#is to intentionally agitate me and then use my being upset as an excuse to physically assault me

[karpie-diem]

Hm

[angstmatsuscenarios]

Jyushimatsu subconsciously is afraid of Osomatsu after the event of episode 24 and the others realize. (I'm sorry, my English is kinda bad??)

(Your English is fine, no worries!)

Hope this is good!! Warning for minor violence (nothing graphic) and some language under the cut:

Jyushimatsu wasn’t sure why he felt this way. He didn’t know why he felt the need to be so careful around Osomatsu, to keep a smile plastered on his face and the tone light and happy, as if he needed to tiptoe around his own brother. He couldn’t comprehend precisely why a sense of unease and worry filled him whenever Osomatsu seemed even a little agitated, even if it wasn’t directed at him.

All he knew was that these feelings started up the night before Choromatsu moved out, the night Osomatsu snapped and kicked him, and didn’t abate even once everyone had moved back home.

It didn’t occur to Jyushimatsu that maybe, just maybe, he was afraid of Osomatsu.

———-

It was the other brothers who picked up on it first.

Ichimatsu, who was often closest to Jyushimatsu, would notice the way Jyushimatsu would tense up when Osomatsu entered the room, his smile frozen in place, then relax once he saw the eldest was in a good mood. Choromatsu caught on to the way Jyushimatsu flinched as Osomatsu raised his voice while in an argument with Karamatsu one time. And Todomatsu was the one to realize that suddenly, Jyushimatsu seemed a whole lot happier and at ease when Osomatsu wasn’t around.

Jyushimatsu could be quirky sometimes, granted, but it was enough to concern the other brothers to the point where holding a private meeting, just the four of them, to discuss the problem became necessary.

“Something’s wrong with Jyushi. Do you notice how weird he gets when Oso’s around now?” Todomatsu asked, nibbling his lower lip.

“He’s always smiling, and yet…it seems when Osomatsu is around, some of that radiance is diminished,” Karamatsu surmised, his forehead creased with worry. “He’s almost skittish, in a way.”

“That’s just the word I was going to use,” Choromatsu said, frowning anxiously. “He’s not himself…it’s like he’s scared of Oso. But he wasn’t like this before we all moved out, only now…”  

“Wait.” Realization flickered in Ichimatsu’s eyes. “Before we moved out….you remember what happened the night before you left, right, Choromatsu?”

“You mean my celebratory dinner? How could I forget, Oso completely ruined it when he…” Choromatsu’s voice trailed off, and his expression darkened as the realization struck him, too. “Oh my god…do you really think he’s…?”

“Jyushimatsu is…he’s afraid Osomatsu is going to lose it again, isn’t he?” Todomatsu said aloud, eyes wide in shock. “That has to be it! That explains everything!”

“If that’s the case, something has to be done about it,” Karamatsu stated gravely. “It’s not good for Jyushimatsu to live in fear…and it’s not good for Osomatsu to be oblivious to the fact that his actions have consequences.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more, Kara,” Choromatsu conceded. “But…what are we going to do?”

The brothers lapsed into silence again, stumped. It wouldn’t be easy to approach either brother directly on the topic—Jyushimatsu was likely to deny it and keep up his cheerful charade, while Osomatsu was apt to get defensive. It wouldn’t be good for either of them to get too upset to be reasoned with. This was something they’d have to consider before taking action.

Unless, of course, anything happened to bring the issue to light for both of them.

—————

They heard the front door slam shut before Osomatsu’s voice boomed menacingly from the front hallway.

“Okay, who took it?” he demanded, storming into the living room where the rest of his brothers were congregated.

Ichimatsu noticed as Jyushimatsu tensed, eyes locked on Osomatsu, his grin forced and faked.

“Took what, Nii-San?” Todomatsu asked, glancing up from his phone.

“My wallet! I got all the way to the horse races before I realized it was gone!” Osomatsu’s voice rose as he glowered at his brothers. “It was in my jacket pocket since yesterday. I know one of you had to have taken it!”

“Did it occur to you that maybe you lost it somewhere yourself?” Choromatsu lifted his eyes from his magazine and glared at Osomatsu. “We don’t go around stealing each other’s wallets all the time, unlike you.”

“Oh, cut it out, Choro!” Osomatsu growled. “You’re always acting like you’re better than everyone else! You’re not, you’re just a piece of shit like the rest of us!”

“What does this have to do with anything right now?” Choromatsu wanted to know, scowling at the eldest as he rose to his feet and squared off against him.

“Because you’re always acting like a goody-goody and I bet you stole my wallet so I couldn’t gamble my money away at the horse races!” Osomatsu accused. “Because you always have to control everyone else!”

“Osomatsu, I did not—!” Choromatsu protested.

From there the argument escalated between the two, and Ichimatsu realized Jyushimatsu was shaking now. His hands, pressed to his mouth, trembled as his gaze darted apprehensively between Osomatsu and Choromatsu…but it lingered fearfully on Osomatsu in particular.

“Brothers, you should—“ Karamatsu ventured, noting Jyushimatsu’s stiff, scared expression as well.

But no one heard him.

“Just cut it out already, Choro!” Osomatsu shouted angrily at his younger brother. “You’re not our parent, so quit acting like you’re above us already!”

“I didn’t—!”

But before Choromatsu could finish, Osomatsu smacked his arm. He probably didn’t intend for it to be that hard, but the shove was enough to make Choromatsu lose his balance, and he stumbled backwards before falling to the floor. Judging by the stunned look on his face and the way he rubbed his arm afterwards, as if in a daze, it was clear Choromatsu hadn’t expected that at all—and that it had hurt more than he wanted to let on.

And that was all it took.

