Time Cursed Mage - Chapter 2: Looping

[Initiating Curse]

[Restarting Day]

"Wake up, you lazy sons of whores!"

The voice jolted Kaspar awake, his heart pounding as if it might burst from his chest. Panic surged through him, and instinctively, he tried to scream. But his throat was parched, so dry that no sound emerged, only a silent gasp as his mouth opened and closed in desperation.

Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision. Frantically, he ran trembling hands over his face and neck, searching for the burns he felt. Memories flooded all at once. He almost felt the flames consuming him, the agonizing pain of his flesh melting away.

'God. God.' Kaspar prayed in silence, though he had never been a religious man. Desperation drove him to seek any form of solace. ‘This is the second time.’

He recalled dying in the inferno of a collapsing building. The second time was being burned by some flying reptiles.

Yet, this time, something was different. He hadn't transitioned to another world. He was here, back where he'd started.

‘I should be burned. Completely burned,’ he thought, terror gripping his soul.

Through the small opening at the front of his tent, he glimpsed the source of the shout. A stern-faced and imposing officer stood there. The medals on his chest marked him as someone of authority. However, Kaspar had no real grasp of the ranks or hierarchy in this strange place.

‘I'm still in the same place as yesterday. Or am I?’ Kaspar pressed his palms against his temples.

"The gate will open in six hours!" another voice rang out, this time from behind his tent. "Present yourselves to your superiors!"

Kaspar frowned. None of this had happened before. He could only remember the moments before the gate had opened. The vast procession, the ominous doors, and the attack that followed. But now there was time, a window he hadn't been afforded previously.

Pushing himself to his knees, Kaspar looked around the interior of his tent. His robe lay crumpled on the ground, the same one he'd worn when when he died. The fabric was coarse but bore an intricate emblem stitched in silver thread. Next to it were muddied clothes, stiff with dried earth. There were also two worn books filled with symbols and scripts he couldn't comprehend.

He picked up one of the books, flipping through brittle pages. The strange diagrams and cryptic text offered no answers. Frustration and fear twisted inside him. With a growl, he tossed the books and clothes into a corner.

‘No weapons, no identification, nothing to tell me who I am or what I'm supposed to be doing here. Great,' Kaspar grumbled.

Just then, the tent flap rustled. Kaspar froze in place. Something or someone was outside, pushing against the entrance.

"Get moving, Kaspar! Get out here, you useless fool!" A gruff voice spoke from outside his tent.

Pushing aside the tent flap, Kaspar peered out to see who was shouting. Standing before him was a chubby man. A thick, bushy mustache adorned his upper lip, curling at the ends. He wore the officer's uniform, but unlike others Kaspar had seen, his attire wasn’t colorful, just gray. Draped over his shoulders was a long blue cape.

"Sir?" Kaspar stepped out of his tent, standing at attention. He didn't recognize this officer, nor could he recall ever having met him. His memories were a haze, fragments of familiarity lost in the fog.

‘At least I've confirmed that my name is Kaspar,’ he thought, clinging to that small certainty.

"Don't 'sir' me, you worthless brat!" the officer snapped, his eyes narrowing with irritation. "You should already be with the rest of your group. You lot are supposed to prepare the mana crystals for the ritual." His voice was loud, unnecessarily so.

"Yes, sir," Kaspar replied instinctively. Yet, he had no idea what ritual the man was referring to or what was expected of him. 'There's always an asshole officer like this,’ he mused silently.

The officer wasn't done. Before leading the way, he stomped over to a neighboring tent and kicked its supporting pole. The canvas collapsed, and muffled protests started as someone struggled to escape. "Get moving, you lazy maggots!" the officer roared. One by one, disheveled students emerged, quickly gathering their belongings.

When ten individuals, including Kaspar, had assembled, the officer finally seemed satisfied. "For imbeciles meeting me for the first time," he declared, puffing out his chest with exaggerated pride.

"I am Blut von Omstr, First Lieutenant and Third Circle Mage." His name and rank rolled off his tongue with self-importance as if it alone should command their respect.

Blut turned on his heel and began marching through the maze of tents. The group followed, striving to keep pace. 

The officer led them deeper into the dungeon to a logistics tent near the immense gates.

Among the open-sided tents stood ten large wooden crates. Blut strode over to them, gesturing for the group to gather around.

"You are to check and confirm the functioning of the mana crystals that will be used," he announced. He pried open one of the crates with a creak of wood and metal, reaching inside to withdraw an object.

From within the crate, Blut got a bluish crystal about the size of his palm. It glowed softly, internal light swirling like captured mist. "For the first-years who have never seen a mana crystal, get a good look," he said with veiled contempt.

Kaspar leaned in to get a better look. The crystal was mesmerizing, its luminescence casting a pale blue glow on their faces. Tiny fissures ran through it like veins, and he could feel a subtle hum of energy emanating from it.

Blut continued, his gaze sharp as he surveyed the group. "These crystals serve to amplify a mage's mana. But don't think you can use them to get extra circles or cast spells beyond your limits," he warned. "They won't increase your magical rank or compensate for your shortfalls."

As soon as Blut concluded his gruff explanation, he tossed a mana crystal toward each trainee. The crystals sailed through the air, colliding against their chests. Kaspar caught one with unsteady hands, the cool surface pressing into his palm.

