Sebastian's mind collapsed upon itself. He began falling endlessly into the depths of his own soul, visions of repressed memories and trauma zipped passed him as he fell unconscious. As Sebastian's body lay slumped on the floor of his concealed locker room, he quickly realised that he was a prisoner in his own head. At first, he stood alone, cold, damp and his feet in a few inches of freezing water. "Darius! Help me!", he called out to none but his own psyche. His clothes were replaced by tattered rags, spackled in blood and thorns that dug into his skin. Sebastian began wandering the darkness and with each step he took, the water began rising more. His breath grew shallow and rapid. The lake began rising rapidly and with vengeance as Sebastian started to run in a panic. Soon, the stygian water of Loch Morar covered his entire being.
This was unmistakably some vision of some sort of message or the other. Sebastian's lungs filled with cold and his eyes felt the needle like sensation of the icy water. He clawed at the surface but with each movement, it only grew further from his escape. As he writhed in suffering, he noticed shapes in the water. Coming into the view from the murk were the islands that dotted Loch Morar, only they were inverted beneath the water's surface and seemed to settle into a formation that looked familiar. Sebastian soon lost the sensation of his body and quickly glanced over to a large shadow, darting around in the darkness. The figure was serpentine in shape and its massive body lay intertwined around the masses of stone and moss.
Feeling totally helpless and devoid of any hope, Sebastian locked eyes with the pair of bloodshot, yellow eyes of the Serpent whose face remained hidden. The creature responded, chanting a language once used by warriors of a one-eyed God. The entire lake seemed to tremble and boil with each word the Serpent spoke. It was most definitely a warning or perhaps a word of caution yet, Sebastian only felt threatened to the core. Then, most unexpectedly, a beam of light illuminated upon Sebastian's helpless state. The almost fluorescent white light came from a figure, cloaked and wielding a sword of starlight. She was standing on one of the upturned islands. The figure herded the Serpent into the gloom and turned her attention to Sebastian. As she pointed, to him, Sebastian was pulled from behind, forcefully to another dark expanse.
Sebastian was still standing in black water, only dry and wearing a black robe, and his hands burning an ethereal green flame. Some way into the darkness, he could see a woven basket of reeds and the cries of a child. Sebastian inched forward slowly, "Hello?" As he approached the cot, he realised that the entirety of the basket was illuminating the area around it. He peeled back the singed linen covering it and saw only a dried rose, its petals shrivelled and dull. Then, fading into existence were the clinks of steel and the heaving of men. Walking towards Sebastian were knights, dragging Maces, Greatswords, Axes and the dismembered bodies of demons. The knights wore armour that were dented, scorched; their shine long lost to years of battle. Coming within inches of the basket, the knights fell to their knees, kneeling and muttering the Latin phrase, "Deus Vult".
With hundreds of knights still appearing out of limbo, Sebastian began walking backwards, afraid no doubt. Just as he tripped over a female knight missing her arm, a thunderous trumpet sounded. The black sky cracked open and twelve angels descended upon the expanse. Their wings were pairs of twelve and made of golden grace; and could have easily stretched from horizon to horizon. One by one, eleven of the Twelve Guardians began swooping down towards the mass; alleviating the suffering of the dying knights. Sebastian looked on, as with every moment the angels took, their halos illuminated their surroundings, almost brighter than their glorious wings. The horn sounded again, causing Sebastian to wince in pain. The largest of the twelve unfurled his entire being, slowly descending upon the cradle. As he got closer, his arm reached out and gently lifted the shoddy reeds into the air. As the bodies of the knights crumbled to dust, the Twelve ascended into the heavens, leaving Sebastian in the darkness.
A quiet befell the area, and Sebastian quickly realised that the water was heating up rapidly. The icy sting of the water was being replaced by a singing heat, steam arising from the surface of the Loch. In the distance, Sebastian could hear something. It was faint but when the sound grew in strength so too did an orange inferno. The water was now scorching the soles of Sebastian's feet and he soon began running away from the growing inferno. Yet, with each step he took away from the fire, the heat only intensified. He soon figured out his mistake and hesitantly began running towards the flame. Hesitantly, because although his feet were being relieved from the singing water, his ears were being pierced by the shrieks, cries and bellows of men and women.
