Rune Mage [Fantasy/Adventure | Book 1 +2 | Complete]

Chapter 38: The Worst Punishment

Seiren's breath hitched. The king's mages were involved?

Mother knew about this?

"They declared me guilty within minutes and stripped me of my mageship."

"Stripped... how?" Bile turned sour at the back of her throat. He turned just enough to see his narrowed, pained eyes.

"They purged me of magic, severed my links, and banished me from Benover." His words had bitter, ragged edges that kept Seiren far away. She felt sick at the very thought. Purged of magic? How was that possible? How inhumane must the king's mages be to sentence a desperate man this severely? And what devilish, unnatural magic must it be to sever his magical bonds? Seiren swallowed a wave of nausea. It then dawned on her.

"Kori doesn't know."

Fernard sighed. "No, he doesn't."

"He loves magic... you always did magic for him. You wanted to hold up that façade. You didn't want him to know you'd lost your magic."

He snorted.

"You didn't want to disappoint him."

"The boy has already lost too much. His mother I couldn't bring back. His father was a disgrace and a pathetic excuse of a human being, but he still revered him so. It would kill him to know his father had fallen from grace and couldn't do magic any more." He gave a mirthless laugh. "What matters now? I have already killed him. I killed my wife. I killed my son."

"Kori's health isn't your fault," Seiren said. He was so buried in his guilt he couldn't even see Kori's poor health from birth was just down to bad luck. He blamed himself so entirely. "There's nothing to make up to or punish. He's just... unlucky."

"Unlucky to have this wretched soul for a father. I deserve all this torment, but not him. Never him." Fernard stepped away from her, his shoulders hunched.

"Kori never blamed you."

Fernard stopped.

"He revered you. He loved you for taking the time to do magic for him. He never hated you for his mother dying. He told me." Seiren's throat closed up even without a hand clutching her neck. "He's dying, Professor. He needs his papa. Be there for him."

He turned to her. For a brief moment, there was light on that prematurely-ageing, haunted face.

"Professor."

Myrtin stood at the door, his hands clasped in front of him. Without another look at Seiren, Ebanon Fernard strode back to Kori's room, leaving Seiren in the semi-darkness.

Seiren wasn't sure if it was a blessing or a curse, but she lay in bed wide awake for the entire rest of that evening, staring up at the shadows the branches cast on the ceiling when the moonlight shone on them. They looked almost like stick figures were trying to signal to her, mesmerising in their gentle sways and little dances.

Loren's chaos magic didn't work. Seiren wasn't surprised. Untested magic in the hands of an inexperienced mage who had only ever practised on an anaesthetised fat cat was hardly promising. It didn't stop the heavy sag of disappointment deep in her chest. Perhaps she could have alleviated Kori's breathing to make his passing less scary for him. She remembered when the light faded from Madeleine's eyes that night, the deep gash across her chest and throat. How terrified she must have been.

It wasn't that bad, actually, piped up Madeleine. I don't remember much of it. Maybe it was the shock, but I was too cold to feel anything.

Thanks for the reassurance, Seiren thought with a sigh. She stretched and curled her toes beneath the covers again, shivering when a draught crept through the floorboards and patrolled her bedroom. Guess that means I'm definitely fired now, huh?