Episode Thirteen
The Strong and Fragile Soul, Waking From a Dream?
A sound soul
dwells within a sound mind,
and a sound body.
When the stainless steel door opened again, Liir was expecting to see Marie coming back for round two. Instead, he saw the Weapon who had given him so much trouble outside of the laboratory. Maybe he was back for round two.
"To what do I owe this unexpected displeasure?" Liir asked.
"Shut it, Witch! I'm not here to make small talk; I'm here to make a deal so listen very carefully because I don't like to repeat myself. I don't give a shit about the plans the DWMA has for you or magic tools or any of that. My friend is dying and you can help him. If I bust you out of here, you're going to lift the curse, understood?" Vyse asked.
"How do I know I can trust you?" Liir asked.
"I knocked them unconscious so they won't stop me. That should count for something. If that's not enough then you'll just have to take a risk," Vyse said.
"How do you know as soon as you let me out of this room I won't fly the coop?" Liir asked. Vyse pulled out a small electronic object from his pocket and held it up.
"All I have to do is push this button and an alarm will sound sending every Weapon and Meister in the place to come and get you. You'll never make it out of here alive if you don't do what I say," Vyse explained.
"I'm impressed. It seems you've thought of everything," Liir observed.
"Are you interested in getting out of here or not? We don't have all day that sleep powder they inhaled only lasts a few minutes," Vyse explained. Liir had heard enough. He was out of his seat and on his way out of the door. Vyse led him out of his stainless steel prison and, as he said, Stein, Merios and Marie were all on the floor unconscious. There was a smell in the air of the residual powder. Liir pulled his shirt over his nose as they continued through the room and out into the dungeon.
"Aren't you going to get in all kinds of trouble for letting me out?" Liir asked.
"That's not your problem so don't worry about it," Vyse snapped.
"You seem to have recovered well from the wound that I gave you. That would have killed most people," Liir said. Vyse turned and looked up at Liir as he walked and then glanced at his abdomen where he had dealt him a wound of his own.
"Both of us were fortunate that Merios was around to use his healing wavelength," Vyse said.
"What's your story, Vyse. You're not just a student at the Academy. I don't buy that for a second. A student couldn't match me in a fight or pull off this impromptu stunt," Liir questioned.
"I'm an assassin, okay. My skills exist beyond that of just your average run-of-the-mill Weapon. I'm kind of like you in that way," Vyse said.
"You're nothing like me," Liir hissed. He never wanted to be compared to anyone who had anything to do with the DWMA. Vyse just shook his head.
"Whatever. Shut up until we get to the infirmary. When we're walking in the hall just avoid eye contact and don't talk to anyone. But act natural. Most of the people at this Academy have no idea who you are or what you look like," Vyse said.
"Got it," Liir confirmed.
"We have to hurry. Lord Death could see us from his mirror at any given moment," Vyse said. Liir's eyebrows went up. The Reaper must be powerful indeed to watch over the world from his mirror. Nothing escapes the gaze of Death itself. The endless staircases of the dungeon would have taken hours for Liir to navigate since he did not know where he was going. Fortunately, Vyse seemed to know exactly which to turn to take so he followed closely.
So many times the opportunity to strike the little Weapon in the back presented itself but Liir, for some reason, contained himself. There was really no reason to jeopardize his escape and Vyse seemed like he would be true to his word. If it came to it, Liir was pretty fast. He trusted his ability to find his way out the front door and get away.
The polished marble floors of the school was lavish and impressive. It was no small wonder that the DWMA was so prestigious by reputation. Liir wasn't sure what day it was because of how long he was unconscious and he had never asked his captors about what date it was. It must have been a day when classes were not in because all of the open doors that showed the classrooms and lecture halls were empty and the lights were off.
"Okay. The school nurse and the Reaper's son might be in there. If they are, I'm going to throw another one of these sleep bombs to knock them out. As long as you keep your face covered like mine, you should be able to breathe without difficulty. Don't worry about it getting in your eyes either—it's perfectly harmless. It will just make your vision slightly blurry for a few seconds," Vyse explained. Liir nodded.
