A Testament Of The Dark Magician

Roland was suddenly alerted to the old man standing gingerly by the throne. The old fellow cleared his raspy throat before a slight smile pulled against his wrinkled features. 

"Roland Smoke, son of the late Lady Diane. The main house welcomes you." The Elder performed a timid bow. Roland winced, seeing the old bones struggling to lift himself back to his frame again. 

All the while, the Patriarch's hollow gaze never left him. And underneath the scowl of someone so strong. Roland could never relax. 

'Tsk! What's his problem, why's he looking at me like that.' He was still expecting the Patriarch to continue where he started, but instead, the old man addressed him. 

"My name is Lord Vulcan. You may not remember me, but I have heard and seen a lot about you. Let me first say that the terrible misfortune regarding your sudden coma, coupled with your mother's passing, was truly a disastrous tragedy. We mourn the great warrior she was each day."

His voice sounded old, but his words felt odd to listen to. Roland remembered a group of people back in his old world who used to annoy him with similar gimmicks. Wracking his brain trying to remember, he was sure they were called… 

'Lawyers.' 

"You must be wondering what business we have with you? As a member of the branch family, your affiliation with Lady Diane puts you in a precarious position. And whilst you are very welcome here, there is a law we have with branch members living in the main house." 

Roland's eyes twitched a little, as he predicted. The next string of words he heard together confirmed his suspicions about this impromptu gathering. 

"Unless by marriage to a highborn family or… through the military service within the cloud kingdoms army. There is nothing we can do about this law. Regretfully." 

The Elder lowered his gaze in sadness. 

Roland sneered inside; he turned towards the Patriarch, whose face hadn't changed for a single moment. He could only sigh to himself once he considered his predicament. The picture was clearer to him now regarding what his so called family envisioned for him. 

'Between that scary woman's cryptic proposal. The options between the army or forced marriage to God knows who. Whichever way I swayed would make me a slave to someone.' 

The last thing he desired was to bind himself in shackles to the whims of crazy people. He already swore an oath to himself and this body's original wearer. No one will stop him from living out his life the way he intended to live it. 

Roland reflected darkly on the last piece of advice Lord Brutus gave to him. 

"You will find no friends within those walls, young one. Be vigilant. And grow stronger, quickly." 

There was only one viable option at this point anyway: the path that offered him a slightly less forced-on leash. 

He looked at the empty air just before him before he pressed his narrowed gaze towards the two fellows again. The fear in his heart had all but disappeared as Roland parted his mouth and said.

"I'd rather join the army…if that's alright with you." 

Both elder Vulcan and the Patriarch's looks were taken by surprise. Roland remained firm in his stance. He never shied away from his beliefs despite the colossal gulf in powers between him and these men. He wasn't going to back down. 

The Patriarch finally moved against his throne. His two hands motioned against the armrest, and Roland was sure he saw countless veins writhing beneath his skin once his hands clenched. 

The grey and black-haired fellow softly brought his eyelids together. 

Roland heard him snigger and flinched. 

"The army? Boy, it seems your arrogance knows no bounds, and my patience wears thinner than you could ever imagine."

The Patriarch's gaze slowly flickered open. Within his eyes danced a peculiar swash of pure gold. The moment Roland met its profound gaze, the most terrible pressure crashed on top of his body. A whirling sound ensued, followed by the actual air vibrating as though a large turbine had been turned on full blast. 

Roland's eyes shot open in a desperate flash. The air around him had turned so thin he couldn't breathe. His legs threatened to buckle again. He was going to be forcefully seated against the ground. But what could he do to stop it? Nothing. He was just an iron-ranked body. 

'Iron…ranked.' Those words resonated across his mind like a sharp cymbal. He was an iron body now; not so long ago, he was a stone. Fear was the mind-killer; submission was the reward for allowing it to win. He bit his lower lip down so harsh blood trickled down his chin. Roland clenched his two fists until his knuckles paled and braced himself with everything he had. 

{Warning! Air pressure plummeting! Host in danger risk of internal damage!} 

The sounds of bones crunching echoed against the murmuring vibration of the air. Roland could actively feel the blood beneath his skin boiling. He had mere seconds before his body gave out. But rather manically, he preferred to die rather than submit to these people. 

Roland remained in the same stance. His two hands held his knees as the eventual outcome drew ever nearer. The Patriarch continued to behold him with those same golden eyes, refusing to relent. Roland saw nothing short of coldness through them. And that pissed him off even more. 

'Shit, if this is it! Then…then bring it! Damn Bully! Bring it! Go on, let's go!'

By now, he could feel warm liquid trickling out of his orifices. And his bones were on the verge of literally breaking. 

"Guaaaargh!" A throat-curdling scream roared from Roland's mouth. His vision darkened almost immediately. And whilst he fell helplessly to the ground. His hazy vision was at least glad to see the smug look against the patriarch's face, withering away as he fell. 

 Other POV 

The boy lay still against the ground. There was a small pool of blood gathered beneath his head. Soma could hardly fathom what had just occurred, and for the first time in as long as he could remember, he held no words to say.

Elder Vulcan swiftly clomped his cane forward until he reached the boy. He lightly prodded his back. Then he twisted his old neck from side to side and said. 

"Pick him up, take him to the healers. See, he receives an anti-Ki inflammatory potion. Go on, be quick about it." 

