Much as I was loath to admit it, he was right. I had been ignoring clear evidence of my ability to change the reality of Ferrum. I had saved Eadric’s life, and that was already having minor effects on the timeline. Melissa would have been dead as well if not for my healing magic, and I could not know how her still being alive would change how events would turn out.
I was just looking for an excuse to give up. When I saw the power of the Red Knight, when I saw how easily he overpowered the Talent that I had come to rely upon so much, I was struck all at once by the enormity of the task before me. Now that my senses had been shocked back into me, I knew that my task was possible. The small changes I had made up to that point proved that, if I went about the challenge piece by piece, I could do it.
Just making the plan could take years, and completing it would take even longer, but I was sure I could do it. I would have to take it one step at a time. It would be good to have some intermediate goals that I could hit before hitting my goal of “Kill a God.”
I breathed sharply in through my nose and rose to my feet. With my eyes on the horizon, I formed the two intermediate goals I would start shooting for.
Stop the Etronian civil war.
Kill the Red Knight.
I produced my journal from my coat pocket and wrote those two lines down in large, angry letters.
You’re back, good.
The voice in my head sounded pleased. There was a strange tint to the voice that I had not heard before. If I didn’t know any better, I would think that the voice was filled with good-will and charity. It was as if the original felt some kind of “empathy” toward me and was happy that I was doing well mentally.
Thank you. I have to ask, though, why did you help me? Wouldn’t it have been easier to take control when I was catatonic?
I have two reasons. One, I’ve been able to see through your eyes ever since I woke up a few months ago. Over the past week, you’ve been doing nothing but pout in your room. It was boring. Two, your emotions affect me. I’ve been suffused with an insufferable malaise ever since you started feeling bad for yourself. I was tied to an anchor that was sinking into the ocean’s darkest fathom.
That’s a very apt metaphor. We truly are tied together, one way or another.
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Since my consciousness seems to be holding together pretty well this time. I’ll ask you a question. What are you? You seem to have knowledge of the future like me, but your knowledge of magic is elementary at best.
That question has a complicated answer. Let’s just say that I’m a person from another world, and I know broadly what is going to happen in Ferrum until the year 640 CA. Now you tell me about yourself. How did you end up in my head?
You already know the truth, don’t you? I am Count Thale Feldrast from the year 635 CA. I placed a magical contingency upon myself so that, upon my death, my consciousness would return to my body immediately after my birth. Clearly, something went wrong. My consciousness must have been damaged during the transfer, and there was already an interloper when I arrived.
Sorry about that. I really have no idea why I’m in this body. Last thing I knew, I was dying in a world without magic, and now I’m here.
A world without magic… huh… That sure would be strange.
The original’s voice started to falter as it always did a few seconds before his voice faded away. I knew that he would fall back to sleep in a moment.
We’ll talk… again. Try not to bore me…
With that, the original’s voice faded into the darkness of my mind.
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Minutes later, I was walking through the hallways of Northwind Castle, leaning heavily on my cane. I passed by several shocked maids, butlers, and craftsmen who had never seen me before. Navigating the castle was quite easy for me, since I had cleared out Thale’s dungeon three times. Soon, I turned a corner and entered the grand library that took up most of the second floor.
Now inside the library, I looked around. As I turned my head, I saw the man I was looking for: Beltane. There was an old saying in [Ferrum Online]: if you need to find a mage, check the nearest library.
Beltane was sitting at a table. He held a book written in Elvish in his right hand, and he occasionally flexed the fingers of his left. I could tell that the removal and reattachment of that hand had left some discomfort.
“Beltane,” I interrupted his reading before he got a chance to look up. “How long will it take me to become strong enough to kill the Red Knight?”
The War Mage jumped in his chair upon my interjection. My small stature made it hard for him to see me, and he had certainly not expected me to walk up and talk to him like that.
“Uh,” Beltane’s gears turned for a few seconds before he gave an answer. “The Red Knight?” the shocked look on his face turned into a relieved smile. “So, you’ve decided to seek revenge for your mother. Well, there are better coping mechanisms, but revenge is certainly better than giving up.”
“How long will it take?” I repeated my question. My red eyes did not falter.
“In your case, being a Fighter would certainly be off the table. To defeat a Sword Saint by yourself,” Beltane thought for a moment, “you’d have to become a Philosopher, a generation-defining mage who has mastered at least five schools of magic. That’s two steps above me, a lowly war mage. For a prodigy like you, you might be able to make it in thirty years. For the rest of us, it would take sixty.”
“I’ll do it in ten,” I said, my resolve not faltering for a second.
“Now that’s what I like to hear,” Beltane responded, a wide, toothy grin appearing on his face.