Fallen Mage Regressor

The dormitory door slammed open. Mal rushed through it and made a sharp turn onto the campus walkway. He stopped and looked around himself. A couple dozen yards away, a squad of keepers were already marching from Central Hall, their blue frills trailing behind them. Several other students had poked their heads out with bleary-eyed expressions. They looked more confused than anything else.

Nima came out a second later, his face still pale white. "W—we need to get to Central Hall. Right? That's what you're supposed to do during times like these."

Mal replied distantly, barely paying attention to his words. "You can feel free to do that, but I need to find out more about what's happening."

He was desperately hoping that he was wrong, but there was a small part of him wondering if he'd accelerated events. He'd been doing such an awful job of blending in—was it inconceivable that his actions might've somehow caused the side effect?

He stiffened. He'd run into Hypode and Norin when he never should've met them. Maybe as a response, something he'd done had caused them to summon the demon earlier.

If that was the case, it would all but confirm that Hypode and Norin were legitimate members of the Bird Eaters. If his suspicions were correct—if the demon had been summoned, then he needed to find Philo and Rolam, and get them to the Central Hall as soon as possible. He didn't like them, and he wasn't doing it out of concern for their safety.

A Keeper squad was already approaching the dormitory. The lead one stepped out and held her hand toward the air. An arcane sphere floated up toward the sky, then exploded into a bright flash of light and sound, instantly snapping all of the dazed students awake.

"Everybody!" she barked. "Get to Central Hall in an orderly line! We have reports of a potentially dangerous intruder on campus!"

A few of the students beside Mal staggered back, then dashed back into their dorm rooms. They came out with three other bleary-eyed and confused students.

Ignoring all of that, Mal dashed toward the lead keeper.

"W—wait!" Nima said. "Why are you running—?!"

Mal stopped in front of the keeper. "I need to speak with you."

The keeper looked down at him and frowned. "You need to start heading toward Central Hall. If you're concerned about your safety, we've already set up barricades and checkpoints there—"

"No, I want to know what the problem is."

A dismissive look crossed her face.

"I won't leave until I get an answer," Mal said, cutting her off.

The woman's eyes narrowed before she scoffed.

"If you must know, a dark magic cultist infiltrated the school. They apparently summoned a lesser demon."

With those words, Mal's suspicions were confirmed. He felt his heart stop.

This is my fault, he thought. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. The actions I took have somehow created this outcome.

"Who's leading the subjugation squad?" Mal asked.

He already knew the answer, but he had to confirm for himself—

"Professor Vigil."

His heart hammered right in his ear. His breath came faster, and there seemed to be a low ring in the background.

He thought he'd have more time. A few months—just a few months to adapt to his new abilities, to gain back the power he lost. Then he could start making changes. As he was, if he tried to interfere, there was a decent chance that his second shot at life would be cut short.

The hostility disappeared from the woman's face and she started to look concerned.

"Hey," she said. "He might be an old man, but he knows what he's doing. You don't have to be so worried."

She didn't know. None of them knew—under normal circumstances, she'd be absolutely right. But something about this demon had let it get the jump on Vigil in the original timeline. And if Mal didn't do something about it, history would repeat itself.

The world went quiet.

Then again, he thought, that might be to my benefit.

He'd already screwed with the past enough. Stopping somebody from dying? That would send things careening even faster off course. What if the invasion ended up happening sooner? What if the cult accelerated their timeline?

It might just be the safer move to sit back and not do anything.

"Kid? Are you okay?"

He felt the tension drain out of him. Yeah, Philo and Rolam were somewhere there, but the odds that the demon would come across them were slim. Hell, for all he knew, this had happened in the original timeline and they'd just been unceremoniously grabbed by the keepers and sent to the Central Hall.

Nima had caught up to Mal by this point. He reached out and touched him on the shoulder. "Mal? You okay?"

Even so, there was this ball that had formed at the pit of his stomach.

If he left, wouldn't it be his fault when Vigil died? He knew that something would happen, but he stood by and did nothing. If it really was his fault, then…

Then it would be another body on the pyre.

Another life in sacrifice to the greater good.

The same choice he'd made in his first life, over, over, and over again.

His hands clenched and he stared at the ground.

If he was just here to repeat history…

Then what was even the point of coming back?

"Mal?"

Mal raised his head. His mind was made up.

The woman looked down at him in confusion. "What was that about?"

"I was just deciding something." He nodded at her. "Thank you for the information. I'll be taking my leave." Mal turned right as if he was about to head off toward Central Hall —

Then immediately broke left, heading deeper into the campus.

Nima's eyes widened and he dashed after Mal only to be grabbed by the woman. She turned toward one of her subordinates. "Go after him!"

The subordinate reared back. "We can't, we need everybody here to keep the students safe—"

their voices faded away. Internally, a section of his brain was screaming at him for his idiocy. He didn't have a plan, and he was going up against a foe that was currently significantly stronger than him.

