Mage Dissolution

by Christopher George

  The new doctor was an older gentleman though he still had the look of a soldier. All the men here did. That at least went some way towards validating Levenson’s earlier statement about being on an army base. The doctor hesitated when he saw the ruins of the machine, then pulled the blanket from over one of my toes. I couldn’t quite see properly as the brace didn’t let me see that far down.

  “Wiggle your toes,” he ordered. The others behind him leaned forward to view my feet. It was a little off-putting. I could tell from their reactions that there wasn’t good news to be had.

  “Well, the good news is that there is some movement,” the doctor said gruffly, “full mobility may return in time.”

  “May return?” I prompted.

  He made several scratches on the chart. “There are no guarantees.”

  “You’re saying I won’t be able to walk?”

  “Walk? You’re lucky to be alive in the condition you were brought in.”

  I didn’t want to hear it. I slumped back into the bed. I’d think I would have preferred it if Victor had killed me.

  “Get out,” I whispered.

  “I have tests to run.”

  “Those can be done later,” Levenson said smoothly as he gently but firmly guided the doctor from the room.

  I nodded briefly to Levenson as he followed the doctor out. I contemplated tearing the braces from my body. What good had they done me? What good were they going to do? I was never going to walk again. What was the point though? Would it make me feel better? Possibly. Would it help me? No.

  I’d never in the million years have thought that this would be my fate. I suppose I’d always just thought of myself as invulnerable. It wasn’t that I thought that I couldn’t be defeated, and it wasn’t that I couldn’t be hurt. I’d been horribly hurt before, but I’d always somehow come through it. I was young and I was invincible. Others had paid such a price; it was only my youthful arrogance to assume myself exempt.

  What was the point of going on like this? I’d hardly be able to affect any kind of vengeance on Victor like this.

  It took me sometime before I was able to get any sleep. In the end sleep found me, not as a gentle slumber, not as an exhausted collapse, because I could no longer bare to be alone with my thoughts any longer. A troubled mind can be a torturous place.

  * * * * * *

  I began a routine of physical therapy and exercise in an attempt to recover what I had lost. The sessions were long and they were painful. My legs were still pitifully weak and sensations came and went. Sometimes I felt pain, sometimes I felt nothing. What I felt most of all was simple exhaustion.

  This place didn’t seem to have any windows. My only measure of time was dinner, which seemed to arrive and pass with infrequent regularity. It was almost as if it was scheduled for different times in the day. But that doesn’t make any sense. I could of course have teleported from the centre at any point, or used Scry to send my vision out into the world, but I had little interest in doing so as I had fear for what I would find.

  I had little interest even looking in the mirror. The person that looked back was unfamiliar. There were several large scars across my face and upper torso. Although my shoulder had healed to allow free movement there were surgery scars clearly visible down my back.

  I now moved about the complex via a wheelchair. I had at first rejected the idea, but the reality of the situation quickly became apparent. If I didn’t want to be locked to my bed, I would need a chair to navigate around. Not that there was much to see. The complex consisted of a long corridor, with a series of offices and meeting rooms and a hall at one end that had been converted into a physical therapy room. I don’t believe this building had originally been designed as a hospital.

  Levenson visited infrequently and when he did I could sense that he was worried about something. This wasn’t surprising. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what the fallout from our battle over Melbourne had been. Marcus had claimed that his death would lead to a war. Was that the truth? I didn’t know and I didn’t care to find out.

  I could tell that Levenson was disappointed with my improvement, although my doctors said my progress was nothing short of miraculous.

  Miraculous indeed. I could stand for no more than a few seconds before my legs would fail and I would fall. The muscles were just too weak. The prospect of being able to walk again was quickly becoming more and more of a pipedream.

  Eventually I came to terms with this, but with mixed emotions. You quickly learn to accommodate and the wheelchair wasn’t so bad. But then again, I never had to travel very far. What I feared was that once it had become obvious that there was no more that could be done for me that I would be sent out into the world. I didn’t want that. I wasn’t ready. In fact the world could go to spit for all I cared. I was done. I was out. So I did my exercises and kept myself active. I did what the doctors asked of me. I did anything that would mean that I would be kept here.

  I was careful to use Mana every day, the last thing I wanted was to go through a withdrawal whilst in this state. I used it for simple things, no more than parlour tricks, but it was enough.

  I had no idea if the doctors and staff here knew who I was or what I was capable of and I didn’t think it wise to reveal my powers to them. For all I knew they simply thought I was like everyone else.

  My meetings with Levenson were a little tense. It was becoming more obvious with each visit that he was hoping to hear some good news about my recovery. No, that wasn’t right. He was more than hopeful; he was desperate to hear some good news. Things must be going pretty badly out there. Sometimes after our meetings curiosity would get the better of me and I would wonder what was happening out there, but then I realised that I was no longer part of that world. I wanted nothing from it. It had nothing that appealed to me any longer. I wasn’t happy here, but I was one hell of lot happier here than I had been out there. No, it was best to remain here.

