Cecilus stared down at the childlike version of himself.
The figure was slightly blurred behind the barrier, as though he were looking through fogged glass, but there was no mistaking who it was. The boy beyond the wall was him. The same pale skin, the same hair, the same eyes.
Yet unlike Cecilus, the younger version did not seem to notice that anyone was there.
Cecilus struck the barrier with his fist. The impact made no sound, and there was no sensation of resistance beyond the simple fact that he could not pass through. It was like hitting the surface of still water that refused to ripple.
He stopped and thought for a moment.
That's likely my old self... there's no one else it can be.
Cecilus closed his eyes and focused on his soul. He tried to control it, drawing it closer to his body, compressing it, making its presence denser. In his mind, he believed that if his soul became stronger or more present, the boy on the other side might finally notice him.
But something entirely different happened.
Another figure slowly began to fade into existence beside the boy.
Cecilus immediately recognized her.
Taeral.
The younger Cecilus reacted for the first time. His eyes widened, and shock spread across his face as Taeral appeared before him.
Then, as if a memory were being replayed, Taeral's body began to change. Her form deteriorated, shifting into the state she had been in after her battle with Nerevrax. Wounds opened across her body, her posture weakened, and then her body began to tear apart piece by piece, like a mirror of what had happened after the battle with the frost mage.
The current Cecilus did not react. His face remained still and emotionless. He had personally slaughtered Taeral. There was no reason for him to feel anything now.
But the boy behind the barrier collapsed to the ground.
Sweat poured down his face as he watched in horror while Taeral was cut apart. From the current Cecilus's perspective, it looked as though her body was being torn to pieces by an invisible force.
But as the current Cecilus looked closely into the boy's eyes, he saw a reflection.
It was himself.
He was expressionless, stabbing down again and again into Taeral's body like a machine made only for killing.
When Taeral was reduced to nothing but a pool of blood, the young Cecilus slowly lifted his head and looked directly at his older self.
His face was filled with fear.
Cecilus frowned slightly.
Why is he afraid? Is death really something so frightening that it can shock myself like that?
"You," Cecilus said, pointing at the boy behind the barrier. "Are you really going to be the one in control when I regain my memories?"
The boy said nothing. His hands trembled as he stared at the blood on the ground.
Then, suddenly, the boy summoned a sword.
Without hesitation, he dragged the blade across his own throat.
***
Cecilus slowly opened his eyes.
He was lying in a bed inside one of the village houses.
"That was a dream?" he murmured quietly.
He pushed aside the thin blanket and began putting on his clothes, but as he pulled his shirt over his head, he suddenly recoiled and grimaced.
"I smell like shit..."
He stopped dressing, gathered his belongings, and walked outside. He tossed the items into the air, and Xena manifested to catch them effortlessly.
Using the memories he had taken from the villagers, Cecilus walked back inside briefly and found a wooden pail. Then, without wearing any clothes, he made his way toward the river.
The sun was just beginning to rise, only half visible above the flat desert horizon. The light spread slowly across the sand, turning the world a pale gold.
Cecilus stepped into the river. The current was gentle, and the water was shallow, barely reaching his waist. He bent down, scooped up water, and began to wash himself. He ran his fingers through his hair, slicking it back as water ran down his pale skin.
He rubbed his face, then looked down at his reflection in the water.
Clean enough...
He thought back to when he had first lost his memories. At that time, he had known nothing. He had not even recognized the face staring back at him from the water.
"How long has it been since then?" Cecilus muttered as he poured water over his shoulders.
"Three years? Three years... searching for what? My old self?"
Does it even matter? What could I possibly gain from learning about who I used to be?
His thoughts drifted back to the dream.
Do I want to become that fragile? If my memories return... I need to be the one in control. Why was he afraid of me? Fearing yourself is absurd... but then again, it was just a dream...
His thoughts began to shift again.
Even if I've decided that I will be the one in control when my memories return, I still need that last soul first.
The white devil hasn't been consistent with its help. It didn't warn me when the ice mage was approaching, even though it can sense souls from far away. And it warned me far too late about the boy who spotted me in this village.