Mal made a sharp turn in between some campus buildings. His eyes widened as far as he could stretch them as he continued to run.

His first priority was finding Philo and Rolam. Two heralds, dead in the first year? Mal had already screwed up enough. If that were allowed to happen, he might as well try going back in time again for a third try—not that there was any guarantee that he'd be capable of replicating that particular miracle.

His second priority was finding the demon—preferably after he'd secured Philo and Rolam. Even though he wanted to change things, it still came second to making sure that those two were still alive.

He smelled the air. Fire—not brimstone, but the same scent you get by the side of a campfire. Philo's smell.

Mal's eyes turned in a circle. Although it was hard to make out due to the latent unaligned mana resting in the air, he could see faint traces of light red. Mal ran across the field, chasing the trail when he slammed into something.

The sudden stop threw him backward and he rolled into the grass. He forced himself to stand up and was greeted by the sight of Philo, eyes wide and with cuts and tears all across his cloak.

"Ape? What are you doing here?" Philo asked. "Did you not hear the bell?"

"I was looking for you and Rolam." Mal brushed off his robes. "Speaking of which, do you have any idea where he went?"

Philo's eyes widened when Mal said he was looking for him, but as soon as Rolam was mentioned, he let out a low growl.

“Philo hasn’t the slightest clue. And frankly, Philo thinks it's a waste of time for you to search for him. Let's just head to Central Hall, Philo’s sure that this is just a test anyway—"

"It's not a test."

Philo stiffened. "What? How do you know that?"

"I asked one of the Keepers. They confirmed it. There's a demon on the loose."

Philo's jaw flapped open and shut. For the first time since Mal had met him, he was speechless.

His disbelief was shaken off with a quick turn of his head. "R—Right. In that case, ape, it's even more important that we head to Central Hall as quickly as possible."

Philo started walking off.

"I can't do that. I need to find Rolam."

Philo looked back, an absolutely flabbergasted expression on his face. Twice in one conversation, he'd been rendered speechless.

"Since when did you care about—?" He shook his head. "While your devotion to your circle mate is admirable, if there really is a demon attack occurring, then we might end up becoming a target. We should just head to Central Hall and let the keepers take care of it. Philo’s sure they'll find Rolam and help him."

"You can head on. I'll keep on looking for him."

Something in Philo's face cracked. "You’d really put your life on the line for that person?”

Mal stared at him emotionlessly. "If that's what it takes to find him, yes."

"That Elven waste of space can't even use the most basic of spells! The only thing he's good for is cannon fodder." Philo's gaze seemed to turn distant, like he was talking to someone else rather than Mal. "And then he has the audacity to tell me to silence myself? To say that the reason I'm here is because I couldn't cut it under the tutelage of another draconid? He's got a lot of nerve saying that, given his own circumstances. He already told everyone that he failed out of the Elven academy. So where does he get off acting like he's so much better than me?!"

He was breathing hard. After his rant, his back slumped and his eyes were as sharp as daggers.

Mal frowned. He really didn't have time to argue with Philo, so he just said the first thing that came to mind.

"Whatever the case," Mal said. "He's still our circle mate. We have a duty to him."

Philo seemed to choke on something. He looked away, flexed his claws, then sighed.

"You, of all people, talking about the duties that a circle mate has? You barely pretend we exist half the time." He seemed to slump over further, his eyes shutting. "Which means that if that's what you're saying, you must really mean it."

Mal resisted the urge to make a face. This was definitely not the impression that he wanted to make on Philo. He turned around without another word and started to break off into a run.

He felt claws touch his shoulder and stopped him in place. Mal turned back to glare at him, when Philo cut him off.

"You're going in the wrong direction," he said. He pointed off to the side with his other hand. "When Philo last saw him, he was stomping off that way. It looked like he was going to the—"

"The Magic Theory and Spellcasting department." Mal furrowed his eyebrows together. "But why?"

Philo made an awkward, high-pitched laugh. "Well, after he insulted me, I decided to take the opportunity to point out every single one of his failings as a mage. I think I may have cut a bit too deep?"

"So he went there to practice. And if he's not there anymore, it's safe to assume that he heard the alarm and went back."

Mal broke off into a run toward the building. Behind him, he heard Philo's feet pounding the ground to his side. He gave a quick glance, the question on his face obvious.

Philo snorted and a puff of smoke came out. "I'm not going for him, I'm keeping an eye on you."

Mal ground his teeth together. The last thing he needed was to put one of the heralds in danger. But he couldn't very well afford to waste any more time arguing with Philo.

I'll grab Rolam and take them both to Central Hall, Mal thought. After that, I'll sneak out and hunt down the demon.

His internal voice was as firm and strong as ever. But still, that ball that had formed at the pit of his stomach hadn't gone away.

He hurried his pace. Philo matched him.

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