REQUIEM - [h.p]

III; from the depths

| YEAR 3; CHAPTER EIGHT |
FROM THE DEPTHS

     UNCERTAINTY BURROWED WITHIN HIM. It fell into the hungry maw of anxiety which only worsened the situation at hand. You would think that an abandoned classroom would provide more security for what he was about to do, but with each pair of footsteps passing the entrance to the room, the more his heartbeat thrummed harder in his chest. He let out a shaky breath, taking a glance at the small rat that was clawing at the sides of the box.

He could do this, he told himself, there was no one here to stop him. With the self-encouragement ringing in his mind, Edwyn opened his worn notebook, flipping through the pages until he found what he was looking for. He'd been looking everything over for about a month now, and with everything beginning to slow down as the year drew to a close, it was the most opportune time he'd get to start his project. Still, hesitation rang clear as day in the back of his mind, and no matter how hard he tried to push it away, the insistent feeling refused to withdraw from his conscience.

As he continued to stare down at the scampering creature beneath him, the realization came to him. He was stalling. Merlin be damned-why was this so bloody hard? This would further medical research, and here he was worried about a stupid rat.

He hardened his resolve and moved forward with far more confidence than he felt on the inside. With a quick swipe of his hand, he felt the cool wood of his wand beneath his fingers as he grabbed it from the table. He stared at it blankly, studying the small grooves and almost indiscernible scratches that showed themselves with the light. When he looked back at the small rodent, his insides felt stiff and heavy, as if they were suddenly stuffed with iron. Its black, bead-like eyes showed no understanding as to what he was planning to do. He pitied it. But he also envied that ignorance. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to quiet the racing thoughts storming away in his head. When he finally opened them again, he raised his wand toward the creature and began pulling out the memories of the wand-work and incantations he had spent countless nights and days endlessly working and practicing. All for this moment. He could do this. 

It was hard not to let his voice waver as he went through the incantation. The wand movement, while tricky to pull off, wasn't as hard as he expected it to be. It seemed his practice hadn't been for nought. When the bright, colourless light of the spell escaped from the tip of his wand, he could feel the magic coursing through him, and in turn, through his conduit. It was a rush of power, but he could feel how much the spell had drained him. He felt exhausted. Once the spell hit the rat, it let out a shrill shriek that Edwyn never thought could come from such a small animal. It writhed around in the container, and he struggled to keep his Will on the spell. He tried his best to transform it, mould it into another vessel. Suddenly, he felt the spell cut off and he looked down to see that the small animal was dead. He killed it—

He forced himself to remain calm, drowning out the sudden panic blaring within his head. Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck. He killed it. It was in pain, he knew it was in pain, but he didn't stop. Why didn't he stop? He let out a weary sigh. Right now, he just needed to focus on moving the thing's corpse somewhere outside of the castle. Then, he could figure out how he managed to kill it. He rubbed a hand over his eyes.