Chapter 4: The Insufferable Mary Sue, part 3

The entire planet went crazy over the death of the Magic Academy headmaster.

Looking at the crime scene, people suspected a murder. Yet there was no evidence to support the theory. The only other Mana signature that could be found was that of a Level Three mage at best.

How could a great Level Five wizard lose to someone two ranks lower? It just doesn’t add up.

The DNA sample that could be found also doesn’t match any known criminal, or anyone at all in the database.

A complete phantom.

And how did he do it?

A broken metal pipe? A rusty fruit knife?

Fuck off! They're clearly left there as a joke! An insult to every mage on the planet!

When the autopsy came back that the great wizard simply died of a stroke. The question became which asshole found his body and decided to defile it for their amusement. Creating a fake murder scene to rile everyone up into a wild goose chase.

In the end, the case was closed as nothing more than an unfortunate natural death. And the prankster was never caught.

If only they knew how wrong their conclusions were.

If only they knew, what I know.

To know too much is a burden. Is a sin.

To live in ignorance is the only bliss us mortals could hope to obtain.

After that night, I did what the Devil had commanded and lived life like always.

But it's hard, all so very hard to not break character in front of him. I can’t even make eye contact, in fear of my souls being sucked into those horrible amber eyes.

The eyes of a King.

The public was right about one thing, that wizard wasn’t murdered. He committed suicide.

The King commanded and his subject obeyed.

He simply asked the wizard to die, therefore he did.

There were no spells, no mystical forces involved.

Only his ‘Intent.’

And what is Intent?

Intent is a will that all objects contain, alive or dead.

Trees seek the sun, water wants to travel downwards, birds dream of flight, the moon desires her companion. Even dirt intended to ‘be.’

That is why we humans cannot manipulate the world around us without Mana.

If we try to cut down a tree, our hands would bleed and our bodies would be knocked back. For the tree wishes to live, and it would use its Mana to protect itself.

All things possessed Intent. All things possessed Mana. That is the law of this universe.

But He… he didn’t have Mana, not a sliver.

Cripples like him shouldn’t be able to live at all for the world around would reject his desires.

He shouldn’t be able to scrub floors or cut firewood or kill a fly. But he intended to do so, therefore he did.

The rules of the universe simply bent to his unyielding will.

It is not some secret technique, but a parlor trick. Every person had tried to assert their will to manipulate objects around them at least once.

In fact, moving small objects without Mana is one of the curriculum wizards are taught.

But it's hard, it's all so very hard.

To overrule someone else’s Intent and make them bend to your will, requires great concentration and self belief.

To Lord over others, as if they are your limbs.

To take someone else’s Mana and make them yours.

To tell someone else to die, because you simply wish them to.

But that’s what he does, each and every day.

That man never doubted that he could cut wood, so the wood simply split themselves apart just as their new master had commanded. Same goes for many other things.

Back in the day, I would watch in awe as he manipulated the chess pieces to dance to his tunes for hours on end.

The other kids didn’t realize just how great of a feat that was, even I, didn’t fully grasp its significance until years later.

A King commands. A Slave obeys.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

All above and down below, are his royal subjects.

When he trains in the field, the earth would stand firm to support his steps. The air would ease his path. The clouds would part to give him light. And the Moon… She adores him. She admires him.

And his sword.

His hand-crafted wooden sword.

I fear it.

I’m terrified of it!

The Devil’s blade that seeks to strike, to kill, to achieve… perfection.

Never in my life, had I seen an object of such great Intent. Whenever I lay eyes on the damn thing, it's like a black hole pulling me in.

It’s alive. Filled with Intent. Filled with Mana.

And it wants me!

It wants me. To achieve perfection.

My body, my powers, would become fuel to feed its flames. It would become all consuming, killing my soul in the process.

All to better serve its creator.

And yet knowing that… I am drawn to watching that man train.

His figure, his stances, his strikes, are beautiful.

