Chapter 49
Ben
It's funny how consciousness sometimes comes before the agony, as though the waking body needs a second to collect itself together. Or perhaps it is simply a last moment of sympathy from the physical to the mental that keeps that second of delay just long enough for a man to fool himself into thinking he's alright... or already dead.
And it's funny what a man can notice in that second, what subtle pressures he can feel upon the surface of his skin before his entire existence explodes.
My lips are cracked and my throat dry. There is time in that second for a single breath and it rasps down through my body like the dying rattle of an old man. My back aches from stone flooring and my ribs throb with part-healed bruising.
And then it hits me.
A single line of fire birthing an entire ocean of pain, iron waves radiating out from the centre of my face to the furthest frayed edges of my being. And I just lie there and feel it. Any reaction would be too feeble; crying, screaming... the responses would do little more than scratch the surface of this torture. It goes beyond time and consciousness, it is just a thing that is and always has been: I lose myself in the sensation, forget my name, forget the shape of my body, so morphed is it by agony. I forget my very existence. The only thing I can remember is the only thing I can feel, torn flesh and cracked bone, from the corner of my left eye and down the full length of my cheek.
This state of me, that is defined by broken nerves, lasts an indeterminable amount of time and then, finally, his voice breaks through.
"... I need you to respond, Benjamin."
"How many times has this happened?" My voice is thick, dry, and my lips stick together as I speak. By the time I have finished, I am panting. Too much energy for such weak words but beneath the pressure of my ruined eye, even collecting my thoughts together enough to open my mouth is just about beyond me.
There is laughter.
"You have woken six times. This is the first you have shown of lucidity."
I gather the scattered remains of man, pulling them together just fast enough to prevent the world from fading again.
I can see. It is the first thing that matters. Before I notice any details of my location, I notice that I am still capable of sight. And it makes this bland box the most beautiful thing in the world.
"Ben, can you look at me?"
"Null?"
He crouches over me, leaning in too close. His face remains half covered by shadow, nothing so intricate as before, but still enough to obscure him. All I can see is a wide smile, a smile that seems oddly genuine.
"Oh aren't you a beautiful thing," he grins, "I think you might actually be powerful enough to live."
My face hurts so much that it echoes down through my teeth, out through my chest, and into my toes. My whole body is tired and hurting, rusted and broken. And still there is only one thing that matters, one tiny thing.
"Is it gone? Did you take it?"
Null sighs, shifting himself so that he sits at my side. There is an awkwardness to his movement and eventually I realise he has two fingers placed carefully across my face. The lightness of his touch remains hidden beneath clouds of pain but I am still hit by sudden panic. Is he actually holding the two halves of my face together?
"Benjamin, there are a lot of things that I know how to do. I know a multitude of ways to disable a man's ability to access his magic, make it so that he might never use his talents again. But to fully remove a man's power and still have him live? That's impossible, my boy, truly impossible. No matter how much you hate it, you need that magic as much as you need the air to breathe."
"You said you were the man that had a deal with the impossible."
"Son, I am also the man that murders kings and manipulates Kin. I have started war, tempted angels, and have sacrificed fathers, daughters, mothers, and sons. Boy, it is my name that they are too afraid to whisper to naughty children because I am the only monster on the face of the earth that could make their threats come true; if he wants you, Null will get you. Did you really think I wouldn't be able to tell a lie?"
The concept of betrayal is too heavy to process in this moment. I'm still only half of what I should be, thirsty, and hurting. I only have to know, know if it's gone.
"My magic? What did you do to me?"
Null shuffles and this time I can feel the pressure of his fingers on my cracked skull. I cannot prevent the cry from leaving my lips but he doesn't notice, resting a chin on his free hand.
"I've tried this before, you know," he muses, "you're one of only a handful that have the magical strength to even wake up again. Most just leech dry, it's a terrible thing."
"I don't want strength. I want it gone."
Null appears to ignore me, and it is too much trouble to try and force him into consideration. Pain has stolen any final vestiges of my tattered concentration and all I really want to do is try and work out what really is possible in this traitorous world of mine.
"Could you just leave me alone?" I beg, closing eyelids made heavy by the deep burn of my face. Perhaps sleep would ease the agony.
"Ah, no," Null removes his fingers from his chin to point excitedly my way. "I'm the only thing keeping you alive at the moment my boy."
"What did you do to me?"
"On that matter, I may need to start from the beginning," he says, entirely guiltlessly. "I have made you quite a being to be reckoned with. It's something I found in an old book, you know how these things go." He laughs, as though this is nothing but a discussion over tea and biscuits.
When I make no reply but the endless rattle of my dry breathing, he finally grows serious.
"Benjamin," he says, "I trust you are aware of the body's meridian lines."
