Each step through the forest brought pain beyond imagining. After a few minutes of running and no doubt causing more internal injuries, I reduced my speed to a slow walk. The bolt in my abdomen was my greatest fear at the moment. I had to get it out and hope that I could stop the bleeding via cauterization. My medical skills were lacking, to say the least. I dropped my cloak and started the laborious process of unbuckling my breastplate.

  Each fresh stab of pain threatened to wring a cry from my throat. There was an undercurrent of fear that my cries could attract any number of predators. The Dalianar forest hasn't had human influence, so there could be magical creatures roaming around.

  The quickest way to remove the bolt was simply pulling apart the two halves of my breastplate. The barbed tip would simply anchor on the front and pull itself out.

  ‘Damn it all, why were there ten buckles?’

  I complained about everything in my mind, uncaring that it was my own fault. Finally, all ten were unlatched, and with a pained gasp, I pushed the front of my breastplate forward. The feeling of the foot-long bolt sliding through my abdomen was somehow more uncomfortable than painful.

  Though the pain and discomfort were enormous, I was unwilling to stop.

  The bleeding was bad, but it was mostly coming from the exit, a small mercy. I had to stop or slow it down. Cauterization, I knew, wasn't the best solution, but I had to stop the bleeding somehow.

  Reaching into my pack, I pulled out a small notebook. Flipping past everything, I found my collection of arcane circles. Painfully picking up the bolt, I sighed, knowing what I had to do. Finding the heat metal circle, I grit my teeth and made the binding. The bolt had almost no fletching, making the fully steel bolt rather streamlined. Such smooth curves had to have been made by magic.

  This, however, meant that it would be the perfect tool to cauterize the wound. It was bleeding too quickly, and I had no other options. I painfully reached down, held the bolt over the page, and watched with trepidation as it heated rather quickly. My thick metal gauntlet provided ample protection.

  After it was glowing yellow, I stared at the wound, which was pushing out a steady stream of blood.

  I got to my knees, lining up the glowing bolt to the wound.

  ‘You have to do this, Myr; it’s this or bleed out.’

  With my animus activated, I bolstered my will, then brought the bolt to the entrance of the wound. As soon as it touched me, I tensed up, and a scream of agony was ripped from my throat. But I didn't stop; the glowing bolt entered slowly, and I could feel and smell my flesh cooking.

  It was agony beyond words, beyond comprehension. It was so unbelievably painful, I almost begged Anier to make it stop. After a few inches, I slowly pulled the bolt back out and dropped it to the ground.

  Somehow, through luck or from the goddess herself, the bleeding slowed significantly. But I couldn't move or even think. I just knelt there, letting the pain ripple through me. The acrid scent of urine wafting up to my nose was enough to bring me out of my pain-induced paralysis.

  ‘At least I didn't soil myself.’

  What medical supplies I had were just leftovers from the quest with the dragon. Little more than some strips of clean cloth and catgut. The roll of clean linens was just enough to wrap around my abdomen. Knowing that beasts lived in the forest, I had to at least put my breastplate back on.

  ‘Damn you, Heywood.’

  It took almost an hour of work, but I was up and walking again. If I were Heywood, I would patrol the forest for anyone leaving. The only question was how long he would maintain it. Weeks? Months?

  Ideally, I could cross the forest, ending up on the northern part of the Storm Peaks. They were certainly unlikely to have patrols there. It was a good enough plan; I could only hope that this wound didn't become corrupted.

  If that happened, then there was no hope for me.

  ~

  Somehow, after resting for a minute, I fell completely asleep against a tree trunk. I awoke in the dead of night in pain, all radiating from my wound. At best, I managed to cross a mile. At this rate, it would take well over a month. Food would become a problem, since my meager rations wouldn't last more than a few days.

  There were animals about, birds and other things, but hunting was not one of my skills; magic was a decent enough substitute. An odd bellowing roar echoed across the forest; it scared me half to death, but in the dead of night, I could see nothing. My amulet was empty; I fortunately still had my energy rings. But making a light, I believed, would only attract whatever that was to me. It happened twice more, each time at a slightly lower volume.

  ‘It’s moving away.’

