Hellooo~ :) :)

Armour: Brimflame

Weapon: Winter's Fury, Undine Retribution, Stormfront Razor

Acc(11/11): The Bee, Celestial cuffs, Mana Flower, Sorcerer Emblem, Cryo Wings, Ankh Shield, Deific Amulet, FrostSpark Boots, Grand Gelatin, Permafrost's Concotion, Evasion Scarf. (Unlimited Buffs)

Health: (500/500)

Armour: None

Weapon: None

Acc(0/11):None

Health: (200/400)

The darkness was heavy.

Dark, cold and heavy. It was like the abyss pressing on his skin, squeezing him from all directions. The sound of static filled his ears and fogged his brain. His strength was gone. He could not lift a finger. His eyes didn't work - the darkness was impenetrable. Everything was numb, slack and cold. Time had stopped. He could not fathom how long he lay suspended in that heavy, cold place but there was a creeping loneliness that slowly overcame him, gripping his heart like a painful vice.

I'm...

He... he must be dead. The Man in Red had killed him. He'd crushed him beneath his armoured heels. He'd pierced his heart with a lance. The Terrarian had killed his fair share of living things, and he knew what a creature looked like in its death throes. Now, he knew what it felt like. The shame. The helplessness. All his value was stripped away as he was slaughtered like an animal.

... I'm dead.

He was dead. He was dead! The realization drove icy nails through his gut. The thought sent panic through his brain. What would happen to him now? What was he to do next? Was this it?! Would he languish in this cold abyss forever? Would he never again see the light of the sun? Nor feel the gentle rain on his skin? Nor feast his eyes on the bounty of the green earth - the delicate lilies, the puffy clouds? Nor tend to his lovely little compound? His Garden? His Lawn? What of the adrenaline and adventure! The joy of a victory. The crush of defeat. He had only seen a small corner of this world - would he die without seeing the rest? Would he vanish in ignorance, not even understanding who he was or who he came into the world? Indeed... he didn't even know why he'd been killed!

(-yer?... your'e bac...)

Who was The Vulture Headed Mage? Why did he kidnap him? Who was The Man in Red!? Why had he killed him? Now, The Terrarian would never know. The hand of destiny had not even deemed him the honor of knowing why he'd been so mercilessly slain. In fear and anguish, he had expired. In childlike ignorance, he was killed. He... now that he looked back on it, he loved his world. He loved the blue sky. He loved the gentle breeze. The fragrance of wildflowers and the lazy hum of insects...

It's all gone.

The loss was almost too much to bear. His heart wept within him. His eyes pooled in icy tears. Whilst being crushed underfoot, he had begged the cosmos to let him go home. He had begged that someone somehow would rescue him. To send him back to his little compound in The Crimson Land, to live his life in the beauty of his small small world. He wanted to see The Guide again. The one who had walked with him since the very beginning. The one he relied on for knowledge and wisdom. Even when they fought, The Guide never left him. He was always, always there. He had promised he would never leave him... but it seemed The Terrarian would leave him first.

Because... because I've died.

Oh... How he missed The Guide... He didn't appreciate the wonderful things he had until everything was taken away. The sweetness of fellowship would be his no longer. The joy of creation. The Wonder at the world's beauty. It was all gone. Now, he truly had nothing. He was miserable, weak, cold and alone. He was left here, abandoned in ignorance at the edge of time, bereft of everything and left to stare into the endless abyss for time immemorial. How silent. How harsh. How cold.

I want to go home.

He missed him. He missed the warmth. He missed the assurances. The endless conversations. The Smiles and grins. He missed him. He missed The Guide so terribly he wanted to wail, but his lungs had no strength. He tongue was like a block of lead in his mouth. Despair filled his head; hopelessness crouched over him like a scepter. He squeezed his eyes shut and allowed his face to sag against the red stone bricks beneath him. They were rough and textured against his oddly tender skin. Tears trailed across his face and pooled beneath his cheek. What he would give to go back home. He'd forget all his grudges. He'd run and embrace the one he loved. He'd never let him go.

(wake u-... buddy you can't-...)

The darkness trembled. He felt his brains slosh around in his head as if he were being rocked back and forth. The bricks beneath him were warm. The air above was cool against his bare skin. There was sound muttering over him, a voice with a familiar cadence and tone - but his brain was static. His head was full of cotton and sadness and clouds. He felt himself being moved, his torso being lifted from the warm bricks and pressed up against smooth linen. He heard the sound of someone else's breath and heartbeat. Hands and arms wrapped about him, holding him tightly about his back and shoulders. Breath tickled his hair and eyelashes. The smell was-

...!