“Osomatsu-niisan!” Jyushimatsu cried frantically, tears inexplicably filling his eyes. “Please don’t hurt Choromatsu!”

Osomatsu whipped around to face Jyushimatsu, still seething, and Jyushimatsu flinched and covered his head with his arms on impulse.

The second he saw that reaction, something in Osomatsu shifted. His expression slowly morphed from one of fury to confusion, and finally to remorse as the scene began to unfold before him. Ichimatsu and Todomatsu rushed in to console Jyushimatsu, who was still teary-eyed and breathing rapidly but not full-on crying, though he looked incredibly shaken. Karamatsu helped Choromatsu back to his feet, asking him questions about his arm, and Choromatsu responded almost faintly that he was fine. He didn’t sound completely fine, though.

Some of the furor that had built up in Osomatsu vanished, replaced by instant guilt. Something was wrong, and it extended beyond him just snapping and hitting Choromatsu just now. The way Jyushimatsu was rocking nervously back and forth, conversing quietly with Ichimatsu and Todomatsu, his trademark smile nowhere in sight…something was going on that he wasn’t completely aware of, something bad.

But judging by the way Todomatsu was currently glaring at him and Ichimatsu stated that they needed to talk about something, Osomatsu knew he would soon find out what.

———-

Karamatsu had taken Choromatsu to the kitchen—to get him ice for the bruise on his arm, he said, but it could’ve just been an excuse to get out of there—leaving Osomatsu sitting on the floor across from his youngest three brothers, lined up on the couch with Jyushimatsu in the middle. The fifth brother was avoiding eye contact with the oldest, much as Osomatsu tried to engage him.

“Jyushi, I—I had no idea this was going on. Why didn’t you tell me I, I scared you?” Osomatsu asked, his voice quiet.

“Why do you think?” Todomatsu snapped, on Jyushimatsu’s behalf. “You said it yourself. He’s scared of you, he probably thought you’d lose it at him for saying that.”

“Is that true, Jyushimatsu?” Osomatsu wondered, heartbroken at the thought.

Jyushimatsu hesitated before nodding slowly, still not meeting the eldest’s gaze. “…yeah. I thought you’d get mad at me again, so I didn’t say anything about how much you upset me. I didn’t even tell the others…”

“It wasn’t hard to figure out,” Ichimatsu said lightly.

Maybe for the others it wasn’t, but Osomatsu hadn’t gleaned it at all, and he felt absolutely terrible for that.

“Jyushi…I’m so sorry.” He sighed heavily. “I didn’t know. I was just so mad that night, and let it get so pent up that I just…blew a fuse. That’s no excuse for hurting you though. I would never want to hurt you or make you scared of me, not intentionally.”

Jyushimatsu finally looked up at Osomatsu then, though his expression didn’t say much.

“And with Choro, just now…” Osomatsu scratched the back of his head as he tried to respond properly. “I don’t know…it was way out of line. I was pissed that I lost my wallet and I didn’t want to take responsibility for it in the end, so I made it about something else and…and then I hurt him. I didn’t mean to do that.”

He thought of Choromatsu now, probably being nursed by Karamatsu in the other room. He hoped like hell that Choromatsu wasn’t afraid of him now, too, after that brutal display.

“I’m…I’m sorry. I’m really, genuinely sorry…I don’t want you to be afraid of me anymore, but I understand if that’ll take time.” Osomatsu tried to smile reassuring at his brother, but he couldn’t make the corners of his mouth turn up quite enough. “Do you think you can give me another chance?”

Jyushimatsu nodded slowly. “Yeah…I want to. Thanks, Nii-San.” He still wasn’t quite his usual, chipper self, but at least that had brought out the faintest hint of a smile again.

“Okay…I’m glad.” It was clear to Osomatsu it was going to take some time to mend these wounds and make things right again. But that was okay, he could be patient…and maybe, over time, learn to control his anger better, as well.

He stood to leave. “I’m going to go apologize to Choromatsu now, too…I think he deserves it too. Hopefully he’s alright…” He didn’t want to think too hard about how he’d harmed his brother.

As he turned to walk out of the room though, he heard a small commotion behind him, and before he could move Jyushimatsu had flung his arms around him in a fierce hug.

“I still love you, Nii-San,” Jyushimatsu mumbled into the fleece of Osomatsu’s hoodie, his face buried against the soft material. “I hope you know that.”

Osomatsu smiled just a tiny bit, turning to hug Jyushimatsu right back. Even if things weren’t quite right between them now, he had faith they could patch things up again.

“I know, Jyushimatsu. I love you too.”

[ears-awake-eyes-opened]

Taking personal responsibility

I recognize and acknowledge that I was thinking critically about, writing critically about, and intentionally withdrawing from my relationship with N for weeks before she discarded me.

Looking back on my own words between August 10th (the day I realized I needed to withdraw) and September 9th (the day she blocked me), I can see how she could have FELT criticized. The criticism I felt, however, was toward myself for adoring her and wanting her, despite (or more accurately BECAUSE of) her emotional unavailability, intermittent reinforcement, and charm. I can also see how she might have felt shamed and abandoned. Shaming and abandonment were not my intentions.

My intention was to be fully realistic with myself so I would hopefully listen to my own sense of reason and hopefully stop wanting more than I could have with her. I can see how she both misunderstood and understood my intentions.

I’m not sure yet what apology to send out to the universe beyond the incomplete one I already gave her, which was “I’m sorry you felt dishonored by my words. Dishonoring you would never be my intention.” I’ll be reflecting on an apology that would feel more complete and responsible to me.

I recognize and acknowledge that I was the one to end the relationship (having decided to not see her for an undetermined/indefinite period of time) even though I had not yet communicated that clearly to her (and might not have ever been comfortable communicating that clearly if she hadn’t discarded me).