He couldn't believe his dumb luck at escaping. Who knew he could count on a convert assassin with a soft spot for a DWMA Meister to bust him out of his cell with sleep bombs and ninja skills. It seemed a little too contrived. Could the whole thing be a ruse? Surely it could not. He had, after all, thrown a sleep bomb at his teachers just do this. He was certainly keeping his eyes out as if he expected to be stopped at any moment.
Liir ruled out the possibility when they arrived at the infirmary. Vyse listened outside for voices and let out a heavy sigh. He had been holding his breath. He opened the door and motioned for Liir to follow. Luckily, the infirmary was empty save for the Meister who appeared to be sleeping peacefully in his bed.
He looked down at the young man and found himself taking pity on him. Pity was not a feeling that Liir was used to feeling and it made him uncomfortable. Still, he felt that he was somehow linked with Tsarevich if even on a subconscious level. He had killed him for all practical purposes, and now this kid was going to save him.
"Alright…do what you need to do," Vyse said. Liir stepped forward and put his hand on Tsarevich's forehead. He murmured the counter curse under his breath. It was much more elaborate and lengthy than the curse itself and had to be lifted carefully so as not to injure the victim. He was unsure why he had bothered to create the counter curse in the first place as showing mercy to his enemies was not something that he was accustomed to, but he liked to be in control of situations if at all possible. If he made a decision he regretted, he liked having the power to undo it.
In this case it wasn't regret. The curse on Tsarevich's wavelength was collateral for escape. As he began to lift it, he felt the pity and the sense of connection with the kid start to diminish and he was glad for it. He didn't like people probing at the soft spots inside his heart. That's where he was most vulnerable.
"Whoa! What's happening to this place?" Tsarevich said. The ground—well the void that they were walking on—was shaking violently to the point that it was getting hard to maintain balance. The doors inside the hallway were dissolving like candle wax under a flamethrower. He and Liir were standing there trying to find a childhood memory when they place they were started to break down.
"It's time to say goodbye, Tsarevich," Liir said.
"What's happening? Am I dying?" Tsarevich asked.
"No. I'm lifting the curse off of you and that means that our connection is going to be severed," Liir explained.
"You're lifting the curse? Why?" Tsarevich asked.
"Because I want to ultimately. It's working out to my advantage to let you live," Liir explained.
"That doesn't make any sense but thank you. I didn't really want to die," Tsarevich said.
"No. Who does? I hope that you live your life well. I don't think that you will remember any of this when you wake up," Liir said.
"You mean all the time that we spent together is just going to vanish?" Tsarevich asked.
"Well it's not going to vanish. It's just going to recede deep inside of your subconscious," Liir said.
"I suppose that it will be the same for you then too," Tsarevich observed.
"Yes, it will, I'm afraid," Liir replied sadly. Tsarevich could not believe that he was thinking this but he was going to miss Liir's company. Over what seemed like years they had grown accustomed to each other's presence and even became amicable with each other.
"Maybe things will be different in real life," Liir said, extending his hand. Tsarevich ignored it and embraced Liir in a warm hug. Liir reluctantly returned it. They separated and Tsarevich's vision began to fade or Liir began to dissolve—he couldn't tell which. Instead of falling into a black void this time, he was caught up in rapturous, blinding light before he finally opened his eyes.
"Vyse?" Tsarevich asked as he opened his eyes. He looked around and saw that he was in the school's infirmary. He had heard himself in plenty of lost duels to remember the look, lighting and smell of the place.
"I'm here, buddy. Welcome back," Vyse said with a smile. He reached out and grasped Tsarevich's arm and gave it an affectionate squeeze. Tsarevich reached up and rubbed his eyes. The light was irritating them. As soon as he closed his eyes, his soul perception kicked in reflexively and he noticed a large, powerful Witch soul in the room with Vyse. He opened his eyes and found himself staring into the emerald green eyes of Liir the Witchblade. He threw the covers off himself and prepared himself for a fight.
