Rise of Tyrus

Tyrus tilted his head at Sir Geroth's question. The man was definitely asking him to choose whether to accept this strange creature as his companion. He'd tussled against beasts before, but befriending them was an entirely different story, especially when it came to one that could think and speak like any other human.

"We are bonded now," Eaubrus said. "Years of prolonged exposure have created a connection between us. If you would allow it, I would like to follow you on your journey. There is a chance that through travel and experience, more of my memories will return."

Tyrus looked down at the creature that had been his mysterious artifact for so long. "You want to come with me? I don't know about that. How do I know you won't lose control, or that your forgotten past won't put us all in danger?"

Eaubrus immediately lowered himself to the ground, his body flattening against the grass. His tail went flat, and his head bowed low. "I cannot prove myself trustworthy through words alone, bearer. Only through actions can I demonstrate my loyalty and good intentions. If you refuse my companionship, I will understand. If you believe I am too dangerous to live, I will not resist such a judgment."

"That's crazy!" Tyrus exclaimed, shocked by the creature's willingness to accept even death. "I can't just kill you when you're showing submission like that! It's also harder to do that when you look like a pup. You don't need to suggest something like that."

Sir Geroth stepped closer. "Actually, Tyrus, I think you should keep the pup close."

Tyrus stared at him incredulously. "Um, are you sure? You were ready to destroy it moments ago."

"That was before I understood what it truly was," Sir Geroth replied. "I used mana sense to examine its core while it was explaining its transformation. The creature is weak, much weaker than you might expect. The transformation process and mana absorption have left it in a vulnerable state. It will need time to recover and stabilize."

He gestured toward Eaubrus, who was still lying submissively on the ground. "More importantly, keeping it with you allows us to monitor its behavior and recovery. If its memories return gradually, we might learn valuable information about its past, its sealing, and potentially about other threats we haven't encountered yet, especially against Scourge. It's better to have it where we can observe it than to let it wander off on its own."

Tyrus pondered the logic. "I guess that makes sense. But there's a practical problem—where would I even keep him? Does the academy allow magical beasts on the grounds?"

Before Sir Geroth could answer, Eaubrus lifted his head slightly. "That need not be a concern."

To everyone's amazement, the pup's form began to fade and darken, becoming less solid by the moment. Within seconds, it had completely disappeared, but Tyrus's shadow had noticeably deepened and taken on a more complex shape.

"What the—" Tyrus exclaimed, staring down at his own shadow in shock. "How did you do that?"

"Our bond allows for certain conveniences," Eaubrus's voice explained from within his mind. "Your affinity with the dark element is naturally high, and our connection permits me to inhabit your shadow as if it were a physical space. It is quite comfortable, though admittedly rather small."

Meadow flew closer, circling around Tyrus with a pouting face. "Must be nice to be able to follow Savior around whenever you please. Want to trade places, you mysterious, odd-colored wolf?"

Eaubrus poked his head out of Tyrus shadow and shook his head before slipping back into hiding. Tyrus chuckled, shaking his head in amusement at the earth spirit's antics.

"Meadow," Tyrus said, a thought occurring to him. "Would you... would you want to come with me? I wouldn't mind having another friend along."

A serious expression replaced Meadow's playful one. She flew a small circle around his head before settling to hover at eye level. "Oh, Savior, I was only teasing. I can't leave Wildwood, even if I wanted to."

"Why not?" Tyrus asked, genuinely curious.

"Every spirit is anchored to the specific location of its birth," Meadow explained, her voice taking on an almost instructional tone. "Whether it's a forest, mountain, or lake, we're bound to that place, like a soul tether that keeps us connected to our origin point."

Elder Treant's voice rumbled in agreement. "The young spirit speaks truth. Their existence is entangled with the tether or ambient mana signature of the area where they first came to consciousness."

Meadow nodded. "We spirits are semi-ethereal beings composed of will and mana. Without that specific mana signature from our birthplace, we revert to dormancy or fade entirely. The farther we travel from our anchor point, the weaker we become. The only exception would be if you were a Conjuration Sorcerer. Then I could have asked you for a contract long ago, which would allow me to exist through your mana instead of relying on my anchor. But since you're not..." She trailed off with a small shrug.