"You need to insert a bit of mana," Blut barked, his voice resonating through the cavernous chamber. "See if it's glowing, and then separate those that aren't." His steely gaze swept over the group, finally settling on Kaspar with a piercing stare.

Blut stayed put, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, as he the other students.

Kaspar held the crystal, turning it over as he studied its sides. His mind raced, thoughts tumbling over one another. ‘Mana? Crystals? Magic?’ he wondered, a knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach. The previous day was filled with strange things and unexplainable events. Yet, he hadn't thought that magic was an actual thing.

‘And I'm supposed to know what to do with this?’ Kaspar questioned himself.

A scowl darkened Blut's face as he noticed Kaspar. 

"Damn it, not you. You're a Bastard," he snarled, snatching the crystal from Kaspar's hands. "Go make yourself useful and clean those crystals. Those of you who have mana, get on with testing." He pointed a finger toward a stained cloth atop a nearby wooden table.

Kaspar nodded, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment and frustration. ‘Bastard? What does it mean not to have mana?’ he echoed internally. The weight of Blut's contempt bore down on him, amplifying his sense of being an outsider.

As Blut turned away, he complained loud enough for all to hear, "How the hell do they let someone without mana come to a Magic Academy? Just because he has high scores? It makes no sense." His cape swirled behind him as he strode off.

The moment the lieutenant was out of earshot, the other boys began their tasks. They gathered in small groups, whispering softly. They channeled mana into their crystals. They shot sharp, accusing looks at Kaspar. Their eyes showed disdain and superiority.

Kaspar swallowed hard, his throat dry. He took his place at the end of the line, where he got dimmed crystals without a word. The rough cloth felt heavy in his hand as he began to polish each one. The repetitive motion offered some comfort; Kaspar could turn off his brain and not think about his problems.

Finally, after dreading hours, the last box was filled. The boys dispersed without acknowledging him, leaving Kaspar alone in the now-quiet tent. He exhaled slowly, flexing his stiff fingers before stepping outside.

Kaspar stretched his arms overhead, feeling the pull of sore muscles.

"Prepare yourselves! We are about to open the gate!" a commanding voice boomed, cutting through the camp's ambient noise.

Kaspar's head snapped toward the source. Standing atop a raised platform was the same officer he had seen before.

'No, it's not a coincidence,' Kaspar thought, a chill creeping down his spine. 'I've heard him say that before.'

A sense of déjà vu washed over him, intense and disorienting. 

‘What had he shouted afterward?’ Kaspar tried to remember.

He whispered the words under his breath, almost instinctively. "Don't just stand there. You need to proceed to the front of the gate."

As if in response, the officer echoed his thoughts. "Don't just stand there! You need to proceed to the front of the gate!"

"No," Kaspar murmured, feeling his heart skip a beat and a sharp pain in his chest. "This isn't déjà vu."

In an instant, he found himself once more standing before the colossal gate, its doors groaning as they opened. The massive stone slabs revealed a yawning abyss beyond. Alongside the others, he began to tread the corridor that stretched ahead.

From the darkness above, the beating of heavy wings stirred the air. Kaspar glanced upward in time to see shadows breaking away from the ceiling. Wyverns, their scaly bodies glinting in the dim light, eyes blazing like embers. Terror clenched his gut.

'This is where I died... have died... will die?' His thoughts spiraled in chaos, barely clinging to coherence. His mind was a tempest. Memories and fears smashed together until he could hardly distinguish the past from the present. He was so focused on his fears and enemies that he almost failed to notice the anomaly beside him.

As the first wyvern released its flames, Kaspar instinctively dropped to the ground. It was then that he saw it, a translucent figure mere inches away, mirroring his movements. The figure was completely emerald, its form shimmering like a ghostly echo. It copied his every motion with uncanny precision.

Driven by a surge of adrenaline, Kaspar rolled to the side, narrowly evading another blast of fire. 'Next, they'll spray flames by our side,' he recalled, his prior experiences flooding back.

Pushing himself up, he sprinted toward one of the colossal stone pillars that lined the corridor. But as he ducked behind the column, he realized the phantom double had not followed. Instead, it remained exposed in the open corridor, like most students.

The wyverns' fiery breath engulfed the figure. Yet it just flickered briefly before vanishing.

Kaspar's eyes widened in disbelief. "What was that?" he whispered, confusion for a moment eclipsing his fear. 

That brief hesitation proved fatal. A sinister shadow descended over him, and too late did he sense the looming threat. Turning around, Kaspar faced the gaping jaws of a wyvern mere feet away. Its scales were the color of midnight, jaws lined with serrated fangs.

He tried to leap back, but there was no escape. The creature struck, its powerful jaws closing around him. Agony ripped through his body as the wyvern's teeth pierced flesh and bone. He felt himself lifted from the ground, the world tilting as the monster shook him like a rag doll. The sickening crunch of his own bones echoed in his ears.

Pain engulfed him, a crushing, all-consuming force. His vision blurred, darkness creeping in. The last thing he saw was the wyvern's eyes looking into his, a predatory triumph gleaming within them.

[Initiating Curse]

[Restarting Day]