"Tsarevich! Hey, it's okay. He lifted the curse off of you," Vyse said.
"What's he doing here?" Tsarevich demanded, scowling at Liir.
"I was taken prisoner but I struck up a deal with Vyse and now I'll be leaving," Liir said, turning on his heel to leave.
"You're just gonna let him get away?" Tsarevich asked Vyse.
"Like he said, we have a deal: your life for his freedom. I think it was a fair trade," Vyse said. Tsarevich shook his head. He felt dizzy and nauseous. He lay back down on the bed and watched as Liir's cloak disappeared in a whirl out the door.
"What did I miss?" Tsarevich asked.
"You've been in a coma for weeks so quite a lot," Vyse admitted.
"Tell me," Tsarevich said.
The wide, double-doors opening of the school was clearly visible as Liir walked through the foyer. He followed Vyse's advise and didn't run. He walked—briskly. Warm sunlight poured into the foyer from the laughing sun above. He stepped into its warmth, outside onto the courtyard at the top of the stairs and into his freedom.
As he walked he began to think about where he would go. He didn't have the magic tools that he stole for Chandra and she wouldn't take him back unless he did. Even after that she might still kill him for inconveniencing her. She had a temper unlike anyone he had ever met.
No place was safe for him. Wherever he went the DWMA would seek him out to try to capture and study him again. His own coven had no love for him. He had to stop turning to others to try to find love and acceptance because he never would. Still it was a disconcerting thing to have no place to go. Perhaps he would go to the other covens and try to find out who his real parents were. Maybe they were still alive. Maybe they had wondered what happened to him.
Probably not, he thought to himself. Witches were rarely given to the sentiments of family. Once a Witch's magical powers manifested, they were sent to one of the hidden covens around the continent to be trained. After that they served the coven until their coven leader considered their service fulfilled. After that…
Plop!
He looked before him and saw the last person that he expected to see: Marie. She had jumped from somewhere and landed right in front of him, blocking his bath to leave. That was a bad idea. He intended to fight tooth and nail if it came to this, but he wanted to avoid it if at all possible.
"Stand aside, Marie. I don't want to hurt you if I don't have to," Liir said.
"Wait just a minute, Liir! Where are you going to go? Back to your coven? To another coven? In hiding?" she asked.
"That's none of your concern," he snapped.
"I am concerned. Your life doesn't have to continue to be like this. You don't have to keep running. You don't have to be alone. There's a place for you here at the DWMA," she said.
"As a prisoner? I'll pass," he said.
"No! As a student," she said. He chuckled. How naïve could one be?
"I'm far too old to be a student here. Besides, I doubt very seriously that a Warlock would be tolerated around these parts. I wouldn't want to have to watch out for my soul all the time," he said.
"You wouldn't have to. It would be an adjustment for all of us but in a while this place could become a home to you—a family," she said.
"Don't talk to me about family. My parents sold me to a Witch coven so that I could be trained up as one of their soldiers. I don't care to have a family. I've made it this far in life without one," he said.
"Marie! Stop him!"
They both turned and looked and saw Stein was running towards the courtyard with Merios hot on his heels. Liir gave her a look that let her know that he was not waiting around for anymore idle chatter. Was she going to stand in his way?
"Remember what I said, Liir. If you ever need a place to go or someone to talk to, come here. I'll be here for you," she said. She stood aside so that she was no longer standing in his way. He was surprised. He knew it was not because she was afraid of him. He knew enough about Death Weapons to know that they were powerful. She granted him his freedom and he was grateful for it. He hit the stairs, found a shadow where the clouds were blocking the sun and he vanished, leaving behind the DWMA.
"You let him go!" Stein complained. Marie looked up at him and glared. Merios was glad that he was not involved with a woman like that. He had seen Marie heated before and it was a scary site. She smacked Stein across the face and before Merios could blink she had gave him a clout too.