  I sighed in relief. I wanted to get up, but my limbs felt like lead.

  ‘I’ll wait until morning.’

  ~

  I was walking again; every step was still painful, and every breath threatened to wring a cry from my throat. The pain was so intense that it became disorienting. Only the position of the sun was a constant reminder of my direction.

  Throughout my painful trek, there was a lingering fear: that the wound would be corrupted. I was shot through my upper abdomen. I didn't think my stomach was pierced, but something important had to be damaged.

  When the corruption sets in, I would be in for a long and agonizing death. I thought of many solutions; maybe by sheer luck, the wound would heal, I could turn back, and maybe Heywood would spare my life. He no doubt would have patrols monitoring the forest. But knowing Heywood, there would be no such mercy. Forward it is and always will be.

  ~

  The pine forest was dense with heavy shrubbery; fortunately, the ground was flat and easy to traverse, the temperature mild, and the wind calm. If not for my pierced abdomen, it would have been a pleasant place. Again, I was reminded of my time amongst the forests near Farway, the trees stretching into the sky like leafy fingers.

  As I stared up at the sky, I wished I could simply fly away. My plan was rather simple: just cross the forest and exit to the east. Then I could make my way south. It was a far longer journey, but safer.

  After two days of walking, I sighed and removed my shirt and chain to check the wound. It was too much of an effort to re-equip my breastplate each time, so I abandoned it. I hoped beyond hope that the unending pain was just that, pain, and not a sign of worse things to come.

  I didn't have to remove the bandage to know that I was a dead woman walking. The discharge from the wound was horrid, oddly sweet, and foul-smelling. It was corrupted.

  “Ah, I see,” I said numbly. I implicitly knew that I would die someday, but now my life could be measured in days or weeks, not decades. It would have been a greater mercy to bleed out. The pain that would consume me as the corruption progressed was said to drive men mad.

  I walked over to a tree, sat down, and stared at the sky.

  ‘So, this is my end…How long has it been since I just sat down?’

  I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, trying to find a solution. Somehow, beyond the pain and despair, my mind managed to drift off once more.

  ‘

  The pain does not cease, not of flesh but of heart. Clutches were killed and butchered for parts and our core. I am the last of my kind. I know this…feel this. My last clutch failed, rotting and dying within days.

  There was a scent on the wind that even in this tepid nest fills me with old hate, then a scream… Humans. Why are they here? To fill my belly? To take my core? To end the last of my mighty people.

  ~

  Breathing in, I felt the waves of the infinite chaos, and therein lay a familiar disturbance. The corruption and unnaturalness of their accursed magic curdles my blood, filling me with equal parts hate and fear.

  ~

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  They will burn with the last of my blood and bone; I shall avenge the deaths in this small way.

  ~

  I breathed, and from my maw came an ocean of flame, an old flame that once devastated their entire cities, that sent the pathetic humans fleeing like the prey they were. But even as I turned the plateau glowing red with fire; they stood firm against it. I was no longer the greater hunter but now only prey.

  ~

  I am broken, shattered; these humans, like the rest, will not burn. They use accursed tools and low magic to terrifying effect. My wing is destroyed. No longer will it touch the sky. No, I shall not flee. If I am to be the last, let these final moments be filled with fire and rage. If I can kill even one, I will call it a great victory.

  ~

  Yes, glorious blood; one finally dies to teeth and claw, now the one who disturbs. My last breath shall be spent killing that worm; let it be the sacrifice upon which I cleanse the sin of shame that befell my great people.

  ~

  Run, little worm. I will have you. I will avenge myself, cleanse myself of this shame, and then burn your kind's kingdoms to the ground and scatter your species like ash in the wind. Then the pain will finally end, and I will be…

  ’

  I jolted awake; the unmitigated rage, despair, and hatred for humanity and magi momentarily overwhelmed the agony burning my abdomen. It was late evening, almost sunset, and my mind was immediately flung back to my first day in Greystone and the dreams I could only now remember.

  They were clearly from the odd magical cat. Now I saw the memories of the dragon: the fight, its pain, despair, and anger. There was only a single common factor between them, and that was the consumption of its flesh. I ate most of the cat and unintentionally drank a mouthful of the dragon's blood. Unlike with the cat, the memories did not fade upon waking; the thoughts and feelings were still as clear as if I had personally experienced them.

