Fate of Mind

Demons surrounded us on all sides, their mouths open and ready to eat us. I could see the Demon King's castle in the distance. 

This was it. I needed to ensure Artemisia arrived at the castle.

I knew what I needed to do.

      "Artemisia!" I yelled. "Come!"

      Artemisia pushed the nearest demon off of her, placing the flat of her blade against it and shoving with all of her strength. A disgusting creature. Way too many horns protruded from its body, sharp and wicked. Not much different from the others. They were built to destroy.

      She ran toward me.

      I reached toward her, and she did the same for me. Her hand slid into mine, and I yanked her behind me. I chanted the spell. A bubble of blue light appeared around her and caged her in, protecting her from the demons surrounding us and what I was going to do.

      That done, I chanted another spell to push all the monsters away from me. A rush of air swept them all away as if a large arm had come down. As soon as I finished that spell, I started the next one. This one was longer, more complicated. No mistakes or it would backfire, and that could raze the entire area.

      The magic within me began poured from me to charge the spell. I felt something wet run down from my nose as my magic reached dangerously low levels. This was unexpected. The curse was much stronger than I had thought.

For a previous failure, the king of the gods had taken most of my power. Made me half mortal. I was still immortal and could wield magic stronger than most mortals, but I could not do the spells that I had been able to before. I would be in trouble if I continued this one, but I couldn't stop. If I failed, Artemisia would die.

      I fought the urge to look back at her one last time as I completed the spell. A flash of blinding light shone from my body and out toward the monsters. They burst into ashes before dispersing in the wind.

      As the light faded, all energy left my body. I fell to one knee. My hand reached out to catch me, and the weakened muscles in my arm nearly buckled. My lungs felt like they were on fire. My body struggled to keep itself operating. Too little of its driving force remained.

      "Mentor!" Artemisia cried. She skidded to a stop next to me, her roving eyes examining me.

I gave her my best reassuring smile. This was how it was supposed to be. "Artemisia. Ever since I found you, you have been my light. Always. Watching you grow has been the greatest gift I could have ever received."

      "You shouldn't be talking like you're going to die, Mentor! Please! I can't do this without you!"

      I caught a glimpse of my hand. The fingers had begun to turn black. The lack of magic in my body had already started to cause its decay. I focused on Artemisia's face.

      "Shhh. It's okay,” I said. "You're strong enough even without me. You can do this. Besides, didn't you say mentors are always fated to die?"

      The joke fell flat. Panic entered her expression. "Not you! Never you."

      Then she grabbed me. Without uttering a spell, without saying a word, I felt a rush of magic enter my body.

      "Artemisia? Artemisia! Stop this instant!"

      She didn't answer me, just held onto me as her magic poured into me. I wasn't strong enough anymore to push her away. My body greedily soaked up the magic she offered against my will, aching to continue moving. To continue living. Even if it meant I would sacrifice the one thing that I cared about the most.

      "Artemisia! No! Please!"

      She was strong, but she wouldn't be able to fill my magic reserves. While the color had returned to my fingers, hers had begun to blacken. Her face, so close to mine, formed hairline cracks in it. She smiled, and cracks formed on her cheeks.

      I begged and pleaded, but the terrible magic transfer didn't stop. I tried to struggle out of her grip, but she held on tightly. Then the magic ebbed and then stopped. Her grip on me slackened, and she slumped against me.

      "Artemisia?"

      She was silent. Far too silent.

      "Artemisia!" I eased down her so I could cradle her in my arms. Her eyes were closed, but that cracked smile remained. "No! Please!" I repeated those two words over and over. I smoothed the hair out of her face. My fingers and eyes searched for any signs of life. No heartbeat. No breath. The cracks on her skin made her seem like a dried-out husk. Not a person who had been living and breathing and fighting just moments ago.

      I had known a mortal's life was finite. But not like this.

      The world around me became muted. I couldn't get enough air.

      How had the others been able to withstand this? To watch as the children they had raised to fight their battles fought and died while they did next to nothing? I felt something inside me break. I hugged Artemisia close to me. I wanted to hug her tighter, but I was afraid. So afraid that she would turn into dust like the monsters and fly away.

      With the magic she gave me, I teleported back to our home. I tried to give the magic back. I tried to pour it into her body, but she didn't take it. If my body had been like a sponge sucking hers up, hers was like a wall.

      I remembered all the times she had laughed with me, at me. Her voice changed as she aged. The first time she had taken her first steps. The first time she had swung a sword. Climbed a tree. All the memories rushed through my head. It felt like my head was going to split open.

      I gritted my teeth. I wanted to scream, to cry out. My child! My daughter! I had never even told her.