Tyrus felt a pang of sympathy for the earth spirit and all others like her, bound to their birthplaces for eternity. "I'm sorry, Meadow. I wish I could help somehow, but I guess I'm useless in that regard."

"No!" Meadow's voice became sharp with reproach as she flew directly in front of his face. "Don't you dare apologize for something like that! There's absolutely nothing to feel bad about. I'm not particularly sad about my lifestyle, you know. I have the entire sanctuary as my domain, beautiful flowers to tend, fellow spirits to chat with, and treants who've become like family to me. And every now and then, I get visits from a certain Savior who brings excitement and adventure right to my doorstep. What more could a spirit ask for?"

Sir Geroth cleared his throat. "Well then, Tyrus? What's your decision about the pup?"

Tyrus glanced down at his shadow, where he could sense Eaubrus' presence waiting patiently for his choice. The logical part of his mind knew there were risks involved; a being with fragmented memories and an unknown past was hardly the safest companion. But something deeper, possibly the bond that Eaubrus had mentioned, told him this was the right choice.

"I'll keep him," Tyrus said firmly. "If he's willing to trust me with his life, then I should be willing to give him a chance to prove himself."

"Thank you," Eaubrus's voice carried genuine gratitude. "I will not disappoint."

Sir Geroth nodded approvingly. "Good. That settles that matter, then." He turned toward Elder Treant. "If I may, Elder Treant, I'd like to request a private word with you about certain developments. It also pertains to the Elder Treant at the Wasteful Wetlands. Tyrus, would you mind waiting outside the sanctuary for a few minutes?"

Though curious about what Sir Geroth wanted to discuss privately, Tyrus nodded. He approached Meadow, who was still hovering nearby. "I should get going, but I promise I'll visit again when I'm not so busy with the academy and everything else."

"You better!" Meadow said before breaking into a smile. "I do miss our exhilarating adventures!"

Tyrus shrugged. "I'll do my best, but I can't make any guarantees. Trouble seems to follow me around these days, so you might get what you wish for soon."

With a final wave to Elder Treant and the remaining spirits, Tyrus made his way back through the sanctuary's protective barrier. Once outside, he found a comfortable spot beneath one of the trees, making sure it wasn't a treant, and settled down to wait.

"Bearer," Eaubrus's voice spoke in his mind almost immediately. "May I ask you something?"

"Sure," Tyrus replied quietly, not wanting to draw attention from any passing forest creatures.

"Why did you trust me? You hardly know me, and, as you said, my past might hold unknown dangers."

Tyrus considered the question seriously. "I don't trust you fully, so don't get that mistaken. Other than that, you helped me when I needed it most. While your intentions may seem selfish, you still vanquished the corrupted mana inside the Wasteful Wetlands and the Whispering Forest. That has to count for something, right?"

"Your faith in me is... unexpected. In the fragments of memory I can access, I sense that trust was not something freely given in my previous existence."

"Well, that could be why you were sealed," Tyrus said thoughtfully. "Maybe whoever you were before wasn't trustworthy, but that doesn't mean you can't be different now. People change. Maybe you, as spirits or mana cores, can also change."

There was a pause before Eaubrus responded. "You speak wisdom beyond your years. For all I know, this second chance at existence is an opportunity to become something better than what I was."

"Speaking of existence," Tyrus said, his curiosity getting the better of him, "what's it like being in my shadow? Can you see what I see? Do you feel cramped?"

"The experience is unique. I can perceive the world through your senses when I choose to, but I can also simply exist in a state of restful darkness. The space itself is neither large nor limited—it conforms to my needs. Think of it as being wrapped in the most comfortable blanket imaginable, with the option to peek outside whenever desired."

"That sounds nice," Tyrus admitted. "Can you leave whenever you want, or are you stuck there?"

"I can emerge at will, though I suspect doing so frequently might draw unwanted attention."

"Do you think other people will be able to sense you?"

"Those with acute senses might detect something unusual, but to most, you should appear no different from before. Your companion, Sir Geroth, for instance, seems focused on other matters at the moment."