  I didn't know what it meant, nor was anyone there to ask. But what I did feel was the awesome power the dragon could wield, and of course, the feeling of flight. It was certainly odd chasing myself through the forest, and that final moment before death was chilling. There was existence, then nothing.

  There were still so many mysteries of magic that, if I did not find a way out of this situation, I would never know.

  I tried to stand, reinforcing my will with the animus. The act caused me to vomit up what was in my stomach, which was little more than bile. The pain was so severe that my animus broke, and I collapsed back against the tree.

  After three attempts, all ending in failure, treacherous thoughts started to enter my mind. The dagger was at my waist, an easy death, not long and drawn-out suffering. I pushed away the thought, and, screaming in agony, bolstered my will with the animus and got to my feet.

  My breathing was little more than sharp gasps; my vision swirled, but I held on just barely. I didn't have a plan; I just oriented myself east and kept walking. The sun had set now, and I had only the moon and stars to guide me.

  Each step was difficult; each one sapped just a bit of my strength; every footfall brought me closer to my death. There was no plan anymore, just a task for me to focus on. There was an odd white glow off in the distance. Strange white glows were certainly something I should avoid in this forest, but my mind was long gone at this point.

  I followed it through the trees for a few minutes until I reached a wide clearing.

  “I have to be losing my mind,” I muttered as I saw what was making the light.

  I stared at it, mouth agape. A unicorn… I couldn't believe it; its mane was pale white and slightly glowing. In the middle of its forehead was a foot-long spiraling horn that reflected the moonlight as if it were made of glass.

  I stepped on a loose twig, alerting the creature. Its ears twitched, and it focused on me. It pawed at the ground, lifting its head. I have had enough horse training to know that it was planning to charge me. Gored by a unicorn was certainly not how I thought I would die. Its nose twitched, and it shook its head. Then, it quickly turned north and sprinted off into the forest. It was mildly disconcerting that I couldn't hear hoof falls.

  ‘Was that real? Or am I losing my mind from the pain?’

  I didn't even make three steps before I collapsed. A tree was nearby, so at least I didn't fall on my wound. Once again, my animus broke, and so did my will to stand.

  ~

  Somehow, I fell asleep again, a welcome relief from the pain. Again, I relived the fight with the dragon. The memories were clear and precise, though whatever instinctual magic it used was beyond my comprehension; it was as if it willed the fire into existence. My only guess as to its clarity was the massive difference in power compared to the cat.

  Unfortunately, I woke again to a world of pain and a body drenched in sweat. Every pulse of my heart sent ripples of agony through my head.

  I closed my eyes, slumped against the tree, trying to fall asleep again. To run from the pain. Slowly, I started to drift back into sleep.

  “Wake up, coward.” An angry voice said to me. My eyes flew open to see a young Edith staring down at me, her face filled with disgust. The same cheap canvas and string shoes, hair short and poorly done, looking as if it was cut with a rusty spoon, as Sim would say.

  ‘I am losing it, it seems.’

  “To think your will is so easily broken.” Another voice said, this one older, lacking emotion. A shadow of myself from probably a year ago, wearing all-black clothes: a corset and tight, form-fitting pants. I looked rather nice; it was a shame I hadn't had a chance to dress like that in some time. Even her hair was perfect, raven locks flowing beautifully.

  Even knowing the two were a figment of my imagination, no doubt due to the spreading corruption, I had to ask.

  “And what do you think I should do… Hm.” I looked to the two of them. “I’m in the middle of nowhere, gutshot and dying from corruption. My life is at an end.”

  “Your mind is still intact, yet you refuse to use it. Giving in to pain and despair.” A third voice added, this one slightly sympathetic. A third figure stood in front of me. A young Myr was standing there in the black maid uniform, looking rather fetching and eerie with her pale skin and shadowed eyes.

  “And what is left for me? For all my magic, I cannot heal this.” I asked.

  “And what does that matter?” The young Edith screamed at me. “I ain’t risk everythin’ for you to curl up and die like a dog.” She started pacing, clearly holding back anger.