"Magic runs through the wrists, breast, and through the skull, from the corner of both eyes."
"Indeed my boy. And what I have done is little more than open one of them up."
"You did what?"
"I opened one of the meridians of your eye, boy. It's something I've been experimenting with for a while. It has the power to increase your magical potential tenfold."
"I didn't want it increased!"
I try and stand but as I move, Null's fingers shift on my open face. Very quickly I decide to curb my anger rather than awaken any further agony. He pushes me gently back onto the bed.
"Listen, Benjamin. You have to listen to me. I'm losing patience, and if you're not self-sufficient by the time that happens, I will simply allow you to die. Do you understand me?"
"Yes."
"Say it again."
"I understand. I'm not a child."
Null laughs, good-natured at the drop of a hat.
"The concept of it all is that your magic no longer needs to travel down to your wrists before you can use it, it comes straight from the line I have opened. Do you understand?"
"I'm angry, not stupid."
"Good boy. I can work with anger."
He grins but I make no response other than dully watching the shadows play with the surface of his face.
"The problem," he says, "is that if I were to let go of you right now, all the magic in your body would simply run dry, like if I were to put a gash in the bottom of a sack of flour... or some other suitable metaphor." He waves the words away carelessly, as though the imagery isn't important. "A certain degree of control is required," he says, "You need to focus on your latent power and keep it running down those lines, whilst simultaneously preventing it from escaping."
I close my eyes, dream of soft pillows and being home. I try and pretend that none of this is happening.
"Benjamin, not many people are quite so trying to my patience as you."
"I can't control it," I snap. "I came to you because I couldn't control my magic. That is why I came."
"If you don't control it, you'll die."
"Then just let me go. I'll let it run out, that way you'll keep your promise and I can stop worrying."
"Don't test me."
"Why should I do anything for you?"
"Fine," Null growls, "if that's what you want."
He draws back, removing his touch from my face, and so many things happen in a single moment that I am unable to process anything until his fingers are back in position and the world calm once more.
If I had thought the wind a violent thing before, it was nothing to how it changes in that scrap of a second. With a screech like a dying beast, it explodes into life. Anything not chained down is thrown furiously against the walls. And at that, even the walls awaken in response, rumbling ominously.
As everything settles back into place, I collapse to panting at Null's side. My head swells with the familiar ache of magical overextension, just another hurt layered on top of my punished body, and all in a single second. I just lie there and collect myself, staring wide-eyed at the cracks in the floor.
"I moved stone," I murmur, "I'm never strong enough to move stone," not unless I have dragons on my side.
Null whistles, a low warble of admiration. It's the most expressive I have ever seen him.
"I hadn't even experimented with that," he breathes, "that was something else. Boy, that was just what happens when you don't focus yourself."
I nod weakly, allowing my tired head to fall over onto my shoulder. Null follows the movement, keeping his hold on my face.
"I'm going to let go again," he says, "I've spent the last three days with you, Benjamin, which, quite frankly is unfair. There's a young lady whom I have left hanging on a matter somewhat similar to your own."
"You lied to her about taking her magic?"
"No, I told her the truth about giving it back."
He shuffles and I flush hot with panic.
"No, wait. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. How do I hold it in?"
"Come now, Benjamin, it's your magic; you should be familiar with it by now. If I told you to hold your breath, you'd manage that, wouldn't you?"
"It's not that easy."
In a moment of desperation, I wrap my fingers around his wrist. Null stands anyway. I remain sitting, my grip still tight on his arm, and he sighs.
"Learn fast, Benjamin," he says, teasing my fingers from his wrist, and leaves.
Abandoned in my sudden hurricane, I scream. The sound could come from any source, from anger, frustration, or pain. I doesn't matter. All that matters is my face, the solid wind that beats against my back, and the cracks beneath my feet.
In all honesty, I'm embarrassing myself. If I really am going to go down in a blaze of wind and rubble, it's too dramatic a setting to be screaming like a girl.
And I'm not really dying, or at least it doesn't feel like it. The wind doesn't scare me, and whilst the crumbling rock is a worrying thing, I've never been hurt by my own abilities. These manifestations, as they are, destroy the room, but make no move to touch me. They certainly don't worry me.
And after a second, I realise that the underlying desire to keep things away from my burning face has the wind avoiding my hair.
For the first time, my magic bows to some will of my own.
I laugh, even as I begin to feel dizzy.
"That's control," I scream, bordering on hysterical, "that's control!"
Control it might be, but as I sway worryingly, I find myself wondering if it will be enough.
A.N. Pestering you again! Don't forget to vote, comment, nominate, fall in love, stalk, etc... I know you know the drill, I'm just irritating you for kicks and giggles :)