"The two of you should be ashamed of yourselves. Lord Death too! This is not the principles that the DWMA was founded on," she said.
"What are you talking about, Marie? We keep prisoners all the time. Don't you remember when we had Medusa locked up?" Stein asked.
"Yes, and look how that turned out! Besides! Liir is not Medusa. There is good in him! I see it! Why can't you?" Marie demanded.
"She's right, Stein. Just like his soul wavelength runs two courses overlapping, so does his lot in life. He may have been born a Warlock, and raised up to hate the DWMA, but he is also a Weapon. He has the ability to choose his own path," Merios conceded.
"Which path will he choose?" Stein said, twisting the bolt in his head.
"It's hard to say. I know that we haven't seen the last of Liir the Witchblade. He still has a big role to play in this grand scheme," Merios said.
"We had better go tell Lord Death what happened," Stein said. Marie let out a sigh. She knew she was going to be in trouble. Merios figured that she would get let off easy. Word was that Lord Death had a soft spot for her.
"You two go on ahead without me. There's a little Weapon that I have to talk to," he said darkly.
Vyse was sitting and laughing with his friend when Professor Aurion burst into the infirmary door hurling accusations and curses faster than he could process.
"You idiot! Do you realize what you've done? Thanks to you our only hope for destroying the magic tools just escaped? What were you thinking? Assaulting teachers! With a sleep bomb! I'm starting to regret giving you a second chance!"
"Hi, Professor," Tsarevich said with a wave.
"Hi, Tsarevich. You'll have to give me a moment because I'm not done verbally berating—TSAREVICH! You're awake!" the professor came over and wrapped Tsarevich in what appeared to be a painful, bone-breaking embrace.
"Professor…I can't…breath…!" Tsarevich said switching between returning the embrace and trying to wriggle free from it. Vyse could not help but to laugh. He couldn't wait too see Hammer and Nail's reaction.
CRASH!
The door came off of its hinges along with the frame and most of the drywall to the infirmary wall. Hammer and Nail were standing there, both of them had smoke coming from their nostrils like angry dragons, fist-clenched and eyes bulging and bloodshot.
"Is he awake? Is he awake?" Hammer demanded.
"As his roommates we should have been the first informed!" Nail added.
"Hammer! Nail!" Tsarevich called out.
Quite the sickening display of bromantic love unfolded before Vyse as he watched Hammer and Nail run in slow motion to each other while Tsarevich worked his way out of his bed to do the same. All of them had bulging red hearts where their irises had once been and they called out each others' names.
"Hammer!"
"Tsarevich!"
"Nail!"
"Tsarevich!"
"TSAREVICH!"
The three of them ended up in quite the rough and tumble in the infirmary making a complete wreck of the place. Tsubaki was going to throw a fit. Vyse was surprised to find that the sting he felt in his chest when he thought about her was fading. He still wanted revenge, but his attitude towards her was not nearly as bloodthirsty as it was before. She had taken the best care of Tsarevich that she knew how. He was thankful for that. It was good to have a friend that seemed long-lost back again.
"So that's why you busted the Witchblade out of his cell," the professor observed out loud. He spoke softly so that only Vyse could hear. The other three were still busy catching up with each other. Vyse would have plenty of time with Tsarevich so he stood to the back of the room with the professor.
"Yeah. I know that I'm in trouble, that I broke all kinds of rules and I let the bad guy escape, but frankly I don't give a damn. My friend's life was at stake and I saw the avenue to save him. I made a choice and I don't regret it…whatever consequences are coming," Vyse said. The professor put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Thank you for making the choice that I was too afraid to make myself. It's not often that the right thing is the easy thing to do. You're not only brave but virtuous as well, Vyse," the professor praised. Vyse shied away from him.
"I wouldn't go that far. You know why I'm here and that still stands," Vyse said.
"I know. You'll settle the score with Black Star and Tsubaki someday; I'm sure of it," the professor said.
"And you're okay with that?" Vyse asked, confused at the professor's new disposition.