The smell was of burnt flesh and ash... but very peculiar and very distinct. The Terrarian knew this scent. He could track it across a thousand miles. Could it be? How could The Guide be here!? Imposisble. The Terrarian struggled to open his eyes, but his vision was blurry as if there were scales covering them. His eyelids were leaden, the light hurt him wheresoever they crept through the blur. Why couldn't he see?! Why didn't his eyes work?!

(don't... eyes aren't ready-... careful not to strain-...)

A hand was laid over his face, gently shutting his eyes. He didn't have the strength to try and open them again. He felt the blast of breath against his face. He felt his limp limbs being gathered together. That familiar voice spoke over him again.

(Hey... I need you to breathe... breathe, okay? Don't die on me, Buddy.)

That voice! It came through clearly now. It was absolutely, undoubtedly The Guide. Ah. Something deep inside of him simply collapsed right there and then. The despair he'd been languishing in was flushed away so completely, it was as if it had never been there at all! The Guide. The Guide! He had no strength, but despite everything he strained against the heaviness in his flesh until something cracked and breath flooded into his lungs. He hadn't realized his heart was stopped until it suddenly began to beat in his chest. The cold numbness slowly began to melt away, but The Terrarian scarcely noticed. He could hardly move - but managed to cling to the edge of The Guide's cloak with the tips of his fingers. He could barely hear, but he knew that voice speaking comforts over him. His nerves were dull, but he knew who was ruffling his hair and pressing kisses into his forehead. He was blind, but he knew where he was...

"Shhh, you're alright now... You're safe... don't cry now."

He'd come home.

"Insanity is magic, you've heard me say this before I'm sure. The reasons the leaves fall in disorder? The Reason entropy reigns in this world? Magic... and Magic is a fickle mistress. Some - like that frosty old bastard - wrangle magic and bend it to their will. They are on direct opposition with the source of their power, and although they are strong - they fight a battle within themselves whilst fighting the enemy. Tell me then, Child, knowing this - what is the best way to obtain immense magical power?"

I know My Teacher is lecturing me to keep me conscious, but I really don't have the heart to take pop quizzes. I swear there is something inside my head trying to scratch its way out. There are a thousand white hot needles and razorblades stabbing the inside of my skull, and I want with everything in me to leap out of this hellish magic circle and throw myself into the cold snow outside.

But instead, I remain seated in the center of the chalk circle and press my palms against my eyes, straining against the pain for all I'm worth. There are four black candles surrounding me at precise points. They flicker unnaturally as the ground beneath me glows with an otherworldly light, the tendrils of power reaching up from the great beyond to seal off the entity living inside of me. If I want to be rid of Doppelganger, I must endure... and I must stay conscious otherwise my alter ego - my 'insane soul' will take my body.

So... I answer, nearly biting my tongue as I do so.

"G-go... go insane..."

The Cultist seems pleased I'm able to speak. He's walking circles around me, alternatively chanting incantations and lecturing. I try my best to focus on his voice and not the deep angry mutterings that gnash from behind my ear. I can feel needle teeth pressing against the nape of my neck. I can feel the monster's hot breath condensing against my skin. I've got goosebumps everywhere, but I know I must endure. The Lunatic Cultist is here with me. Although he's wronged me in the past, his presence lends me great comfort through this trial. I focus on his voice.

"Excellent! I've taught you well Hero. If somebody is in tune with the nature of chaos, the nature of mana itself, they will wield magic effortlessly and powerfully. They will not be fighting the nature of Magic, but instead channeling it and allowing it to carry them. An 'insane magician' is many orders of magnitude more powerful than a 'sane' one. You understand?"

"Ye-"

I snap my teeth shut as a something begins tearing through my chest. My eyes are screwed shut, but I can see. There's a prison being built inside of me. A prison with intractable, mighty walls. An Eldritch prison - whose substance is the substance of the cosmic abyss. My Teacher is stuffing Doppelganger into that prison, but my split personality is fighting hard. I can hear my own voice yowling in my ears. I can feel my own fingernails scrabbling under my skin. Teeth, razor sharp - yet mine! - are wrapped about my neck like a ring of death. I am torturing myself. I'm peeling my own skin off. I'm stabbing into my own skull. I must resist. I must stay awake!

