Seeing the Soul

"Then what shall be done with him?" A Knight spoke, sounding as strong as his shoulders were broad.

Humming softly an older man, draped in a heavy robe, spoke after some thought. "No beasts nor monsters were found near him?" He questioned.

"None sir, whilst blood was fresh and his body worn. He had run for… His Radiance knows how long. Even his feet had bled." The Knight explained. Shaking his head in confusion. "But the monster's blood on his hands was still fresh. He could not have run from the corpse, not in the condition he was in."

Nodding slowly in response the Old Man was about to speak but the sound of chains moving interrupted him.

The rust grated against His skin as he moved, trying to adjust. His mind still felt clouded, his mouth dry. He was cold enough that he could feel his skin prickling. Yet his body was burning up. He could barely even open his eyes. Let alone speak or understand where he was.

He never had felt so drained… where was he? At least he wasn't under the sun. He wouldn't feel so sore if he had gone back to the start.

He was still alive, he hadn't died again.

That much was a blessing, at least he thought so for now.

"It seems he has woken. However, I believe that he would be unable to talk to us in the state he is in." The Old Man said, turning to the Knight.

"I shall have a healer tend to him immediately." The Knight agreed, turning and nodding to a soldier who stood guard nearby making him hurry down the hall.

---

He could hear people speaking again but he couldn't make out what they were saying. Was it the man who had spoken before he had collapsed? Maybe, he couldn't find the energy to care right now. He just wanted… to sleep again.

Waking suddenly he did his best to examine his surroundings. The roof was stone. He couldn't see the sun. His body was weak. His legs burnt when he tried to shift them, sharply breathing in from the flare of pain.

The chains were gone. Were there chains or was his mind just foggy?

"Go inform Sir Radfil, the man has woken up." One of the soldiers said firmly as he looked through the bars.

Confused He shuffled around, trying to pull himself up. The cold metal of an armoured hand helped him lean against the wall. "Careful, do not try to move too much sir." The soldier said as he helped Him.

Trying to speak He failed, coughing roughly instead. His whole body aching as he jolted. Feeling a cup rest against his lips he eagerly drank. Groaning when it was pulled away. He wanted more. "Slowly sir, there is plenty." The soldier said.

Relaxing a bit He slowly drank more water. He had so many questions yet none of them seemed to matter right now. The time for talking would come later. Right now all he wanted to do was drink.

"I see you have finally woken." An Old Man said, a soft smile on his face and a hunch to his shoulders. He recognised his voice, he had been to see him before.

Looking up He realized he hadn't even heard them coming. He had been far too focused. Watching the soldier back away as he nodded respectfully to the towering Knight who followed the older man. Keeping the cup in his hand he smiled gratefully at the soldier.

The cup was simple pottery, there were knights. Something was telling him this was… abnormal. It was old.

"Can you understand us?" The old man asked, shuffling around until he was once more in His line of sight. His eyebrows raised slightly as some of the warmth faded from his eyes.

This Old Man… there was something about him. He was more dangerous than the tall knight. Before he got distracted by his own thoughts again He spoke up, his voice only coming out on the second try. Suppressing another cough he said, "Y-Yes. Sorry I…" Pausing as his voice rasped from his throat. It almost hurt.

How long had it been since he spoke to a person? His heart had an ember in it… He was meant to be at least doing something related to these people.

His heart… He was still in a 'trial.' So even after defeating the goblins, it wasn't over.

As He was dragged back into thought, his face dropped as his muscles tensed. Seeing that He wasn't going to continue the Old Man asked another question. "Hm, that is good. It was quite a shock when you were found. I'm sorry for the unwelcoming location but caution is best with unknown circumstances. May I know your name sir?"

Looking back up at the Old Man he opened his mouth to answer. "My name is…" He started to say, pausing when he realized He didn't know. It wouldn't help telling them that though. "My name is Ragnem." He said, he didn't know why but it felt right.

"And mine is Markoth. It is a pleasure to meet you Ragnem." His voice warmed again as he held his hand out.

Taking the hand he shook it as best he could. His whole body still felt stiff. "A pleasure," Ragnem responded, glancing around the cell as he said so.

Catching his gaze Markoth chuckled and said. "Well, it was almost as if you had come out of nowhere. There was no sign of you having landed or run to where we found you. That and the blood of the monster you killed was still fresh. We thought it would be best if caution was used." As he nodded his head.

"To have run yourself to the brink of death. What drove you to push yourself so hard." The Knight suddenly questioned, stepping forward.

The way the torches on the wall flickered against his armour and the overbearing presence of his height was intimidating. Trying not to stutter, hoping that simply his voice being raspy would cover it up he said as confidently as he could. "I know that I had to do something, I had a reason."