"I don't think that it's going to end up how any of us think that it will. You would be surprised how the threads of fate sometimes weave a tapestry that none of us expected," he replied. Vyse could feel the proverbial question mark appear in a dingbat over his head.
"You know, Professor, you're a great teacher and all, but ninety percent of the time you don't make any sense, you know that?" Vyse said. The professor turned and gave him a genuine smile.
"Maybe someday you and I will come to understand each other, Vyse. Until then, I'll settle for mutual respect," he said, extending his hand. Vyse nodded and shook it. He walked over to Tsarevich and put his hand on his shoulder. The curly-headed Meister turned and looked him with his steely, blue eyes.
"You've been out of the game for a while. We've got to get you back into shape, Partner," Vyse said.
"Partner?" Tsarevich asked.
"Partner," Vyse confirmed.
The wind gave comforting relief to the sweltering heat. The weather was much warmer than Tsarevich remembered when he was awake. The summer months were in full swing. He was up on the balcony of the DWMA. He had been paraded around all over the place to the faculty and the student body. Hammer and Nail made sure to have a big celebration in honor of what they were referring to as his resurrection. He was a people person, but he was getting a little overwhelmed. He snuck away from the party and was now staring out into the vast expanse of the desert lands of Death Valley. He was surprised to find his thoughts deeply wrapped up in Liir.
He wasn't sure why either. They had fought each other, and he had lost. He put a curse on him and tried to kill him. The DWMA captured him and Vyse made a deal with him to save his life. That was the story—the condensed version anyway. Still, he felt somehow drawn and connected to Liir in a way that he could not put his finger on. He found himself wondering where he would go, if he was safe, and if he had any friends. Why would he even care about something like that? The guy had tried to kill him and nearly succeeded.
He also saved my life…
It was a lot to take in. He was just thankful that his coma had only lasted a few weeks. He couldn't begin to imagine how much of a mind blow it would be if he woke up and years had passed. Hammer and Nail would have graduated—or dropped out. Vyse would have returned to wherever his home was. Professor Aurion would have taken in another student to mentor, probably one with better luck finding a Weapon partner.
I don't have that problem anymore.
He was thankful for Vyse and was excited to wield him again. He had a feeling that they would work out well together. Now he just had to figure out who was going to be the third Meister in their team. Apparently, and not to his surprise, Hammer, Nail and Vyse had taken no pains to try to recruit another Meister to their team.
As usual, I'm going to have to do everything myself.
"You're missing your party."
He turned and saw that Professor Aurion had found his way up to the balcony. He had two glasses of punch in his hand, walked up and handed Tsarevich one of them. Tsarevich smiled and nodded a silent thank you and took a sip of the bubbly, fruity beverage.
"Would you like some company?" he asked.
"Not at all. I just had to get away from that party. So many people with so many questions. It was hard to take in. I'm just barely getting used to the fact that I've missed out on several weeks of my life, you know?" Tsarevich said.
"It will probably take a while for you to get back in the swing of things. You can take a week off from classes if you like to recover," the professor offered.
"No. I'll be back in class on Monday. Having something to put my mind on besides—well just all of this—will help me, I think," Tsarevich said.
"Whatever you think is best. Pace yourself and don't try too hard. You have plenty of time to recuperate if you need to," the professor said. Tsarevich nodded and stared back out into the desert. Something about the endless sands as far as the eye could see gave him hope of favorable possibility. It also filled him with doubt and insecurity because of how uncertain life could be.
The silence between the two of them continued and lingered for a while. It was as comfortable silence though. For some reason, when he was around his professor, he felt like everything was going to be okay. He always seemed to know that everything was going to be okay. It must have been some rare gift or state of mind. Tsarevich tried to keep himself optimistic most of the time, but frankly living life scared the hell out of him.
"Professor, what do you think will happen to Liir?" Tsarevich asked.
"What makes you ask that?" the professor replied.
