TBATE: Djinn's Theatre

Re-256: Resolve

The screen flickered and the words "Resolve" appeared on the screen. Arthur was seated on the floor with Regis hovering around him. The scene from the last episode continued.

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"Damaged? No, that's not..." My voice trailed off as I felt the internal condition of my body.

Regis was right. When I tried to spread mana throughout my body, an act as natural as breathing for a Lance, there was only a slight tingle.

Changing tactics, I tried to gather ambient mana. This time, I couldn't feel anything at all—no blanket of warmth like before, when mana once rushed inside me and coalesced in my core.

"No," I muttered, heaving my heavy body up onto my feet.

I threw a jab, attempting to channel mana from my core through the necessary parts of my body needed to carry out a punch. It felt painfully slow.

"Arthur..." Regis said, floating up in front of my face.

Ignoring him, I pivoted and kicked forward. I stumbled and fell, unable to even keep my balance.

Pushing myself up, I tried moving my body again. It reminded me of my time as a toddler in this world: my brain knew how to move, but my body just wouldn't listen.

I fell, and I fell again, each time more infuriating and embarrassing than the last.

After a particularly bad stumble when my face hit the smooth floor, my arms unable to even react in time to cushion my fall, I stayed on the ground.

"What the hell is wrong with me!" I howled in frustration, rubbing at my already bruising cheek.

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"All that power... just gone." Bairon stared at his hands. The rough hands were marred with calluses from all the training he had put his body through. "I can't even begin to imagine what it must have felt."

"Yet, he came back stronger than ever. I wonder... could we have done the same..." Mica asked, but she knew the answer well. They couldn't. She couldn't. Even now while they are more powerful than they had ever been, the crippling urge to run away somewhere far, to not have to do anything with this war remains strong. She would have given up if she were weak as Arthur on the screen.

The two Lances didn't reply. Their downcast gazes and self-deprecating expression said all that needed to be said.

"Just what had the boy gone through in Alacrya..." Virion massaged the bridge of his nose. His head ached when he tried to connect the image of Arthur on the screen and the image of Arthur who slew an Asura. He dreaded to see his questions answered.

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All of that hard work—years upon years of training and refining my core, learning to control all of the elements effectively—all gone.

I pounded my head on the ground, barely feeling anything more than a dull throb despite how hard the floor shook, and screamed in helpless frustration.

Whether I had calmed myself or had just run out of energy, I didn't know, but I found myself staring at Sylvie's stone. I imagined her curled up in her fox form inside the stone, warm and snug and sleeping, waiting for me to rescue her.

She had sacrificed her life for me and was reduced back to this state. She was the one that paid the price for all my stupid choices.

If I can't get things together for myself, I need to do it for her. At the very least, I owe her that.