When I came back from the dreamland, I was in the infirmary. No surprise there. A quick glance at the system clock told me I had snoozed for less than two hours. Not bad, considering the daze, pressure, and pain in my head were gone in such a relatively short time. Even better, I was breathing fine, and my heart seemed to be back to normal, too. All in all, my regeneration appeared to have been hard at work while I took a nap.

 

• [Never-Dying] reaches lvl 60
• [Never-Dying] reaches TIER IV
• [Never-Dying] reaches lvl 61
• [Never-Dying] reaches lvl 62
• [Never-Dying] reaches lvl 63

 

Hell of a lot of levels for a snooze. And finally, the tier-up of the skill, which in my book, given the injuries I've already suffered through here on Eleaden, was long overdue. The way I saw it, [Never-Dying] should be at level one hundred and up. Sadly, the system saw it differently. Either I suffered too little, or - and this was more likely - it was due to the 'tier' of the skill itself being higher than your run-of-the-mill regeneration boosting ones.

Either way, I was dying to find out what the new tier brought me, yet I couldn't help but have a small gripe before I even took a peek as it certainly wasn't the pain suppression I was secretly hoping for. My skin was still sore, unhealed, and whatever Marcus did to my pain perception was long gone. I dared say my regeneration was still lacking; that my recovery still took too long, or better yet, that I woke up too early - thinking about it, most likely because of said pain.

Wings! 

I didn't even mention these feathered limbs of my yet. There were still holes in both of them. At least, that's what my domain told me. To make sure and see with my own eyes, I lifted one wing and looked at the hole, its edges still seared, hardly any sign of healing. Guess because it was last on the list of priorities for my body. To be fair, most of the damage was taken by feathers, not by the muscles and bones of the wings. Looking back, putting them in the path of that bitch's attack was a bloody stupid idea.

"Hi, Grey. You had a good nap?" It was Palemoon who asked me that. The bitch was looking at me from the other side of the hole in my wing, nervous, biting her lower lip. Another hallucination, for sure.

Yet when I put my wing down, she was still there, lying on the bed next to me, a strange, sorrowful smile on her face. 

I didn't even have to look around the infirmary much to know that there were plenty of other beds available. How anyone could have had the bright idea to put us next to each other was beyond me. What a bad joke. Did they think I'd be glad; that we'd reconcile here or something? Shake hands and sing songs together? Was it her idea? Her request? Ridiculous.

On second thought, it was logical that the healers didn't want to run between patients all over the room. Not that the realization made the situation any easier. At that moment, I wished I wasn't here and considered telling Idleaf to move me to the heart of Esulmor. 

Where was the rascal anyway? Not here, for sure. She was really hard to miss. In Esulmor? Should I give her a call?

Seriously, it would be like hitting two birds with one stone. I wouldn't have to deal with Palemoon, and Esudein or one of the mothers would take care of my injuries in a few breaths. That was the easy way out, though. One that I would take nothing useful away from, neither learn a life lesson nor get any levels. And worse, I'd show weakness in front of Esudein, an ancient beast who challenged me to prove to him that I was worthy of being his pup. That said, running up to him, licking my wounds, while I had a few surviving remnants of moss in my hair, wasn't very impressive.

Yeah, the moss survived the onslaught of aura and cold, but just barely. So, no! I couldn't show up in front of Esudein like this. Definitely not before I manage to return the moss, his gift to me, to its former mossy glory. That would be like shooting myself in my own foot.

Thus, with the easy way out of the question, I took a breath and looked at Palemoon, my killer - well, technically, I killed myself, wondering what to even say, how to start. Should I start yelling at her about what the fuck she was thinking? Haven't we agreed on a line not to cross? That was fucking why I didn't go for her throat but hand - in retrospect, damn mistake. 

I was in too much pain to argue, though. So, did I have a good nap? "Yeah, it wasn't bad; I just wish it was a little longer."

The bitch chuckled and snorted, shaking her head in disbelief. "You're unbelievable Grey. Few people would think that the kind of injuries you had would go away while they're taking a nap."

Still the same bitch. "You know nothing about me." I growled back.

"True..." Much to my surprise, she nodded, her shoulders drooping slightly. "Sorry, I didn't mean it in the wrong way."