"It's just that…he has no place to go. No place to call home. No family. No friends. I can't imagine living a life like that. It's no wonder he is so full of pain and hate," Tsarevich said.
"You never cease to amaze me, Tsarevich," the professor said with a chuckle.
"What? What's so funny?" Tsarevich asked. He hated being laughed at.
"You possess the ability to feel genuine compassion and concern for even the worst of your enemies. Your soul has always impressed me, Tsarevich but it's not your greatest attribute," he replied.
"What is?" Tsarevich asked.
"Your heart. It's so big and full of love for others. Your only problem is that you oftentimes don't set enough aside for yourself," the professor said.
"I guess…" Tsarevich said, unsure of what to say.
"I have a feeling that Liir will find his way in life, Tsarevich. It may take some time and I'm sure he'll have a lot of obstacles to overcome but he'll find a path that's right for him and he'll walk it," the professor said.
"What makes you so sure?" Tsarevich asked.
"He's got a strong will and he knows how to survive. Look how much trouble he gave us," the professor replied with a chuckle.
"Being alive has nothing to do with really living. What's the point of living life if you don't have people to share it with? He has no one to turn to and he's afraid to trust people. He'll be alone forever if he doesn't take a chance to let someone in," Tsarevich said.
"How do you know so much about him?" the professor asked.
"When I look into people's souls I can—sense things about them," Tsarevich said.
"What do you mean?" the professor asked.
"It's hard to explain but I'll give you an example. The day we met Liir was the same day that I fought Sky and Rain using Ayame as my Weapon partner," Tsarevich said.
"I remember; continue," the professor said.
"I was looking into their souls probing for some sort of weakness. Both of them are so confident in their skills that it runs the risk of becoming pride. It makes them careless, forgetting to basic things in their stances, attacks and approaches. I would never have known to look for that if I could not see it in their souls," he explained.
"You can tell all that by looking at someone's soul?" the professor asked.
"It's not precise. It's not like seeing something or hearing something. It's more closing your hand and gliding your fingers on top of the water. Only it might not be water. It might be oil, or snow, or feathers, or rocks. You just have to make sense of what the person's wavelength is trying to express," Tsarevich explained.
"You remind me of someone," the professor said.
"I know, I know…I remind you of yourself when you were a student; you've told me before," Tsarevich said preemptively.
"That's not what I was going to say," the professor continued, "You remind me of Maka Albarn."
"The Maka Albarn, the one who defeated the Kishin Ashura?" he asked.
"The same," the professor replied, "She was not particularly strong like Black Star or skilled like Death the Kid, but in some ways she surpassed them by leaps and bounds."
"Because of her soul perception? I'd much rather be strong like Black Star or skilled like Death the Kid," Tsarevich said.
"Don't be so hasty to say that. Remember that it was not Black Star or Kid who landed the killing blow; it was Maka. She was the only one who had what it took to beat something as frighteningly powerful as the Kishin," the professor pointed out.
"What specifically about me reminds you of Maka?" he asked.
"Your ability to see people through their souls," the professor said.
"Well I mean they glow big and blue and bright but you can still see people at the center of them," Tsarevich said. The professor began laughing again. Tsarevich frowned, furrowing his brow and glared at the professor.
"I meant that metaphorically, Tsarevich. When most Meisters look at the souls of others, they look for things like size, frequency…they forget that the soul is the very fabric of someone's being. They forget to look at the subtle things that make us who we are…but not you. You see the good and the bad in people and you always choose to nurture the good. You bring out the best in people, Tsarevich—you bring out the best in me," the professor said.
"I'm not sure what to say now," Tsarevich confessed.
"Don't worry about what to say. And don't worry about Liir. I meant what I said: he'll find his way. He is going to be big part in the events to come, though whether for good or evil I still can't determine," the professor said. Tsarevich looked at him with his eyebrows raised.
"If I ask you something personal will you promise to give me an answer that it is understandable and legitimate?" Tsarevich asked. The professor blushed.
"I suppose that depends on the nature of the question," he replied.
