My blood ran cold and my eyes widened. The wand was broken, snapped in two. It was the only thing that allowed me to control my magic and, without it, the energies within me ran rampant, flooding and rushing like the waters of a wild and rapid river. My limbs flailed wildly. I felt heat and strength and power rushing from my chest, tearing into my muscles, my nerves, and my bones – cracking, bending, breaking, and burning.

I screamed – I must’ve. The pain that followed after was beyond description – beyond anything I’ve ever felt before.

The world hazed and burned and I saw only a whirling cascade of flesh and bone. My arms bestial arms flailed, bones breaking and skin ripping, spilling forth burning, hissing blood everywhere.

I screamed the whole time.

The tall trees of the forest around us stirred and moved and further coalesced into the lumbering mass of bark and blood and bone that now lumbered into awakening, surrounded by a small lake of boiling water, likely the snow that’d melted in its formation. The trees gathered into each other, until something that could vaguely be described as a head took shape, misshapen and otherworldly; its maw was wide and massive, a cavernous mass, filled with jagged teeth. Beyond it was a throat that seemed to suck in all the lights and colors of the frozen world around us. Its eyes were like coals, blazing and smoldering crimson, hissing and smoking. From its nostrils came forth wisps of dark grey ashes that caused the snow to melt and steam.

The rest of its body, however, was a misshapen horror of twisted trees and gnarled flesh and broken bones. Just looking at its mass was painful.

It roared, unleashing a ghastly sound that was staggeringly unpleasant, and the frozen world seemed to shake.

Olga leapt back, multi-colored flames raging around her as her eyes widened. I fell to a knee and lurched forward, a stream of blood oozing from my mouth. My body shimmered silver-black and the dark scales that grew over my skin seemed to sing. I tried to speak, but my throat was hoarse and raw and I wasn’t sure if I still had a tongue at all.

“Focus!” Olga screamed at me. Her voice was frantic and her eyes were filled with fear, even as her rainbow flames raged around her. And yet, she was crying. Her tears hissed and fell like liquid fire. “Do not let the pain control you! Feel it and let it go! Reach inwards and communicate with your magic! Apologize for what you did; strike a bargain. You must take control, Uriel!”

I could only nod dumbly as I lost all control of my body and fell face-first into the snow, blood frothing from my nose and mouth. And then the world turned black – darker than the night, darker than the void between the stars. And, suddenly, all the pain that’d gathered within me disappeared and all was silent and serene – no sound, only a melancholic quiet that seemed to stretch on forever.

I opened my eyes, but I had no eyes.

My limbs were gone. My body was gone.

I existed in and out, floating in a great sea of nothing.

I was nothing.

There was no pain, no anger, no stupid school, and no stupid teachers; it was just me and an endless silence that stretched on forever.

I breathed in, despite the lack of air and smiled. It was peaceful here. And I wished things would stay like this. But I knew this moment of reprieve wouldn’t last. I was in hell, disguised as a school. Would that make me a demon? Probably; though, I figured it hardly mattered. I’d taken a sip of the proverbial cup, immersed myself in a sea of blood. If I was in hell, then I would become the most powerful demon. In the Shadow Academy, that meant I would become the most powerful Dark Mage – so powerful that things like this would never happen to me ever again. No one would dare try to hurt me or test me.

Despite the lack of anything, I found myself moving adrift in the darkness, pulled by invisible strings and ushered forth by unseen limbs.

And then, in the distance, a blazing red star, pulsating with energies; there was a smell to this place, I noted, in this void. It was the scent of flesh, the acrid stench of blood, and the putrid effluvia of rotting bone. I knew, in an instant, that the distant star was my magic, unbound by the shackles I’d once placed on it with the wand I wielded. And the smell in the great black void was the smell of my magic, the smell of the energies I controlled.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

I reached out to my magic, to the star that burned alone in the void. It was angry, it was vengeful, and it was hurting. Arcane scars marred its form, remnants of the dark binds that’d once held it down and forced it do my bidding. When I somehow touched it with hands that weren’t there, the star recoiled and retreated further into the void; I followed after it.

Olga was right. I needed to make amends.

