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Khor awoke and sat up. He looked around and sighed. He wrenched the covers off himself and slouched over to the dresser. Eyes half-closed, he grouped around the drawer and retrieved a pair of his usual clothes. When he slipped them on he looked into the mirror.
Staring back at him was a tall boy, with long, black, hair which was very messy. He looked deeper and saw his blue-green eyes and his straight teeth. He ruffled his hair and looked lazily into the mirror. Deep, almost blue, bags were under his eyes from being tired so very often. He also noticed the spirit world seemed to be making him paler. His white skin shone and he ruffled his hair once again.
He stepped back and looked around the room. Khor cocked his head from side to side as he heard it crackle with delight. As he approached the door he stretched out his hand and felt a vibration. It wasn’t cold, of chill, it felt as if the world shook and shivered. His head shook and his mind felt strange for a moment.
Khor reached up and lightly rubbed his head. What’s going on? Passing it off as some phenomenon that is customary of getting up earlier than usual, he entered the hallway. Past the door was the same, dusty, grey-looking hallway he had seen for the last day. But, somehow, it seemed new. Unfamiliar. As if being seen through someone else’s eyes. What is going on? Khor suddenly realized it must be some kind of headache from yesterdays fight with the deceased duelist master. He clenched his head and stumbled on down the empty hall.
When Khor reached the bottom floor a long table was set out in the middle of the matted room. Spirits were centered around it, eating swirling pieces of bacon and pancakes. As Khor neared the laughter grew and the conversations went on as if he wasn’t there.
Vathen pushed through a group of spirits and walked over to Khor. “Had breakfast?” He asked simply. Khor shook his had and a spirit drifted up immediately with a platter of three pieces of pancakes and two pieces of bacon. Khor took them and said “Thank you.” The spirit nodded and drifted away.
“Let’s find a place to sit.” Vathen led Khor to a set of seats out looking the white swirling landscape. They sat and Khor set the platter on a nearby lamp stand. He ignores the food and cradled his head in his hands.
“Khor.” Vathen said, firmly.
“Just a morning headache.” He replied, continuing to cradle his head. Khor looked up and smiled to try to interject a sense of confidence. He reached out for the platter and the world vibrated again. Khor shook but tried to ignore it. Vathen looked at him, suspiciously.
The rest of the afternoon Khor had no recurrences with the strange head ache. He went on through out his day, discussing the finer details of battle with a combat expert, and of specific ways to cast spells with and 700 year old mage. When Khor retired for bed he crawled in without resistance.
In the morning Khor awoke with a searing pain in his head. He clenched his head and sat up. He pulled back the covers and stumbled over to the mirror on the dresser. He gazed into it and muttered “.” The pain lessened but did not disappear completely. It felt like a dull ache in his head and his mind kept on spinning. What’s with this thing? It won’t go away. Maybe I should… I should… tell some… someone.
Khor felt another set of thoughts pushing in on his mind. It gave another opinion. What’s the big deal? It’s just a little pain. Or are you a weakling and can’t take a little pain? “I’m not weak!!!” Shouted Khor. He slammed his hand on the dresser and clenched his fists. He looked, enraged into the mirror and shook, his muscles tensing.
Come on. Who you gonna tell? Who’s gonna believe you? Just a little pain. What’s the matter? Can’t handle me? Then I picked right. “Get out of here!!!” Khor slammed the dresser again and tensed his muscles again. “I don’t know who you are but I’m not gonna give up this easily!” Yes you are! You left Jhere, the school, you let the Shade live when you could have killed it easily. You’re weak. And you’re going to give in. If not now then latter. “Get out!!!”
Khor felt something leave him. Like a weight had been lifted off his chest. He looked around the room. He was breathing harshly and rubbed his head. He gazed back into the mirror and said “Who are you?!” Khor thought he saw a shadow flicker in the reflection but when he whipped around he only saw an empty room.
