The crowd of guardsmen around, collectively holding their breath during Stella’s attack, anxiously awaited what would happen next. Will Grey, the underdog, get up, or will this be a win for her? None of them knew what Stella did, though. Not yet.

 

• You have defeated [Korra’leigh Grey - Deviant of Humanity: lvl 122]

 

That was the notification she got, a system message that meant only one thing: the first human Guardian of the World Tree was dead, and she was the one to blame. The reality of it didn’t fully dawn on her at first, and she just stared at the kneeling woman for long moments.

“Palemoon?” Captain Rayden asked, picking up that something was wrong.

Brought back to her senses by Rayden’s voice, Stella yelled regardless of Captain: “H-healers!” There was still hope healers could bring Grey back. Her teachers told her it was possible in some cases when they were quick with the healing. 

The system was not perfect and detected the moment the body gave up and stopped working. That didn’t mean the healers couldn’t get it working again before death actually settled in. With skills and stats people had a much tighter grip on their lives than those without, and the higher the levels, the tighter the grip became.

Grey was a fucking level 122 Deviant of Humanity, whatever that meant, so...

Her heated heart clenched in fright as the spirit of the Esulmor World Tree popped up by her now-dead Guardian even before the healers managed to rush in. It was the first time Stella had seen it so closely, the ethereal being with the body of a bear, a large tail, wings, and the upper half of a woman’s body. Idleaf, was her name, as she managed to recall Grey telling her.

“Korra’leigh?” spoke the spirit, kneeling to her Guardian. The immeasurable concern in her voice - that’s what it sounded like to Stella - cut deep into her heart.

But the panic only really settled in when it hit her; when she realized that there had to be some connection between the two; that the spirit knew. Idleaf knew what Stella had done, that Grey was dead. The implications of her blind actions began to swirl through her mind. The wrath of the Esulmor World Tree could fall on the entire city because of her misstep because she couldn’t keep her emotions in check once again. Humanity’s relationship with the World Tree, quite possibly with all of them, was forever tarnished because of something as small as her pride.

Stella let go of the sword, the blade of which was still gripped by Deckard, and threw herself on her knees before the spirit.

“Great World Tree, please...take your anger out on me, just me, it’s me who...who...” The words caught in her throat as the realization that she had taken human life for the first time settled fully upon her. In her training, countless beasts had lost their lives under her blades, but no life of those she practiced with.

“What the fuck are you doing, Palemoon? Don’t tell me...” Captain Rayden asked and paused, her attention turning fully to Grey. 

Stella was sure it wouldn’t be long before Captain would know her fuck-up too. As much as it tore at her heart, she was more likely to expect a blade at her throat instead of praise. Unable to utter a word or look into the eyes of the woman she looked up to and failed, she just lowered her head, tried to hold back the tears, and pleaded to the spirit again. “Please, I didn’t mean it... it was just me...”

“Damn, girl. Did you...” Deckard, standing behind her, said as Captain Rayden caught on and put up a silencing barrier around them. But it was Marcus, the best healer among the city guards, already kneeling by Grey’s corpse, who said the rest, the horrible truth: “The lass is dead.”

He wasn’t loud, yet it sounded like a crushing roar in her ears. Now everyone knew what they suspected, and hearing the healer, even her hopes seemed to crumble. The dream of becoming a master guard melted away before her eyes, forever etched in everyone’s minds as a killer of Guardian.

Paying with her life didn’t seem so bad now. “Please...just me...Idleaf.” Speaking the spirit’s name was daring after what she had done, but Stella had no idea how else to draw her attention and ire to herself. And it worked; the spirit looked upon her.

Anger, rage, fury, none of it was in her eyes. Instead, what Stella found in them was confusion, and in truth, she wasn’t all that surprised. No one expected her to go this far when she let her temper take control of her. Not even herself, and this was not the first time this had happened to her. Many times she got carried away by her emotions. One of her failings, a shortfall that was the cause of many arguments, especially with her mother. Yet, this time, she couldn’t just slam the door and walk away over this.

