Mana Devourer/HHS - Book 2 Ch. 2

Negotiating with Randall was much less daunting than Markus would’ve anticipated. He really was willing to offer a ton, and for Markus, it was more the matter of trying to narrow Randall down to things Markus could specifically use than try to get him to increase his offer.

The first thing Markus and Randall settled on was a book of golden writs stamped with Randall’s seal. It was like a checkbook. Randall assured Markus that giving one of these sheets to pretty much any artisan or trader in the city would be sufficient to pay for almost anything he needed. 

Their value capped at five thousand gold each. Any number up to that could be written on one of these sheets and taken to a Benevolence church to be exchanged for coin. These specific writs were bound to Markus. If anyone were to try to use them besides him, the paper would crumble to dust.

These were usually reserved for Randall’s acolytes, and they were given three a week. Markus had a hundred. He was told to reach out if he needed more.

Speaking of reaching out, Randall had also given Markus a ring. The ring carried an enchantment that allowed Markus to cast a silence bubble around himself, one that would stop others from outside of his immediate area from being able to encroach upon his conversations.

But it was also a means to contact Randall. Apparently, Markus needed only say Randall’s name three times whilst wearing it, and the guy would appear like Bettlejuice, or at the very least, respond in a timely fashion. 

Which… yeah, sounded fucking creepy, and Markus was noticing the running theme in Randall’s ‘gifts’ that they all allowed him to keep better track of Markus… but Markus honestly didn’t think it made much of a difference.

They weren’t signing a contract. They’d agreed that. No souls, no bindings, no bullshit. This was a ‘gentleman’s agreement’, the agreement being that so long as Randall didn’t try to harm Markus or his friends from this point forwards, then Markus would make a good-faith effort to help Randall with the case of his missing humanity.

Besides, it didn’t seem like Randall struggled much to find Markus on any given day. He spent most of his time in one place, and even out here in the middle of the city, up on a random roof, he’d tracked him down within minutes.

The third part of their deal was ‘winding back the clock’, as Randall had put it, a rudimentary introduction to time magic and the spell Markus could use to return a few seconds into the past.

Markus had been preparing to think up an excuse to skip out on training when Randall had conveniently assured him that Markus wouldn’t even begin to be able to learn this spell without doing some required reading first, then dumped a huge book in his lap.

Alvos Flint’s Quintessential Guide to Chronomancy - 5th Edition, Abridged. 

Yeah… this thing was like twelve-hundred pages. Randall expected Markus to have read it by next week, and promised to teach him the spell then.

That interaction had led to the fourth part of their deal. More books.

Namely, Markus was granted access to Sun City’s Golden Library, a building Randall owned and had a hand in curating. Markus would have temporary access to the building via a two-way portal bracelet that would allow him to access the library for forty-five minutes, the limit of how long he could be gone before his contract began to physically compel him to return. Reactivating the bracelet would teleport him back to exactly where he was when he’d last used it.

As for the library itself, Randall assured Markus he’d have access to almost all of the written knowledge he had amassed in his centuries long life, but that he could only borrow three books at a time, as he didn’t want his personal library ransacked.

Finally, Randall had agreed to provide Markus with three B-Grade Essence Stones, two of them already filled with a variety of mana, as well as ten superior healing potions and another random elixir which he decided to ‘throw in for the fun of it’.

That elixir was a drought of stillness, apparently. A couple drops? A spicy addition to a meal. More than a few? Temporary paralysis. 

Somehow, Markus didn’t see himself seasoning his steaks with this.

By the time Randall left and the details were ironed out, it was time for Markus to return to the dungeon. Serena accompanied him, teleporting him back to his room and soothing him of the burn he felt from whatever mana he absorbed via the travel.

“How bad is this?” Markus asked her a few moments after they landed, once the dizziness had worn off. 

“The Randall thing?” Serena asked. She tilted her head. Stared down at the ring on Markus’ finger. 

“Pass that to me for a moment.”

Markus did as she asked and forked the ring over. Serena stared at it for a second. Her eyes glinted a faint silver.

“Hmm… nah. There’s no scrying spell on this. Kinda surprised, honestly. Would’ve taken that guy for the snooping type.”

Markus felt a small weight lift off his chest. “Seriously? I would’ve sworn that thing was bugged when he gave it to me. I can’t believe it isn’t.”

“You’re as surprised as I am,” Serena admitted. “Scrying spells on enchantments is like, shifty deals 101 as far as gods are concerned. Maybe he just knew I’d end up checking for it after.”

“Or maybe he doesn’t consider me a big enough threat to warrant keeping tabs on.” Markus shrugged.

“Well, he should.” Serena prodded his chest. “You’ll be the most powerful creature on this planet one day if we play our cards right. If he wants to survive that, he’d better not fuck you over.”

“You sound more angry about it than me,” Markus admitted. He scratched the back of his head. Sat down on his comfy ass double deluxe pharoah bed. He yawned.

“Well, you should be angry! I don’t like what he did to you! Where’s the usual Markus with the fucks and the shits and the anger and the defiance? The Markus who spat in that guy’s face?”