It is my intention to add to this post as I recognize more about my own responsibility in and for the ending of that relationship.

All this said, I realize that me accepting responsibility for my part is the cocreation of that unhealthy relationship dynamic does not excuse the fact that her words in the end were dismissive and her action (blocking without explanation) was abusive, whether or not abuse was her intention. Would she say the same about my words and actions in the end? Perhaps. I acknowledge that she might.

Accepting responsibility for my part also does not change the fact that she manipulated me throughout the duration of our relationship, whether or not manipulation was her intention.

In the end, I somehow managed to prioritize my health over my love for her and over my obsession with her. By divine grace, I managed to do this even as my body cried and screamed for her. Unfortunately I couldn’t find a way to prioritize my health AND stay in relationship with her, because there wasn’t a way to be found. Throughout that relationship I was reenacting trauma, and maybe she was too. My apology will include that.

That re-enactment is done. She discarded me by divine grace. By divine grace I recognized the discard as abuse, and I called a permanent ending. By divine grace, I’m coming to see my own responsibility in that dynamic and its end.

By divine grace, I will love her forever, even as the limerence ends and the trauma heals. I feel no animosity toward her. And at the same time, I recognize that I can’t allow her to touch me again and I can’t be in relationship with that chaos 🌪.

Addendum: Shame

I feel shame about not clearly communicating my feelings and needs in the relationship. I recognize I tried, and my attempts were met with various forms of resistance. The first time I made the request, it took her 5 weeks to find time to meet with me. Then she tried to overwrite my reality and explain away the intensities I expressed to her (limerence, agitation, fear) as religious experiences rather than a problem within the relationship dynamic. That overwriting my reality with her own explanation/understanding happened on a few occasions (each time I expressed those feelings). The trouble was I didn’t fully understand what was going on until September (i.e. trauma re-enactment). I couldn’t make sense of my reality, let alone explain it to her.

I feel shame about not communicating to her that her empty promises (“over-promising” as she later called it) needed to stop. If I had set this boundary back in April when I first realized that most of her promises were empty ones, this might have changed the course of the relationship. That said, my limerence at that point was intense (because of my inner response to her charming behaviors including the false promises). I suspected that if I told her that I needed reliability and asked her to please only make plans with me if she knew she could follow through, then the result of that conversation would be her never making plans with me, and me never seeing her. I recognized the chaos in her life and the limits of her capacity.

I feel shame about withdrawing to an extent from the relationship in August without communicating my intentions. Those intentions were to not interact with her Facebook and not see her until I could figure out how to shift my feelings for her and get off the emotional roller coaster of flying-certain-uncertain-impossible-deflated). I recognize that communicating those intentions and the reason I needed to withdraw, might have changed the course of the relationship.

That said, I did try to explain myself in a note to her on my birthday, and she didn’t have the capacity to hear what I was saying. She took the note as a criticism of her rather than the open vulnerability with which it was intended. Despite recognizing her lack of capacity for understanding and her overwhelm with her own life, I feel shame that I wasn’t able to communicate my intentions clearly. I could have stated directly that I wasn’t going to be interacting with her anymore and why. But I didn’t. I really didn’t want that to be true. If I told her, that would make it true.

I feel shame about expressing on Facebook some of the insights that I acquired in that birthday communication with her. Even though I said nothing about her, even though her account was deactivated at the time, even though freely expressing my insights was exactly what I used my Facebook for, I still feel shame about this because she was upset when she saw those posts later. She felt criticized and dishonored. I made those posts for ME. It was important to me to express the truth of my understanding. I could have expressed my insights directly to her. If I had done so, that might have changed the course of the relationship.

That said, I didn’t want to express them to her. I recognized she didn’t have the capacity to hear them. I had already bared my soul to her on my birthday, and she didn’t acknowledge my experience nor did she even wish me happy birthday. I already understood at that point that she didn’t have the capacity to meet my basic needs in friendship and that we wanted different things, i.e. there was a lack of compatibly of needs. I was already understanding that the relationship was over by MY choice. Posting those insights solidified my understanding. Her discard cemented my understanding.

I feel shame about my unwillingness to “mend” the relationship in the future and shame about communicating that to her (that communication upset her such that she immediately blocked me again). I knew expressing that would upset her. I did it anyway to communicate my boundary, and draw a permanent end to the relationship. The bottom line is I don’t want to repair a relationship with someone who manipulated and abused me, even if those weren’t her intentions. I don’t want to repair a relationship that held a toxicity for me from the beginning. I don’t want to repair a relationship that was a trauma re-enactment rather than a friendship. I don’t want to repair a relationship with someone I experience to be a narcissist.

I feel shame that I kept seeing her once I recognized the relationship dynamic was unhealthy and I recognized I was experiencing trauma in the relationship. I understand the addictiveness was a function of the toxic dynamic/attachment trauma.

I recognize in each moment of that relationship I did the best I could at the time. I tried as best as I could to balance compassion for her with my own needs. In the end my needs finally came first.

The relationship revealed to me that I had been experiencing trauma re-enactment, not just with her, but in past relationships and behaviors as well. It revealed my CPTSD. It revealed how my attraction to manipulation (i.e. charm, emotional unavailability, and intermittent reinforcement) stems from relational trauma in my early life attachments, especially with my mom. Through that relationship with N, I came to embrace and celebrate my sexuality, whatever it may be. That relationship set me on a path to choose to grow a conscious understanding of God.

That relationship came into my life through divine grace. It was full of divine grace. And it ended through divine grace. That understanding eases my feelings of shame for not doing it perfectly and not being able to “make it work.”