There are also the missing villagers. The white devil should have known where they went.
I've been testing it. Asking it questions first before searching through memories myself. If it answers, I learn something about what it knows. If it doesn't, I learn something else.
But I still don't know enough. All I really know is that it can sense souls from far away. That's not enough to determine whether I could win in a fight against it.
But I can estimate its strength.
If it's a magical creature, then it represents a magic type. Most likely soul magic. Otherwise it wouldn't be able to sense souls.
If it has powers similar to mine, then it probably relies on summons... but how am I supposed to figure out how strong its summons are?
Cecilus stepped out of the river and watched as Xena galloped toward him from the distance, his bag fastened to the saddle. He opened it and took out a cloth, drying himself before getting dressed.
After dressing, he removed the bag from Xena, and she dissipated back into his soul world. Instead of riding her, he planned to fly like before.
He summoned the blood crow, jumped onto its back, and they took off into the sky, following the flow of the river. The crow was large, with plenty of space for Cecilus to sit securely. After making sure he was stable, he ordered the crow to continue flying and protect him.
Then Cecilus closed his eyes and entered his soul world.
He had learned to do this willingly early in his journey from the white devil. First, he would visualize his soul expanding, then imagine his body moving inside it.
Sometimes he entered this place naturally when he slept or lost consciousness, but those methods did not allow control. This method did.
The reason he entered now was because of the dream.
When Cecilus opened his eyes, he was standing once again in his soul world. His elemental and Xena were present, but the blood crow remained in the waking world.
Usually, when I go to that barrier, I only see blurry shapes. The white devil said those were the summons from my past life.
He walked to the barrier again and examined it carefully.
Just as he expected, the boy was not there. Only the blurry silhouettes of creatures stood beyond the barrier.
But something was different.
Wait... I could swear they were harder to see before.
He stared closely at the figures.
Yes... they're clearer now. I can actually make them out. Two of them look like golems... and one is a wolf. Before I fought the ice mage, they weren't this clear...
What did I gain from that fight that could have made them clearer?
He thought for a long time.
What did I gain that could connect me to my past self?
Then he remembered the dream.
Taeral! It must be because I gained Taeral's soul. That must have strengthened the connection to my past self.
Does the white devil know about this?
But what does it even change in the end? I can see the summons more clearly, but...
That dream... how real was it? It felt like I was truly here. I don't remember falling asleep again either. So was that actually my past self?
Damn it... none of this makes sense.
But if that really is my past self... what will happen when the memories return?
Will I be overwritten? Will I disappear and become nothing more than a few memories for my past self?
Or will I be the one in control?
Cecilus sighed and summoned his sword. His sword was bound to his soul as well, so he could use it in this world.
Instead of trying to fall asleep to leave this place, he used the faster method he had discovered long ago.
He stabbed himself in the stomach.
The pain was sharp, but he had experienced so much pain over the past three years that it barely affected him anymore.
He opened his eyes and found himself once again on the back of the blood crow.
"Devil. Are you there?" Cecilus asked immediately.
The white devil appeared beside him.
"Why do you ask?"
"I have a question. When my memories return, what will happen to me and my old self? Will we combine, or will it be a one-sided takeover?"
"It will be a one-sided takeover. But I thought you didn't care about such things."
"I realized that I don't like the idea of losing myself to someone who might be worse than me. If it's a one-sided takeover... which side wins?"
The white devil gave a faint laugh. "What do you think?"
Cecilus thought silently.
If the one who has lived longer wins, that would be the worst outcome for me... but there's no point assuming the worst. And if that does happen... I might abandon this goal. But what if there's another factor? Something that decides who takes control...
"If it's a winner-takes-all situation," Cecilus said slowly, "then the stronger side should be the one that survives."
"Yes," the white devil replied. "That is correct, Cecilus. When your memories return, you will fight yourself. The one who survives will be the one who continues living."
Cecilus smiled faintly.
Then I have no other option.
My goal hasn't changed. I already know what kind of summons my old self has. They're weaker than mine.
I will continue hunting for that last soul, even if the white devil tries to obstruct me.
I will kill my old self and be born anew.