The inferno came into full view and rage to Sebastian. His eyes widened with horror looking on at the nightmarish gore that haunted him. By the thousands, crucified upside-down were men, women and children of all walks of life. The crosses were not the neat sort that were customarily depicted in paintings of Christ no, no, no. These crosses were twisted and jagged. The wood that were used were thorned and pierced the bodies of the poor souls, crimson gore pouring out. The inferno, then? The crosses blazed in a fry of Hellfire, singeing the flesh of those unfortunate. You could even hear words of the Netherandir; the language spoken in Hell being chanted within the flames. It was obvious that this wasn't the work of mere savages, it was almost assuredly the work of Diabolus or the Devil to you and me. Sebastian fell to his knees, not at the sight of flesh being burnt off the bones or the smoke that carried the scent of death; but because of who he recognised among the tortured.
Impaled by blackened nails, piercing their palms and their feet, was someone whose suffering Sebastian just couldn't bear. Her modesty was stripped away and her eyes were held open, fixed upon Sebastian's. Blood-curling screams and wails were enough to paralyse him. His chest heaved and his breath grew shallow at the sight of such beauty defiled. "AAAAHHHHH!!!", Sebastian yelled out, tears rolling down his cheeks. His head now hung low, a growing sensation came upon Sebastian's right arm. Starting at the fingers, a black, wretched stain began crawling up his arm. As it grew, his flesh cracked and burst open like an old log. The rot had indefinitely spread to his shoulder, his entire arm seemed frail and yet was as hard as Dragonstone. From within, fading embers burnt a soft glow. "HELP MEEE!", he shouted to the young woman, her sorrow scorched out of her eyes.
"AAAAAHH", he yelled, "NOOO!" Sebastian gripped the left side of his face. A fierce pain lanced through his face, growing in intensity. Starting from above his left eye, a crack began opening in the poor boy's flesh. The pain was crippling; Sebastian's hands were now on the ground. He finally succumbed to pain as he began slightly chuckling to himself. "Daemon! Daemon Daemon!", a voice began chanting in his head with each laugh. Black blood dripped down his face, over his chin and into the water below. It was at this point that Sebastian's entire body became void of all sensation, going into shock. The laughter came to an abrupt stop and Sebastian fell onto his face, through the water, between the realms and back to Tella Mater.
Sebastian awoke to find himself back in his body, in the dimly light locker room at Lancaster's. He frantically grabbed his arm, now fleshy, pale and satisfyingly soft. He then grabbed is face, panickily coming up to his face and looking in the black frames mirror. His breath was beginning to finally slow as Sebastian breathed a sigh of well-earned relief. As he continued to admire his human looks, he noticed something in the reflection. He turned around gingerly and with a look of confusion on his face. Sitting there, neatly displayed and contained in its Sapphire case, was Sol. The look of confusion quickly turned to a vexed state. Sebastian hastily made his way over to the armour stands. He wasted no time into changing into the practice gear. The armour wasn't as impressive as the Pontiffs at breakfast, instead, they were battered, dented and coarse to the touch. Each strap was yanked shut and clasped with anger. Soon, he was ready.
Sebastian paced over to the door, with stride at first but when he gripped the door handle, he froze. Taking one final look, he turned over his shoulder and took one final look at the Holy Sword. "Hmmph,", he said to himself, "angels and their prophecies." Sebastian yanked the open with such force that it hit the wall behind and slammed shut behind them. "What the matter with you?", a puzzled Darius asked as he met up with Sebastian. "Nothing.", Sebastian replied, "Carry on then!" The pair walked out of the locker rooms and rejoined the other boys who were gathered around Professor Anderson. They shifted through their peers and came to the very front, greeted by their teacher. Anderson, in each hand, held an equally battered lance, a grin on his face.
"Now now lads,", the Professor started, "who fancies themselves a joust?" The boys grew leery and became muttering to each other. "Anyone?", Alexander asked as he pointed to various students, "C'mon now boys, volunteers step forward!" Almost on cue, the entire class took two steps and a stride backwards, absolutely terrified of the size and weight of a Lance coming barrelling towards their rickety shields. See, the boys were rightfully cautious. Professor Alexander was crowned a Champion of too many jousting tournaments to boast. As such, he would always be stern in his training and ever eager to pit his students together, all for educational purposes of course. With the boys now retreated, Sebastian realised that Darius was now behind him and only him and another boy remained forward. "Ah!", Anderson exclaimed, "Lancaster! Iscariot! Come for yer gear!"