I send this apology out into the universe. Perhaps I’ll be able to offer it in person someday.

Dear N,

I’m reaching out to apologize for contributing to suffering with my words and actions. I know you’re busy with the important work of your life. This message is here if ever you have time and desire to read it. There is no need to respond if you don’t wish to respond. I don’t want any more time to pass before offering you my sincere apologies.

I’m sorry the insights I expressed on Facebook had the effect of you feeling criticized. My intentions were to reflect, think critically, and be realistic with myself in the hope that I would stop wanting more connection than I could have with you. I’m sorry I didn’t anticipate how you might feel if you reactivated your account and read my written reflections. I can understand how seeing those may have caused you pain.

I understand I was reenacting trauma in my relationship with you. This was unconsciously done. Until late September, I didn’t even understand what had been happening. Through recovery work, I’ve learned that trauma reenactment is an effect of attachment injury and a sign of CPTSD.

I should not have pursued a new friendship with anyone until at least 6 months to a year after being discarded in that prior relationship. I don’t regret the time you and I spent together. I apologize for not waiting the recommended amount of time for my nervous system to heal after years in that prior relationship (in which I was reenacting the trauma I experienced during the political activism... which was reenacting the relational trauma in my family of origin... in which my mom was reenacting her childhood trauma... and so on). I’ve come to understand that changing this 🌪 pattern in my lineage is currently my soul’s purpose.

I apologize for starting to withdraw from our friendship in August without communicating to you my intention. My intention was to not see you until I could shift my feelings and get off the emotional roller coaster I had been experiencing since February: flying(when I was with you)-certain-uncertain-impossible-deflated(most of the time). Each time before seeing you, I was terrified and thrilled because I knew the roller coaster would start over again. At the time I didn’t know why I was terrified, I just knew I was very afraid. The pattern of brief highs and protracted lows was torturous for me. I understand the pattern was an effect of the trauma reenactment. Reenacting trauma in that way (limerence) can be so painful and feel so inescapable that some people commit suicide.

I didn’t want my intention (to not see you) to be true, and if I communicated it to you, that would have cemented its truth. Right up until the end, I kept trying to think of another way. For months, I’ve understood that you and I have different needs in friendship, and our needs aren’t compatible, but I kept trying to make a friendship work because my feelings for you of love and shared interests were very genuine. I apologize for not accepting the reality of the situation much sooner. I understand that trying to make impossible situations work is a pattern of my nervous system, an effect of my attachment injuries. I’m working to heal those injuries, and I’m changing that pattern.

I recognize my decisions contributed to the ending of our friendship. I apologize for any suffering that may have caused you. I’m sorry if my unwillingness to try to mend our connection in the future brought you additional pain. With those decisions, I prioritized my needs over the powerful desire I had for us to be in relationship and over my thought for your feelings.

I apologize for not clearly communicating to you my feelings and needs throughout the months we were in relationship. The more I value a relationship, the harder it is for me to express my feelings and needs. This is an effect of my early life attachment trauma and a challenge I’m facing in recovery.

I’m grateful to have been in relationship with you and for the profound awareness that has come to me through that soul work. I care dearly about you and your family. That will not change. I’m deeply sorry it couldn’t work for us to continue in relationship. I’m still grieving that reality. I’m sorry for not communicating that to you directly and for causing suffering. It is my ongoing hope for your life to be full of joy.

***

Reasons I’m not sending this apology:

The apology feels disingenuous, like a manipulation of the truth, like when I was forced as a kid to apologize for actions that weren’t my fault.

It’s unwise to be vulnerable with someone who discarded (abused) me, showed no remorse for doing so, and showed no empathy for me when I reached out to her compassionately before and after the discard.

Divulging my experience with reenacting trauma in the relationship is an intimate and vulnerable confidence, and she and I are not confidantes. I don’t trust her because she manipulated and abused me, and I want no relationship with her now or in the future. It’s not wise to talk about trauma reenactment and CPTSD with anyone I don’t trust.

As of our last contacts in September, she seemed emotionally unstable and did not have the capacity to hear me. Realistically I doubt she’d have had the time, space, or interest in receiving an apology. My feeling is that the message would be a burden to her. My feeling is that she detached from our relationship the way she did from her 3 former marriages and anyone else she has ever broken up with in her life. My feeling is she felt some degree of responsibility herself and/or animosity toward me for a while and then chalked the experience up to karma and the control of the god/universe to avoid any feeling of shame, abandonment, etc. My feeling is she probably wrote me off and has hardly thought of me since I hid myself on messenger or she’s not thought of me at all.

I don’t think she’s a pathological narcissist, but I experienced her to be a narcissist: love bombing, empty/broken promises, seduction, lack of concern for my feelings and needs, emotional unavailability, intermittent reinforcement (*sometimes* getting back to me, *sometimes* showing up), feelings as facts, and discard. With narcissists, no contact is the wisest choice for me.

The only thing I actually did “wrong” in that relationship was to stay in it long after I noticed red flags. I recognized our needs aren’t compatible, and I continued trying to make the relationship work. Those aren’t actions I need to apologize to her for in order to make amends. I can simply make amends by continuing to work daily on my nervous system so I will be able to pay attention to red flags when they show up in future relationships, and so I will no longer try to make impossible situations/fantasy relationships work.

By staying in the relationship I cocreated that unhealthy dynamic, but I actually didn’t “cause” her suffering. She FELT criticized, and I can see how she may have felt that way, but I actually didn’t criticize her. There’s no need to apologize for truthful insightful expression on Facebook that was inspired by my conversation with her, but that didn’t malign her or even mention her, and that I didn’t expect her to see because her account was deactivated. If a truth hurts, a person can choose to ask themselves why it hurts. Eviscerating the truth teller doesn’t change the truth. This is why she discarded me and this is what I feel shame about. But if there had been space in the relationship to tell her my insights I would have gladly done so. The only person’s suffering I actually “caused” was my own with the self-torture of staying in a relationship dynamic that was reenacting trauma.

