Breakout

Coiling circles of multicolored particles fused in the air, the sisters were using all four basic elements to keep the lunatic mage incapacitated.

A fire circle was drawn all around his body and kept his limbs from moving, an air spell pushed the heat toward him, making bubbles appear on his skin, and another spell was cast, it looked like a sphere with glittering specks of fire, the small ignitions gnashed at the oxygen as it clung like a mask around Lancelot's head, it shortened his breath.

Earth magic used the dust and cinder particles, up to the ones stuck under his nails, to push him downwards. Water magic used the few drops of sweat and the natural amount floating in the air to pressure him further.

Lancelot's cheeks were sunken, just like his eye sockets. His eyebrows and hair were charred and so was his skin. His wails of pain reached the boy's ears before both passed out.

Their world was crumbling all of a sudden. Seeing the closest being he considered his father being nearly beaten to death shook him deeply. Worst of all, Arthur knew the catastrophe was partly his fault.

The king barely looked at his son before ordering around the reinforcements. "Bion, mend my wounds, Seisyll, go for the prince."

Uther had bodyguards too, omnimancers as highly regarded as Lancelot, but the contrast with the one they were supposed to protect was minimal and the Tadg twins had remained in the king's shadow for decades already.

A gentle lift of Bion's hand materialized a bubble of water that cooled down the gold bits sinking in the king's cheek.

Seisyll Tadg, a man with an outfit that could make a giant crow blush, approached the prince in a hurry, he saw the terrible state of the boy's swollen wrist and started to heal it.

Bion Tadg, one that wore the feathers of a hundred swans, cautiously lifted the damaged crown and bowed after his extraction. "I'll have it restored by our forgemages. I'll count every jewel twice." He then proceeded to heal the king, but his focus was interrupted by his whining brother.

"Seisyll! If you can't take care of him, I'll do it, I told you to not push yourself!" He grumbled.

"Almost finished." The black omnimancer replied with a last push of effort. "Alright. Done. See? No problem." He shoved his hand under his sleeve to pull out a tiny glass bottle filled with glowing liquid. He drank it all before getting up.

Now that everyone could take a break, they had plenty of time to admire the extent of the destruction. No tainted glass had survived, not only on the palace but also hundreds of meters away in the city. The thick wall of ice had somehow protected the east wing from most of the blast. A few tiles were sent in the garden up to the next neighborhood, the ceiling crumbled and the pricey paintings under the domes were all wasted.

Only the sturdy structure of the building allowed its wall to not make a domino effect. The king was already planning to forge mage much more than his weapons when his five flowers approached.

Daisy reported. "We counted twenty-seven corpses, most had no armor, they are the household staff."

Uther took a solemn posture before clearing his throat.

"There is no time to rest. Call the ones who are still alive, all the staff available. We'll use the smoke to attract our citizens. Forbid the use of magic on them, civilian casualties are in need."

Uther made a little detour to peek into the ballroom, the two thrones and the rest of the furniture were blasted away, and there was nothing left for him to dine next to the ghost of his wife anymore.

He whispered with a tone that couldn't convince anyone, himself included. "That won't affect the kingdom." His eyes were locked on Bion, still in the process of regenerating the missing tissues.

The man took his utmost empathic tone and lowered his head before replying. "My king, tens of mages can build everything back in the blink of an eye, the castle's archives are still stocked in the old library, it is too far for the explosion to have damaged it."

A violent slap struck the man who was interrupted during a complex attempt to heal the king anew.

"Keep some work for later, don't bother the mages for such a petty matter. Still, contact the House of Mages, and make them all come. I'll change my outfit, that's how much time I'm giving you. Meet at the Last Pillar."

Bion's eyes were wide open, but his neck mechanically moved in a nod.

"Lily! Fetch Smite!" The king's voice echoed loudly, he saw his daughter run in the corridor, proving once more the efficiency Bion had to match if he wanted to please the man in front of him. The omnimancer adapted to the situation in the blink of an eye and moved his hand in a strange dance.

A red ball formed and ascended, it passed through the collapsed structure and exploded high above the castle like a silent firework.

As he heavily stomped the ground, the king continued to give orders. "Poppy! The ceremonial outfits! Bring both of them! Camellia! Prepare those for your sisters and yourself! Rose! Drag Lancelot to the Last Pillar! Daisy! Have the staff prepare flowers, plunder the garden if needed!"

Lily was already back, the king patted her shoulder to give her momentum toward her next mission. "Wake up your brother and take care of his hair. He's about to make his first apparition."

