, he noticed that his hand was semi-transparent.  Startled, Deklos looked at his feet, only to find that they too were becoming transparent.  He ran to the bathroom, and looked in the mirror there.  To his surprise, he had no reflection.  Deklos fled his apartment and ran outside to the street.

    Outside, Deklos saw people walking down the unusually bright street, going about their everyday business.  Most of them wore clothes of brighter colors, very similar to the traditional garments worn on holidays.  The most noticeable thing about these people, however, is how much they interacted with each other.  It seemed like everyone was especially social today, even those that Deklos recognized and knew to be rather antisocial.  Deklos walked out onto the street himself, intent on figuring out what was going on today.

    "Excuse me," Deklos said in an attempt to strike up a conversation with one of these exceptionally talkative people.  The person he spoke to, however, ignored Deklos and even acted like Deklos wasn't even there.  Deklos, offended by being ignored, decided to try to talk to someone else.

    "Pardon me..."

    Again, Deklos was completely ignored.  The people around him all were ignoring him, as though he were subhuman or perhaps did not even exist.  They just continued to go their way, dressed in their bright clothing, chatting merrily with almost everyone else...except Deklos.  He looked down at the street, and caught a glimpse of his feet.  They were much more than partially transparent now, in fact at first glance Deklos thought he was looking at someone's shadow.  He held his hand out in front of him and looked at his palm.  It, too, seemed to be merely a shadow, only noticeable at all when surrounded by bright light.  Screaming in terror and despair, Deklos retreated from the light of the street to the darkness of the back alleys.  There, at least, he would not have to see all the other people and become ever more away of his own dullness.

* * *
    "Doctor, how is he?"  The dean of the university asked the doctor.

    "Oh, still sleeping.  That accident must have been an incredible strain on his mind.  He might wake up today, or he might wake up years from now.  All we can do now is keep him alive and let his body heal itself."

    The administrator walked over to the bed where Deklos lay asleep.  "A shame that he had to ruin himself with that stupid experiment," he muttered, "that man was our best teacher of applied magic and one of the most talented archwizards of combat magic that I've seen.  About time to find a replacement, I guess.  Can't operate the university without someone to teach applied magic..."

    The doctor and the dean left the room, turning out the light before they closed the door.  Darkness fell.

* * *
    Deklos continued to lurk in the shadows.  He did not know how long he had been here, nor did he remember precisely why he had come here.  All he knew was that it was comfortable in the shadows, so returning to the brightly lit streets would probably bring only pain since they were so different than the shadows.  Here in the darkness of the shadows of the great city, Deklos could live without fear of the light, without being ignored or rejected by the colorful people who lived in the light.  He did not do much in these dark places, but he could wander and sleep all he wanted.

    As he wandered though the shadows, Deklos became aware of others like himself who lived here.  They, too, did not appear to have a real body, only a featureless outline, like the shadow of one of the people in the street.  Not one of them interacted with the others, and neither did Deklos interact with any of them.  After all, the people in the street had rejected him so long ago, so why should the people in the alley welcome him?  So Deklos continued to survive in the alleys as a shadow in the shadows.

    As he wandered, however, one of his feet (if indeed shadows had feet) caught on the ground, and Deklos fell on his face as he tried to take another step.  He fell for what seemed to be an eternity before his face finally smashed into ground.  Deklos again became aware of the existence of pain.  He tried to escape the pain and rejection of the light by retreating into the alleys, now only to find pain and rejection in the shadows as well.

    The fallen archwizard got up, and found himself no longer in the alleys, but on a dimly lit plain.  His body was no longer purely shadow, but now was merely semi-transparent.  He looked around, but saw nothing in the dim light but more of the endless plain.  Grey rocks covered the ground, and there were no plants.  Here in this barren place, only Deklos existed, and even he merely partially existed.  He knew that it was futile to simply sit here and wait for something to happen, so Deklos wandered in a direction he somehow knew to be east.

    The plain stretched out forever, not a single object marring the perfection of this desolation.  But then Deklos heard something...it was like the wind, but had a quality to it that made it like a voice.  This wind-voice did not say anything that he could recognize, but seemed to come from the north.  Deklos turned north to see the source of the wind-voice, and found a person.  He was not tall, but neither was he short.  He was dressed in a white tunic, and had silver hair.  On his back were white wings, but they were not leathery like those of a bat.  Rather, his wings seemed to be made of layer upon layer of something white and soft.  In one hand the man held a halberd, in the other he bore a ball of bright light.

    As Deklos saw this man, he heard another wind-voice, much different from the first one.  This wind-voice came from the south, and sounded lower and harsher.  Deklos turned to see the source of this voice, and found what seemed to be the antithesis of the man to the north.  He was exceptionally tall, and wore a long black robe that covered almost all of his body.  In one hand, he bore a staff, and in the other a sphere of pulsing dark energy.  Both this man and the man in white seemed to be exceptionally powerful, yet starkly contrasted each other in both appearance and attitude.  Standing between the two, Deklos thought that they seemed as though they were champions come to do battle on this lifeless plain.

    The Dark Champion, as Deklos now thought of him, saw Deklos and called out to him, dropping his weapon and stretching forth a hand of friendship.  From behind him, Deklos heard the Light Champion call to him seemingly seeking friendship as well.  For a few moments, silence engulfed the plain.  Deklos did not want to accept the friendship of either of them, for to do so would make an enemy of the one he spurned the friendship of.  Seeing that Deklos refused to accept his friendship, the Dark Champion lifted his other hand, but this time to destroy with darkness.  Deklos spun around to seek the aid of the Light Champion, but this man now desired Deklos' destruction as well.  Light magic came from the north and dark magic from the south.  The magics collided with Deklos, and a split second later began to mix.  Sharp searing pain pierced Deklos' half-real body, and wave upon wave of agony swept across his mind.  As the magics mixed into a fusion spell, Deklos thought he felt his body being pulled apart by the incredible energies of the spell apart.  Then all faded away in a chaotic swirl of black and white.