He didn't want to tell them the full truth, who knows what they would do. Were they all in a trial? Was this something bigger? If they were part of it would they trap him so he couldn't attempt it again. There was far too much he was uncertain about.

"I don't really remember anything from before." He said. Keeping it to half-truths.

Sitting in silence for a moment he glanced up at Markoth as he saw the man staring at him. Feeling a shudder he felt… pressured, like he needed to say something more. Something- "Could I have some food, please? I'm starving." The words left his mouth before he could really process them.

Seeing Markoth relax as he said that he couldn't help but feel something was going on. But hearing the man chuckle as the Knight nodded to one of the soldiers who quickly hurried off the tension started to leave Ragnems shoulders.

"Of course, I apologize, while odd. I do believe, or chose to believe, that you are being honest. I do hope you do not betray my belief. Your strange mannerisms are suspicious, however, I do not think you are an enemy. Neither is their magic locking your memories or controlling you." Markoth started to explain, reasoning some of the caution that was shown.

"Wait magic?" Ragnem found himself blurting again before he could stop the thoughts from leaving his mouth. Furrowing his brows as he did so.

Muttering something Markoth nodded his head as he said. "Yes, Magic. Are you not aware of it?" His voice gained curiosity as he pulled over a stool and sat down.

"Um, no I… well I know of it kinda. Like. Unexplainable stuff. But I've never really thought it was real." Ragnem responded slowly, thinking over his words before he said them. Finally not just blurting things out.

Seeing light appear in Markoth's eyes as realization seemed to set in the man said. "Ah, I see, well that is not abnormal for those who live in small villages, perhaps you are from somewhere far off. By what means you ended up so close to Zenithal I can only ponder."

Nodding along Ragnem let Markoth continue, amused that the man seemed to get lost in thought as much as he did. "Yes, Magic is real. However, it is very explainable. Everyone has magic within them, it is a force of life that drives us. Some call it a soul others think that it comes from thought. Where it truly originates from is still unknown though."

"Magic can be used in many ways by many different people, the more you experience something, or the more you understand a concept. The stronger your magic related to that 'understanding' will be. For this reason, most people focus on trying to understand one thing as best they can. Once your understanding of something reaches enlightenment, and you can use mana, you can then manipulate it." Markoth went on to explain.

Seeing the Old Man's eyes wrinkle as he smiled Ragnem leaned back against the wall, the idea of Magic to him was just fascinating. He shouldn't behave like a child though.

"Can I learn it?" Ragnem asked. He didn't see any reason not to. If it was tied to the mind and soul even if he restarted the trail he wouldn't lose it, right? It was hope. Some way to make solid progression beyond just knowing what was happening.

Examining him for a moment Markoth looked over his behind him and down the hall before he stood up. "Well perhaps, if you have an understanding of something and you have enough mana within you then I am sure you can learn how. But I believe that this talk will end here."

Seeing the soldier come back into view through the bars he walked into the cell with a bowl of porridge. Putting it down on the small table by the bed. Hearing the Knight move he looked up as they exited the cell. 

Before Markoth followed the Knight he said. "While the cell is not the nicest as you are in no condition to walk, it would be easiest to stay down here for now. When you have recovered enough I am sure you can be provided with a room in the servant's quarters until we can find where you came from."

Nodding his head Ragnem eagerly picked up the bowl. Shoveling the food into his mouth. It was the first time he had eaten for what was… days. No, it hadn't even been two if this was the same day he had arrived here. He had just done the first one over and over.

He still felt famished though.

Watching Markoth and the Knight leave he glanced up from his bowl as the soldier said, "I will be back tomorrow, you should rest after you eat." Walking out as well leaving the cell door open.

Well, it wasn't like he could walk anyway… his legs felt like noodles.

Finishing the food he lay back down slowly, groaning in pain as he tried to find a comfy position but before he could even do that sleep had taken him.

---

More porridge… he wasn't going to complain though. There was worse that he could eat. Leaning back against the wall again he looked down at his legs. His feet had been wrapped in bandages and he was wearing new clothes. Medieval commoner was the best way he could put it. Tunic and pants.

Finishing the last spoonful of food he put the bowl down before standing up. It had been two days since he had woken and first talked with Markoth. Walking was still sore but he could do it sluggishly.

How did he have the fortitude to push himself through the pain of running beyond his limit?

That's right… he hadn't wanted to lose that warmth. The longer he stayed put the more the ember faded but just thinking about the chill was making his back shudder.

Sitting back down on the bed he got as comfortable as he could before letting out a deep breath. "Magic huh… alright let's try again."

He had asked the soldier who brought him food more about magic. He hadn't known much apart from some really lucky people who just were able to feel mana naturally from a young age and others felt it when they were about to die or some other event triggered them.

High emotions, stress, trauma. All things that were able to push someone to achieve to feel mana. Or practising until you could feel it like most mages did.

