Chapter 1
No. 114 was nothing special, at least not compared to the other 99 type "B" black mages. They were all uniform in their production, every stitch of fabric, every bit of magic and power and every part of their programmed thought were victims of the product line standard. No. 114 was nothing special, or at least he thought so.
But no. 114 knew that the type "B"'s were special compared to type "A" black mages. He had once listened to a guard point out the differences in their production: Type "A"'s were physically stronger than type "B"'s but lacked in magical power and abilities which type "B"'s were specially made with.
No. 114 had never seen a type "A".
No.114 never saw much at all. His world was dark, cold and sometimes rather damp. Small oil lamps were hung on the ceiling and the walls creating a weak and dim light and water would drip from the ancient stone ceiling that the entire room was made of. He was kept in a storage facility for unused mages, a square underground room where the 100 type "B"'s sat in rows, they were unpackaged and activated back when it was believed they'd be needed for a second wave of attack. When they decided not to use them they were put here so they would be fresh for a different attack.
No. 114 didn't know what that was supposed to mean.
The black mages would all just sit there; they didn't look around, they never readjusted their weight, they never seemed to acknowledge anything. So that was what no. 114 did, it seemed like that was what he was supposed to do. He would sit there in his row, a row away from one of the wall edges where guards would pass by. He sat there all day. Once a day they were given food so they would keep running. No. 114 didn't like the food much; it was always old, moldy and stale and always made a strange discomfort in his mouth and stomach when he ate it. Then after sitting a long while his eyes would feel heavy, then he'd wake up to start the cycle over again.
No. 114 didn't like doing this, but he enjoyed watching the guards.
The room was never without guards. No. 114 didn't know how he knew what they were and didn't understand why they were there. Every time he woke up four guards with pale faces and puffy eyes would leave out a door and were instantly replaced with four more. The same thing happened when the food came and when no. 114's eyes became heavy. When the new guards came they were accompanied by what no.114 believed to be a newer model of guards. She wore more and better armor than the others and the hair that sprouted from above their pale faces seemed different on her than the others. She would come in, tell each one of the guards to stand in different corners of the room, say something about "what was going on" or something about "the queen" and would occasionally give out some advice. Orders, information, advice.
No. 114 was sure she was a newer model of these guards.
All the guards seemed as uniform as the black mages at first glance. But no. 114 would look at them a lot, in secret of course. He had noticed the differences between them. They were all almost uniform in their shape, physical form and attire but each had small and unique differences. They had different hair and eye colours, they sometimes had very small marks on their bodies and they all had different faces. He also noticed that they would tell each other apart from their differences.
No. 114 wondered how anyone would be able to tell the different type "B"'s apart.
No. 114 wondered if his face looked different from the others.
More than anything, no. 114 loved to listen to the guards talk to one another. They never stayed in the corners of the room like they were told; they would always pair up and start chatting while glancing around the room every few minutes. No. 114 would listen but he never really understood what they were talking about. He kept a growing vocabulary of words he didn't understand from the conversations and would repeat them over and over in his head when no one was speaking in hopes of finally understanding their meanings. But some words he would hear would startle him, because somewhere far away he couldn't reach... he understood their meanings and was struggling to reach it. "Attack", "empire", "invasion", "battle", "resistance", "enemy", "army" and "kill". His mind struggled to understand them, to reach that part of his mind where the words had meanings.
No. 114 didn't understand why he would know the meanings to those words.
The weirdest things about those words was that, while the guards spoke of these things they would hush their voices and glance around the room of black mages as though expecting something to happen.
No. 114 wondered what they were expecting to happen...
But the guards kept on talking and no. 114 kept struggling with the meanings of their words. He had to try his best not to move because the others didn't. And he kept listening.
"I heard that her highness is finally sending those other mages to Burmecia for the attack."
"Just now? Geez, what took them so long?"
"She wanted to attack after the princess' birthday but then we went missing during that shooting...."
"Wasn't she on the ship?"
"Yeah, and the Queen shot at it! Can you believe that? She endangered the princess, everyone there and the castle."
"Yeah... hey wait a minute..."
"Huh? What?"
"Wasn't there a... no, never mind."
"..Okay. Hey, I thought you were going to go to Burmecia for the invasion..."
"Oh yeah, but I got stuck here."
"Ha, ha, ha... right."
No. 114 had been sitting for a long time. He started to find it difficult to move at all now. A simple sift of weight shot pain up his spine and made a horrible pounding in his head.
"Wasn't the Queen keeping the attack plans and the black mages secret from the princess?"
"Ha, ha, ha... it must have been a birthday surprise for the princess!"
"Heh, yeah but... do you think the princess suspected her?"
"Huh?"
"Well, you know... she DID take off."
"Naw, she was kidnapped!"
"But then, why has no one been sent out to get her?"
"They already set something out."
"'Something'? Whattaya mean?"
"Black Waltzes."
"Black what?"
No. 114's head started to feel numb. His head was taking way too much in it started to hurt. Nothing ever changed but the conversations. Day after day the same thing. Wake up, new guards, sit, eat, new guards, sit more, eyes feel heavy, new guards, wake up. No.114 didn't know what was past the door, where did the guards go? Where did they come from? What was past the door? What was past the door...?
"I didn't know Zorn and Thorn worked with stuff like that! I thought they were just jesters!"
"I know, but they do some pretty weird stuff."
"Didn't they just come a year ago?"
"Yeah, just before the King died, why?"
"Where were they before that?"
"Beats me, maybe from some small town or something. Maybe you should ask them."
"Ha, ha, yeah: 'Hey Zorn and Thorn, did you guys come from a small town or something?' 'We didn't come from a small town!' 'Came from small town we did not!'"
"Ha, ha, ha, ha! That sounds just like them!"
No. 114 started to hate sitting there. On top of his numb head and bodily pains he had an extremely uncomfortable burning under his gloves. But he couldn't understand why....
"Geez, this gives me the creeps."
"What does?"
"Being in here with all these black mages... I mean, look at them! They all just sit there in those lines, never moving, barely breathing... They scare me so much!"
"Why?"
"Well... Oh, you know. They're so powerful what if one just snapped and started attacking us?"
"Are you kidding!? They're black mages!"
"What do you mean?"
"They don't do anything unless they're told! I mean, we tell them to sit there all day and they sit, we tell them to eat crap food and they eat it. They're empty, there's nothing inside them, they're like puppets and we are the puppeteers."
No. 114 understood that. Every word.
No. 114 stopped listening, he stopped thinking about words or the pain attacking him because hearing that had made him realize something. There was nothing to tell him apart from the others, there was nothing different between him and the others, there was nothing special about him except... a number. No. 114. The 114th black mage made, of the "B" type.
114. 114. 114. 114. 114. 114. 114. 114. 114. 114.
No. 114 suddenly realized that his face looked the same as every other black mage.
He was nothing.
No. 114.
Just a number.