Tyrus glanced back toward the sanctuary, wondering what exactly Sir Geroth and Elder Treant were discussing that required such privacy. "I hope everything's okay in there."

Stolen novel; please report.

"The knight seemed troubled by something during my explanation of my transformation. Perhaps he recognizes elements of my past that I cannot yet recall."

"That's what I was thinking, too. Did you notice how his expression changed when you mentioned your name?"

"I did. There was recognition there, though whether it bodes well or ill for us remains to be seen."

Approaching footsteps cut their conversation short. Sir Geroth emerged from the sanctuary, his brows pressed together. Tyrus started to ask what was wrong, but something in Sir Geroth's demeanor made him bite back the question. Whatever the royal knight had discussed with Elder Treant, it was clearly weighing heavily on his mind.

"Ready to go?" Sir Geroth asked, though his tone suggested his thoughts were elsewhere.

"Yeah," Tyrus replied, standing and brushing off his clothes. "Is everything alright?"

Sir Geroth seemed to shake himself out of his brooding. "There are some matters I need to investigate further, but nothing that concerns you directly right now. However, there is something we need to address before returning to the academy."

"What's that?"

"Wanderer's mental manipulation," Sir Geroth said. "The longer we leave those influences in place, the more deeply rooted they may become. I know someone in the capital who specializes in this type of interference."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Tyrus said without hesitation. "I want these voices out of my head as soon as possible and sever my connection with Wanderer, now that I know she is part of Scourge."

Sir Geroth responded approvingly and began leading them back through Wildwood toward the Emerald Hills. They traveled through Wildwood in relative silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Several treants they passed offered greetings to Tyrus, but they seemed to sense the serious nature of their business and didn't delay them with conversation. When they finally reached the edge of the Emerald Hills, Sir Geroth placed a hand on Tyrus's shoulder.

The world blurred, and Tyrus felt the familiar sensation of being pulled through space. When the disorientation cleared, he found himself standing in front of a double door marked with Cecilia's name. Sir Geroth stepped forward and knocked softly; as they waited, Tyrus looked around the place, noting the narrow corridors. A bitter smell intruded his nostrils, and he thought back to the infirmary back at the academy.

"Come in," came a warm, professional voice from within.

They entered to find a spacious room with large windows that let in plenty of natural light. The space was divided into consultation and treatment areas, with comfortable seating and various magical devices arranged along the walls.

What immediately caught Tyrus's attention, however, was a figure lying on one of the beds. Nessa was there, sleeping peacefully, her breathing steady. Sitting beside her in a comfortable chair was a middle-aged woman with graying hair and kind eyes, reading from a thick tome.

The lady—presumably Cecilia—looked up as they entered and smiled warmly at Sir Geroth. "Geroth! It's been too long. How are you holding up? Do I need to patch you up again after another one of your savage training sessions?"

"Well enough these days, thank you," Sir Geroth replied. He gestured toward Tyrus. "Cecilia, this is Tyrus. He's been subjected to some form of mental manipulation that's proving quite persistent."

Cecilia's professional interest was immediately piqued as she studied Tyrus. "A Demi-human? How unusual. Are you adopting him, Geroth?"

Sir Geroth chuckled despite the serious circumstances, then stopped and muttered, "You know, that wouldn't be such a bad idea." He laughed it off and shook his head. "But no, he's a student at the academy. Let me bring you up to speed on his situation."

He explained Wanderer's mental manipulation, the persistent voices and commands, and the apparent depth of the magical interference. Cecilia listened intently, occasionally asking clarifying questions.

"Fascinating," she said when Sir Geroth finished. "It's not every day I encounter a case like this. The fact that the manipulation is both persistent and intelligent suggests a very sophisticated user implanted their spell on the boy. I'd very much like to have a look at what we're dealing with."

She stood and moved to a cabinet along one wall, retrieving what appeared to be a purple bottle and a large, ornate mirror. "The process will require you to be unconscious while I work, so a sleeping potion is needed. This mirror doesn't reflect the physical body, but rather the mind itself. I'll be able to enter your mental landscape and examine the source of the interference directly."

Tyrus looked at the potion with some nervousness. "Is it safe?"

