When I finally woke up, I felt the incredibly familiar sensation of being stabbed—gently—in the ribs.
I opened my eyes to see the culprit:
Effie poking me with her spear like I was some kind of suspicious corpse.
Her spear was plain except for its golden tip, which glinted in the dim light as she prodded me with way too much enthusiasm.
I grabbed the shaft and pushed it aside as I sat up.
"Damn, you're still alive?"
Effie leaned on the spear and set her hands on her hips. Thankfully, she was fully clothed this time. I didn't think I had the mental capacity for whatever disaster that would've started.
"Probably," I said with a stretch. "Or maybe I'm a ghost haunting you. Ever think of that?"
Effie sighed deeply, then squinted at me.
"Okay, so why exactly did you decide to have a surprise sleepover in our room?"
I shrugged.
"Option one was that… or I sleep in the room with that priest, and while I might not be twelve, I still don't think I'm safe around him."
Effie let out a loud laugh at that.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. But if I find out you were peeking at us while we were sleeping, I'll crush your skull with my thighs."
I wisely said nothing.
Mostly because the threat wasn't entirely unappealing.
I left her there and walked toward the planning room. Sara was already awake, studying a map with a tired stare. The others were still asleep, so this was my best chance.
"So," I said, pointing to the crude sketch of the lighthouse. "Do you know what's down there?"
Sara didn't even look up at first.
"No. But judging by the fact you came back bleeding, I'm guessing it's not good."
I wiped some leftover blood from my face with my sleeve.
"Yeah, so… there's a bunch of skeletons down there. A lot. Like an army. They didn't attack me though, so maybe they're sealed or restricted. At the end of the tunnel there's a giant canyon, and across it? A nightmare creature made of bones. Huge. And it has this… green eye. Puts you under illusions."
Sara finally looked up, eyes wide.
For a moment she seemed completely unprepared for the amount of information I just dropped. Then she sighed, rubbed her temples, and got to work trying to form some kind of plan.
Meanwhile, I needed blood. Fresh blood.
If I wanted any hope of fighting that thing, I needed more practice — a lot more.
So I walked out and summoned Beast.
"Alright buddy," I said, scratching under his chin. "Do your thing."
He gave a growling purr, then dashed off into the city. A few minutes later, he returned dragging a nightmare creature's corpse behind him, tail wagging proudly.
I knelt down and patted him. "Good boy."
Then I got to work.
I pulled the blood free and began manipulating it, trying to form thin, sharp strands — the thinnest possible.
Two millimeters was the best I could manage before the structure collapsed.
Pathetic.
Then I tried condensing the blood. It took too much, far too much. I had to find a way to decrease the amount needed per attack or I'd run dry mid-fight.
Finally, I told Beast to fire his blood beam.
He opened his jaws, energy gathering, the blood condensing into a pulsing mass — then he launched it in a perfect, cutting arc.
I studied everything.
The way the blood vibrated.
The shift in pressure.
The pulse before release.
The focus.
Then I inhaled deeply and tried to mimic it.
I commanded the blood to gather, condense, build—
I launched it.
And produced the saddest, most embarrassing spit of blood you could imagine. It flew a grand total of maybe five centimeters.
I stared at the tiny red drip on the ground.
"Well. That was pathetic."
If I wanted to imitate Beast's beam, I needed either ten times the blood or ten times the control. Preferably both.
So I trained. All day. All night.
Failed.
Tried again.
Failed again.
Improved. Barely.
Eventually the moon faded and the sky was swallowed again by the ever-present clouds.
That meant morning.
And that meant my time was up.
I walked back to the cohort, exhausted, bleeding a bit, and smelling like stale iron.
Everyone was getting ready.
Strapping on their armor memories.
Sharpening weapon memories.
Checking bows, spears, swords — and the occasional eccentric weapon like a mace.
They all moved with that quiet heaviness people get when they know the next few hours might be the last ones they spend together.
And honestly?
Standing there, watching them all prepare…
I wasn't sure any of us were ready.