'Karma?' Cerlius thought. 'Rules? Those ideas make the world sound like a fair place. What a bunch of bullshit. Fucking Human.' A black thread appeared and disappeared, and a crack rang out. The little strength he had left quickly decreased, and he felt something snap inside of him.
It wasn't painful but something was gone. He felt numb to it, all the stress and worry. He stepped outside of himself and looked at all these adults, these children pulling him into their stupid game, and only shook his head. "Head Mage, I have told you what happened. Would you prefer if there was a truth orb present?"
Lance pulled the artifact in question out of his spatial ring but the Head Mage waved for him to put it away. "There was no arrow in your room, only a crack in the stone window frame. Your story implies that an arrow fell out of solid stone. Or will you insist that you passed out immediately?"
With each sentence out of the man's mouth, the numbness continued to eat away at Cerlius. His mind, embroiled in chaos, seemed to flood until everything was still.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtGlenin continued: "Only someone extremely strong and accurate could have even made the shot, especially since the range of the academy's detection is extremely far. It would be easier to assume someone who doesn't respect our rules made a move against us. It would be easier to assume that karma has put you in this position."
Cerlius looked the Head Mage up and down. Despite the man's weathered body, he carried with him an intensity built up over years of study. "I recall no such claim of passing out instantly. I said I passed out. I neglected to add that the arrow had a slip of paper attached. Fearing the worst, I pulled the arrow out and tossed it.
Forgive me. I didn't mean to mislead you. Blood loss has taken quite a toll on my mind, and I have not had a chance to rest yet. It seems you may have forgotten that fact in your hurry for results." He slapped his wrinkled sheets, which the Head Mage was sitting on, and smiled like Lance taught him.
Cerlius knew it was only a matter of time until exhaustion broke his state of numbed concentration. He instinctually let the unfamiliar feeling guide him, for he may not remember being a Lich, but the muscle memories still remained.
Glenin nodded and slowly got to his feet. "Oh I understand that rest is extremely important. Lately however, it seems as though you aren't getting much." He gestured to Cerlius's baggy eyes. "Now I do understand that everything must be very stressful, but you are supposed to be smart, yes? Have you ever heard of the expression: to dig oneself a hole?"
"No. Must have forgotten it," Cerlius shrugged. 'I have to bet everything on this,' he thought as his vision blurred. The instructors all looked at each other before taking a few steps back. "According to your theory I somehow snuck into your office after a mere week of study, successfully stole several extremely powerful spell scrolls, escaped said office without a single witness, and then stabbed myself to establish some sort of cover story."
Glenin parted his greasy lips to twist a slippery story but Cerlius rose his voice over that old crone. "I also shot several of my peers and ordered my fellow thieves, who somehow bypassed the academy's detection for no apparent reason, to combust."
Cerlius narrowed his eyes at Glenin as he spat out. "Who knows what kind of sick, deranged man I am? I certainly don't, as I would never in a thousand years conceive of such an ingenious tactic. You believe karma put me in this position, correct?"
He paused, and Glenin nodded. "Indeed 'to each their own' Head Mage Glenin Ostroch because I do not understand how karma, a simple concept, can be infected with so many logical fallacies. You would fit right in with the War Monks."
And with that last remark he fell back into his soft pillow, clinging to consciousness. He wouldn't be surprised if steam rose from his head. He was still awake however, and he knew that he couldn't afford to pass out.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmCerlius's last remark hung in the air. The instructors' eyes had long since gone wide. The name of that traitorous organization was the final nail in the coffin. A silence descended upon the Medical Wing as Cerlius took labored breaths.
Glenin tightened his grip on his cane and laughed. "Oh I'm sure there's another story, but I'm not here to hear that. I'm almost certain that a boy like you wouldn't be able to cooperate with others, much less steal my scrolls. I don't think you shot yourself. I just want you to answer a question, a question I am asking you for a third time now: where were you?"
Cerlius wanted to curse under his breath. 'Now I see your game,' The old man had been dancing around the subject, pressing him with other points so he would be too focused on the accusations to think up a proper excuse. 'He's by far, one of the worst humans I've ever met.'
"Such dedication to study beyond the allowed time," Glenin said upon Cerlius's silence. He leaned on the bed as if talking to an injured friend. An annoyed twitch of Glenin's wrinkled eye warned Cerlius of his impending loss.
'He's waiting. He doesn't want an improvised lie. He wants something concrete. Maybe I say the truth, that I was in Mage's Shadow. I don't know what punishment I'll endure but it's sure to be less severe than what he's thinking of. I can say I forced Olpi to accompany me, but she'll get in trouble for lying to an instructor. I'll lose one of my few allies and my good reputation with the Demis.'
Yet as the headmaster leaned forward, yellowed teeth on display, it was instructor Lance who paled. "Lance, it seems you have been influenced by disobedient people, again. Cerlius is not talking. The Demi is not talking. You need to give me answers."