His body has changed. No more was he a lanky boy, but a grown man.

His shoulders widened. His arms thicken. His chest filled out. His legs, strong and firm. His face, no longer a skull.

That man becomes ever more beautiful with each passing day. It's only natural, for he is the Devil. To be alluring, was by design.

He tempts me.

I know he does.

He and his sword are the same. Luring me ever closer, even if I wanted to run away to the furthest reaches of space.

Every night, the pull becomes stronger. I’ve tried to resist! God knows I’ve tried!

But I can no longer stop myself from moving closer to him, like a moth drawn to flame.

I tried to fly away but I couldn’t! The second I stepped into his domain, my fate was sealed.

The man approached me with amusement in his eyes.

At that moment I somehow gathered enough courage to ask him.

Why!?

Why are you doing this to me!?

How many years have you been tormenting me!?

Is it not enough!?

Haven’t I suffered enough!?

Please, please let me go!!! For the love of God, just let me go!!!

I phrase those words in a way that wouldn’t break character, else risk his wrath.

The man stared right at me with his mysterious amber eyes. Before giving me an answer I wish I had never heard.

I was his outlet!

I’m not just a pet, but his Goddamn outlet!

Fuck me! Fuck my life! Fuck God! And fuck you too!

My hope of ever escaping, squandered.

The man laughed devilishly at my abject horror before offering me… the Devil’s sword.

At that moment, everything clicked.

The reason he raised me. The reason he gave me knowledge. The reason he had kept me fed and safe for all these years. Was so I could become his royal subject, his little follower.

At that moment I had two options

I could take the sword into my hands and have my will be overwritten. My sense of self loss. My life, dedicated only to his will. I would become his perfect killing machine. And I would be happy.

But if I refuse, being an outlet, I won’t be given a clean death.

What do I do!? What could I do!!? Think bitch, think!!!

A third option! That’s right, I could carve out my own path! Rather than being forcefully taken over, I could just dedicate my life to him with my own free will!

I turned away from the evil sword and quickly made my own weapon.

I covered the blade with my Mana in a pathetic attempt to block his Intent from taking it over. I knew it was useless, given that the man could overrule a high level wizard, but what else could I do? I’ve gotta try something!

Once the sword was in my hand, I quickly swung it around as best I could to prove to him that I was valuable just the way I am.

I tried to replicate the moves I had seen him do, but it was like a sad copy of a copy. My posture was awkward. There was no strength behind my moves. My strikes were like a kid swinging sticks.

I glanced back at the man to see a look of disappointment in his eyes.

Those hateful eyes, they’re disappointed in me!

Oh, no no no! What the fuck am I going to do!?

Think bitch think!!! Think!!! Think!!!

I… I… I don’t know anymore. I can’t… I… I…

I want to cry.

I want to drop down to the ground and just cry my eyes out.

Would he pity me?

He has raised me for so long, he must have a sliver of care in that big black heart of his, right? Right!?

No. No, he wouldn’t.

He may wear the mask of a caring big brother, but I had seen his true face. I’m the only one who knows what’s lurking beneath that smile.

In front of the grim reaper, I only have my own two hands to rely upon.

So I went up to that man, and asked…

To become his disciple.

The Devil gave me a devilish grin… and laughed. He laughed so hard tears came out.

Looking at his reaction, I realized. I was simply dancing to his tune from the very beginning.

A pet.

An actress.

An outlet.

A disciple.

A chess piece.

All am I, and I am they.

But above it all… I am afraid.

Not for my own safety, but for the rest of the universe. Even right now, they are blissfully unaware.

Oh, how I envy them.

***

I fear him.

I fear his eyes.

I fear the way he walks, talks, and acts. I fear everything about him.

That man.

That frightful man

That frightening man.

No, as I had come to learn, he is no man at all, never was.

My big brother… nay, my big sister…

Marianne.

Praise be her name. May she ever be merciful.

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