Author's POV
Adrian 'Ash' blackwood was being watched. He was watched in the material world, in a cell of sorts. Kael was also observing him from within Ash's subconscious. Ordinarily, Ash, if he was the Ash Kale knew, would have made it exceedingly difficult to achieve any meaningful results. But surprisingly or otherwise, there was practically no real resistance. It was as if Ash was untrained in the art of mind shielding and that would be beyond insane to think about.
In the mindsacpe, the wind howled through the ravine, stirring up dust and shadows in a place devoid of warmth. Kael believed it was fitting that he found himself in this situation—cold, merciless, and full of jagged edges. He observed Adrian from a distance, his gaze narrowing with each timid movement the blood wizard made. This was not the Ash Blackwood he remembered, the one who had etched his place in Kaeloria with blood and fire. Adrian appeared as a pale shadow, like a youngster pretending to be a deceased person.
Kael looked aside, allowing the sharp chill to bite his skin. He couldn't ignore the persistent suspicion any longer. It wasn't only Adrian's ineffective attempts to fake his way through each conversation. It was about Ash—the real Ash—and Kael couldn't shake the recollections.
"How far you've fallen," he reflected while being somewhat bitter. But it wasn't just a fall. It was significantly more pernicious. It was like looking at a ghost: frightening and incomplete. Kael closed his eyes and let the past unfold like a familiar scroll, each recollection vivid and unwavering.
---
*Years earlier*
Ash stood at the edge of the battlefield, his silhouette against a sky ablaze with war's fires. He remained calm, almost strangely so, as the commotion unfolded around him. Blood mages had a reputation for being unpredictable, allowing their emotions to drive their magic. What about Ash? He was different. He was cold and calculated—a strategist who saw every meeting as a game, each life as a piece to be moved or sacrificed.
Kael remembered the first time he had seen Ash in action. It was a tiny dispute on the outskirts of the capital, but Ash had transformed it into a cruel masterpiece. The opposing forces outnumbered them 2:1, and morale was low. Soldiers murmured about retreating. Even Kael, in his arrogance, began to question whether the war was worthwhile.
What about Ash? He never faltered.
He approached Kael with his characteristic sneer, which appeared to insult the world and all of its norms. "The trick isn't to outnumber them," Ash explained, his voice smooth and confident as ever. "It's to make them think they've already lost."
Kael, sceptical as always, sneered. "Easy to say, Ash. Harder to do. Way harder. You sound like those motivational-type scammers."
Ash had merely given a chilly, calculated grin. "Watch and learn."
And Kael had been watching. He watched as Ash's magic blazed to life, bathing the battlefield in scarlet. He watched Ash weave his spells with an artistry that was almost beautiful, if you could get beyond the gore. Ash did not simply fight his adversaries; he dismantled them. Though Ash wasn't really an illusion mage, he had some proficiency in it, he after all had a master illusionist in the person of Kael to follow. He produced illusions of invincible armies, phantoms of terror that destroyed the enemy's resolve before the first blow was delivered. Ash eventually entered the conflict, not as a warrior, but as an executioner. The conflict was over before it even started. So in this case, raw power was not the reason for the victory, it was strategy.
Kael remembered the screaming and Ash's movement amid the mayhem like a conductor orchestrating a symphony of death. Bodies dropped like marionettes, their strings severed, and blood painted the ground in a hideous tapestry. It was the first time Kael saw terror in his foes' eyes—fear of Ash rather than death.
After the battle, Kael discovered Ash standing alone, eyes distant and hands stained red. His smile did not convey triumph or pride. Only a cold, distant satisfaction. "War isn't won by the strongest," Ash had whispered almost to himself. "It's won by those who are willing to do what others won't."
Kael has known many warriors and magicians over his life who wielded their power with hubris and recklessness. But Ash was different. He was dangerous because he never allowed his emotions to lead him. Every decision was calculated, and each action was measured. That brutality, that cool, calculating mind, gained Kael's grudging respect.
And now, staring at Adrian—this stupid, nervous fool fumbling with his magic—Kael felt nothing but hatred. Where was the fire? What about the cruel cunning? This wasn't the Ash who had stood by his side, whose mind was as keen and lethal as the blood magic he used. This was a stranger with Ash's face, and Kael couldn't bear it.
---
Kael returned to the present, his gaze once more settling on Adrian. He was pacing at the edge of the ravine, muttering to himself and lost in his own thoughts. Kael tightened his fists, frustrated. *How did it get to this?*
Was this a twisted magic trick? A curse, perhaps, intended to muddle a once-sharp mind? Kael had seen it before: mages with shattered memories and identities buried in a tangled web of failed spells. But, Ash... Ash had always been very careful. Very precise. Could he really have succumbed to something so mundane?
Kael's mind raced, torn between rage and something unsettlingly near to dread. He could stop it right now: kill Adrian and eliminate this pitiful copy of the blood wizard he once knew. It would be simple—a swift strike, and the threat would be eliminated. Perhaps it would be a stretch to say he was a real threat, but it was still unsettling to watch the ghost of the blood mage. But Kael paused. Something about this situation, Adrian's mistakes and missteps, piqued his attention.
*What if this isn't just incompetence? Kael wondered. *What if this is deeper?*
He recalled the spellbooks, banned works that discussed consciousness manipulation and memory altering. Could someone have reached Ash? Warped him? What happened to him? And if so, why? What was the endgame?
Kael's gaze clouded. Killing Adrian now would be the simplest option, but it would not address the nagging issues that haunted him. He needed answers. He needed to discover if this was Ash's fault—or if something considerably more deadly was going on.
Kael's brain raced, and his suspicions grew. He could feel the threads of a larger game coming together around them, and he despised not knowing the rules. He despised being in the dark, particularly when it came to Ash.
"You'd better start remembering who you are, Adrian," Kael mumbled under his breath, his voice fading into the wind. "Or I'll find out the truth myself—and I promise, you won't like what I discover."
The decision weighed heavily on Kael, but he knew what he needed to do. He would observe, wait, and figure out what sorcery had twisted Ash into this unrecognisable form. And when the truth came out, Kael would be ready. Not necessarily because he planned to immediately end Ash but because he might even win back a real ally for future plans.
He'd have his answers eventually. What if Adrian was indeed Ash, hidden below layers of deception and manipulation? Then Kael would do whatever needed to be done, no matter the cost.
However, for the time being, he would keep his weapon sheathed. He would take his time. Because a broken mind may be far more destructive than a spell—and Kael was desperate to find out what had happened to Ash Blackwood.
---
Kael turned, his mind racing with wrath and anticipation. There was still a game to be played, and the next step was his.