The Lunatic Cultist continues cheerfully. I hear the soles of his shoes squishing oddly against the hardwood floors as he circles me once more. A blast of foul smelling powder is thrown over me, and the light of the candles glow ever brighter.

"Good Good. Now, you are probably well aware of the many downsides of being - well, insane. Namely, you are no longer your own. You have no influence on your own life. In some ways, if you succumb to insanity, you've lost yourself! Hence the saying, What can a man give for his own soul? Alas, although insanity brings great power, such a thing is not an option for the enterprising mage."

I do my best to follow My Teacher's conversation, but my vision has begun to tunnel. I see worms everywhere. Everything has become worms as my Doppelganger rages ever so wildly. The Ground. The walls. My own Hands. My Teacher... I know its all fake. This is just Doppelganger struggling against that eldritch magic trapping him. I try not to retch as I watch my hallucinations... worms bursting from beneath my skin. Tiny perforators leaping and burrowing through the floor... Panic fills me - but I remain still. I cannot lose myself now... I dimly turn my mind back to My Teacher's lesson - focusing on the words to avoid thinking about the pain.

"And so, for many years, nobody has even considered using insanity to obtain power. There have been several mages that lost their minds - but they never live long. Usually they explode after ravaging whatever is nearby. Insanity cannot be controlled. That is its nature..."

The Cultist stops in front of me and throws more foul smelling stuff over me. It smells like rotting fish, and I can feel it sticking to the sweat on my back and shoulders.

"But there was an anomoly! There was one who went 'insane' and obtained immense power... yet also retained her mind! The Witch of Massacre. Calamitas the Supreme. She went mad with grief when her family was murdered in front of her. She should have lost her mind and her personality, right? She should have exploded or transformed into inanimate objects like the rest of them... But to this day, still is able to operate under her own will. How do you reckon that, Child?"

I don't answer. I huff heavily as the pain grows to a peak. The Cultist doesn't insist on a response. Rather, he seems pleased with me regardless. Perhaps because I was so willing to submit myself to his ministrations? Ah, whatever. I haven't the mental energy to spare. I must focus.

"Yes! Exactly! Her personality split in two. One 'person' went insane - an 'insane' soul through which her great magic is channeled - the other? The Calamitas we know. Of course, this is a very rare phenomena. Living with an insane and terrifically powerful alter ego is no easy task - as you well know. I theorize Calamitas is so strong willed, she even subdued her Doppelganger by pure force. Regardless, the fact stands. If a talented mage develops a split personality - and one of those personalities goes mad - and that mad personality is locked away or otherwise subdued - then the lucky spellcaster may grasp for himself an incredible power with none of the downsides. Brilliant, isn't it?!"

I've stopped listening long ago. It feels like I'm being eaten alive from the inside. I'm choking on my own spit, crying, surely making all sorts of unseemly noises... but The Lunatic Cultist doesn't ridicule me. He simply continues to walk circles about me, chanting, lecturing, throwing fish dust...

"Well I'm sure you'll fully appreciate it once I'm finished. In any case, this sealing spell is of my own making, allow me to explain the details...(etc...)"

Lord Braelor,

I hope this letter finds you well.

Despite our rather ...rocky reconciliation over the past few weeks, I do hope you still consider me a friend - or at the very least an ally.

There is a matter of great importance that must be attended to immediately. I have reason to suspect Lord Yharim is able to trace my magic. He had captured The Hero very briefly, and the boy informed me The Tyrant said my name whilst being analyed - as if The King knew the telltale fingerprint of my cloaking magic.

Naturally, I attempted to vacate the premises immediately such that I would not put The Resistance Headquarters in danger, but alas, The Sea King and the remaining members of The High Brass detained me. Perhaps they suspect I am a traitor, I cannot know.

And with this, I humbly present my two requests of you: That you will firstly allow me to distance myself from The Resistance, to call off the guards and explosive perimeter set up about my castle. And Secondly return to The Resistance for the purpose of defending this place from Yharim, should he appear.

- Humbly,

The Archmage.

Guide: Easy! Now you try. First, get a jar.

Slayer: *pulls out minishark.*

G: That's a gun

S: Yes.

Gunshots and Screaming*

Monday release ayyy.

Both if the babies crying this chapter :)

uwu

thanks for reading!