I’d decided too quickly and too rashly; I didn’t even stop to consider the possibility of simply working together with my magic, without the need for a wand, without the need for chains and whips and pain. I should’ve reached out to it and learned to use it properly. I should’ve taken the time to use the resources that were available to me, instead of flailing about in the dark as I’d done instead. But, in my defense, I was scared for my life and the quickest and easiest solution was the most attractive.

“I’m sorry,” I said. And I meant it. I should’ve done better. I should’ve been better. I may have burned the bridge between my magic and I with the wand, but I’d be damned if I didn’t build a new one. It’d make things a lot harder for me in the future, but all my fellow Neophytes were hardly even capable of controlling their own powers; and none of them hated me, as far as I knew. Death lurked in every corner, but I knew not to be afraid of the other Neophytes – not yet, at least. And that meant I had time. I had time to learn to harness my magic properly; Lady Victoria, and any of the Dark Lords, didn’t seem to need a wand. I wouldn’t be getting anywhere near their level of power if I relied too much on a crutch.

The crimson star did not stop; it simply continued onwards, deeper and deeper into the void. The passage of time did not register to me – hours, maybe even days, passed until we reached a place that was not all darkness. There were strange and nebulous clouds of dark shades of red and grey and purple, and floating island-platforms of black stone. There, the star stopped, surrounded by all the alien things that seemed adrift in the darkness.

The platforms and the dark clouds surrounded its blazing form.

“What is this place?” I muttered. Of course, I wasn’t expecting an answer. I was the only one here.

And so, it came as an absolute surprise when someone did answer. “This is your inner-world, Uriel; at least, this is what it will become if you hadn’t broken that wand of yours. It would’ve prevented our Apotheosis.”

The voice came from everywhere and nowhere all at once. It took a moment for me to realize that it came from the blazing star. “What?”

“You chained me, Uriel; you drew from my power as a man might draw water from a well,” The voice said again. Its tone was neutral, but its words belied the rage I felt from it. “But, I understand; you knew nothing, understood nothing, and were afraid of death. And, in your fear, you hurt me and cast me away like I was nothing.”

Huh, my magic could talk? And, this whole time, I’d been treating it as though it was some kind of animal. That was another mistake - one of many, it seemed.

I sighed and nodded. “I’m sorry… I… I didn’t know what else to do. I thought I’d die if I took things slowly. But, you weren’t listening to me; you didn’t do what I needed you to do and that would’ve gotten me in trouble – or killed outright.”

“I know,” The voice said. “That’s precisely why I’m giving you a second chance. It’s not as though we could be enemies if I tried – I’m as much a part of you as you are a part of me. You and I are one.”

“Then, why don’t you listen to me when I want you to do something specific?” I pushed. None of this would’ve happened – the wand would not have been necessary – if my own magic just listened to me.

“Because I couldn’t hear you, Uriel,” My magic told me. “All I receive from you are flashes of intent and a vague idea of what you might want. You haven’t really tried to speak with me in any meaningful way. And you must be the one to cross the bridge first, the one to open the path for the both of us.”

I nodded. My magic was right; I never really tried my best. I simply followed Baba Yaga’s instructions and stuck with it, not bothering to experiment. Then again, I never really got the chance, did I? Everything happened so quickly that time seemed to blur as it moved forward. “How do I do that?”

The voice snorted, “It seems, Uriel, that in your dying moment of desperation, you already have.”

My eyes widened. “I’m dying?”

“Yes, the rampant energies that were coursing through your body, shifting and altering your flesh, fried every nerve and killed every cell; all your internal organs have shut down and the last vestiges of your consciousness held onto the final embers of your brain, leading to where we are now. You were dying, Uriel, but no longer,” My magic said. “Do not waste the second chance I have granted you… partner. Now, you should wake up; your friend needs your help.”

My eyes snapped open to see Olga right above me, panting and groaning as she held me by the hand and dragged me across the cold realm. Her face was dirty and ragged, and marred by frozen tears that ran under her eyes. Her lips were red and bleeding slightly. She sported several open wounds and gashes across her robes, revealing her light skin and crimson, bloody flesh.

And then, our eyes met, and she stopped. Her eyes watered as she spoke, “Uriel… you’re back.”

Behind her, the forest moved.