Even the living armors gasped in surprise at the announcement. There was no time for them to cry for any of their wounds as they rushed to their next task.

A few rooms away, Arthur was stripped down and forced into a fine costume, the ashes all over the place dirtied everything they touched, and the monochrome clothes were stained the second they were worn.

Now that Lily could see Arthur from up close, she noticed a bleeding that wasn't hers going down from the top of the boy's head, but it was too late to tell Seisyll about it, the man was back to his laboratory already. As she was only a mage like her sisters, she couldn't do much about the condition of her brother and simply cleaned the boy's head. She managed to wake him up in the process.

"Father needs you Arthur, stand up and puff up your torso a little, will you?" She said, not bothering to help him walk.

He became a living puppet, Lily cast small gusts of wind to push her brother forward instead of touching him. It helped a few ashes to get off the ceremonial outfit. She put Smite in his hand while he stumbled his way to the unknown.

The royal flower stared at the red stain at the back of Arthur's head. It was staining his white hair. Though she couldn't say whether he had been wounded because of the explosion or his faint, she was certain the omnimancer forgot to make a full check-up.

'Who... What...? Is... Never.'

No sentence could form in his brain, Arthur was mindlessly venturing forth, he had little recollection of his day, and the back of his head kept sending pain signals, however, being given the order to advance, he was focusing on his sight instead.

The colors were inverted, shadows moved and the cinders were turning into slow snowflakes moving to the wind that passed through the crevices of the palace.

His feet were heavy, he saw a river of blood flowing under his knees, a dark ambiance that reminded him of his many trips to the experimentation table.

Each time he slowed down, his sister used more magic to accelerate his walking pace. She was using the boy's sweat and his blood to re-supply his body with oxygen. The prince's body was moving thanks to the mage more than its owner.

He could hear words, songs, and whispers, his eyes often looked at empty spots, and they repeatedly stopped their synchronization. The liquid that was clogging his brain enhanced his misery by leaps and bounds. Now that he paid attention to it, the hundreds of mages he met in his room were dark silhouettes, looking at him with a frozen face.

When he made a step outside, there was no way for him to tell he was out of his bedroom. He was locked in an infinite, labyrinthic loop of his past years. The object in his hand was so light it felt like a mere accessory.

In his illusory world, he stepped on his bed and saw the shackles that bound him to everlasting torture. His ankles were hidden under the rusty steel that was corroding eternal wounds.

What entered his ears was too complex to understand, he was staring down at a tall figure, one he had never seen kneeling before, still he couldn't tell who it was.

"Shall this traitor serve as an example? This is a defective seed. A mageroot that rots despite the life of dedication it had at hand. This is a dangerous being that killed your parents and children today." Said Uther, pointing at the stage where Lancelot and Arthur stood.

Whoever exited the palace's doors looked like an undead. No one was spared from the short inferno.

"Arthur Aethersworn, in the name of the crown shall you halt the heresy of the fallen knight, Lancelot Solarfield."

The king's voice resonated so much that it penetrated inside the self-containing mind.

'No!' Arthur mind-shouted. He clenched his sword and slashed at the fatherly effigy that corrupted his very thoughts.

Only the high-pitched scream of his sword cutting the air woke him up from his dizzy state. He blinked a few times before taking a step back, letting go of the legendary item. His own feet realized they were on a sturdy material.

He saw Lancelot, smiling at him with a kind face. No one in the public, not one in a thousand person, dared to breathe.

There was only the remain of thought, letting the boy think he was, perhaps, dreaming.

"My prince, it is time for me to give you what you deserve, follow me one last time..." The omnimancer's words died in his throat as it was hard to consider what remained of it.

Lancelot stood up abruptly, his expression turned sour and so did the public's.

He made one step forward, first like a baby who discovered new worlds, and then like the hero who killed the fabled dragon. He clenched his teeth as a few strands of his long blond hair floated in the air.

He walked off stage and continued toward the capital's main plaza.

'Why?' Asked the prince.

Ten meters farther, his silvery necklace fell on the ground.

'Why have you done this, father?' Arthur's eyes were teary as he understood the fate of his oldest friend.

Twenty meters away. A red slit appeared around Lancelot's neck. The man's tall corpulence was enough to fend off the crowd.

Thirty meters. Lancelot's body stopped, a last push from the knight made his head roll for ten more.

'Why have you left me alone?' He asked, consumed by his new guilt.

Instead of falling to his knees, instead of giving up, Arthur's feet sunk to the ground. He ran like he never did through the open passage, he took his only opportunity to run away and internalized even the sound of his breaking heart.