I’ve Become My Enemy

"Here, I'm almost there..."

It was a gentle spring night. The moon produced a faint glow, illuminating Isaac's face with a silvery light through the window of an old room. 

However, he didn't spend a moment admiring the beauty of the nocturnal landscape; instead, his eyes were fixed on the floor, more specifically, on an immense magical circle filled with geometric symbols, illegible letters, and an infinity of details. 

Using a quill encrusted with precious stones, Isaac continued to complete the magic circle. Occasionally, he would stand up to step back, muttering long before erasing part of the circle and rewriting it. 

In his left hand, he held a glowing stone with a faint purple light; it was a magical stone providing him with mana.

The deep shadows under his eyes testified to the work he had put in over the last two days in creating this magic circle. 

Shhhhhee

He suddenly stopped, looking at the stone in his hand. The stone shrank by the second before disappearing like stardust. 

Isaac didn't seem surprised by this. He wiped his hand against his dark blue wizard's robe, a robe that seemed to have endured the ages. It was filled with arcane symbols, pockets, and parts visibly amateurishly stitched together. Despite its condition, it exuded a sense of mysticism and mystery unique to wizards. 

This old wizard's robe indicated his rank as an apprentice. Once graduated, he would receive a new robe of green color, proof of his advancement. 

Pausing his work on the magic circle, Isaac headed toward a canvas bag placed on an old table that seemed ready to collapse at any moment. 

Upon opening the bag, he retrieved the last stone in his possession, carelessly tossed the bag into a corner of the room where he had been working for two days, and infused the stone with his magic power, keeping his eyes closed for a few seconds. 

"That should be enough to finish..." Isaac murmured before returning to complete his magic circle, stone in hand. 

After a few more dozen minutes, the stone also disappeared. However, Isaac didn't worry; a smile adorned his lips. The magic circle, into which he had put so much effort, was finally completed. 

He then slowly stood up, stretching his arms above his head. Now that the circle was finished, it was time to use it. 

On the old table, Isaac retrieved several objects he had prepared earlier. To start, scented candles that he placed in different spots around the magic circle, followed by plants like mugwort, sage, and vervain that he arranged similarly. 

Finally, he picked up a document marked with a seal representing a star. On the document, it was written in large letters: Enchanted Oath. 

Looking at the document, Isaac felt anger burning in his heart, igniting his will. He clenched his teeth and placed the enchanted oath near the center of the magic circle. 

The old table was now empty; all the preparations were in place. Isaac positioned himself in the center of the magic circle, in an empty space specially created for him. 

Once at the center of the circle, he looked with satisfaction at the 4.44-meter-wide circle he had created. He had poured all his knowledge of magic acquired over several years of relentless studies, as well as his own theories and research, into this circle. 

This circle was anything but academic; on the contrary, Isaac was certain he was the first to invent such a magic circle. 

The moon, previously high in the sky, was slowly giving way to the sun. The room gradually lit up, forcing Isaac to squint. 

The fatigue he had accumulated seemed to vanish, slowly exorcised by the sun's rays. 

He then searched in one of the pockets of his wizard's robe and pulled out a crumpled newspaper, which he unfolded. On the front page, the image of a handsome man with black hair, a fine nose, and green eyes appeared, a proud smile reigning over his face. 

The article's headline read: "William Moreau, the youngest professor at Rose Academy, has once again disrupted the magical world with the publication of his new thesis."

Frish! 

Once again, Isaac felt the anger rise, crumpling the newspaper into a ball once more. 

"William... I will finally reveal the truth." Isaac placed the crumpled newspaper back into a pocket of his robe and closed his eyes. 

The magic circle at his feet began to slowly glow with a soft white color. It gradually brightened from Isaac's feet outward. 

Once the circle turned completely white, the candles lit up simultaneously, different scents emanating from them, with hints of vanilla and lavender gently filling the room. 

A mystical and ominous energy emanated from the circle, the colors in the room dimmed, and even the sun's rays seemed to avoid disturbing the ongoing ritual. 

Isaac then opened his eyes and began to speak in a distorted and strange voice.

"By the primordial forces of nature, 

I, Isaac Kepler, renounce my magic, the power of my being, 

In exchange for my power, grant my dearest wish 

That the enchanted oath binding me to William Cedric Moreau be undone, 

That its invisible chains break and dissipate, 

That sleep may not reach me, 

And that my magic sacrifices itself to free my soul forever."

The moment he finished uttering these words, incomprehensible whispers began to resonate in his ears, accompanied by excruciating pain. 

In this world filled with whispers and pain, Isaac suddenly felt a profound gaze examining him, as if in an instant, he was being judged by a higher entity. He couldn't help but tremble all over; the pressure was unbearable for a young wizard like Isaac, whose only talent lay in theory. 

Suddenly, everything stopped. Isaac struggled to catch his breath. 

If it had lasted any longer, I would have surely gone mad… As he slowly recovered, Isaac felt his magic power slowly breaking inside him. It was a sign that the ritual had worked as planned!

Pfiou 

Isaac let out a sigh. "Now, I just have to wait," he murmured, exhausted. He dragged himself to a rocking chair placed in a corner of the room and closed his eyes. 

**

"...Sir, Sir. It's almost noon, please, wake up." 

Awakened by the insistent call, Isaac opened his eyes and saw a familiar, well-groomed old man. His sideburns were graying, and his mustache was carefully trimmed. He was none other than William Moreau's butler, the man Isaac despised the most. 

"Alfred?" he asked cautiously. If this man was here, it surely meant that his plan had failed. The magic circle was supposed to end the enchanted oath. If Alfred, William's butler, had found him, it also meant that his master knew. 

The enchanted oath was too powerful for me after all… Isaac sighed in resignation. In performing this ritual, he was ready to gamble his future as a wizard without regret. He had, of course, considered failure, but he didn't expect to be found so quickly by William. 

"Indeed, it's me, Sir. Perhaps you had a rough night?" Alfred asked politely, filling a glass of water. 

Why is he calling me Master? William is here!? Alarmed, Isaac hurriedly stood up and scanned the room, a luxurious and spacious bedroom. Finally, his gaze fell on the mirror, which he examined in shock. 

In the mirror were reflected two people: the first was Alfred, with a questioning look, and the second was a face Isaac hated more than anything, a fine nose, black hair, and green eyes—those of William Cedric Moreau. 

Isaac slowly moved his hand; William in the mirror did the same. 

"Is this... Is this me?" 

"Of course, it's you, Sir. Take this; it will help you wake up," Alfred smiled softly, handing a glass of water toward Isaac.