I actually tried several times to communicate my feelings and needs. There just wasn’t space for me to do so, even on my birthday. On the occasions when I did so anyway, she minimized my feelings, brushed them aside, tried to overwrite my reality, openly said she didn’t have time to hear me, and/or she didn’t actually have the capacity to hear me. I don’t need to make amends to her for not communicating my needs clearly. I tried. I will continue with recovery work so I can keep growing my capacity to express my feelings and assert my needs with anyone.

I’m actually not sorry for ending the relationship or refusing to mend it in the future. There is no need to apologize for putting my needs first in my relationships. I can’t take responsibility for her feelings.

I realize the shame which lingers in me regarding that relationship is not healthy guilt. I really did nothing wrong, but I feel badly anyway. I’m pretty sure it’s toxic shame that’s connected to my early life attachment trauma, and is not actually about N. Repairing those injuries and releasing that shame is why I’m doing recovery work.

[grandestblood]

Chapter 02: Hello and Goodbye

The end of the month drew near with the moon full and bright overhead. But even with the soft light it graced the land underneath, the oasis was still foreshadowed with unusual darkness as though light will succumb to an unending void at any given moment. A gentle breeze was all it took for me to shudder on this chilly night while a cicada broke the uncomfortable silence. Footsteps befell the earth like silent cries of fatigue. I knew we both needed the relief of a good night’s rest but we proceeded nevertheless. Neither one of us made a sound until we arrived where Sir Neiro awaited together with Sir Theon and a hooded figure. I had no idea why Sir Theon was present, but I followed Casra despite her discouragement because I had to see this through under the grace of the high priest; his still unopened letter weighed as much as the Musæum’s reputation in my hand. If I had let Casra out of my sight, she could have turned back on her patron yet again and that could cause the Musæum to lose a valuable sponsor. We halted a few strides away from the professors and they immediately averted their eyes from each other to focus on us.

“Thank you for entertaining this evaluation, miss Casra.” Sir Theon welcomed us and though his greeting was well worded, he still sounded agitated.

Casra did not so much as pay him a glance much less a phrase of acknowledgement, not even an apology that our mentor would have probably liked, as she walked passed between the two of them making an aisle for herself as if they weren’t standing there. Sir Neiro furrowed his brows together at the display of utter disrespect but if he had anything to say, he kept his words to himself just like always. Casra faced the hooded figure with the same nonchalance she had from the moment we started pacing along the halls of the dormitory until she waltzed between the minimal space our mentors had. She removed her robe and discarded it on the ground but kept her scepter in her left hand.

“I suggest you do the same,” she said…or rather ordered?

After discarding removed her robe, I saw what she wore under it. Strangely enough, she wore a full black armor with intricate gold designs. Was it made from Romania? I had never seen such metalwork before, not even during my travels with my father. It didn’t seem to be either bronze nor iron. Looking at it, I felt like it didn’t even belong to any continent like its maker wasn’t from around here. Were people able to make such designs already? It was made out of metal plates linked together by materials I did not know. Its spaulders made her shoulders seem a bit broader. Even her hands and her fingers were covered by metal one by one. Her knuckles were laid with spikes. I wondered if they could be lethal if she threw a punch. Her thighs were each covered down to her toes by these linked metal plates. She wore a hauberk and red chausses under them all. The components of the armor looked heavy. She knew she will be tested in combat, but how could she move around in that? Since when could mages fight in armors? She looked like she was ready for war.

“Miss Casra,” Sir Theon tried to get her attention. “If you continue such attitude, the patron might fail your evaluation regardless of the results.”

Casra turned to look at him but that was all she did as a response.

“How dare you,” the hooded figure spoke. I could see his mouth from the shadows his hood provided. “What right have you to order me around, unclean woman?”

Unclean? Casra was undoubtedly rude and she could be penalized for that. But to insult her as such was below the belt. I wished I could intervene but the patron might get even more upset if I did. And if that angered Casra, she just might get angrier if I said anyt-

“Excuse my short memory!” she exclaimed, and to my surprise, she was laughing so gleefully. She never laughed when we were around other people. Did she know this man? It didn’t seem to be their first time meeting. “I forgot you already have a master and I cannot buy such fine slave.”

Sir Theon gave me a look as Casra bowed to her patron in jester. I frowned. It was strange that they kept bantering like that, even more suspicious than the sudden change in the way she usually talked. As if it couldn’t get even weirder, the patron took his cloak off and discarded it away. He seemed to hate being ordered around but he complied, anyway. I could recognize the sharp contours of his face, framed by long and wavy dark hair and his intense hazel eyes staring at Casra intently as if we weren’t here. He also wore an armor but it was all white with blue relief carvings and not a full plate like hers although it still looked as foreign and complicated. Compared to how Casra was covered in every nook and cranny, only his shoulders, chest, legs, and feet were armored. He wore a white gambeson that resembled chiton underneath it as well as a pair of white chausses that were tucked inside his greaves. I scrutinized him a little more until I saw his sword hanging quietly in its sheath at his waist. As if on cue, he drew it and got into a fighting stance. His sword was the most intriguing. It was almost five feet long and about four inches wide and surely it weighed heavier than the rest of his armor.

“Eh?” Casra arched a brow. “Do you really want to fight here?”

“That’s what I came here to do,” said the man. “And you? Do you intend to fight me with a stick?”