“I’m so sorry...I didn’t mean....I didn’t mean to kill her...please... I am the one to blame...”

“No one’s blaming you,” said the spirit, confusion still in her eyes, only now Stella was confused too. Didn’t she blame her? Wasn’t she furious with her? Why? Was that the worth that the Guardians had for the World Trees? If so, that was...fucking sad, but Stella couldn’t find the right in herself to fault her for that. She herself was looking down on Squad Four; she took them for someone beneath her. 

“Ah, you’re worried about Korra’leigh,” the spirit realized as she followed Stella’s gaze. “Don’t worry. She’s going to be okay, right Marcus?”

The familiar way the spirit spoke to the City Guards Chief Healer, Lieutenant, was odd, to say the least. The way he agreed with her was even more disturbing, though. Almost as if death was no big deal to him. Was he that good? Or on his way to becoming a necromancer? Stella had read in the old records her teachers forced her to study that they were mostly healers, good healers, before they went down the wrong path.

Still, she hoped he had the ability to bring Grey back.

“Marcus?”

Chief Healer raised his head when Captain Rayden asked him. “I know, I know. I shouldn’t be here.”

“True, I don’t remember seeing you on the healer schedule for the training grounds. But seriously, what does it look like? Is she really dead?”

“Well...” he trailed off, his hands never leaving Grey’s body, checking on her condition, hopefully healing her. After the first check, he laid her on the ground, and now she looked like she was just sleeping. “Technically, yes. From what I can tell, mana burnout. Darius, Helen. Check out the other lass.” Marcus shouted to the healers who, like him, had rushed to the aid of the wounded but stopped when Captain Rayden and Deckard appeared. Whether it was luck or Captain’s intent that they were in the sphere of silencing barrier was beyond what Stella was now capable of dealing with. However, when they rushed to her, she found their presence at her side strangely comforting. At least someone cared about her.

“Don’t give me that bullshit. Mana burned out will incapacitate you, not kill you.”

Marcus was unfazed by Rayden’s harsh words and just shrugged. “Sure, if you know what you’re doing. This idiot, sorry Idleaf, let almost all of her mana run through her brain...and heart, it seems. The lass basically fried both of those.”

“Fine. And? Can you put her back together?”

Captain Rayden took the question out of Stella’s lips. Hearing the Chief Healer’s Grey’s diagnosis, she gulped, dread flooding her body. For all she knew, fixing a brain was one of the hardest things to do. One of the reasons the mind mages gave the Empire such a hard time, not every healer was able to do that. She had no doubt that Marcus, being on the same battlefield as Captain, knew how to handle it. Still, she couldn’t help regretting Lord Wigram’s departure from Castiana. If only he’d stayed a few days longer....if only she hadn’t been such a dick head easily swayed by her emotions...if, if, if.

“I could, but...”

“Why won’t you!” The words flew out of her mouth without her meaning to, coming out more damning than she’d ever dared to say to the man, to her superior. But there were no regrets in her heart. After all, the fate of the city, her fate, depended on him fixing what she messed up, putting Grey back together.

The man just smirked at her, unfazed by her outburst. “Because there’s no need. Unlike last time, the lass didn’t burn all her mana and has much better mana regeneration.”

“L-last time?” Stella stammered, not understanding what Chief Healer meant.

“This isn’t the first time the lass has died. It’s just a matter of time, but she is already pulling herself together. It would be great if she had more mana, though.”

His last line was directed at Idleaf, asking whether she could send some to her Guardian. Their connection would suggest that she might, a glimmer of hope that was quickly snuffed out by Idleaf’s downcast expression. The spirit even dropped its wings in dismay. “Not here. We’re too far away from me.”

“Couldn’t you move her to your side?” Deckard suggested, and Idleaf immediately brightened up, her lightheartedness back. 

“I could. Should I? I’m sure Esudein would love to see her.”

“Let’s not be hasty,” Marcus spoke to stop her. “I was just asking. It would just make things easier for the lass. Ah, speaking of which...”

