I don't know who I am anymore. All I know is that I am in hell. My Master has abandoned me. My Empress does not know my name anymore. I fought my entire life for a lie—for a waning loyalty. These are the only thoughts that cross my mind as my body melts away in the fire. I smell my namesake in the air. I feel it in my eyes. I am enveloped and destroyed. But I can't.
"You can't? Who are you to ask that?"
Only an eye still existed on the surface of the fiery pool. Everything stopped, but the pain remained. With the little I could see, I saw a man. He walked on the fire. Even though I saw him, I could not tell you what he looked like—or even what the sound of his voice was. All I could tell you was that it was kind.
"The only way you can get out is to let go. There is no 'can't.'"
He brought down a hand. What did he mean? The lava still burned. I tried and struggled. I wanted to reach out. I needed to. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. The only thing I could do was think and panic.
"Hmm. You'll get there. Don't worry, I'll be here when you get up."
I couldn't scream. I wanted to scream. I don't know how long I was there. I'm not even sure who I was before I entered. Eventually, I was able to rise. I did it when I no longer cared—about anything. When I rose, he was there, just like he said he would be.
"Now that you're here, tell me what you want to do."
"Rest."
"Mmm. Then there's something you must do first."
He took me by the hand, and in a flash of light, I was taken. We were flying. When I looked down, I saw the sand of my homeland. Soon, we arrived at a village.
"You grew up in a village like this, didn't you, Sulfur?"
T-That was my name. I do remember.
"Yes, I did."
Only then, as we walked through the market, did I see that thing—a skinny, weak creature. She was bald. She was useful, but those black eyes stung in the sunlight. She never complained, though. She was pitiful. This small child was me. This was that day. I saw him—Thonk—pick me up. I saw myself scream and gnash my teeth like some animal. Then I saw that stone—just where my Master had placed it—right into my hand. My small hand swung impossibly fast. A jet of blood shot high into the sky. He was dead. This child is a monster. I needed to destroy her. But as soon as I moved to kill her, the man grabbed me. I turned to face him, but he was gone. In that moment, he took me to my parents' barn. My Master and my parents. It had been so long since I had seen their faces. They wanted me to do my best? That was it? Hahahahahaha! THAT'S what got me here. I used it—a parental justification—to burn it all down. To ignore evil. To support it. I couldn't face my parents anymore. I turned to see myself sleeping on a bed of hay. Standing by her side was that strange man.
"Who are you?"
"Call me whatever you want. Come over here."
I got closer.
"Garbo, why have you brought me here?"
He smirked a little.
"Look at her. Tell me what you see."
"A monster who will destroy everything in front of her. A follower of evildoers, leading men to their deaths. She's my bane—and everyone else's."
"Hmm. If you could, would you tell her that?"
"Yes. Of course."
Only then did I notice how large this man's hands were. He grabbed me by the head and slammed me into that child. At first, all I could do was scream. But eventually, I saw her. That thing. And in this place, I let it all out. I killed her—but that was not the end. Garbo pulled me out after that. We became partners in this journey, watching the pain of my life. Every once in a while, he would let me into her dreams, trying to piece together enough of my mind to tell her what she needed. But here's the problem: we didn't follow her in order. Every time I was pulled out of her mind, we came to a different time. I could barely take it—seeing it all again, but different. Changed by us, by what we told her. It was hard to say if this was better, but it was different. That was how things went until I had seen everything. This new Sulfur had managed to change. To become better than me, I think. I had done my work, but Garbo said I had one last message to give. I saw, for the first time in a while, my child self. She seemed scared. But I didn't care. I still had so much to tell her. To show her. I wanted her to know what would come—but that she would change it.
"The one who is burdened by a great and grand purpose fights for a throne you don't understand. She who rules is ruled. He who stands lives too long. A child who follows will damn us all. My bane. I love you and I hate you, just as you do me. Now see. See."
I showed her as much as my broken mind could. But when it was done, all we could do was look at each other. I felt something change. I was slipping away. I moved to say one last thing—but she beat me to it.
"My bane and my spirit, I forgive you."
Everything then began to slip away.
"Thank you."
It was all falling away now; I could feel it.
"Thank you for giving me the gift of an end. And thank you for changing fate."