    When Deklos became aware once again, he was face down in the shadowy alley.  He got up, and somehow knew that his body was that of a shadow again.  The light had rejected him, the shadows ignored him, and now the dim plain of mixed light and shadow had tried to destroy him for not choosing to befriend either the light or the dark.  So now he became once again engulfed the featureless shadows, wandering eternally until he made a choice between the light and the dark.  And so he wandered, refusing to embrace either the searing light of reality or the comfortable shadows of illusion.  By this very refusal to make a choice, he somehow condemned himself to abide forever in the shadows of illusion as an outsider.

    Shadow gave way to more shadows, and all feeling wore away until Deklos could not tell the difference between standing still and wandering.  It was then that darkness completely engulfed him, and Deklos knew no more for a time.

* * *
    "Any progress, doctor?"

    "No, Tierth," the doctor responded, "He's still stable, which is good news.  However, nothing we've been able to do has improved his condition.  At this rate, we have no idea if he'll ever wake up again."

    Professor Valen merely looked down at the body of his fallen friend.  He looked so weak and helpless in this sterile hospital room.  Emotion welled up inside of the theorist, and tears fell.

    "I'm sorry, Deklos," Tierth half-whispered, "If only I hadn't explained the theory of fusion magic, this wouldn't have happened.  I knew that no one's ever cast such a spell without coming out seriously hurt.  I'm so sorry..."

    The doctor merely waited patiently as the archwizard grieved over both his fallen friend and his own mistakes.

* * *
    The absolute darkness had swallowed Deklos whole.  As he became aware once more, the archwizard at first looked around in confusion.  His eyes did not seem to work any more.  He opened his eyes and saw nothing.  He closed his eyes and saw nothing.  Then the fallen mage listened.  He heard nothing, for there was nothing to be heard.  The archwizard known as Deklos was alone in a world without light or sound.  He stood up, and began to wander.  As he wandered, Deklos realized that he indeed felt nothing either.  He could not feel the clothes against his skin, nor the ground against his feet.  In this place, there was no feeling, no hearing, and no sight.  Deklos tried to scream into the darkness, yet could not feel the sound come out of his throat or hear the shriek in his ears.

    Somehow, sounds invaded the darkness.  At first, Deklos thought he was going insane from sensory deprivation, but as the sounds became more pronounced, he got up and tried to follow the sounds.  These faint sounds became a cacophony of voices ringing in his ears, and these in turn became clear voices as Deklos tracked them down to their source.  When he could finally hear the voices clearly, he looked around and felt for the presence of another person, yet could not find anything in this world of absolute darkness and hopelessness.

    The first voice he heard was a warm and kind male voice.

    "Don't worry about leaving here, Deklos, we're going to a new home soon.  There will be other children like you there.  We can come back here later to visit when you've grown up some more..."

    The voice trailed off into the distance.  For some reason, the voice was very familiar, yet Deklos could not remember at all who the voice belonged to.  Then, another voice filled the darkness, an anguished voice of a woman.

    "I'm so sorry, Deklos.  I didn't know that they'd do this to us.  They'll come to take me away soon, but I'll look out for you for as long as I still can..."

    As this voice disappeared, nothingness was the loudest sound to be heard for the longest time.  Then other voices filled the darkness, a collection of voices both angry and hateful.

    "You son of traitors.  Why didn't they kill you?  I guess we'll do the job ourselves if you don't get out of here now."

    "Get out of here, go back to your vampire masters.  I'll bet you just came here to suck our blood during the night.  Leave now or we'll make sure you can never suck blood again."

    "Demon's spawn.  Why don't you just die so that we can live in peace?"

    Deklos knew that he was in tears now, though he could not feel them.  Pain, fear, loathing, and loneliness filled his empty heart, and the despised one wept silently in the absolute darkness.  As he recoiled in terror from the voices, they became weaker and fainter.

    "Please die."

    "Monster."

    "Vampire-child."

    "Demon."

    "Traitor's son."

    "Traitor."

    The voices completely disappeared, but Deklos simply sat where he was.  Loneliness and pain engulfed him in an eternity of sorrow.  His awareness began to blur together until the only sensation left was the dull throbbing of pain in his heart.  This was all that was left for him to know in the darkness, so he let the darkness completely consume him and extinguish his awareness.  The darkness consumed all that remained of the fallen archwizard.

* * *
    The darkness started to give way, and light crept in.  Light and shadow once again came together, but stood separate from each other.  In the place between the shining light and the absolute shadow, Deklos awoke.  He was lying down in a bed in a room that was mostly dark.  A small ray of light crept in through a partially opened door, and banished the shadows from the small area that it occupied.  The room was unnaturally clean, and smelled as though chemicals were used to accomplish such a thing.  He knew that this was not his apartment, and neither was it the streets nor the alleys.  So he sat and waited for someone to come.

    After what seemed to be an eternity of lying between the light and the darkness, the door opened, allowing much more light into the room.  A man walked in, and activated a artifact.  Light shone from the artifact, and the shadows of illusion were now totally banished.  Deklos found himself engulfed in the shining light of reality.  The man wore a faded white robe.  He walked over to Deklos and began to speak.

    "Welcome back to the land of the living, professor.  You've been asleep for months."