YP – B1: Finale – Chapter 11

266 Days Until Memories and The Uncertain End (part 2)

Zeydar stood before the council of hooded Superiors. He wasn’t entirely sure why he had been called that day. He was supposed to be in therapy. Why had they messed with his sessions? They had put them there after they had found him in the—

Fire, blood, screams. Explosions. Water, fire, electricity, ice, wind, earth, metal bending. The sound of cars flying and glass breaking. The sound of things falling and crashing. The way that the world was glowing in color and his senses were alive at their peak. He wanted them all dead, all of them. He would get home after he killed them all. The fear in the eyes of those who would soon be dead. With the flick on his wrist he cast a spell, the circle forming with his intentions alone and without a spell. It had to have been a dream. It had to be a lie.

“Zeydar.” The council head brought Zeydar out of his chills, shivers, and the memory of him destroying the Tower of Arcadia. He had single handedly killed millions of people in his rage and as he was unable to control his powers. He had killed Tyler. He had killed his family. He had killed so many people all with magic he could not control. “We have called you here to discuss the events of The Night of Oblivion.”

“The Night of Oblivion?” Zeydar had not heard the phrase.

“The night you were kidnapped.” A woman answered. “The Night has been recently deemed The Night of Oblivion. That night Cloudcities all over the world were attacked. Arcadia was one of those cities. Our fellow Stars were able to repel the attack and kill some of the monsters.”

Monsters. Zeydar remembered Tyler telling him about them. 

“We lost many, however.” The woman continued. “Before the fighting broke out the X’s broke into the city and began to riot.”

Zeydar gave a nod remembering the riots, “They were the ones who attacked me. Who took me.”

“If the riots had not broken out our people would have been able to better respond.” The woman stopped speaking then.

“We want to know what happened.” The head asked again.

“They took me and—“ The memory was too painful, too fresh. The pain it caused him would not be so easily forgotten.

“Not on what they did to you. No, we believe you have enough of that to think about. We want to know about the destruction of the tower that left you as the only survivor.”

Zeydar looked to the Superiors. Would they kill him for it. “I didn’t mean to—“ He was at a loss for words. What could he say to prove his innocence?

The council did not react until the Head spoke again. “No. You wouldn’t have been expected to help anyone. You were kidnapped and trying to save yourself, which resulted in you being the only survivor. Why would you have helped your tormentors?”

“No I mean—“ Zeydar didn’t understand. He had told them hadn’t he?

“The Aralax that destroyed the Tower.—-“ 

“I did it!” Zeydar was sure he told them. “I lost control of my magic. I was the one who—“

“You expect us to believe that a Magician without their Staff was able to cast enough magic to destroy a tower? Leaving aside that casting magic without a staff is impossible. A Class 1 would not be able to do such a thing in a single hour.”

But he had. He had done it. It had been his fault. All those lives were his fault.

“No. Zeydar you were on something. Something that made you think you did it. We saw the characteristics of detox on you when we found you. We believe that in your memory was the truth?”

Detox? He had detoxed! They were the ones that consistently fed him Sweet Dreams. They were the ones who developed an addiction within him that had sparked the rage and the need for destruction as he felt his skin itching with power that would not dissipate. He had been given nothing else. He had detoxed off the Sweet Dreams they forced on him then and forced on him now thinking that he did not know. 

Instead they were looking for a way to discredit him, or to cover it up…

That was what they were trying to do. Cover it up. He scared them. It was why they held him with Sweet Dreams. What was he capable of? Was he actually able to cast magic without a staff, without being in a detoxing state? How powerful was he and why did it scare them? They had to cover it up and they needed him to believe in them.

“You are probably right, but I don’t remember. I remember a lot of fire and explosions.” Zeydar answered. The memory echoed in his minds. 

The idea of the power he held within him was tempting, but the fact that he had killed millions quelled that temptation. He was a monster and he needed to be contained. Perhaps Sweet Dreams would be his answer to the horrors in his memory as well.

He found out later that it was. It was then that he remembered that this? This was a dream. There was no need for him to stand there remembering the horrors and this council meeting. Taking control of his mind, Zeydar walked from the room. Sweet Dreams were meant for happiness. This was the only happiness that he could control.

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