Khor burst through the door after getting properly dressed and armed. When he reached the bottom floor he saw around the same amount of spirits floating around, making conversation. He pushed through a few groups and eventually made it to the table. Various foods were scattered around the table and Khor quickly found himself a seat. He found a swirling silver plate and pilled it with mounds of food. He found a fork and began to guzzle it down.
Many disgusted spirits left the area to continue their conversations elsewhere. Others just looked at him disappointed, but Khor ate angrily. Soon Jlk drifted over and said “Well! At first you weren’t hungry but now it looks as if you’re going to put a little stress on our cook.” He laughed and Khor stood. He bowed and replied “My apologizes. I mean no disrespect and was being rude.” He bowed once more and Jlk put his hand in his pocket.
“You seem to have to be apologizing quite a bit lately… Is something wrong, Khor?”
Khor looked away and thought for a moment. Weakling.
“No, nothing.”
“Hmm…” Jlk drifted off and Khor sat back down. He pushed away the plate and rested his elbows on the table. He clenched his head with his hands. “I’m not gonna let you control me.” I already have. Khor gripped his head harder and felt his mind slip away.
The world went dark. Khor was suddenly standing and light began to creep back into a room. The room was simple and square. A table was in the center and a fireplace was on the right wall. There was a chandelier but the fire was the only thing that shed light. The table was set for many and the goblets were even filled with a thick red liquid. The room had no doors, windows, or view points.
As he approached the table a dark figure began to come into view. At first the figure was fuzzy but as he got closer to the head of the table the figure became clearer and he was able to make it out.
It was a tall man with a black, spotless suit. He had well kept long brown hair and had beaming blue eyes. As Khor approached he smiled. He held out his hand and said,
“Welcome Khor. Please, have a seat.” Khor cautiously pulled back the chair and sat.
“Who are you?” The man sat and looked at Khor.
“Right to business then. Very well, my name is Kizen. I have been called many things, traitor, scum… murderer.”
With this the world vibrated as it did the first day the headaches began. Khor also heard a small, shrill ringing. The world bent inwards and Khor’s head seared with pain. He attempted to ignore it to look as if he had control. “Where am I?” After he spoke the world returned to normal and the pain in Khor’s head disappeared.
“This, Khor, is you’re mind.” He gestured to the room and Khor replied, “If this is my mind, what are you doing in it?”
“That’s just the thing I was wishing to discuss with you. You see, there should only be one rightful owner of this mind and I believe it should be me.” Khor was taken aback. What was going on?
“Listen freak.” Khor stood. “I don’t know who the heck you are or what the hell you’re planning but this is my mind, and you’re not welcome in it.” Khor drew Melden and pointed it at Kizen. He stood and pointed at Khor.
“There’s no need for fighting or name calling. If you’re not going to go down easy, you’re going to fall hard.” He snapped his fingers and the room bent. The fire started moving and began to climb out of the fire place. It stood tall and took on the physical properties of a man. Its head was flowing the most and it had two, wavering blue eyes.
Khor took a step back and he slipped. He fell… but he never hit the ground he was falling into the darkness and the room fell away from him. He did eventually, hit a cold stone floor. He sat up and looked around. He was in a stone cell with metal bars and a hallway that led into darkness.
Khor stood and shook the bars violently. “No!” He desperately thought, what could he do? “!” He screamed. The bars should have been blow into many pieces but Khor only felt a sharp pain in his stomach. He coughed up blood and knelt, clutching his stomach.
He willed his shadow guard to come and felt nothing at all. He was severed from the rest of his body. No! I have to do something. He stood and began to shout, “Jlk! Vathen! Heeeelp!!!” His voice echoed through the empty stone hallway and he leaned against the bars. Khor rubbed his head and said to himself, “What am I gonna do? I’m trapped in my own mind. Well, if it’s my mind I can probably do something about this.” Khor sat in the back of the cell and initiated the Favthom. He closed his eyes and focused on his surroundings…