  Unfortunately after what must have been at least six months, that was no longer an option. I knew immediately upon entering the room that I was about to attend my last meeting with Levenson in this facility. Normally our meetings took place alone, this time there were doctors present.

  “They tell me that you’re not making much more progress,” Levenson said.

  I sat back in my wheelchair uncomfortably, “That’s what they tell me.”

  “This isn’t going to work. I need you mobile, I need you back to your full strength.”

  “Are you going to tell me why?”

  Levenson twisted his lips together. “I’m sure you’re aware of what’s been going on outside these walls.”

  “No, actually I’m not.”

  Levenson looked surprised. He must have assumed that I was at least keeping myself current.

  “There’s nothing for me out there.” I said sourly.

  “No?” Tell me then, what do you know about this man?”

  He passed a folio over to me. I flipped it open, it looked like a police dossier of a man named Killian Voll. That didn’t mean anything to me.

  I pushed the papers away, “Never heard of him. I’m assuming he’s a Mage or you wouldn’t be showing me this.”

  “He’s creating quite a problem.”

  “And what do you want me to do? Roll over his foot?” I wiggled the chair a little in emphasis.

  Levenson scowled, “If you’re through being smart, I’ve prepared a short presentation for you.”

  “Oh?”

  “This is a video of news clippings from the last few months.” Levenson flicked on his laptop, which was connected to a screen on the wall. The TV flicked to the scenes of a firefight between armed soldiers and what I could only assume to have been a Mage. A crisp female voice over peppered the footage with comments about a catastrophic death toll and informed me that the film was taken in Paris. The shooting escalated to a maximum before the image of a small truck being thrown at the camera ended the transmission.

  The next clip
appeared to be of a press conference. The man I recognised as Killian from the folio I saw earlier was standing at the podium addressing a crowd of reporters. Standing behind him was a very nervous looking Levenson. He didn’t look to be too thrilled to be there.

  “We only want peace. We’ve lived amongst you all our lives. We don’t want this. We never wanted this.”

  “What about the deaths?” one of the reporters interjected angrily.

  “This is simply a result of a power struggle within our order,” Killian responded.

  “Singapore, Melbourne and Paris are in ruins. This is merely the result of a power struggle?” the reporter queried in disbelief.

  “We as an organisation deeply regret the loss of life and damage caused by our internal struggle––” Killian was cut off by a barrage of shouted questions from the reporters. It was obvious that this had been rehearsed line and it wasn’t delivered that well. Killian obviously wasn’t the statesman that he thought he was. His reply sent shockwaves through the crowd with reporters shouting at him. Killian raised his hands to attempt to restore order, but was unable to do so.

  Fortunately for Killian, and unfortunately for everyone else, Killian was cut off by a loud explosion of sound. I knew that sound. It was the sound of someone teleporting in. Cameras frantically swung around to catch the action. Three figures teleported into the back the hall.

  “You don’t speak for us!” a loud voice boomed across the chamber. People started screaming as the newcomers launched an attack at Killian. Chairs, tables and people were ground up as Killian was forced to defend himself. I couldn’t see the Mana in the video footage but it wasn’t difficult to imagine what was going on. It would have been carnage. There would have been nowhere for people to go and the Mages themselves didn’t look like they even cared who got in their way.

  Levenson paused the video at this point.

  “Forty-three people were killed in that press conference. Voll survived and has been a thorn in our side ever since.”

  “Melbourne is in ruins?” I queried, “I didn’t think we did that much damage.”

  “You did enough, but there have been three more battles there since. Let alone the damage caused by rioting and looting.” Levenson said dryly as he hit play on the video again.

  “Who was this compiled for?” I asked. He obviously hadn’t gone to this effort for me.

  “Some US General. He thought he could sort the situation out. He didn’t.”

  I wasn’t surprised.

  “He took Los Angeles and Chicago down with him in an attempt to kill Voll.” Levenson said grimly. “We are just ill equipped to deal with your kind.”

  I hadn’t expected that, though I suppose I should have. Without the Primea to force order there would be nothing stopping us from turning on each other. It was inevitable that the rest of the world would be dragged into it.

  “We currently have four small wars tearing across Europe with Mages being involved in all cases.“

  “Where is Victor in all this?” Even saying his name sent shivers of rage down my spine, “Surely that’s his problem.”

  “We don’t know. No one has seen him since Melbourne. The only spokesperson we have for the Mage community is Voll and you can see how well he’s doing.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “In your current condition, nothing.”

  “Good.”

  “However there have been some doubts, that you’re telling the truth as to the extent of your injuries.” Levenson began.

  “That would be a question for my doctors.” .

  The doctors looked uncomfortable. One of them eventually said, “Your leg muscles would have atrophied by now at your current level of injury.”

  “I’m not lying.”

  I didn’t need this.

