Mind Magic

Ba-dump!

My heart pounded as I stepped out of my room, my determination guiding each step. I needed to find Alastor Creighton.

The hallway of the estate, illuminated with soft, warm lights, seemed almost eerie as I walked down it, my footsteps echoing slightly in the quiet. I could feel my pulse racing, the weight of everything on my shoulders pressing down on me. There was so much I didn't understand, and it was tearing me apart inside.

I had to know the truth.

Alastor was a Radiant-ranker, one of the most powerful beings in this world. If anyone knew something, it would be him. And even if he didn't have all the answers, it was a place to start—a way to piece together what I was missing.

I reached the door to his suite, feeling the anticipation build inside me. With a deep breath, I knocked, the sound reverberating through the hallway. It was late, but I couldn't wait any longer. This couldn't be put off—there was too much at stake.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then I heard footsteps approaching from the other side. The door opened, and Alastor stood there, his piercing eyes locking onto mine.

"Arthur?" Alastor's brows furrowed, surprise evident in his gaze. "It's late. What brings you here?"

"Uncle, I need you to use mind magic on me," I said, my voice unwavering despite the anxiety tightening in my chest.

His eyes widened, and he scrutinized me with a piercing gaze, searching for an explanation. Mind magic—a rare and powerful form of magic. It wasn't officially categorized among the subdivisions because of how difficult it was to perform, and even more challenging to master. But Alastor could do it. He had the skill and the precision required—high-level mastery over elements like lightning and earth, enough to directly influence the brain to delve into someone's mind.

"Why?" His voice was calm but tinged with concern.

I hesitated, feeling the weight of what I was about to ask. I didn't even know if this would work—whether it would give me the answers I so desperately sought. But I had to try.

"Please, Uncle," I urged, my eyes locking onto his. "There's something in my mind, something I need to uncover. Please, just try."

He studied me for a long moment, the intensity of his gaze making me feel almost bare before him. I could see the gears turning in his head, his wariness about what I was asking.

"You realize how dangerous this is, right?" he finally said. "Mind magic isn't a toy. The risk of damage is very real."

"I understand," I said, nodding. "But I have to know. There's something in my memories, something blocked. And I believe it's crucial."

Alastor sighed, his expression softening just a little. He could see the desperation in my eyes—the determination that wouldn't allow me to leave without at least trying.

"All right, Arthur," he said, his tone resigned but gentle. "I'll try. But if at any moment I sense something wrong, I'm stopping. Understood?"

"Understood." I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. I took a deep breath and stepped further into the room, readying myself for whatever was about to happen.

Alastor gestured for me to sit, and I complied, lowering myself onto the plush chair across from him. He stood before me, his hands moving gracefully as faint sparks of mana began to dance around his fingertips.

"Close your eyes and relax," he instructed, his voice becoming soothing, almost hypnotic. "I need you to clear your mind and trust me."

I took another deep breath, closing my eyes as I tried to empty my thoughts. It wasn't easy—anxiety and questions swirled in my mind, but I forced myself to focus solely on Alastor's voice.

I felt a jolt—like a surge of electricity running through my brain, and suddenly, I could sense Alastor's presence in my mind. It was strange—both familiar and foreign—like someone standing in a room that had always belonged to me, yet now felt different.

"Arthur…" Alastor's voice echoed, not from outside but inside my thoughts. "This is deeper than I expected."

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my breathing steady. "What do you see?"

There was a pause—a stillness that seemed to stretch forever. I could sense his presence moving, like fingers brushing across parts of my memory, searching for something hidden, something locked away.

Then suddenly, a flash. Images flickered in my mind—a memory that wasn't fully mine, blurred, fragmented. A voice echoed, faint but distinct.

"I am sorry, this was the only way."

Alastor gasped audibly, and I could feel his shock reverberating through me.

"What is it?" I asked, my voice almost trembling.

"Arthur, there's something… someone else in here," he said, his voice filled with both surprise and confusion. "It's as if there's a barrier, something woven intricately, shielding parts of your memories. Whoever did this is no ordinary being."

A chill ran down my spine, and I felt the weight of his words. A being more powerful than anything I could fathom had interfered with my very mind, my memories—my past.

"What else do you see?" I pushed, my voice urgent. "Is there anything more?"

Alastor hesitated. "No... It's resisting. Whatever force put this here, it doesn't want me to look deeper."

He began to withdraw, the connection fading, and I felt a pang of fear. "No! Wait! There must be more!" I tried to hold onto the presence in my mind, to urge him to stay, to dig deeper.

"Arthur, I can't risk it." Alastor's voice was strained now, as if fighting against an unseen force. "The barrier... it's pushing back. If I continue, it could harm you."

I exhaled, defeated. The strange, electrifying feeling in my head began to fade, and I opened my eyes, finding Alastor staring at me, his expression a mix of worry and bewilderment.

"Whoever did this," he said quietly, "is beyond anything we've ever faced. A power that exceeds even Radiant-rank."

The words hit me hard, the reality settling in. Someone, something, had brought me to this world and had manipulated my mind in the process. And they were more powerful than anyone I knew.

I clenched my fists, a new sense of urgency rising within me. I couldn't just sit back anymore. There were pieces missing—crucial pieces—and I needed to find them. To understand why I was here, who was pulling the strings, and how I could break free of their control.

"Thank you, Uncle," I finally said, my voice hoarse but resolute. "I needed this. Even if it wasn't all the answers, it's a start."

Alastor nodded, his expression still troubled. "Be careful, Arthur. There are forces at play here far greater than we imagined. If you need anything, anything at all, you know where to find me."

I met his gaze, a fire igniting in my chest. "I will find out the truth, no matter what it takes."

__________________________________________________________________________________

After Arthur left, Alastor leaned back in his chair, wiping away the sweat that had gathered on his brow. He took in a slow breath, trying to calm the racing of his heart. The experience had drained him far more than he anticipated.

He glanced down at his left hand, noticing the tremble that hadn't subsided. Alastor Creighton, one of the three 9-circle mages, wasn't accustomed to this—this feeling of being pushed beyond his limits. Despite the fact that a considerable portion of his mana was currently used to imprison his wife, he was still a force to be reckoned with. His mastery of magic was unparalleled, capable of unraveling even the most complex of mind barriers.

But this... this was different. This was beyond anything he had encountered before. Something that exuded an aura far surpassing Radiant-rank.

His eyes darkened, and a frown etched itself deeper into his features. He had felt it—the unfathomable strength, the intricate webbing of power that shielded Arthur's mind, preventing him from delving further. It was as if an impenetrable wall stood in his way, crafted by a being so powerful that even attempting to bypass it would have been foolish.

"So it truly exists," Alastor whispered to himself, his voice barely audible, yet filled with unease.

A chill ran through him as the realization struck—a level of power that no mortal should ever touch. He had read about it in obscure texts, legends passed down from the times when Julius Slatemark became the first Radiant-ranker ever.

With a flick of his fingers, a spark of mana coalesced in the air, spatial magic shimmering as a book materialized in his grasp. Its leather cover was worn, its pages yellowed with age, yet the knowledge it held was invaluable—rare secrets of the world, truths hidden from all but the most curious, or perhaps, the most foolish.

Alastor slowly opened the book to a bookmarked page, the parchment crackling softly under his touch. His eyes moved across the ancient script, lingering on one word written boldly across the center of the page.

"Divine-rank," he read aloud, the word carrying a weight that seemed to echo through the room.