"Completely," Cecilia assured him. "I've performed this procedure plenty of times. The most you'll experience is some discomfort as I work to identify and remove the foreign influences."

"If you say so," Tyrus said, accepting the offered draught.

From Tyrus' shadow, Eaubrus hissed a warning, "Be careful. If this healer delves too deeply, she may discover my presence as well."

Tyrus mentally acknowledged the warning before drinking the sleeping potion. The effect was almost immediate. A warm drowsiness spread through his limbs, and his eyelids grew heavy. Right before he blacked out, he saw Cecilia angling a mirror towards his head; its surface was glowing with an unearthly light.

Time passed in a strange, disconnected way. Tyrus was aware of floating in darkness, neither awake nor asleep. Sometimes, he sensed movement or pressure in his mind, as if someone were carefully examining the contents of his thoughts.

Then, suddenly, pain lanced through his consciousness like a hot iron pressed against his skull. The sensation was so intense that it pulled him partially back toward wakefulness, and he could hear his own voice crying out in distress.

"Easy, easy," Sir Geroth's voice came from somewhere far away. "Hold still, it's almost over."

But the pain only intensified, and Tyrus felt as if his mind were being torn apart from the inside. Through the agony, he heard Cecilia's voice, strained with effort and growing alarm. The pain reached a peak that made Tyrus scream, and then suddenly it was gone. He found himself fully awake, gasping and covered in sweat. Cecilia was on the ground beside her chair, her face contorted with exhaustion and strain.

"Cecilia!" Sir Geroth was immediately at her side, helping her back to her feet.

"I'm alright," she said, though she was clearly shaken. "But I'm afraid I have bad news. Whatever has been used on this young man, it's beyond my ability to remove in a single session. The roots run too deep, and the power behind it is... extraordinary."

Tyrus turned to look at the mirror that had been used for the procedure. Where once it had shown a clear, reflective surface, now it was completely black, as if he were staring into an endless abyss.

Sir Geroth stared at the darkened mirror with a troubled expression. "Could it actually be her?" he muttered, almost to himself.

Cecilia steadied herself against her chair before answering. "I'll have to work on this gradually, chipping away at the interference piece by piece rather than trying to remove it all at once. It will take time—multiple sessions spread over several weeks or months."

"How often?" Tyrus asked.

"Once a week, at minimum. Possibly more frequently if we encounter stubborn areas. Are you willing to commit to that?"

"Absolutely," Tyrus replied without hesitation. "No good will come if I don't deal with this problem now."

Cecilia nodded approvingly. "Good. We'll schedule your next appointment at the same time next week. In the meantime, try to keep track of any changes in the frequency or intensity of the intrusive thoughts. That information will help me target the most problematic areas."

Tyrus thanked the lady for her time and rose out of the bed. He snuck another glance at the black mirror. He grabbed a fistful of blankets, turning his hands into fists at the spectacle before him.

"Do not be too angry with Wanderer," Eaubrus's voice confided in his mind as they exited the infirmary. "There may be good reasons for her actions that you do not yet understand."

"Do you hear what you're hinting?" Tyrus responded mentally. "How could there be a good answer for Wanderer's actions? Even I know messing with someone's mind is not normal."

"Tyrus," the royal knight said, interrupting Tyrus's internal conversation. "I apologize I cannot be of more help with your situation. I'm afraid my talents lie primarily in combat, not healing."

"You've provided plenty of help," Tyrus said, offering Sir Geroth a grateful but somewhat shy smile. "Thank you for looking after me through all of this."

Sir Geroth smirked, nodding at Tyrus. "Let's get you back to the Explorer's Guild. Come on, let's go."

***

Warden Nathero stood near the teleportation gate, his bald head shining like a mirror underneath a sun beam. "About time you lot showed up. Any later and you'd have had to find your own way back to the academy. Not that I'd mind seeing you struggle with the consequences of poor time management."

"We're here on time, aren't we? You should cut us some slack," Fiona replied politely.

"Barely," Nathero muttered. "Well, don't just stand there chattering. Through the portal with you. And try not to cause any more incidents than absolutely necessary once you're back at the academy."

