:: Emilia Blum ::
Emilia stared, vision blurred by tears, at the young man lying peacefully in bed. He was covered by a patchwork quilt, only his pale face and light green hair visible. Emilia leaned forward, wiping beads of sweat from his feverish brow as the boy mumbled something incomprehensible. Her firstborn son had been like this for nearly two weeks; the healers had given up, and the priests had brought up final rites before her husband threw them out days ago.
“Matthias… why don’t you wake up?” she said, fresh tears blurring her vision even further until she could only see an outline of her beloved son.
<
Emilia continued to wipe her son’s forehead with a damp towel, begging the gods to open his emerald-green eyes again, begging them to let her see his smile and hear his voice again.
:: Matthias Blum ::
The last thing he remembered was his 13th birthday.
It was a great day. His father and mother had come with him to the temple of life, where he and the other children coming of age this month were recognized. He was even offered not one, but two apprenticeships. Both the priests and healers wanted him! It was truly the best day of his life. After the ceremony, he didn’t remember much. He was outside the temple with his family accepting people’s congratulations when suddenly it became very, very hot. Even when he stood in front of the oven he had never been so hot before.
After everything went hot his memories came in flashes. He couldn’t really make anything out, except the look on his mother’s face. He couldn’t remember her ever crying, except when his grandfather died, but in every memory since the heat came, there were tears in her eyes.
“Is someone dying? Wait… is father OK? Why didn’t I see him?” he said.
“Your dad is fine, kid… you probably didn’t see him because he was out looking for someone who could heal you.”
It was a man’s voice. A voice he didn’t recognize. That’s when he realized he was in a wide open space, white as far as the eye could see. There was a man in front of him, he looked about the same age as Matthias’ parents, but more like a noble than a commoner. There was something weird about him, though. He had dark brown hair, which should mean he didn’t have any magical affinity-- but his eyes were gray, which should mean the opposite. And, anyway, all nobles had at least one affinity!
“Hey, Mister. Are you a noble?” he said.
“No kid, I’m just a regular guy.”
“But, um, Sir, you have such nice clothes. I’ve never seen anything like them. And you’re so… healthy-- you have to be a noble, right?”
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“Kid… did you just call me fat?”
Matthias stiffened up at the question, before looking around the empty space.
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“Hey, Mister, where are we?” Matthias said.
The man stood still for a long moment, staring at Matthias and running a hand awkwardly through his own short hair, before he sighed, seeming to deflate in the process.
“I’m not going to lie, or try to sugar coat this for you: you’re dying. You developed some kind of fever, and you just weren’t strong enough to fight it off. Well, that’s what I was told, anyway.” said the man, an awkward smile on his face.
<
Matthias felt like there was something in his eyes. He tried to wipe it away, but no matter how much he tried there was always more. Something wet was in his eyes, blurring everything, leaving a trail down his cheeks.
<
“Hey-- Hey, kid. Don’t cry, look, I was told that you’ll be reborn. You’ll have a much better life this time around, so just stop crying already, alright? I can’t handle kids crying!”
“B-better? What do you mean, ‘better’? I have a great life! I have a great family! THINGS WERE GREAT!” said Matthias, “I don’t care about that stuff! What about my family? They’re going to be so sad-- what about my mother?”
The man’s expression contorted, shifting from a awkward smile, to a frown, and back again multiple times before he finally replied.
“This is kind of… weird… probably. I am going to take your body. I have a mission in your world, so I’ll take your body.” he said.
“BUT WHAT ABOUT MY MOTHER?”
“I’ll make sure she’s alright.” said the man, “I’ll take care of your family, alright? You can trust me, kid. I was a Boy Scout.”
He smiled earnestly at Matthias, as if trusting him should be the most obvious thing in the world. Oddly, it seemed like it really was the obvious thing to do.
<
Matthias clenched his fists, willing himself to stop shaking. At the same time, his eyes cleared up, the only evidence his damp cheeks and puffy eyelids. He squared his shoulders and spoke, a slight tremor in his voice.
“Alright. It’s a deal, then. You have to protect my family. Gods have to keep their bargains, right?”
The man’s expression grew even stranger, and time seemed to stretch on as endless as the space they were in.
“You’re right, gods have to keep their bargains. It’s a deal, kid. No. It’s a deal, Matthias. I’ll take care of your family. That’s a promise.” he said, holding out a hand.
Matthias stared at the man’s hand, then his expectant face, before reaching out his own small hand. As his hand was engulfed by the man’s, he felt warmth spread throughout his body. It wasn’t hot and painful like the fever.
It reminded Matthias of his mother’s hug, that last birthday in front of the temple.
:: Emilia Blum ::
Emilia woke with a start. She was hot. No, it was hot. It felt like she was standing in front of a bonfire. And it was bright.
<
She rubbed the dried tears from her eyes and stared, dumbfounded. The heat and the light were both coming from her bedridden son. Her son, who hadn’t opened his eyes or spoken, much less used magic, was radiating a clean, white light and immense heat. She reached out a hand, trying to touch him-- she just wanted him to know she was there, whatever was going on.
Fresh tears bloomed in her eyes, this time from pain. There was a pressure coming off him, keeping her from getting any closer, and she could see her skin begin to redden and crack from the heat. She kept pushing forward.
<
“Matti! Matthias, I’m here. Mama’s here!”
In an instant, the pressure multiplied and she heard a sickening crack as her arm bent in the wrong direction. The quilt flew off, and she found herself flying through the air. All she could see was her son, engulfed in a storm of magical power the color of snow. She heard something disgusting, like meat being tenderized, before everything began to fade to black.
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