  The Myr in fine clothes stared at me; her eyes were black pools, lacking humanity. “And I didn’t murder Surian, Elis, men, women, and children for you to throw it all away. Do you remember their faces, Myr? The bandit boy, the girl who killed because you feared the mirror looking back at you.” Myr stared at me with such cold indifference.

  The Myr in the maid uniform spoke, neither angry nor apathetic, “Many of those killings were necessary; some weren’t, but you did it anyway. All sacrifices upon the altar of power. Yet at the apex of your glory, you crumble because death is near.”

  I rolled my eyes, annoyed at myself. “Death isn’t just near; it’s guaranteed.”

  “And?” The young Edith screamed at me. “That don’t change nothin’. Find a way out. We done it before.”

  The Myr in fine clothes stared at me still without any form of emotion. “Why do you believe you are allowed the privilege of death? You think your pain and suffering matters? The only thing that matters is further power.”

  She took a step forward and squatted in front of me, capturing me in those black pools. “You do not stop…not in life, not in death, not even after death. You are the one who chose to walk this path. Quit your pathetic whining and think.”

  ‘Being lectured by myself is certainly a sobering experience, but those eyes… Were those really what others saw as I killed them?’

  I nodded. “Alright, first question then. How do we survive?” I mumbled to myself.

  The maid, Myr, nodded, pleased; young Edith was still a ball of anger and resentment. While Magus Myr didn't move in the slightest, though none of them answered.

  ‘I don’t know what manner of hallucination this is, but I think they’re right. Think, Myr.’

  “I cannot turn back; I can’t reach any civilization. Even then, I wouldn't survive. There is no magic, I know of, that can heal this.”

  Edith scoffed, “You ain’t the only one with magic in the world.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “I suppose. There are the dryads.” I tapped a finger against the ground. “Is that even possible?”

  Maid Myr’s brow furrowed. “They did kill over 100,000 people, but after that, the fighting ended, there were no reprisals, and for centuries, there was peace. They only ever attacked once provoked. They are thousands of years old with magic we no doubt could never understand.”

  I nodded along as she spoke, “Alright then, they say they live in the center of the forest. That’s a week’s journey, maybe more.”

  Edith laughed and pointed at me. “She ain’t makin’ it in that state. I’m bettin’ she got a few days at best.”

  I nodded at her. “That is the problem; the reality is these wounds will prevent me from making it too far.”

  Magus Myr finally spoke, “We know that reality is only what the mind accepts.”

  Immediately, I knew what she meant: “The dual binding and the pear.” I said excitedly.

  “Exactly,” Magus Myr said, and I continued. “If I convince myself I’m not injured, then my mind will create the illusion to match it.”

  “It will require significant mental effort, but this is your only chance.” Maid Myr said.

  “Good, now we’ve got a plan,” Edith said. She caught me with her angry eyes. “Now get your arse up, do the trick with the animus, and start walkin’.”

  I took a deep breath and closed my eyes once again, activating my animus. I slipped my mind into that near-insane belief state needed for a dual binding, and instead tried to hold the belief that I was completely uninjured. It was a slippery thing; the constant pain kept breaking the illusion. But the words of my shadow echoed in my mind.

  "I will not stop, not in life, not in death, not even after death.’

  Battering my mind over and over with the lie, I forced myself to believe, with complete certainty, that I was never injured, that the bolt missed, and that the current pain in my abdomen was false. My nose started bleeding as I pushed my animus to the absolute limit.

  I didn't know how long I sat there; it could have been an hour or a day. The only thing that mattered was accomplishing this feat. Tears rolled down my face; it took a few seconds for me to realize it was blood. I could practically feel my animus fighting against reality, almost mirroring the feeling of enchanting.

  But with all three shadows watching, waiting, and expecting me to succeed, I refused to fail.

  “Keep moving forward, always forward. Now stand and walk.” All three voices ordered. The pain faded to nothing, and I stood. By the time I got to my feet, they were gone, and I was alone. My hands and legs were twitching oddly, but other than that, I felt fine. Orienting myself northeast, I walked towards the center of the forest.