One by one, they stepped through the shimmering portal. Tyrus stepped through last, feeling the familiar sensation of travel as the world shifted around him. When his vision cleared, he found himself back in the academy's teleportation chamber.

Time seemed to move in a blur. Everyone else bid each other a goodnight, knowing full well that classes resumed in the morning. After yesterday, it would be best to get as much rest as possible. Tyrus agreed full-heartedly and was one of the first to leave the group.

Tyrus walked back to his room in contemplative silence. The events of the past few days felt almost surreal in retrospect. Discovering the artifact's true nature, the failed attempt to cleanse Wanderer's influence, the promise of ongoing treatment with Cecilia. He never expected that whatever Wanderer did to him in the past was too much for a healer at the palace to handle. It only made his situation all the more bizarre to come to terms with.

Returning to his room, Tyrus did the usual routine of taking a bath and changing into a new set of garments. He set aside his Scourge ring on a nearby desk and settled onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling with a dazed look on his face.

A few days ago, his biggest concern had been keeping up with his classes and avoiding trouble with his professors and peers. Now, he had to worry about not overly exerting his mana heart and Scourge practically breathing down on his neck. It was a miracle he was still standing here today, and even more so in a much more favorable position than he ever expected. Never in a million years did he think he'd be lying on a soft bed in one of the most prestigious academies in the empire.

"You seem deep in thought," Eaubrus observed quietly from within his shadow.

"Just thinking about how different everything is now," Tyrus said. He shifted onto his side, pulling his blanket closer. "You know, before all this magic stuff started happening to me, I was living in an abandoned shack in a forest. I spent my days looking for scraps of food in trash bins and alleyways, trying to stay out of everyone's way. And even before that, I wandered from place to place for as long as I could remember."

"That sounds like a harsh existence for someone so young."

"I guess. I never knew where my next meal was coming from. Sometimes I'd go days eating nothing but stale bread or scraps from tavern kitchens if I couldn't complete a hunt. I had to steal just to survive, and I was always looking over my shoulder, wondering if someone was going to catch me or hurt me."

He paused, remembering the bleak nights when he'd huddle in doorways with nothing but rags to keep him warm, the way most people would cross the street to avoid looking at him.

"I used to dream about having a proper bed," he continued, running his hand over the soft sheets beneath him. "A warm place to sleep every night, regular meals, maybe even a friend or two. It seemed impossible back then."

"And now?"

"Now look at me," Tyrus said, a note of wonder creeping into his voice. "I'm in Valis Academy of Sorcery. I have a warm room, three meals a day, and a few friends who actually care about what happens to me."

Tyrus was quiet for a moment, thinking about that. "Still, sometimes I can't help but wonder if I deserve all this. There are probably hundreds of kids who are smarter than me, but they'll never get a chance like this. I still feel like I'm living in someone else's life. Like I'm going to wake up one day and find myself back in those alleyways, hungry and alone."

"But then I remember all the people who helped me get here, who took a chance on someone like me. I owe them everything. They gave me a chance when no one else would. They saw potential in me that I didn't even know I had. The least I can do is make sure I don't waste the opportunity they've given me."

He stared at the moonlight filtering through his window, casting gentle patterns across his room. "No matter how complicated things get with Wanderer's influence, or Scourge hunting me, or whatever other problems come up, I can't let any of it ruin what I've been given. Either way, I'm not going anywhere. This is my life now, and I'm going to make the most of it."

"Your determination is admirable. Joining you was the correct choice."

"You don't know that," Tyrus muttered. He closed his eyes, already beginning to feel drowsy. "Whatever is thrown my way, I'll find a way to succeed. Whether it's an unscalable mountain or a bottomless ocean, I'll find a path to the summit or the seabed. If there's one thing I'll remember, it's taking whatever actions are required for the best life I can achieve. Mediocrity is the floor, but greatness is the ceiling, and I'm building my staircase one step at a time."

Though Tyrus saw Wanderer in a different light, he would still be grateful that she kicked things off for him by helping him become a sorcerer. But knowing her true nature, it was time to shift that gratitude into something else. For now, focusing on what was in front of him was his top priority.

Nothing would ruin this chance of achieving his dreams.