“This?” Casra raised her scepter, twirled it a few times before discarding it as well with a shrug. Huh? Wait! How will she fight bare-handed? “The truth is, this cloak and scepter are my most hated pieces of decor. I do not really have a use for them.”

“Pick up your stupid scepter!” I finally found my voice to speak in the midst of the tension. “Casra, this is your damn evaluation as a scholar! You cannot fight without your weapon! Are you intentionally failing this?”

Casra did not answer. The patron raised his broadsword to his right side with both hands, putting his left foot forward for good balance, and swiftly brandished his sword, not listening to a single word. Casra didn’t dodge nor did she try to block it. She caught the blade with an armored hand and brought it down together with its weilder so that she could connect her knee to his face. He stumbled backward from the force after Casra let go of his sword before steadying his stance once again and preparing to strike her. But before he could close the distance, she strode to meet his direction, blocked his sword with her gauntlet and punched him in the face, answering the musing I had a while ago. He was sent flying and he hit a tree before slumping on the ground, only bearing his weight by leaning on his sword that he stuck in the soil. So this is why she did not need her ‘stick’.

“What’s wrong?” Casra questioned but her tone was more of a statement. “Aren’t you going to use your magick?”

“Do not order me around,” the patron stood steadily, fortifying his stance. “There are still humans watching us.”

Humans?

That was a very outlandish thing to say, as though the two of them weren’t humans. But somehow, I felt like it wasn’t a joke that someone like Casra was not human. Even the patron seemed inhuman. He did not take damage from the blows he received. I supposed there should be a mark on his face from that kind of punch especially because of the knuckles of her gauntlet. He should have bled, in fact. But he looked totally unfazed, only a little bit thrown out of balance. That convinced me this man was more off an oddball than Casra. But what about her? That strength surpassed earthly limitations.

“Then how about a change of scenario?” Casra smiled, raising her right arm. I had no idea what she’s talking about. She didn’t chant anything but I immediately felt power from her fingertips as she pointed her palm above. “Neiro, I want to show you the result of my research.”

The ground beneath us shook lightly at first I almost couldn’t feel it. Then a crack crept from the woods. My knees felt weak as the tremors began to become violent. The ground moved, destroying our surroundings. My heart hammered in my chest as I finally dropped on the ground – which rose like pillars. The geology mentor did everything he could to prevent us from slipping off until all the shaking finally stilled. We were stranded on one pillar, separated from the two other pillars on which the patron and Casra stood with a great chasm between them and us filled with other identical posts and deadly spikes that gleamed like a sea of smiling needles below. We all rose higher and higher until we reached a deadly height. Sir Theon was already shouting at Casra to stop this madness while Sir Neiro tried to contact the high priest with his familiar. True to her words, the scenario changed drastically from an oasis to one high above the Musaeum where death surely awaited if we made a mistake of overstepping our bounds and plummet back to the earth below. That mistake was horrifyingly hard not to make with what little space we had left to us that I almost felt claustrophobic if not for the open space that the sky air provided.

“Casra, i-is t-this a forbidden magick?” I cursed myself for stuttering when I wanted nothing more than to be angry at her. Whether this magick was legal or not, it was too dangerous to cast. If her ability failed us, our bodies will end up a bloody pulp back in the Musæum in case its foundation was left unscathed by the disturbance of the ground. She didn’t think…of killing anyone, did she? I shuddered at the thought but the devious smile on her beautiful face betrayed any hope I had for our friendship. It was almost as if I did not know who she was anymore. I further lost blood from my face as she stepped backwards out of her pillar. My heart stopped beating for a second, thinking I almost witnessed my best friend kill herself. But she stayed afloat in the midst of pillars and menacing needles. There could only be one word to explain it.

“Levitation?” It was Sir Theon who named it. It was the first time I felt fear gnaw at my innards as I vomit my most recent meal which was only a jug of water at the edge of our pillar. Wrong move. One look at the abyss below and I immediately threw up the rest of my earlier meals as well until I felt like puking out my intestines. When I couldn’t vomit any longer, I staggered to be back on my feet and affixed my glare on Casra and her cursed smile. It almost petrified me on my spot. With the way things went, how could this night end? The glint in Casra’s eyes showed more hidden meaning behind her words and I knew I wasn’t the only one who felt the urge to know more. I could see from the corner of my eyes how Sir Theon was on the verge of dragging Casra back into the lecture hall to interrogate and scold her about tonight’s events if only death won’t be met along the way. Is this what she meant when she said sorry? Sorry because if we got here she’d act extremely rude and confuse the hell out of me? Sorry for threatening our lives just to cheat out of her evaluation with a default win? Or did she apologize for making light of this situation?

“Usmu, you better think up a better excuse than that,” Casra spoke. “Look, I’ve already set up the stadium and made VIP seats for the humans.”

The patron refused to spare us a glance. What was Casra thinking? This way, the patron couldn’t fight her. The fight became one-sided due to her levitation – a spell that I was very certain was considered lost magick. Did she think of making the patron give up this way? And that language again. Why did they call us humans? That made my stomach churn more disapprovingly than before.

“Wipe that foolish smile off from that counterfeit face,” the patron spat venomously, glaring at Casra even more vindictive than I could.

I did not have much time to dwell on those words as a blinding light came from the patron, whose name was apparently Usmu, and I had to shield my eyes from it. The next thing I knew, Casra was moving from her previous lying in mid-air position to a fighting stance, her left hand drawn back into a fist while her right poised in a taunting position, daring any challenger to meet the charging force of her left. Her legs were parted with much of her weight falling on her right foot as she bent it forward with her left supporting her at the back so she could shift her weight freely and change her stance for a counter-attack. How she managed to look stable with her footing while she was still afloat was beyond my comprehension but she caught a blow from a broadsword after slightly titling her torso and deflected it with a punch. What surprised me was not the inhuman strength that came from her fist which sent Usmu swerving to his right but the fact that the patron was flying towards her.