Even before he finished, Grey twitched, arching her back and gasping for air frantically. Then, as Stella held her breath, trying to make sense of what was happening in front of her, Grey sank back to the ground, her breaths erratic and heavy, but there. A few tense moments later, the so-far dead woman, her squadmate, opened her eyes and looked around. “W-what the f...what did I miss, guys?”

Deckard heartily chuckled. “Not so much, just a bit of drama, Little Beast.”

How he managed to laugh at such a moment, Stella couldn’t understand. Actually, that wasn’t the only thing. ‘How? How could she be alive?’ That kind of regeneration didn’t make sense for someone like her. She doubted even Deckard’s body could do such a thing. So, how?

“How are you feeling, lass?” 

“M-Marcus?” Grey spoke, her voice weak and coarse, confusion in her eyes. Then, as the thought flashed through them, her face contorted in agony. “Not s-so good. In too d-damn much p-pain. I’ll live, t-though.” 

Hearing that, those last words, struck Stella so hard that all her strength left her. If she were still standing, her legs would buckle. If she hadn’t been in the presence of others, she would have wept her heart out. But kneeling already, she just sat her ass in the sand as relief washed over her with more might than her aura ever had, tears streaming down her face while she silently stared at her squadmate, trying to fathom her. 

 

***

 

That I would live, I was sure about; not sure how much I wanted to.

Seriously, every thought made me feel like my brain was going to explode, every breath I took hurt like a bitch, and I didn’t dare move at all, as nearly every bit of my exposed skin was burnt black. Sure, that was an exaggeration. There were places that were untouched by the torrent of aura, like my back. The fact didn’t make it any easier, though.

The burns went deep, deeper than just my skin, into the layers underneath, the muscles, some even touching my organs. 

And the areas protected by armor didn’t fare any better. While not directly burned, the way the enchantments and runes on leather armor heated up under the onslaught of the aura made me feel like I was stuck in a fucking oven, being roasted alive at the well-done setting. An interesting experience, for sure. Yet, I never had the urge to try what it was like to be a Christmas turkey.

It hurt; it hurt like hell.

“D…” the words got stuck in my throat and I had to clear it. “Do you have morphine, Marcus? Any painkiller w-would do.” So hard, it was so hard just to get out just a few words, let alone think about whether or not what I said made sense or revealed too much.

The healer chuckled. “Morp-what? Whatever. Regretting that you have no pain-reducing skill?”

‘Fuck yes!’ It was something I regretted all the time. “Please.”

“Before I give you that, drink this first...” a bottle of blue liquid appeared in the hands of the handsome man kneeling over me. “Mana potion. You’ve burned almost all your mana.”

“And?” Seriously, what was his point? Or perhaps it was that obvious, and my sluggish brain just failed to process it. Wait! Wait! Wait! Don’t tell me I did it again, that I was locked in a vicious cycle of regeneration and death, that the excruciating pain I felt was caused by my body eating me alive. But it shouldn’t be, I wasn’t hungry, I made sure the shifting didn’t eat up all my stores. Plus, and it was a big plus, it wasn’t really related to mana at all, so...argh, damn pain!

“You still with me, lass?” asked Marcus, the look of concern on his face, the mana potion still in his hand. “You blacked out for a moment.”

Was he serious? It looked like he was.

My eyes fell on the mana potion, and some circuit in my brain made the connection. [Heart of Magic] skill that came with my heart and gave me an extraordinary boost to magic, making me a magic creature unable to survive - long term - without mana. Was that why he wanted me to drink the potion, why I was in so much pain, then? But I still felt some, a wee bit, but some, I wasn’t completely mana dry. Plus, when I stripped Sage of mana countless times before - for safety reasons - it took a while before I started to feel the dull pain of mana deprivation, so...so...

“Damn, lass. Again. Listen and don’t fight me. You have little to no mana in your body, and your monstrous regeneration is devouring what little of it you regenerate. So, this is the best solution. Drink!”

I could argue that he could have just healed me, but by this point, I knew that healers, the good ones, preferred the natural regeneration of the body. Plus, it was hard to protest when someone shoved the neck of a bottle into your mouth and poured the contents down your throat.

