Guilt of a Son

I'm...fighting my master.

I'm fighting my master...

Wait, I'm actually fighting my master?!

In public? And a stronger version of herself nonetheless?! This is crazy! What even happened that resulted to the both of us fighting in public?!

...well, I have my guesses, but I'm not even so sure if it is correct.

"Master! Please! I didn't mean to do anything to anger you!" I defend myself, thrusting my spear to her shoulder, but she only dodges lazily, her expression deadly.

"You didn't mean to anger me?" She asks, slashing her spear on mine to give her an edge in the fight. My spear collides with hers, resulting to an open spot in my right shoulder.

"Hahaha...you didn't mean to anger me?" She asks again...but it's oddly akin to a hysterical rambling. "You moronic disciple...do you not know what you just this?!" She curses, hitting my vulnerable spot and piercing my shoulder.

"I...I that was for a practical reason..." I defend myself, bracing the pain as she pulls the spear off me forcibly.

"Practical?" She asks, her anger only rising. "What could be ever practical about losing a life?" She asks again, laughing crazily, staring at me with a crooked smile.

"That's a funny statement disciple." She says, casting...something in her hands.

I back away upon the sight of a small orb in her hands. A small...but bright red orb that gleamed like the sun.

I mean...it wouldn't be an exaggeration for me to say that it was basically a compressed and compact version of the sun.

"I think today's a good day to teach you another lesson," She smiles wryly as sweat trickles down my face. "I'll be taking out a little bit of my anger right now...so, do your best to live."

Multiple small orbs amassed from the atmosphere, surrounding me from all sides. They all start to glow and vibrate strongly, a tell-tale sign...

Wait...my master knows how to use magic?

No-- more importantly...

Is that orb a f*cking bomb?!

I ran away from the area, hoping these bombs would detonate someplace far from me...but these orbs were persistent, having a mind of their own and tracking me down.

Backed into a corner, I immediately positioned my spear, ready to thrust some of the orbs, hoping to break them down and force them to deactivate.

Simultaneously, I'm also looking for another place to move away...somewhere that doesn't have any players or NPCs.

Thankfully, not many people were close enough to interfere in our fight.

I successfully detonated a few orbs at my front, while dodging most of the orbs that exploded mid-air.

...oddly enough, I believed that Alvana would suddenly hit me from the back and pierce me with the spear.

But she wasn't.

She was just there in front of me, resting her head on the other end of her spear that she thrust into the ground. She was looking directly at me calmly, almost as if she were watching some entertainment show.

...what a damned carefree behavior.

And so, minutes pass and I hit some more of the orbs, believing that I'm getting the upper hand.

"I'm getting the hand of this," I tell myself, getting used to the motions of evading and attacking. Of repositioning, and making use of my footing.

But something was off.

She was frowning.

Disappointed.

That's what she looked like.

Her expression then changed severely....from lax and carefree...to strict and cruel.

I looked around for anything besides me that could mean trouble...but there was nothing. No orb was close to me...nor was there anything incoming.

Why was she looking like that then?

Panic struck in my heart, as I put my guard up again. She only smiles, using her hand to cast...something.

What kind of spell is she going to use again?!

"Bam," She smiles wickedly, firing an onslaught barrage of deadly orbs that moved quicker and more relentlessly than before.

As just before I knew it, it came in contact with my body and caused explosions from all over.

It blew up pieces of my flesh...some, burning my body whole.

It happened so quickly that I only felt the pain when I actually looked at me...at the remnants of my body. An amputated arm, a severed leg...and multiple holes in my body.

I was a bleeding mess.

However...this near-death experience felt more liberating than it was yesterday.

I deserve this. To feel the torturous pain enveloping my body whole.

I'm close to dying if I don't get treatment.

I'm going to die again...but it's not even by my own will...

Should I really experience this again?

I...I don't want to die like this.

Feeling and suffering from death should be according to my own will. Especially when what I want is to suffer under the pain I've caused to my mother.

I want to pierce my flesh with my own volition.

So...to save myself from dying hopelessly, I looked at my spear weakly, eyes glum and desperate.

I come closer to it, crawling...coming closer to grab it and pierce my head.

...

But I'm healed.

Again.

And this time?

I didn't want it.

I see Alvana look at me with confusion and disgust, hating the way I look right now...or maybe, hating the lifelessness and dazed state that's evident in my eyes.

"Disciple," Alvana says weakly...not as a sign of weakness, nor as a display of submission...but of one that's out of utter perplexity.

"Why do you wish to die?" She grits her teeth, looking at me coldly. "Immortals like you may view life as meaningless...as resurrection is always a possibility for the likes of you."

I know she's only worried about me...I'm technically the husband of her master...as well as her personal disciple.

But I don't like this interrogation.

"However...this does not excuse the fact that you are still my disciple...a follower of the Lianths." She scoffs, casting a healing spell on me...returning the pieces of my flesh that were dislocated.

I get her point.

I really do...but I don't want to cave in.

"Give me a damned good reason why you think that casting it away is--"

But my desperation gets the best of me, as I answer with all my might.

"Because if I don't-- if I don't do this to myself, then I would never forgive what I've done to a precious person..." I say weakly, my voice was desperate...yet strong, as its intent is meant to display my willingness.

My stubbornness.

Another trait I've had from my mom.

"And if I-- if I let myself go without paying for anything I've done, then I-" I ramble, but she stops me...only looking at me with confusion.

"...what are you? A masochist or something?"

...what?