He had tried to feel mana yesterday but he had been unsuccessful regretfully. Letting out the breath he focused on the darkness behind his closed eyelids. Letting the world fade, letting the feeling of the scratchy cloth against his skin vanish. Tuning out the sounds of the torches crackling.

There must be something, something deep within him. Mana… did it come from having a soul or thought? No one knew apparently. His soul… it was the only thing he could be sure was his. This body he had woken up in felt… abnormal. Different.

He hadn't really thought about it but now that he did his arms felt too long… his shoulders too heavy. He felt, trapped.

Something felt trapped… he could see it.

His soul… he had felt its darting presence yesterday. But he hadn't been really able to see it. Now he could. It felt small, scared, worried. Was that how he felt? Maybe it was… he hadn't really thought about it.

Drawing closer Ragnem reached out, feeling with his mind. But he couldn't touch it, it was too far away. It always was. Just at the end of his finger, but never meeting it.

Taking in a breath his eyes snapped open. He was still in the cell. His mind felt… worn... thin. Looking to his right the bowl was gone. The cell was still open, the torches had burnt out leaving the place in a gloomy darkness. Almost too dark to see…

Wait, the torches shouldn't be out? The guards maintained them regularly. This… no something was different, something was unsettling.

It was almost as if he knew he was dreaming… that this wasn't real but it still felt so… cold. The stone beneath his feet as he swung his legs off the bed. The creaking of the cell door as he moved past it.

Nothing up or down the hall… what was happening?

Was this to do with the trial?

Before he could form any more questions he was once more in his bed. A hand on his shoulder shook him from his daze. His vision fogged at the edges as a ringing distorted his thoughts. Droning in the back of his mind. "Ragnem… Ragnem. Are you, are you alright young man?" Markoth said, his brows furrowed as he stared into Ragnem's eyes. Looking between them.

"Ragnem can you hear me? Are you awake?" His voice grew more concerned as Ragnem blinked but didn't respond.

Nodding quickly even the motion rattled his brain making him hold his head as he groaned. "Y-Yeah I'm alright. Is everything alright?" Speaking despite the throbbing it caused him.

"Quite… well assuming you are still with us then nothing has gone wrong. What was happening? Samuel came to bring you dinner but you were not responding to anything. He was worried so he fetched the healer but they said you appeared fine." His voice softened as pulled over the stool.

Watching Markoth, Ragnem didn't say anything. Waiting to hear what would come next. "I came when Samuel found you the same way this morning." Markoth finished, clearly questioning with his gaze if Ragnem knew anything.

He didn't know what to say. He… he wasn't doing anything wrong, was he? He shouldn't have been, he should tell at least what he was doing for now. Then he might at least get some answers. "I was trying to see if I could feel mana. I was meditating and I thought I saw my soul. Or at least what I thought was my soul." Ragnem confessed as he let his body relax.

Not replying straight away Markoth clearly thought over what he heard. "You are trying to feel mana? Well, it would make sense if you're interested." Mulling over things again. "You thought was your soul? Could it have been something else? Your core for example?" He asked.

"I mean, no? I don't know. I think it was. No… I know it was." Ragnem responded. He felt it instinctively that was his soul but… why was it locked away? Were all souls locked in their bodies? Was he overthinking it because he didn't know enough?

Nodding Markoth responded slowly. "It most likely was, most people feel their mana through meditating. It is housed in the core which is in the heart and mana flows through your body like blood in your veins. People who do not know this typically look within themself at their mind or… soul. Some find their mindscape. I do not remember the last person who saw their soul." His voice trailed off as he gazed questioningly at Ragnem.

"I…" Ragnem started to say but no more words formed. Well, he knew what he saw. He was starting to feel that ignorance made him say too much. "I don't know sir. I feel like it was."

"Then you shall learn magic. If what you did see was your soul something about you is… unique." Markoth said hesitantly. Clearly thinking things over as he was saying them.

Hearing the hesitation Ragnem asked, "Unique? You mean something is wrong." Guessing but the way he had said 'unique' made him feel something about this was off.

"Yes. If you can see your soul something is wrong." Markoth bluntly stated. Standing up from his stool as he said. "I believe that you know nothing. Of that, I am almost certain. You must tell no one you saw your soul, not even if the Emperor himself asks. No one." His heavy gaze bore down on Ragnem.

Nodding his head Ragnem wondered what it even meant to see your soul. Nothing good clearly.

"You will learn magic under me then. If you truly can see your soul your talent should be undeniable. Come now. Your room in the servant quarters is ready. To earn your stay you shall work during the day. Then you shall train with me at night and you shall rest when you have time." Markoth spoke, his voice already firm as he walked out of the cell expecting Ragnem to follow.

This wasn't ideal. But one thing was certain, his heart was burning. This was progress.