He fluttered about, a pair of white wings that seemed to emit a soft glow of light sprouting from his back and lifting him in the air with each powerful downward flap each time he would be free falling due to the acceleration of gravity. Figuring out that he stood no chance in close range, he leapt away, acutely circling like an eagle before landing on a pillar about forty yards away from Casra. But as his feet landed on the solid surface, more than ten gigantic spikes emerged from below. The spikes would have skewered him right then and there if he had not vanished on time. That’s right. He didn’t evade the spikes. He turned translucent before turning into a faint light. And then he was gone. It happened all within a split-second. He vanished out of thin air like a spectre. I scanned the rest of the pillars, refusing to believe that the spikes actually hit him and sublimated his whole existence because then that would mean that Casra just killed her patron. What would happen to her scholarship? Or rather, won’t she go to jail? I frantically moved my eyes, looking for a dark haired man with white wings. By now, I fully understood that he was no man at all. Their speech was the biggest give away but it was an undeniable display of supernatural power that exceeded the limit of magick to be able to grow wings from his back and disappear out of nowhere. I won’t be surprised if he could cast the lost magick of teleportation but even that didn’t fit how fast that action was as though it was as normal for him as breathing was for us.

“Hey, Usmu,” Casra called as she floated above the dark night clouds, getting into a sitting position with her right leg crossed over her left and her chin propped on her left palm while she rested her left elbow on her dominant knee. “Stop wasting my time. You stormed this place without consideration for its people. And now you’re holding back? You should have thought about this before you made a freak show out of yourself.”

For someone who was fighting quite exaggeratedly a while ago, her words and posture became all lax. Surely, someone who exerted that much power in their punches shouldn’t look so…bored.

It may had been because of his wings and the way they seemed to radiate softly that I saw him materialize in the darkness right behind Casra. I was about to shout her a warning but her reflexes were faster than my mouth. However, that did not prevent Usmu from executing his plan. Quickly, the darkness of the night was vanquished as fire engulfed Casra. The fire was big enough that Casra looked like a setting sun with the way she was burning and tainting the darkness with a tinge of orange.

“STOP!” I screamed hoarsely, ignoring the sharp pain from my protesting throat, tears finally trickling down my cheeks. It barely registered in my mind how desperate I sounded. I was supposed to be angry at Casra but right now, I struggled with my better judgment not to jump into the void between us and help her put out the conflagration. I had no word to describe how I felt as I watched my only true friend getting burnt alive right before my eyes. Sir Neiro had to restrain me before I recklessly tried to jump from one pillar to another in order to reach my friend. Sir Theon started to chant one spell after another to interfere with the fire but to no avail. It kept flickering in the darkness, steadily burning Casra. Then the genius mentor did an unexpected and unlikely behavior for a teacher with as much wisdom as he did. He turned his spells towards Usmu, the Musaeum’s sponsor. He already gave up trying to talk sense to him. Each spell the professor unleashed while vehemently screaming profanities at this murderer had a potential to instantly kill even the wildest beast. But all Usmu did was stand there and let the spells continue their barrage. The mentor’s magic had absolutely no effect on him.

I was still trying to throw Professor Neiro off of my back so I could cast my own spells at this man when Sir Theon attempted to jump. The other mentor had his hands full with a hysterical scholar. He probably didn’t even notice when Sir Theon was already at his flight – and inevitable fall.

“Professor!” I shrieked and the man restraining me finally took a glance at his colleague. But it was too late. The only thing he was able to see from the corner of his eye was a sliver of ash brown hair as the genius started to plummet to his death.

“The…on?” It was all the high priest’s associative could manage to utter. We won’t even hear the body hit the ground from this height. In the duration of all that mess, the darkness once again enveloped us. Casra, or the burnt carcass she had become, was quick to follow the professor down. Of course a dead body couldn’t possibly stay afloat.

“…why?” I knew the patron, or whatever the hell he actually is, won’t answer me even if I threatened him but I still tried to ask. “If only we listened to Casra…if only we didn’t come here…”

I was wailing and sobbing. I couldn’t tell my tears or snot apart. Suddenly, a memory resurfaced to my mind. I stared at Usmu, my face aghast and barely had any oxygen left. It became clear as day to me that Sir Neiro and I won’t live to tell the high priest about this. Casra was right. It was unusual that a patron was willing to fight much less that the army will get involved in this. It was all a fabricated lie made in order to draw out magicians. What we trained for all this time. Why Casra did not fight with her scepter. It all became clear. Magick was useless against the killer of mages. Usmu might just be the one from the stories, the one who was targeting us. And we, all four mages of us, just made the mistake of attending to his audience.

“You are…the mage killer?” I whispered under my breath, feeling as though I’ll die sooner if I raised my voice a few decibels higher.

“No, he’s not.”

The voice was a few tones deeper but I’d know that voice anywhere. I turned around to face the source of it, thankful of the heaven that she was alive, but when I saw her – or him – my mouth hang open. There stood a beautiful man with a long flowing hair of the blackest black who had a bronze skin, warm and sun-kissed. His thin pink lips curled into a smirk as I met his eyes that gleamed like molten silver. This man looked as though he commanded the army of Aegyptus himself. His beauty wasn’t anything I had ever seen. His hard chiseled face had strong pronounced jaws and high defined cheekbones. His eyes were big and slanted. I saw a hint of cruelty in them. But somehow, his long thick lashes that gently touched his cheeks when he closed his eyes as he blinked made the rest of his sharp features soften. And that smile was so familiar. Not only that. He also wore the same armor that Casra had on and it fit more appropriately on him. I once again found myself speechless as my tears dried up. He wasn’t Casra but as I stared at him, I felt a sense of nostalgia and familiarity that I could not explain. I felt more than heard a ringing in my ears as he continued to look at me as though he could see right through my very soul.