"Not personal like that, Professor—geez!"
"Sorry, but I wasn't sure what you meant," he said with an awkward smile, "Ask away."
"Why do you always talk in the future tense with such certainty?" Tsarevich asked.
"I'll tell you, but I'm curious to hear what you think," the professor replied. He instantly got serious so Tsarevich knew that he had struck a nerve.
"I can tell by the tone of voice that you're using when you speak that way that you believe it. The most simple explanation is that you're delusional," Tsarevich said.
"But that's not what you think, is it?" the professor asked.
"No. The first time that I really looked at your wavelength was that day we went to see Lord Death together. I noticed how fast it was moving—faster than any soul that I've ever seen. It troubled me so much that I did some research and stumbled across Einstein's theory of relativity. I found the he part where if you're moving fast enough you can actually travel through time and I figured it out.
"Your soul wavelength moves so much faster than everyone else's that you're ahead of the curve or in the future so to speak. That's why you're always harping on students about potential. You can see a certain distance into the future…well see is the wrong word—sense is better. You can see what their soul will look like later and even perceive parts of the journey that will take them there.
"Long story short, professor: you can see the future," Tsarevich said solemnly. He was really hoping that he was wrong, but something in his gut told him that he wasn't. He was gazing deeply into his soul and he was more certain now than ever.
"How long have you known?" the professor asked.
"So it's true then?" Tsarevich asked.
"Partly yes and partly no," he replied, "You see I kept seeing a future where the curse the Liir put on you claimed your life and I was wrong about that. It's funny you should mention this because this particular gift of mine has been troubling me.
"I realize now that I don't see the future with certainty. I see glimpses of possible future outcomes. It's not something that's written in stone yet—or if it is I can only understand the potential future," the professor explained.
"I tried to accelerate my wavelength to match yours," Tsarevich said.
"What happened?" the professor asked.
"It's hard to explain. It was as if I could perceive several different realities at once but it was so limited and so blurry I couldn't make sense of it. That and I was trying to see the future of the plant that I have in my bedroom so that might have something to do with it," Tsarevich admitted.
"You can try again if you want to, but I don't think that you're going to have much luck," the professor said.
"I don't either. I sped my wavelength up as far as I could push it and it just barely enough to see glimpse of something. If that's what I saw, I can only imagine what you can see," Tsarevich said.
"You never cease to amaze me, Tsarevich. I was right about you. You're going make a difference in this world," he said.
"Who else knows that you can do this?" Tsarevich asked.
"Only you, Lord Death and myself knows. If you don't mind, I would rather that we keep this between us. I don't want students trying to get me to read their fortunes," he said. Tsarevich chuckled. He could imagine the hay day that most people would have with someone who could legitimately see the future. They would want to know who they married, when they died, how much money they were going to make and all kinds of endless, needless things.
"That's fine. I won't ask about it again since I can tell that it bothers you…except there is one thing that I am curious about," Tsarevich said.
"What's that?"
"What does the future look like right now? What do you see? Are things going to be okay? How far can you see and over what scope," Tsarevich asked.
"That's a lot of questions, but I'll do my best to paint a picture. Until recently the future looked much like it does now. I can't see very far. Perhaps a year or so. But something changed when we encountered Liir the Witchblade. We must have changed something when we intercepted him—specifically when you chased after him. That's not what I expected to happen.
"When you recovered that magic tool the future began to change…or the possible future. I wish I had better news, but I see nothing but conflict, war and bloodshed in the future. I see darkness dipping over the horizon like a storm cloud and covering the whole earth in its shadow," the professor said.
"Yeesh! That sounds bleak," Tsarevich interjected.
"I wouldn't worry though. I've been wrong before. I see a possible future were things exist as they are as well. Let's hope that one comes to pass," the professor said.
"You know, if you learn as much about the possible future as you can, you might be able to take measures to prevent now that we know that your perception could be wrong," Tsarevich pointed out.
