Aftermath of The Battle

Behold, a ground covered in corpses bisected or beheaded one which way or another. The sand red with blood and camels with now broken legs twitching all around. Amidst all of this is an old man sitting on a stool giving a thumbs up towards his student, whom is also covered in blood mind you. Cyrus walked towards his mentor and asked

"Why did you leave those three alive?" he said while pointing behind him, where the three foes whose morale he had decimated lay squirming on the ground, attempting to free themselves of the ice so that they can continue their escape.

"Ah, that. When you are randomly attacked it is only natural to capture a few so that you can seek out information as to the nature of the attack. Of course if the enemy is smart they will not tell more than is needed to their men who go about the attack, but its not too often you meet yourself fighting one of those." Cato then stood up from his stool, beckoning towards Cyrus and walked towards the three who were currently emulating worms. When he caught up to the three, he simply looked at them and froze their mouths shut so as to stop their unintelligible babbling.

"When you capture your foes and want to make them talk, the first thing you must do is make sure they understand you mean business." Lectured Cato as he dragged the three away from one another, making sure they could easily see the other. He then stepped back, waved his hand towards the sky, and then said " Well, lads as you have heard I want answers as to your purpose, motivations, and any other relation intelligence you have that may benefit me. I may let you live, I may kill you, who knows really. What I can assure you is that if you do not speak then this is what will befall you."

As he ended his sentence, a rain of ice spikes fell from the sky and impaled one of the three several times. Oddly enough, not a single fatal blow was had and the cold immediately cauterized the wound so they did not bleed out. Of course, this fact did not stop the now skewered man from writing and silently screaming in intense pain and agony.

"Now, let us see who is willing to talk." He then walked over to one of the two not turned into a human porcupine and removed his ice muzzle.

Immediately the man said in a maddened rush, "We came on orders of our Sultan, a man of great power was spotted by an oasis town not too far from here so we were one of many parties sent out to try to recruit him, killing him if necessary.

"On the way we spotted what looked to be a swordsmen of particular skill making use of storage equipment. We were greedy and foolish enough to try to rob you, great mage, of your possessions." The man spat out word after word, stringing together the words intelligently and easily understandable, as if this was the last sentence of his entire life. Well, it was. After finishing Cato killed him instantly, making him join his now headless brothers.

"Good, the first one actually talked and told the truth. They don't usually do that…" remarked Cato as he stood up.

"Okay Cyrus go and put the writhing one out of his misery" said Cato to Cyrus.

"Okay" replied Cyrus as he walked over to the man in question, ending him quickly as Cato had done.

"What do you feel?" asked Cato, gesturing towards the corpse with his chin.

"Nothing" replied Cyrus slowly. "Nothing at all. I know I should be feeling something though, how odd. Regardless, the deed is done and it was necessary after all. Still, it feels like something is missing…"

"Hahaha, good it worked." Thought Cato to himself as he was pulling out his Austern Wine, filling up a small jug with it.

He then handed it to Cyrus saying, "Well, here ya go. You are going to need this." Cyrus looked at Cato questioningly, wondering why he was just handed some of his mentors wine.

"Why would I need this wi-" Cyrus was cut off as his mentor then unceremoniously ripped off the mask on his face.

Cyrus froze in place, as the serenity the mask provide was suddenly removed. As if a flood had been suddenly released, the full emotional response to all the killing and butchering he had just partook in came to him in one fell swoop.

"What the hell did I say?? Nothing?? By Mundus I just killed five people with my own hand… five living breathing people now gone?" Thought Cyrus crazily, as all the emotions hitting him at once compromised his rational mind.

Cato noticing this clicked his tongue before taking the wine from Cyrus, opening it for him and then pouring the drink into his mouth. Cyrus gagged and coughed before drinking the wine given to him, taking his mind out of the self-destructive loop that he was caught in.

"That, my student, is the effect of the mask. While it calms your mind down and lets you perform the best that you could possibly, without being affected by any petty emotions, the downside is that when you remove it everything that you skipped out on hits you at once.

