Dharen felt the surge of energy release from his body, coalescing into the air as wisps of light that evaporated from his skin. As the sudden strength left him, he fell to his knees. The multitude of injuries that he had sustained washed over him, threatening his consciousness once more.

Yet this time, he allowed unconsciousness to come gladly. The enemy had been defeated; his struggle was over, for the moment. Without the bolstering effect of adrenaline flowing through his veins, his strength had wisped away to nothingness. Blackness flooded his vision, and he greeted it gratefully.

⥫⥬⥫⥬⥫⥬

He awoke to a gentle jostling, a hesitant tapping upon his shoulder. “We need to get back to the teleporter,” a feminine voice prodded gently. Sensing the urgency in Serah’s tone, Dharen rose to his feet. Around him waited the others. Serah was by his side, rising to her feet along with him. Erik gingerly nursed a disfigured arm, grinning exultantly despite the pain reflected in his eyes. Ozen, most surprisingly of all, stood unsteadily with a blood-soaked bandage held to his head. The injury was not the surprising part - it would have been more surprising had the group not sported a plethora of wounds. What was surprising was the transformation that the surly man had undergone; for the first time, Dharen glimpsed a smile that found its way to his eyes. And even more startling were the tears of relief that poured from those joyful orbs. For they had won. Their leader would be saved.

The beleaguered, yet victorious group slowly made its way back to the teleporter from which they had entered. They strolled past the remnants of the Orbel horde, that colossal heap of automatons - now reduced to simple scrap metal, with no sign of the imposing ferocity that the automatons had once held. Finally, they found their way back.

With an exuberant air, they activated the teleporter’s magic, causing the circle to release an effervescent light. With a flash, they were returned to the city square. Night had descended, and the plaza had all but cleared out with the last of the light. Now, only a few stragglers remained, those who, like them, were returning from their last mission of the day. As Dharen gazed about, he found that even the noticeboard had been cleared, leaving a blank board upon which tasks could be placed anew on the morn.

He followed as the other members of the group strode purposefully towards the remaining construct that manned the rewards desk. Upon handing in their completed quest, they received a large number of vouchers.

Dharen received his portion with a weary smile of thanks. The others were significantly more animated, with Serah receiving the group’s portion of the spoils. Ozen clapped Erik on the back, causing the man to let out a moan of pain as his arm was jostled.

“Well, looks like this is it for now,” Serah said. “We’re off to the healers. I’ll get these two fixed up, and then we’ll be on our way to save Tomas.”

Dharen nodded in acknowledgement. He understood their need to move quickly; it would be quintessence of tragedy if Tomas were to pass away before they reached him with antidote in hand.

Erik clasped his hand firmly with his uninjured arm, giving a brief word of thanks as he did so. Then, Dharen felt a rough slap upon his as Ozen boisterously displayed his own gratitude before slipping into a solemn expression.

“Please, if there ever comes a time when you need aid… We will be there for you, just as you were for us. We may have lost a fine friend this night, were it not for your aid. That is not a debt that I, nor any of us, take lightly,” Ozen intoned.

Dharen left them with his own well-wishes, waving them goodbye and sending them on their way. He walked through the paved streets, searching for an inn for the night. As he did so, he thought over the events of the day - from the spoils he had received in the Beginner Pits, to the harrowing fight that had been hunting down the Orbel Knight Keljier. Reminded by the thought, he brought his most recently-acquired Contribution Vouchers to hand. Reasoning that there was no sense in waiting, he quickly ripped the stack of vouchers in twain. From the torn edges, a form of energy wisped outwards. Dharen pulled the energy into himself, absorbing it with ease.

He smiled upon seeing the large stockpile of points that he had managed to gather so far. Though he did not know the worth of the points should he wish to exchange them for items, he was at least assured that he would not be worried about the daily contribution taxes for the near future.

Finally, he spotted a place that looked promising. Though he had already passed a number of inns, none of them were quite what he had been looking for. He had a certain criteria when it came to choosing a place to lay his head; it couldn’t be too nice, as that would be wasteful - regardless of how well off he might currently be, he was never one that would be able to justify becoming a spendthrift on unnecessary luxuries. On the other hand, he was quite averse to the possibility of getting stabbed in his sleep, eliminating a number of the establishments that had been seedier in appearance.

Instead, he settled on a happy medium. He found himself at an inn that wasn’t overly nice, but had the sort of atmosphere that promised a hearty meal and a serviceable bed - all at an affordable price.

He pushed his way into the building, the heavy door’s hinges creaking slightly as he did so. The room was lit dimly, with a smattering of sturdy wooden tables and chairs spread across the room. Though the inn certainly wasn’t packed to the brim, there was a sizable number of patrons enjoying the taste of good stew and strong ale following the day’s hard work.

He slipped around a seated group of particularly boisterous individuals, celebrating some sort of accomplishment or something of that nature. He wasn’t able to parse apart the details, what with the heavy slurring that each was afflicted with in their drunken state.

His attention was drawn to a golem that stood behind a counter. He couldn’t help but be somewhat bemused. It seemed that the information he had been given by the golem earlier in the day had been accurate - golems served as the workers of the city.

He approached the bar, giving his greetings to the golem. In the end, room and board for the night came out to 100 Contribution Points. Taking a seat, he found that he was horrifically ravenous. Based on his understanding, his currently inflated appetite was an effect of his increased Vitality. Though he could take more damage and heal faster than most, the energy for the accelerated healing had to be taken from somewhere. Thus, his current state, as he found himself staring with glazed eyes and drooling lips the nearby patrons’ stew.

A barmaid arrived with his own stew, this one human rather than golem. Though this brought him a modicum of confusion, he was too drawn in by the savory aroma of the stew to question it. In an instant, the stew had disappeared down his gullet. The woman looked at him in shock, whether from the speed at which he downed the food or his complete and utter disregard for the heat, he did not know.

“Could I trouble you for another, please?” He gave the barmaid an ingratiating smile.

“Of c-c-ou-course…” the woman managed to stutter out. Another patron called for her attention, and she rushed off to aid him. “It will be just a moment!” she called back to Dharen over her shoulder.

Later, Dharen waddled his way up the stairs, his stomach filled to bursting. Energy requirements finally sated, he was already feeling markedly better than he had just an hour before. His high Vitality had kicked into overdrive and was working to transfer the food intake into energy and was healing his injuries at a rapid pace.

He made his way into his room, locking it behind him. Spotting the bed, he sat down on its side. Curious on his current state following the most recent changes, he willed his mind to take an account on the status of his being. As he cycled through the information, he metally stumbled upon noticing something that had unexpectedly changed - the effects of the previously unreadable “Progenitor’s Blessing: Senses of The Faceless One” had been revealed.

With a wave of revulsion and horror, Dharen remembered the script that he had been easily able to decipher, the one that left the others completely at a loss. More importantly, he remembered the moment that he first entered the room - the heavy cloud of dust on which he had briefly choked. The dust which he had been unable to expel entirely. The dust which he had swallowed. The dust which, apparently, had not been dust at all - but was more likely one of the Del’s pulverized bones that had been ground to dust.

Dharen felt his gorge rising, and held back an urge to expel his dinner.