Birthright-The Technomage Archive by B.J. Keeton

torso.
    He slowly curled into the fetal position, and lay there bleeding out.
    Finally, Ceril gathered his thoughts and yelled at Ethan’s friends. “Go find someone to help. What’s wrong with you two?”
    Both boys just stood there and stared as their friend burbled blood.
    “ Go!” Ceril yelled again. “Now!” He turned back and tried to stop the bleeding. Ceril was acutely aware that he did this to Ethan—and not just because he was coated in another student’s blood. It had been his sword—the whole reason he was aboard the Inkwell Sigil —that caused this.
    And Ceril hadn’t even meant to summon it.
    Maybe Roman was right. Maybe he did need to learn to control it better. As though to verify, a large pulse of Ethan’s blood squirted from the wound beneath Ceril’s hand.
    He applied more pressure, and said, “Ethan, come on, man. How are you doing?”
    He spit blood on Ceril’s face in response. Ceril had no idea if it was intentional.
    He used one arm to wipe his face, but it barely helped. Ceril's fatigues were soaked with blood. He leaned down close to Ethan and pressed both of his hands on the older boy's chest and back. He was trying to cover both wounds his Flameblade had made, but he could still feel the blood pushing at his hands. He could feel it spurting into his palms and through his fingers every time Ethan breathed, shuddered, or tried to move.
    Time passed—Ceril had no idea how much—and finally Roman pulled Ceril off Ethan and tossed him to the side. Bryt and Howser immediately went to Ethan’s side. Ceril involuntarily grunted a protest at being tossed around like that, but Roman shushed him.
    He complied. He knew when to keep quiet.
    The next few minutes were surreal, and later, Ceril could only remember snippets from the ordeal. Ceril would remember standing off to the side as the professors tried to save a student’s life. Later, Roman would tell him that Ethan was dead when they had arrived. Ceril was so dazed and had been concentrating so hard on the wounds, he hadn't even noticed.
    Ceril would remember feeling cold, but not just from his clothes being soaked in blood. He shivered and wanted to close his eyes, but didn’t out of respect—penance?—for Ethan.
    I killed someone .
    Later, Ceril would recall Roman coming over to him, stern-faced and long-winded. He had no idea what Roman had said to him. He just remembered Roman offering him a choice.
    He would remember being covered in blood, cold and scared, and Roman offering him a choice.

Chapter Seven
    “ He's dead, Ceril,” Roman said calmly. “You killed him.”
    “ I gathered,” Ceril said. He hadn’t intended to sound so callous, but once he spoke, there was no taking it back.
    “ You gathered? Really? You gathered that you ended another person’s life ? How very astute, boy. Are you proud of yourself?”
    “ No, sir.”
    “ I suppose I should be thankful for that,” Roman said. “Do you have any idea what is going to happen to you now, son?”
    “ No, sir.”
    “ I’m going to give you a choice,” Roman said.
    “ A choice?” Ceril said. He raised his eyes to meet Roman's.
    “ Yes, Ceril, a choice,” the older man continued. “A choice that you had damned well better think long and hard about before you give me your response.”
    “ Yes, sir,” Ceril said. “I will, sir.”
    “ Tell me, Ceril. Do you like it here? Really?”
    Ceril thought hard. He liked it in Ternia with Gramps. He liked being in the garden, liked being under the twin suns. He also liked being at Ennd's and rooming with Swarley. But did he like it here? He had spent an entire year in an Instance that was unfathomably far away from everyone and everything he had ever known. A year had passed, and he still wasn’t sure.
    He pursed his lips and stared at Roman.
    Yes. He did like it there. Most of the time.
    “ Sometimes, sir,” Ceril finally answered.
    “ Sometimes?” Roman sounded hurt. “How incredibly noncommittal of