“Oh, he’s still in there, he’s just tired,” Markus said, reclining back until his head touched the mattress, letting out an even stronger yawn. “Way I see it, Randall’s gonna be a problem for the next while, and I don’t know what to do about that. I’m willing to hear suggestions, but getting angry with no plan isn’t gonna get me anywhere.”

“Again, spoken very much unlike Markus.”

“Maybe dying a thousand times changed my perspective on things a little.”

“What, you don’t get angry anymore?” Serena cocked her head.

“No, I do. I get really angry. Every time Randall spoke, I envisioned myself ripping his tongue out. Every time he passed me a new potion, I imagined smashing the glass and shoving it in his eyes.”

“Charming,” Serena laughed.

“I think I felt calm because that’s the exact opposite of what he expected of me,” Markus continued. “I think if I’d resisted, I’d just be giving him more of a hold over me than he already has.”

“He has a hold on you, then?”

“You’re sure that thing ain’t bugged?”

“I’m sure.”

Markus looked straight at her. There were tears in his eyes.

“I’m terrified of him, Serena. The only thing I feel more than hatred is fear. I wanted to curl into a ball and cry the moment I saw him.”

“You’re brave admitting that.”

“I don’t feel brave,” Markus argued. “I feel out of my depth. But somehow, I don’t even know how. Somehow… I was able to not shake, or shout, or cuss him out, or do any of the things I usually do when I’m that scared. I just… sat there, and listened, and talked, and didn’t break. I was calmer than he was. Stronger. It gave me an edge. And honestly? It felt good.”

“You’re one of the strongest mortals I’ve ever met,” Serena said. She conjured a chair and sat, crossing one leg over the other. “I’ve died before too, kinda comes with the territory believe it or not. But never as many times as you, all in a row like that. I can’t imagine what that might feel like.”

“I… can’t even describe it,” Markus said. His voice was hollow and dry; he could barely even register it. “Sometimes, I don’t even feel as if I’m here. Like I’m already dead, and none of this is even real.

“What if I’m still in that hallucination? What if that divine arm thing kept me in there and just let me think I’d escaped? What if any moment everything breaks and I wake up back in hell?”

Markus sighed. “Sorry. I know that’s probably not true. My mind just goes places.”

Serena didn’t say anything. She only looked at him for a long time. Her eyes were hard and contemplative. Markus eventually noticed and asked her what was the matter, but she didn’t say a word.

Right as Markus started waving a hand in front of her, she finally stopped maddogging him. She blinked, and her expression became far softer.

“Do you think you’ll be okay?” Serena finally asked.

“Eh… define ‘okay’.”

Serena smirked. “You know what I mean.”

“Well, what other choice do I have?” Markus snickered. “It’s ‘be okay’ or go completely fucking crazy. I wasn’t exactly well-adjusted to begin with. I’m gonna try not to go much crazier, I guess?”

“I hear you.” Serena fidgeted in her seat. “Erm… okay, screw it, I’ll just ask.”

“What?” 

“Can I wipe your memories of that day?”

Markus froze for a moment. Had she just said what he thought she had?

“Hold on. Can you do what?”

““It’s not something I’m offering lightly,” Serena continued. “Memory spells aren’t perfect. They suppress memories rather than completely erasing them. You’d likely still carry the burden of what you went through in other ways.”

She leaned forwards, stared into his eyes. “But it would be less than this. Less than this dread and confusion that you’re feeling. You wouldn’t have to face this too while you fought for your life in this place.”

Markus would like to say that he strongly considered Serena’s offer. That would’ve been the rational thing to do, surely. When someone had gone through something as traumatic as Markus had, and then the offer to take it all away suddenly ended up on the table, who wouldn’t jump at that? Even if it was a superficial release from his torment, it was a release. He’d be mad not to want it.

But… he didn’t want it. He didn’t want to forget that horror for all that he’d hated every living, dying moment of it. He didn’t want to lose the determination he’d forged from the dying embers of a thousand past selves. 

He didn’t want to forget the image of Randall’s smug face emblazoned upon his mind’s eye every time he dared to close his eyes. As much as he wished it gone, that same horror was a part of him now. It gave him purpose. It gave him desire above anything else.

“Well, I had to ask,” Serena said before Markus had spoken a word.

“You read minds now?” Markus asked.

“I thought about it,” Serena said. “It was a selfish offer.”

“How was it selfish?”

“I was thinking more of myself than you.” 

“You think I’d be more useful without the damage?” Markus laughed.

“Not that.” Serena shook her hair, silver locks bouncing. “Hell, I don’t even agree with that. You’re worth just as much with your memories intact. More, even.”

Markus almost felt flattered to hear that. He wasn’t sure if he should.

“No. What I was thinking was that I’d never want the same thing myself.” She twisted her lips. “Maybe it’d be easier on me if I couldn’t remember certain things about my own past. But I’d never want to forget. Who are we if not our experiences, good and bad?”

Markus didn’t say anything. Honestly, when she put it like that, he felt a little upset. He knew he needed this memory to do what he wanted—no—needed to do next. But he didn’t want this experience to be the sum total of him.