The shadows against the walls sprung into action. In a breath, three shadowy clothed figures appeared against a single knee before the Elder. And suppose Roland had been awake to see this. In any case, he might've recognized the very familiar style of their clothes along with the obscure turquoise mask they all wore. 

The three death knights scooped him up before vanishing again. Soma's gaze stiffened out of annoyance. 

"When the hell did that brat get stronger?" The Patriarch voiced with venom. 

Vulcan held no immediate response to that. He studied his thoughts for a short while before he decided to respond. 

"It… shouldn't be possible. I was the one who confirmed he was a cripple during the very first awakening ceremony. Someone born with the low talent he possessed wouldn't find it easy within any stretch of the imagination to advance…unless." 

"Unless what?" Probed the Patriarch 

"Heh- unless he encountered some divine healer or ate a one-of-a-kind elixir. I'd imagine both things are as common as sighting a unicorn." 

The Patriarch thought deeply about this. He had lived a long life and seen perhaps most of the terrors and miracles this world could yield. 

"Tsk, That fool Brutus. It seems he's more tactical than we give him credit for. No matter, have someone monitor the boy closely. I'll know how to handle him." 

Vulcan nodded and proceeded gingerly towards the door. He stopped halfway and slowly turned around to face the Patriarch. 

"And what if the boy resists our plans for him?" 

"Then we deal with him the same way we deal with hurdles in our way." 

Roland POV 

"H-huh!" 

Roland gasped awake and found himself staring at a tall white ceiling. 

'Where am I?' His first thoughts. Until he combed his gaze over the four-walled room and quickly discovered he was lying against a white bed. His shirt was missing, and his trousers were also missing from the gentle breeze brushing over his pelvis. 

Roland frowned as he attempted to remind himself of the memories prior to this awakening. Luckily, he could count on Omega to bluntly remind him. 

'Ah, right, that's what happened.'

He could still vividly picture those devilish golden eyes bearing upon him with a domineering aura. That Patriarch, his supposed grandfather, was strong. Ridiculously strong, for that matter. 

'I guess I overdid it ay.'

He could only laugh at himself. A new world didn't erase his recklessness. 

'How many times have I heard someone say, 'That might kill me.' Heh-heh, I should start taking that advice seriously. 

Roland was under no illusion his earlier actions were suicidal. But he couldn't allow himself to be subjected to that humiliation openly. A soft breeze gently flowed into the foreign room he had miraculously spawned into. 

He heard a door being closed, followed by footsteps quickening inside. 

Omega's warning was a second late. He pried himself upright to a seated position and stared curiously at the new face standing at his door. 

'Huh? Who the hell is this?' 

A young girl with peculiar silver hair. 

Her almond-shaped eyes were fountain blue, and she beheld him with a strange wonder framed behind those bright eyes. She wore her long silver hair down so it almost sparkled with a rich, silky lustre beneath the room light as it fell against her shoulders. 

Roland was taken aback by how much of a perfect doll she looked like. Her dress was short, and she wore an unbuttoned dark blue blazer. His gaze trailed along the open cut where the top of her chest was noticeably visible. 

"Hi." 

Her gentle voice startled him free from his crude thoughts. 

Roland felt his face go warm and immediately shifted his eyes elsewhere. 

'Damnit, get a hold of yourself! She's probably a lot younger than you. Tsk! Pervert.' He frowned, remembering his actual age, at least 3/4 years older than these young faces running around. 

Roland carefully shifted his attention to the nameless girl, who obviously had no sense of politeness. At the same time, she strolled around the room, touching things. And for a short while, she never said anything else and simply poked or stroked the different ornaments or miscellaneous objects around. 

Her expressionless gaze curiously darted around the room until they fell against a particular corner. Roland followed the trail of her gaze. He furrowed his brows together, wondering what caught her attention about the vase of freshly trimmed flowers on the bedside to the left. 

'Flowers? Why's she staring at flowers like th-' 

Before he could finish his thoughts, a sharp voice cut through the air. 

"Who brought you those?" 

The abruptness of the question startled him for a second. Roland beheld the strange girl in silence for a short moment, wondering which side of the hate train she fell on before he answered. 

"I…I don't know?" His voice croaked against the dryness of his throat. 

The girl blinked a few times before her azure gaze found him again. 

"Hm, is it true then? Do you really not remember?" 

Roland felt an unease moving through his body strangely.

'Remember what? Crap, I really wish I knew who she was.'

He thought to himself. On the outside, he merely sat there in silence, choosing his next words carefully. He purposely shifted his eyes away in deep thought before slowly returning his gaze with a bewildered look drawn across it. 

"I'm sorry, I…I can't remember who you are." Said Roland brokenly. 

The girl's willow brows lifted out of surprise and fell. And a slight smile pulled at the corners of her veal-coloured lips. 

"I see" she muttered. Once those words flowed through her delicately shaped mouth,. Roland heard a voice that swiftly placed him on high alert. 

{Warning! High levels of radiation detected! Warning!} 

The girl's hand dropped low and shuffled beneath the hem of her blazer. She pulled out a polished wand from the waistband of her skirt and pointed it directly at Roland. 

A tiny white light sat on the very end of the wand. Roland's eyes could hardly blink, watching a surge of pale particles begin converging into a single point. He heard the sounds of several pieces of ice crackling.

Despite the sudden turn of events, Roland sat momentarily dazed by the idea of a magic wand being pointed directly at him.