"I know. That's another reason I was so happy to see you awake, alive and well. You proved that the future is not set in stone—it's what we make it. I'm going to try to do whatever I can to prevent the outcome I told you about earlier," the professor said.
"—Let me know if there is anything I can do to help."
"—Let me know if there is anything I can do to help."
Tsarevich looked at him bewildered and realized that he knew he was going to say that. He lived in a world full of endless possibilities—a place where people could be born with souls that could do things that completely defied the laws of the universe. His own wavelength allowed him to mold and shape himself to be whatever he wanted. Even in the face of limitless uncertainty, he took comfort in the fact that he had the power to choose for himself, and he had friends that could help him along the way.
"There you are! We've been looking all over for you, dude!"
He spun around and saw Hammer standing there wearing a pair of black briefs that were just a little too small for him. He was also wearing a black bow tie and he was covered head to toe in white stuff. Tsarevich could only lift his eyebrow and stare open-mouthed in surprise. He looked angry too.
"Hammer…what are you…how did…why…?" Tsarevich stammered, unsure of what to say or do in response to all of this.
"They wheeled in a cake for you and when I burst out of it you weren't even there to see my big entrance. The surprise was ruined," he huffed.
"Believe me, Hammer, when I say that I am still surprised. What in the world made you think to jump naked out of a cake?" Tsarevich asked.
"I'm not naked. I've got these," he said with a grin as he grasped the elastic band of his underwear and pulled them out, released them so it slapped against his skin with a snap.
"And this," he said, reaching up to wiggle his bowtie.
"This is too much, really," Tsarevich said.
"Well come back to the party and eat some cake. I don't want you to miss out on all the fun," Hammer said.
"The DJ is setting up his equipment and we're gonna dance," Hammer said doing some ridiculous dance moves that caused parts of his body to bounce and shake that Tsarevich never wanted to see. He found himself blushing and looking away.
"Okay! I'll go to the party. I'll eat cake…I'll even dance but you have to promise me one thing," Tsarevich said.
"Whatever you want," Hammer said.
"You have to put some pants on," Tsarevich said. Hammer scoffed and took Tsarevich by the arm and started dragging him away. He tried to resist his grip but it was no use, the Weapon was too strong for him.
"Wait! Hammer! Wait! Buy, Professor Aurion! It was good talking to you," he called. He watched as the professor waved back to him, laughing at the spectacle Hammer was creating.
"Can you please let go of my arm. I really don't want to be seen in the hall dragged around by a guy in tiny black underwear and a bowtie. It really doesn't do much for my reputation," Tsarevich complained.
"Shut up, Tsarevich! Nobody cares! They'll be making fun of me not you!"
Merios stood there and peered out into the desert, looking over Death City that lay constructed below the mesa where the Academy was. With one pair of eyes he could see the scenery that anyone else would see if they were enjoying the same vista that he was. With another pair of eyes—the eyes of his soul—he could a fight. Endless Kishin-spawn, Meisters, Weapons and Witches fighting a battle of such epic proportions it scared him. Everywhere the was death, explosions and fighting. The city itself was in ruin. Buildings were crumbling, people running and fleeing trying to escape the carnage. The sky was overcast with clouds blacker than the evilest of souls. In the distance he saw a figure—the same figure that was always there.
It was the silhouette of a woman holding a marionette with strings made of souls dangling down. It was as if she were guiding the actions of those below. She didn't have a face. There was only a blank, gray void where her face should have been, yet somehow he got the impression that she was smiling. She was content to watch those below do her bidding. It was as if she had some sort of method to all of the mayhem and chaos running rampant below her.
Who was she and what did she want? Why was she doing this? Was there no stopping her? The images disturbed him and he determined in his heart that he would stop her, and stop this outcome no matter what the cost. He would look for the possible future where this did not happen.
He could not help but to despair because he had a funny feeling that he knew exactly who—or what—she was. If he was right, then there was no force in the universe that could stop her for she was Fate itself.
Let us hope that you are wrong, Merios.