“I believe you can overcome this,” Serena said. She looked deadly serious, her eyebrows serving serious bad god energy. “I’d only be robbing you of that opportunity if I did anything to meddle with your mind.”

“You really think I can deal with this, then?”

“If there’s anyone who could, it’d be you.” Serena shrugged. “Plus, I’m not the world’s worst therapist.”

“Are you licensed?” Markus asked, peering at her.

“You think a therapist knows more about mental health than a god who’s seen every aspect of the human psyche and beyond?”

“...when you put it like that, it sounds silly to question you.”

“That’s because questioning me is silly,” Serena agreed. “Trust me, I can give you CBT better than any therapist out there.”

Markus blinked twice. “CBT… oh. Cognitive behavioural therapy. Okay. I was really worried for a sec.”

Serena gave him an odd look. “What did you think I meant?”

“...I’m not saying.”

“If you know another method that’s more effective—”

“Trust me, this isn’t that. Nor is it something I want.”

Serena peered at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. “No, Markus, I didn’t mean that. I think Sixent has a lot of the same idioms as your Earth. I’m sure I’ve heard this joke before.”

Markus’ face lit up. “Oh, you know about cock and ball torture?”

“What?!” Serena’s chair lurched back. She launched to her feet as if a snake had just lunged at her. “I thought you meant colonic blast treatment.”

Now it was Markus’ turn to bolt upright. “That sounds way worse!”

Serena continued to laugh. “I know. I made it up. It’s so easy to get a rise out of you.”

“Yeah,” Markus pouted, sitting back on the edge of his bed and crossing his arms. “Great therapy.”

“You’re laughing, aren’t you?” Serena asked, eyebrow arched.

“No,” Markus lied, unable to keep the smile on his face.

“Okay, seeing as I’ve woefully failed, which of those alternative treatments shall we try next?”

Serena and Markus bantered for a time. Honestly, it did make him feel a bit better. It was nice to just not really think about anything and make stupid jokes for a while.

He almost forgot his fatigue for a little while, too, but the moment he laid down in bed, it was like everything had been taken right out of him. There was a time where he’d hoped that Serena would stay up yapping with him about bullshit all night and that he wouldn’t even have to sleep, where he’d been dreading the prospect of being left alone with his own thoughts again, but now that she was gone… everything was quiet. He had blessed peace.

Even if it was transient, even if this mixture of exhaustion and calm was difficult to cultivate and nigh-impossible to maintain, Markus took hold of it. He didn’t count sheep, he didn’t make plans, and he definitely didn’t lament his situation.

For one blessed moment, Markus found peace, and was finally able to have a good night’s rest for the first time in what was almost definitely a very long time.

And then he was woken up in the middle of the night by the memories of his pain. 

Thunder coursed through him. Reality smashed against his senses with all the sublety of a soaring sledgehammer. It told him to get the fuck up and get to work.

Calm moment over. He’d spent a short time laughing and feeling joy—no longer.

Now it was time to work. First step beyond anything was finding a way to fix his Mana Toxicosis. 

He couldn’t tell the time down here, but he was sure he hadn’t had a full sleep. Cyrus was still sleeping in the cell opposite his. 

That meant it’d be at least a few hours until anyone bothered him. That gave him time to get a headstart on the world. A headstart he desperately needed.

In a situation where Markus constantly felt he was running against a clock, a few precious hours were everything. His bed was comfy, but he wasn’t gonna waste them.

Markus rose to his feet. He grabbed a wet rag from over by the corner. He pushed a tendril of frost mana to the tip of his fingers, intent on freezing it like he had when he’d first arrived.

He barely managed to make the thing colder before he collapsed in pain and hot sweats. His knees almost buckled as he rose to his feet. His hand shook as he grabbed the pathetic, ugly rag from the floor.

Markus tried to do it again. More screaming, more pain, more failure.

It was like there was an invisible barrier around his mana. Like something inside of him was clogged or sprained and he put incredible pressure upon it whenever he tried to pass his mana through there. Pushing with more force only exacerbated the issue. Repetition seemed to make the process slightly more tolerable, but he wasn’t sure if it was doing anything to counteract the symptoms besides making him ever-so-slightly adjust to it.

It was the only lead he had right now. That if he stubbornly repeated this process again and again, then maybe, just maybe, he’d find that it somehow became easier.

Or maybe he’d burst a blood vessel and die. Either or. 

Either way, he was finding his way past this block, no matter how many times he had to spectacularly fail in the process.

Too much rode on him succeeding for him to not give it everything. Too much—ow, fuck.

Markus kept at it. For all that this world was trying to keep him out of the game, he wanted back in, and he was determined to force himself back into contention down here in the dark pits of Firrelia, no matter how many times he had to crumble in the process.

He’d make this his arena. He’d decide his own destiny. He’d put an end to Elasar’s disgusting reign over this place, and once he was done with that bastard, he’d be gunning for Randall next.

But before any of that, he needed to make this damn rag freeze.