Sadly, the blissfulness of unconsciousness did not protect Michael for long, as pains – agonizing pains – pulled him back into the harshness of reality.
His fleshless eyes snapped wide open as a dreadful screech escaped his nonexistent throat, rattling all the sleeping dead all around him. His skeletal frame cracked under the immense malicious weight that he unknowingly absorbed into himself.
This was the result of consuming the millennium old miasma that had permutated the darkness chasm for so long. Even so, it was not as painful as the memory that just surfaced in his mind.
Michael recalled that very last moment very clearly. The moment that Eric Cromwell, probably one of the brightest and greatest mages of his generation, was forced to enter the eternal slumber. The deed was done by none other than his teacher and master.
…
…
…
"Eric of house Cromwell. I hereby stripped you of your title as Sage and sentenced you to death," the elderly Sage pronounced on the stage before the spectating masses. Anyone who was anyone within the Kingdom was there to witness the fall of one of the most prominent Sages.
At least, that seemed to be the case.
"No. No. Teacher. You have to believe me. You have to. You know I would never do such a thing. I was framed. I was framed!" Eric called out desperately, defending himself as he had always done so since his arrest just a few days prior.
"You are wasting your breath, traitor. How dare you conspire with the demons and practice the black arts? You are a disgrace to all of us. A disgrace to mankind," the Sage retorted with distain filled voice, and the people agreed with him unquestioningly.
Why wouldn't they? For the elderly man, whom everyone known as Dalton the Wise, was the greatest Sage to ever lived. More that that, he was a hero that save the world from the demons decades earlier, during the Age of Heroes.
"Kill him! Kill him!"
"Demon! Demon! He's a demon!"
The crowds called out. Their blind anger and hatred were visible on their faces. Each one of them had lost someone or something dear to the demons incursion, and they were simply looking for someone to blame.
"Brother. Brother! Please. Please let my brother go. My brother isn't a demon! Please, I beg of you! I beg of you…" a young girl sobbed, trying to get onto the stage, but she was being held back by a couple of soldiers.
Eric looked towards his younger sister as tears streamed down his face. He did not want his little sister seeing him like this. She was the only family member he had left, and he had vowed to protect her no matter the cost.
Remembering that promise, magical aura radiated from Eric, causing the air to tremble in fear. It was so potent that even the most experienced mages backed away.
The mages all knew who Eric was, and the power the he wielded. They weren't going to give him any chances.
Even Dalton himself took half a step back with a hint of surprise. "You… you are truly beloved by magic, Eric. Even with that poison coursing through your vein, you can still channel that much magical energy through your circuits. It is such a waste of potential, such a waste on someone like you."
A powerful blast slammed in Eric, causing him to roar out in pain. Blood erupted from his mouth as he collapsed onto the ground. His magical aura diminished greatly, but it was still there, growing stronger and more potent.
If it was not for the poison destroying his magical circuits, his magical aura would have enveloped the area and strike utter fear into everyone.
"Stop!" Dalton called out before another spell could be completed, and his entourage instantly ceased the incantation. Even so, many of them were still in battle mode.
Dalton turned his attention back to Eric before looking up at the King, who simply nodded.
Eric noticed this, and in a moment of clarity, he remembered the prince whom he called his friend. He looked around, finding the prince was nowhere to be seen. For the prince not to be here in his moment of need, Eric became suspicious.
It had all started from the prince, and Eric immediately put one and one together.
"I am not a traitor. I am not a traitor," Eric called out. "The demons have killed my parents. Why would I serve them!? No. It wasn't me. It was –"
Eric lost his voice in that moment. Someone had casted a silence curse on him, and the only one who could without him noticing was probably his teacher.
"Do not resist, Eric. Accept your sentence, and we will be lenience to your family. Think about it clearly, Eric. Do you wish to be on the run forever, never having a place to rest? Do you really wish such a life for your sister?" Dalton whispered to Eric using a spell.
Eric gazed at his sister, who was sobbing profusely and trying to get to him. Unfortunately, unlike him, she was born with a weak body, unable to practice any form of magic.
His eyes eventually lowered to the ground, and he accepted his fate. Everything that he had ever done was for the wellbeing of his sister. If she could live a good life in exchange for his life, then so be it. So be it.
"Promise me," Eric mouthed, "promise me that you will take care of my sister, Dalton."
Dalton narrowed his eyes and simply nodded. "Do you have any last words, Eric of house Cromwell?"
Eric pulled himself upright despite his arms and legs were bounded by numerous enchanted chains by the writs and ankles. He waited for the silence curse to run its course before speaking up.
"I, Eric Cromwell, has committed the most heinous crime. I ask now for your forgiveness with my life, and I hope that my crimes die with me. My family members have nothing to do with what I have done, so I ask you all to give them a chance to live," Eric announced.
"Your family is as guilty as you! Kill him! Wipe out his house!" came the response. "Isn't that his sister? Get her!"
"If anyone dare to harm my sister, I will wipe you and your blood from this –
A spear interrupted Eric by piercing right through his chest from behind, tearing out his heart in the process as well. The heart was said to be the source of magical power for a mage, and having it ripped out like that would stop any spell dead in its track.
Eric tried to turn around to see who had done the deed. But countless arrows shower his body, ending his life before he could see clearly who it was.
****
Michael snapped out of the memory, realizing that he had almost lost himself for a moment. He could feel the rage and anger associated with the memory, and it was enough to overpower the excruciating pain he was feeling.
The pain eventually melted away as his skeleton form radiated with dreadful aura. The anger did not, however, and Michael understood why the Spellcaster Source wanted justice.
He was the instrument of that justice.