Small crunching sounds ca from the body of the Archivist. His form began to collapse, each fracture spreading like a web of cracks across his limbs until pieces broke away and drifted into dust. He glanced at his failing body, then lifted his gaze back to Damon with a thin, cold smile.
"What great hubris you have. You see no guilt. Very well then, move on with your ambitions. I wonder if you will perish, or live."
Damon did not answer. He simply watched the Archivist crumble. As the last fragnts of the entity dissolved into dust, the air trembled. The world twisted and folded over itself, reality unspooling and reweaving until the false world vanished.
Damon felt a sharp pull. Then everything snapped back.
His burned flesh was restored. His broken bones nded. The library returned. He stood in the body of the mirror seraph once again, pristine and unmarred.
Well save for its original wounds.
There was no trace of the Archivist, no trace of the trials he had survived. Only the deep scars in his mind remained, throbbing like fresh wounds.
Before he could take a breath, Matia rushed to him. She seized his shoulders, her hands scanning across his chest and arms, searching for wounds with frantic precision. Her eyes were wide, glimring with a worry she tried to hide.
Damon smiled softly and shook his head.
"I’m fine. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before."
She stepped back only a little, her gaze cutting toward where the Archivist had stood. Her voice lost all warmth.
"Is he dead?"
Lazarak shrugged, his tiny shoulders rising and falling with a casual gesture that did not match the tension in his eyes. He tapped his small fingers against his knee as if testing reality itself.
"Who knows. That is hard to say. His power was interesting though. Why do you think his powers could wrap reality."
He looked at Damon this ti, waiting.
Damon held his gaze. His voice quieted to sothing thoughtful.
"Guilt wraps our perception of reality. We live in contexts shaped by our own sins. Prey to our own sha. I learned a lot from this trial."
He placed his hand on the glass chest of the mirror seraph form, feeling the subtle glow of his own soul moving inside it. It felt lighter, almost calm.
"I always felt like I should be punished. I was afraid and ashad. Now I feel liberated. I carried so much unnecessary guilt. Now I am free from its poison. This does not justify my actions, but it also does not excuse my suffering."
He glanced at Lazarak and smiled faintly.
"Just because I let survival turn into this does not an I cannot be happy. And it does not an I cannot create sothing beautiful."
Valarie’s last words brushed against his mory. She had told him not to live. She had told him to create sothing beautiful. Damon still did not know what that ant, but he felt closer to understanding it.
Lazarak closed his eyes before asking quietly,
"Then will you live now?"
Damon gazed at him with a tired softness.
"Nah, not a chance. Living is too much sweat. I will take the peaceful death."
Lazarak shook his head with a small, amused chuckle.
"You would probably fail. When the ti cos, you can only use Mutawa on one thing. To live or to die."
Damon frowned.
He raised his brows, confused.
Lazarak let out a breathy laugh and tapped his foot on the floor, lost in a thought Damon could not follow.
"What if you had to choose who could be killed by Mutuwa. You can either use it to kill yourself or save yourself."
Damon lowered himself slowly to the ground, exhaustion settling deep into his bones. He leaned back on his hands and stared up at the ceiling.
"Well that is a no brainer. Did you forget I am suicidal. Ending my life is kind of my short term goal."
Lazarak sat down beside him, his infant form shifting as he got comfortable.
"Then what about your long term goal. It is unusual for soone who is suicidal to have a long term goal."
Damon lay flat on his back and rested his head on his arms.
"Well that is nothing new. n die with wishes and ambitions. Even I have things I want to do."
Lazarak watched him quietly, his expression softening.
"Like what. I am slightly curious to know."
Damon let out a long breath. His eyelids were heavy, and the trial had drained him. A few days of rest sounded rciful, especially with the endless shelves of the library around them. Maybe he could even read for a while.
He glanced at Lazarak.
"Things I want to do. I am afraid I will disappoint you."
Lazarak gently relaxed onto his back, his small form looking strangely lively beside Damon.
"Surprise ."
Damon snorted and closed one eye.
"Well, you asked for it. Let us see. Where to start."
He placed his hand under his chin, rubbing lightly as if searching through shelves of forgotten desires.
"I want to be rich. And I do not an rich rich. I want to be rich rich rich. Old money rich. High nobility, long family lineage, rich."
Lazarak raised both brows.
"Is that not a bit frivolous?"
Damon sat up slightly and covered his mouth in mock offense.
"Shut up. I am not done. If I was rich you would not be interrupting. Ahem."
He cleared his throat dramatically.
"Where was I."
Matia, who had been silent, answered without looking at him.
"Long family lineage rich."
"Yes yes, thank you. I am going to let the money change . Let my entire personality do a full one eighty. I want to be spoiled. And when soone touches I will call soone powerful to back up."
He spoke faster, almost tripping over his own words.
Lazarak winced.
"Ahh is that all."
"Goodness no, I am just getting started. I am going to eat like a king. The fat kind. And when the people are starving because they have no bread, I will tell them to eat cake."
He nodded proudly.
"I will make sure water is no longer a human right. People will have to pay for it."
He lifted a finger as if lecturing.
"I have not even co to won. I will definitely have a scandalous affair with the princess while being engaged to so other noblewoman. Knowing full well I could trigger a political fallout that could cause the death of millions."
He continued his list with growing enthusiasm.
"I am going to shake down the rich and shake down the poor. I will hoard wealth and surround myself with the top one percent. I will work with religious organizations as a devotee of the goddess, while in the shadows I sponsor and endorse terrorist activities."
He finally stopped and turned to Lazarak.
"Still think it is a good idea for to live."
Lazarak pressed his lips together.
"I think you should kill yourself now."
"But I’m not even done yet."
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