/p>

Before I could form questions in my head, I noticed he was afloat as well just like how Casra was and Sir Theon was right behind him. The mentor was trying to speak but it looked like he was rendered mute by a hush spell. Still, it was obvious that all of it was directed at this silver-eyed man by the way he shot him sharp glares one after another. The foreigner motioned his hand and the mentor was moved by an unseen force and was softly landed back on his previous space.

“Sir Theon!” I couldn’t help but exclaim as I examined him closely, looking for any sign of injury.

“Are you alright?” Sir Neiro asked his colleague. The other man could only nod an affirmation.

“How was the fire of Shamash?” Usmu broke his silence. All this time he had been quietly watching us and our agony.

The silver-eyed man in the black armor walked on nothing, as though the air solidified under his each step and approached Usmu with a cynical laughter.

“Usmu,” his deep melodic voice sounded. Again, I felt like it was Casra talking. “If you wanted to get your precious little humans involved in this, you should have just said so. I have a perfect plan to smithen the whole capital to flames and embers.”

“Stop it already!” I shouted, my face felt hot as my blood rushed to my head in a fit of rage and anger. “What the hell are you and how are you related to that mage killer? Answer me!”

The dark man simply clicked his tongue. “Tsk, Sid. You should know by now that that rumor was nothing but a farce.”

“What? And why are you-” the words were lost on my tongue as I looked into those silver eyes. The way they curve as the man smiled. The way he lazily lied down while afloat , all relaxed and carefree. And the way he called me by the first syllables of my name. Was he the same person as Casra?

“You see, the Musæum was really strict about their screening most specially among their scholars,” he said with a shrug. “So I spread a rumor and eventually, it served as a leverage for a combatant like me. I have to make myself stand out but that was still not enough. I needed some pedigree. So I disguised myself to be some really outstanding sorceress with great political connections. Simply being a powerful magician was not enough to stand out in the field of experts.”

I felt hollow. My previous vomiting could have had a follow up once again but my stomach was empty and it will remain that way for a long period of time. I didn’t feel like eating even if this turned out to be a bad joke or a twisted nightmare. The apology that she muttered…was it because of this lie? Everything I knew about Casra was a forged identity? I tried to steel my expression as to not give her the satisfaction of seeing myself defeated. But I was. This person crushed me in the worst way possible. I thought of Casra as a friend and she was the only one I had.

“Why did you need to get inside the Musæum?” Sir Neiro asked, facing this infiltrator as the high priest’s associate. Meanwhile, I couldn’t form any coherent thought. I was in a state of shock and panic. Suddenly, I began questioning everything I believed in. I thought that our friendship was something nobody else could appreciate. That we had no boundaries. But the one who couldn’t understand it the most was Casra herself. Because she was just a 'counterfeit face’. I finally understood what those words meant.

“Of course, that has nothing to do with you,” the man spoke once again, his deep melodic voice painfully reminding me of Casra. “Well, now that the cat is out of the bag, it’s the perfect time to bail out. Good night.”

“You are mistaken if you think I will let you go again, criminal fiend,” said Usmu as he began charging at his quarry once again.

The dark man chuckled softly. He raised his hand in the same way Casra did earlier before the air was distorted. There was a flash of light and the fire that illuminated the sky earlier came out of her hand, casting shadows upon us. It burned brightly as a giant fireball over her head. The hard light it radiated let me see the man’s face better. He looked more familar under the light and his bronze skin shone warmly, its tone like that of clay.

“Usmu, this is Shamash’s fire, right?” The man laughed darkly. A chill ran down my spine as those silver eyes bore into me, feeling the vicious killing intent from them. “How do think the sun’s fire will react to a whole structure filled with papyrus scrolls?”

No! I won’t allow that to happen!

“Don’t you care at all about that woman?” Usmu said, looking at my direction for the first time since I got here. “She’s your demon.”

My gaze flickered across to the dark man. The silver eyes wavered for a bit. I thought I saw doubt in them. And then the perfect chiseled face contorted into an expression that I could only liken to a monster.

“I shall make sure you will regret using that on me,” The dark man said and the fire ball above his head came down crashing towards Usmu. But Usmu stood still. I thought he was ready to take the burn when he suddenly vanished just like he did a while ago. The silver-eyed man was in a rush to suck the ball of seemingly inextinguishable flame back to the secret confines in her hand.

Everything was quiet for a moment until I heard Sir Neiro screaming a blood-curling, "No!" that I was sure could only come from a man getting slaughtered. I did not know if I saw it right but the silver-eyed man had the same face as my mentor before I averted my eyes away from him as I coughed up blood. They looked like they just witnessed murder and I knew why.

“Sir-” I tried to talk, already coming up with healing spells, but I started choking on my own blood in a second. I quickly tried to cover my mouth but the instant I moved, I just felt dizzy. It was the kind of dizziness that made one feel like they’re never waking up again.

The last thing I saw was the silver-eyed man hurriedly rushing to my side, an expression of all kinds of fear and anger splayed out on his face – or was it concern – before collapsing into the arms of a blood-soaked Sir Theon whose voice I thought I heard despite the hex of silence placed upon him.

I did not need to be conscious to look at the wound and know that it was a god by the name of Usmu, who almost cut me in half so I passed out, almost too sure I was never waking up again.