"So long as you use it, you will have to get used to the effects when you remove it. The longer you go without removing it, the worse the backlash. Of course, as time goes on you will get more and more used to dealing with it. For now, some good wine will be needed to help you through it." He then handed the mask back towards Cyrus, who took it looking at the mask and wondered

"This… is the price of the mask. The effect of it, it causes me to become a monster??" Cyrus looked at the mask with mixed emotions. To which Cato said,

"The mask is necessary, at least for now. Ordinarily you would have a support structure around you when you advance to the real stage, someone to have your back at all times. This would allow you to grow freely and in time develop such skills that the mask gives you on your own. You will not have this. You will be on your own, Cyrus."

Confused Cyrus asks, "What skills? To become some kind of unfeeling, uncaring…beast?"

Sighing, Cato explains "No. All the mask does is allows you to temporarily detach yourself from all your biases, judgements and hindering emotions. How does this achieve this? Simple. This mask has another name, the mask of truth. It brings out the hidden side we all have inside ourselves, it removes the hypocritical bullshit that people tell themselves to feel better about the actions they take. The you now and the you with the mask on are the same person, it's just that normally you keep this in check forcefully without even realizing it.

"You see Cyrus, in reality we are all wearing masks. We hide our true thoughts and selves from the world around us and instead create fake versions of ourselves to meet the needs of other people or to save ourselves from feelings of guilt, doubt, and shame. The purpose, and irony, of your black mask is that it serves the same purpose but instead of creating a false construction it merely brings out the hidden self. I did not quite know the result of you wearing the mask would be… but from your actions I would say that my suspicions are correct."

"What suspicions? What could you have noticed that I myself did not?" asked Cyrus sincerely.

"Everything boy, everything. Unless you know how to doubt yourself and carefully look within your soul, you will miss many things. Things that only other people will be able to notice. Now, let me explain." Cato once again produces his trusty stool, before sitting on it.

"You are a duality. By raising you in the relative safety of my protection you are hopeful and understand that there is indeed some good in this world, that good being our relationship." Cato then spreads out one of his hands, producing a coin on his palm.

He flicks it from one hand to the other, laying it on the opposite side. "On the other side, you have your apathy for the human condition. By witnessing the brutality of the world, the truth behind the confines of order… you understand that the natural state of things is chaotic in nature. Brutal, visceral, survival of the fittest…whatever one calls it. This causes conflict within you, one that you have not come to terms with as you simply push it down deep within you." Cato then points to the fallen around him, "To survive in this world, you need to accept who you are and continue to grow, to sharpen yourself. Else you end up like this lot, dying like dogs for but a single mistake made."

Cyrus absorbs his mentor's words like a sponge and mulls over them for a while before looking up and asking,

"Chaos… is the natural state of the world. And chaos lay is what exists in the absence of order. Then, in this world…. What is order?"

Smiling with glee Cato responds, "The empire. The empire is order. The empire stands as a beacon of hope in this messed up world. Defending its citizens from themselves, foreign enemies, and beings of unimaginable terror and cruelty. It is not perfect, of course, as nothing is. It is the job of men like us to work within the empire, to slowly correct its flaws and push it towards the correct path…" Cato slowed his words as realization set upon him "Well, more like men like you. My time in the empire ended long ago…ah... I will explain to you this another time. For now, finish your task." Cato pointed towards the last remaining enemy on the ground, the last remaining survivor of the slaughter that took place mere moments ago.

"Over the next few years one of your primary goals will be to reconcile your two halves with one another. The dark will need to see the light and the light will need to accept the existence of the dark, so to speak. This is your start, finish your task, take his life." Cato then drew Cyrus' sword for him and put it in his hand.

Cyrus, having become used to following Cato's orders began to mechanically walk towards the last enemy. With each step, the pressure grew as he became aware of what he had to do and what he was to become

"I must do this. For survival and for growth. If I want to change the world, I must first change myself…." Thought Cyrus again and again, almost as if he were convincing himself. Soon he approached his target, his nerves bundling themselves into intricate weaves. He looked at the man he was about to kill, this time of his own accord. Not in the heat of battle, or under the effects of a mystical mask, nor indirectly but on his own by his own hand while completely lucid. Down the sword fell as he severed both the man's life and his own childish naivety, marking the end of Cyrus the boy and the start of Cyrus the man.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you Cyrus" said Cato, waking Cyrus from his reverie. "Happy Birthday!"