      "Mentors are supposed to die, aren't they? For the sake of the hero's growth?" She had asked.

      "I suppose so," I had answered. "It's an inescapable fate that mentors are supposed to die before the hero. Just like parents die before their children. If that fate ever broke, I can't imagine how that would feel."

      I could feel it now. Immortal I was. Cursed. But not invulnerable. I knew I would die before the end of her journey. I had accepted it. It was what she had needed. I hadn't expected that she would take my fate as her own.

      At some point, I had collapsed on the floor in a heap. I turned my cheek so the cool floorboards could cool down a body that felt too hot. I felt as if I was outside of myself, but at the same time all too aware of my pain. I wanted to die too.

      But I couldn't. Not with the gift she had given me.

      I lifted a hand and put it over my heart. I wanted to cry, but my eyes were dry. I wanted to scream, but my mouth felt welded shut. All the pain felt trapped inside with nowhere to go.

      I heard the door to our home open. "What a sorry state you're in, Promenan."

      I flinched at the name. Artemisia and the woman at the door had called me "Mentor" for so long that my name - my true name - felt alien. So didn't respond. 

      "What are you going to do now? You had raised her to destroy the Demon King, didn't you? But you've failed."

      My fist slammed into the floor. "Shut UP!" My voice didn't sound like mine. It sounded angry and spiteful even to my ears. I finally turned to look at the owner of the voice. "Bathory, I swear. I will end you if you don't just shut up for once!"

      How could she even think about that right now? Forget the Demon King. If she wanted the Demon King dead, she could destroy him herself.

      Wait, if he was such a threat, why didn't she destroy them herself? Why hadn't I?

      "We aren't supposed to interfere directly in the world of mortals," she said.

      I hadn't realized I had spoken out loud until she said that, so I spoke more. "But we can raise children. Send them on quests to get items we've made or have had made and have them fight and die for us? What sense does this make?"

      Bathory's eyes narrowed. "That's a dangerous line of thought, Promenan."

      “Why?” I asked. “Because of fate? We are already interfering!" I finally stood and stepped between her and Artemisia.

      I could see the hurt in her expression. “Fate gives us all purpose. You know as well as I do that if we interfere too much, this world can die.”

      “It wasn’t her fate to die!” I yelled. “What use is fate if it can’t make sure the right people die.”

      "This was your last chance!" Bathory shouted back. "Do you know the king of the gods could kill you? Make you mortal?"

      I didn't care, so I didn't answer that. I suddenly felt so tired. "Please leave, Bathory." I said instead.

      "You know, the Demon King's heart can supposedly grant any wish," she said.

      I turned away from her and looked down at Artemisia. She had never been so still. Not even when she was sleeping. I wanted to believe that she was just sleeping, but I knew. I could not avoid the terrible truth.

      I heard the door slam shut hard enough to shake the entire house.

      A part of me knew Bathory was mourning too. She would often come and visit Artemisia and myself. At first, she had done it to watch me like the king of the gods requested. However, she did it more and more without giving an explanation.

      I mulled over what she had said. If this kept up, the Demon King truly would destroy everything. Trample over even the memories of Artemisia. I couldn't let that happen.

      I pondered on what I could do. Then I planned.

      Destroying the Demon King had been much easier than I thought. I had cast preservation magic on Artemisia's body before I executed my plan. I had waited until my magic returned piece by piece. It merged with the magic Artemisia had given me, giving me the power of a hero that was needed to destroy him.

      It was easy. I wanted to weep at how easy it was. Almost as if to mock all of the training Artemisia had done to get here.

Unlike what I had expected, nothing happened. The king of the gods didn't come down personally to smite me. Not that he would get off of his throne for anything he didn't absolutely need to do. I found myself questioning why I had been so afraid in the first place. Was fate just a state of mind after all?

Not that it mattered. All that mattered was Artemisia.

      As I looked down at the Demon King's decaying corpse, I remembered what Bathory had said about his heart. I reached into his chest and extracted it. It was a dark purple gem. How could I make a wish with it?

      I just wanted to see Artemisia. Smiling and laughing again.

      My magic seeped into the heart. Not as much as a spell, but still there.

      I tried again. Thought with all my heart, and said, "I want Artemisia to live again!"

      The heart sucked my magic in, stronger this time until it shone with a dark light. Artemisia's body appeared behind it. I reached out a hand toward her, but something unseen blocked my way. Slowly, the heart entered her body, and she took a deep breath.

      She opened her eyes - she opened her eyes and stared at me, uncomprehending. "Mentor?"

      It was the sweetest sound. I caught her as she fell and hugged her tight to me. The tears I hadn’t been able to shed before fell now. I would never let her get hurt like that again.