Did he say I fought him? When? Ouch! ‘Fuck you, brain!’

“Don’t try to control things, lass. You’d only be taxing your already strained brain. Let your body deal with the mana potion on its own; the same with your regeneration. Just try to hang in there.” 

Regardless of how much I disliked his advice, wanting to put my brain in order first, followed by my lungs, I found his voice strangely soothing and hard to resist.

“And m-my painkillers?”

“You’re one persistent lass, aren’t you?”

“It hurts like…like a bitch.”

“I have no doubt. Your body is telling your brain what’s wrong with it, and there’s a lot.” Was that really Marcus I was looking at? Not just some delusional fantasy of my damaged brain? Because it seemed like he wanted me to be in pain and suffering. What a healer!

“Okay, how about this,” Marcus said, and I felt his mana flowing into my body, numbing my pain. “A pain dulling potion would do you more harm than good right now, but this shouldn’t mess with your regeneration too much.”

It did. The pain didn’t go away completely. However, it kept me from darn near pissing my shorts whenever I took a breath or moved.

“Thanks,” I breathed out in a whisper, kind of relieved, finally finding the strength to take a good look around.

There were more people there than I remembered. I mean, I only fought one, Palemoon. Right? On the other hand, no wonder there. I fucked up, I fucked up a big time, basically killing myself, again.

 

• You died.

 

That simple system notification spoke volumes, explaining the looks of those standing around me. Well, the Palemoon’s look. The bitch was wrecked, tears streaming down her cheek, no wailing, just relief in her eyes mixed with utter disbelief. The rest of the guys standing around or kneeling trying to heal, weren’t as surprised by my coming back from the dead. As I said, not the first time.

Rayden held her composure, keeping an eye on the situation to make sure it didn’t get out of hand rather than on me. Deckard was...Deckard. Laid back, taking it in stride, more amused than concerned - at least on the surface - with one hand in his pocket, fiddling with Palemoon’s sword in the other.

The funniest one was Idleaf, though. The spirit was dancing among them, singing, “You see, you see, I told you. Korra’leigh will be fine.” Whatever it was about, I had no idea, but her voice was full of joy. Good to see because, with my luck, it wouldn’t be weird if someone connected my death with Palemoon - which in fact wouldn’t be wrong - and humans in general. As a result, that could mean mossbear and eagles in the city, regardless of the protection of the Labyrinth.

“Yes, you did; you were right,” Deckard said, a little amused and annoyed at the same time by Idleaf’s antics. He, too, learned how to deal with her, knowing that a little praise made her day. As his gaze traveled down to me, it was only then that I realized how high he towered over me, that I was actually lying on the ground. “Damn good fight, Little Beast. A little reckless, but I liked the way you threw your heart into it. Both of you.”

Palemoon stirred at his words, looking up from the hand treated by the healer as if she didn’t expect to be praised for her victory. It was so damn strange to see that arrogant bitch so crushed, with a sad smile on her lips. I didn’t know whether to laugh with joy and satisfaction - which, despite the trick Marcus had done, would have been very painful - or to sympathize with her. But truth be told, Palemoon was giving me a familiar vibe, someone who fucked up big time and was damn aware of it.

“A little reckless?” Rayden marveled at Deckard’s assessment of our performance. “Sheer lack of judgment, I’d say. They both seem to be short on understanding their powers. With Grey I could understand, but Palemoon...” There was disappointment in her eyes. Rayden obviously expected much more from our new squad leader.

However, that was all she managed to say before Marcus stepped in. “Your bickering can wait; these two need to get to the infirmary.” He motioned to the other healers. 

In no time, I was on the stretcher and on my way out of the training grounds. Honestly, I had to have fried my brain really good because not only did my memory seem to be slipping from time to time, but the one carrying my stretcher seemed to be Idleaf, enjoying the new experience, the new adventure. She looked funny, swaying excitedly from side to side, yet if what I saw was true, and Idleaf was the one at my feet, humming a song, she was surprisingly gentle with the stretcher. So gentle, in fact, that the slight rocking and humming put me to sleep.