  “Devon, we need help.” Levenson pleaded. “This needs to end before it leads into another world war. That’s the way it’s heading.”

  I didn’t reply.

  “Devon… people are dying.”

  “I don’t see what I can do.”

  “There are some options, machine supports, callipers. That could restore your mobility,” Levenson said, “at least to a degree.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then you work with us to restore order.”

  I scoffed.

  “I’m not going to be a hired thug for you.” I said darkly.

  “Then there is very little left that we can do for you. Medically speaking.” Levenson replied softly.

  “I understand.”

  Levenson had diplomatically left the threat unsaid, but it was obvious what he meant. They would turn me out.

  His arguments hadn’t exactly fallen on deaf ears. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about what was going on outside these walls. It was that I didn’t think that I could do anything about it. Arguments raged backwards and forwards through my mind as I pondered what to do.

  If only I had listened to Renee. She had warned me that the path I had followed would lead to ruin. I was glad that she hadn’t been around to see me like this. It was better that she never find out. No, I couldn’t go back. Never go back. I’d have to find some other hole to crawl into.

  * * * * * *

  That night I ate a cold dinner in my room. I’d be leaving this complex within the week. I rolled from my room to the exercise chamber as I did after my meal every night. It was the closest thing I had to an afternoon walk. The scenery wasn’t that exciting as I passed by meeting rooms and offices, but it was the best I could do at the moment.

  I passed the open door of the meeting room that we’d occupied this afternoon and found to my surprise that Levenson’s laptop was still hooked up to the television. In spite of myself I rolled into the room. The laptop was in power down mode, but didn’t need a password to bring up the desktop. This was hardly secure. I was surprised.

  The video was still loaded into the media player. With trembling hands I moved the touchpad and clicked play. The video started up again. I watched as a parade of news reports, surveillance camera and security footage detailed the rise of my kind into the ‘real’ world. It was sickening. We had turned on ourselves like animals.

  I had done this. No, that’s not right – Marcus had done this. He was the one that had started all this, but I had helped. Names and dates flashed up on the screen as more information became available. There was footage taken by surveillance drones of soldiers fighting side by side against Mages in war zones that used to be cities.

  I was responsible for this. This wasn’t the legacy that I had sought. All I had wanted to do was to save my sister. This was the stuff of nightmares. My lips tightened as I forced myself to watch the footage. My hands kept creeping towards the stop button, but I refused to actually click it. The footage went for an hour and I hated every minute of it. The video ended long before I turned away from the screen.

  Each image on the screen haunted me. The news feeds in particular drew attention to the suffering of the innocents. A child’s stuffed toy trampled in the dirt as booted heels trod over it, homes torn apart and families torn asunder.

  I had to do something. But I seriously doubted that there was anything I could do in this condition. As soon as the thought entered my mind it was immediately assaulted.

  What the hell was I thinking? I’m not a grunt soldier, I’m not an athlete whose entire world depends on their physical condition. I’m a Mage. My body matters not. I’d been thinking like some spoilt little child for too long.

  If I was to go into battle, I’d go as a Mage, not as a soldier. My Mana was still strong – that was all that ever really mattered. I spun my chair around and headed to the physical therapy room. If this was going to work I would need space.

  I grunted as I pulled myself from the chair, supporting myself between two bars. My usual therapy involved attempting to move my feet into hesitant steps, supporting myself for seconds and only using the bars to prevent a fall. It was painful and it was tedious. The
smallest of steps led to exhaustion and the only reward was more pain as the next step was required.

  What if I didn’t have to go down that path? What if I didn’t need my muscles at all? What if I could control my own body with the one power I still had. The Mana.

  It would take some doing, but it could be done. I focused and breathed out as the power flew into me. I formed a field around me and felt it clamp me into place. It was like a shield, except that it was keeping me upright.

  I let go of the beams and stood there. This would normally result in screams of protest from my lower back and legs. Nothing. I was being supported by my magic. The concentration required was enormous, but I knew that with practice it would become second nature to me. This could be done.

  A coughing sound caused me to spin about. Levenson was standing at the door watching me.

  “I had wondered how long it would take.” He commented.

  “You left the laptop out for me to find?”

  “Of course. I knew that you wouldn’t be able to help yourself. I wondered how long it would take before you would think of using Mana.”

  “How did you know that I wasn’t lying about my injuries.”

  “You think I don’t know when someone is using Mana? Now of all times?”

  “Fair point.”

  I took a few haltering steps through sheer force of will. I must have looked like an automaton as my footwork was clunky and robotic. It was difficult without any kind of response back from my legs, but I knew that I could learn to do this. Every day I would improve until I regained my mobility.

  “So what happens now?” I grunted.

  “Now?” Levenson smiled, “We get to work. I’ve taken the liberty of placing your friends and family in a safe location. You will be comforted to know that they at least are safe from all this. They think you’re dead, but I can arrange for you to see them.”