The sun set in this place, and as one set of eyes closed for the last time, another opened—forever changed.
"Hmm. Wasn't that nice?" said Garbo. "What do you guys think, knowing that old Sulfur's story had a bright ending despite the suffering? That's what I wanted—it was just too sad before. I just hope our Sulfur will learn enough from her dreams to fix what's to come."
I bring myself to the end of the line. Orbiting around this world. I see it explode, its dust spreading across the vast cosmos. I hope she can stop this. She must find him.
I open my eyes to the vast morning. Today is the first day of the rest of my life. I couldn't avoid what was to come. I wished the dream wasn't true—that I could find comfort in my own strength, find comfort in my Master. But I couldn't. I still didn't have the whole picture yet. I need to review what I do know. If I don't change, I will become a general and a strong warrior, but it will cost me my sanity, my health, and my life. I still don't understand how I ended up in the volcano in the end, though. I didn't see that. The last thing I know is that more dreams are coming. More for me to learn. I just need to wait—gather information. I need to meet the right people.
As the thought stabbed across my mind, I ran off to seek my Master. He was just walking down the main staircase. His wrinkled face stretched out in surprise.
"You are up very early this morning, my apprentice."
"Yes, I am, my Master. I have something to ask of you."
The Master of History seemed weary. "And that is?"
"I want to go to school."
Yet again, he gave that flash of shock. "What for? I can teach you almost everything—and if I can't, I will get someone who can."
It was clear lying wouldn't work here, but a half-truth might. "I want to meet children of military status. I must lead them, so I might as well get used to being around them."
"Hmm. Not the worst of ideas. The ability for social mobility will be important… the new term starts in a month. We will prepare you not to embarrass yourself."
I let the mask slip for a second. He saw my rage run across my face, but it seemed he just decided to move on to preparations. I couldn't do that. I needed to keep moving forward. So, for that month, I was given an overview of the academy and its social hierarchy. Any person of any age could devote themselves to serving this country. It's dominated by the lower class, though, as it is the best way for them to gain status. But in my age group, there are some names of note entering the academy this year. The twin sons of the great General Soomar. Soomar is one of the four great generals who work directly under the Empress. So meeting them will be of utmost importance.
The last test my Master had for me was to spar—to know if I could stand, and no matter what, not fall to common blades. That is why I would not use my stone in this battle.
My Master took me to a private octagon. The rules were clear: we would use wooden blades and fight until one of us gave up or could not continue. However, there was a special rule: if one of us could force the other out of the octagon, the fight would end in a draw. Even without my stone, I hoped to use some magic in this fight. Otherwise, it was unlikely to go well for me.
My Master stood five feet away. His cloak was replaced with a sleeveless tunic and comfortable pants. He did this all to give himself the best mobility. He even braided his long beard to keep it out of the way.
The air wasn't just thick—it felt like moving through slime. Each movement was slow. Neither of us could let the other land a free blow. Strategy went out the window as soon as he made his move. He got low to swing for the legs. My guard was too high, and he was too fast. I sent as much mana as I could to my leg. The pain pulsed through my entire lower half. It was only because of my magic that my leg didn't break.
The only thing I could do was take advantage of his leaned-over stance. My strike was true—but not fast enough. As my Master blocked it, his stance couldn't recover. He fell, still blocking my blow. I aimed to push him out of the octagon, but I failed. In this struggle, his guard never wavered. While I began to tire, I was forced to take a few steps back, letting him stand—but buying myself time to recover.
I only had enough magic and stamina for one last gamble. I raised my guard high. I used what was left of my magic to dash as fast as I could to slash at his legs. He expected my fast movements—but not my slow ones. As he jumped to dodge my blade in my left hand, my right hand pushed him hard enough to land right on his butt outside the octagon.
After this, my Master wore a soft expression, like the effort was worth it. He couldn't get his hopes up, though, as the battle ended and the pain hit me, forcing me to my knees. For that moment, I couldn't think of anything but the pain. But then I felt a warmth that overtook all of it. I opened my tear-stained eyes to see my Master using his magic to heal me.
I saw a kind man in that moment. The tears flowed harder as I hugged my Master. My only wish is that this moment could last just a little longer.