"It sure sounded that way." What was going on? Was she really trying to apologize? Maybe I was still out of it, deep in the dreamland, and this was just another twisted nightmare. Otherwise, I couldn't explain why I would dream of Palemoon.

 “Are you sorry you... pushed me to death?” In my mind, it was a perfectly valid question. An apology would be in order.

Strangely enough though, I wasn't as upset about it as I probably should have been. I guess I would be if she actually succeeded - to kill me permanently -  but since death was no stranger to me...I just couldn't find it in myself to be pissed at her about it. What rubbed me the wrong way was her attitude, though.

Palemoon visibly paled, her hands trembling - for a moment, at least, before a myriad of auras covered her body. "I know I fucked up. I fucked up big time, Grey.”

“Yeah, you sure did. If…”

"You don't understand. I could have doomed the whole city.”

‘What the fuck the bitch was yapping about?’

"I was ready to give up my life…”

“What? Why?”

"Are you mocking me?” she snapped only to shake her head, devastated. "Whatever, be my guest. Everyone in the barracks already knows about me, about my fuck up, how I crawled at your spirit's feet, begging her…”

“Wait. You what?”

"I didn't want her to destroy Castiana in her anger, but what does it matter..."

Ah, Idleaf. I didn't think she would. On second thought…if I really died, it could devastate her. Hard to say what she'd do then.

"Good thing I didn't, huh? Died, I mean. Permanently."

Stella chuckled in utter disbelief. "You sure are something, Grey. I fucking killed you…”

“Well, technically speaking…”

“I fucking killed you! The system confirmed that. Yet here you are, as annoying as ever. Don't you realize what happened?”

"Are you yelling at me for being alive?”

The realization took her breath away. "No, sorry, that came out wrong.” She sighed, massaging the bridge of her nose. "Look, it's just...you just don't make sense."

Bloody brilliant apology. "You know how to flatter a gal." Was it so hard for her to say sorry?

"I wasn't trying to.... whatever. But seriously, you know that, right?"

"What? That I'm not making sense to you? You're not making sense. What the heck are you yapping about?" 

"About you. Or rather, what are you trying to be? A tank, a fighter, a shifter, a mage? I'm not even sure that what I saw is all of you." It wasn't.

"Your point?" What I thought was her trying to apologize quickly turned into pointing out my mistakes. Was I surprised? Not at all.

"You're spread too wide. It's better to stick to one role, two at most." 

Was she lecturing me? "That's my business. Besides, take a good look at yourself first before you start bullshitting someone."

"I know who I am. I'm an aura warrior. I focus on using weapons and auras, nothing more. You...you..."

"Me what?"

"That's the thing. I don't know. You tell me?" 

This was definitely not shit I wanted to deal with just after waking up in the infirmary. I had to give it to her, though. It was a good question. What exactly was Korra'leigh Grey trying to be? "I just want to become stronger. Not having to look over my shoulder for fear that somebody would be there to get me." Not sure why the hell I was telling her that. To shut her up, maybe?

Palemoon nodded. "I get that…"

"Do you?" I cut her off, not thinking that someone like her, a rich brat, could understand how someone like me, a former slave, might feel.

She bit her lip, perhaps realizing the same or just suppressing her hubris. "Look, I'm not trying to judge you...damn, that came out wrong, too," Palemoon growled under her breath, frustrated with herself. Actually, that little flare-up told me a little about her. I understood she struggled to express herself, especially to someone like me. "I'm just trying to understand you, Grey. I'm trying to understand how someone like you caught Deckard's eye and became his apprentice. How could someone like you become a Guardian? Why does a shifter like you have the skill of a barrier master and the mana capacity of a skilled mage? I'm trying to get my head around your ridiculous regeneration and make sense of how you can still be fucking alive." 

Damn, it was like the floodgates opened, and Palemoon started spewing everything she had on her mind at me. She wasn't crying; if anything, she seemed confused and angry, mainly angry. Whether it was at herself or me, I had no clue. So I guessed: "Are you pissed about our fight?"

"W-what?" There was genuine confusion on her face. 

"Our fight, your arm," I pointed to her bandaged right arm. "Sorry about that, by the way. I didn't see any other way to beat you - at that moment."

Palemoon laughed; the bitch actually laughed, heartily and without shame, only a hint of disbelief in her voice, saving her some grace. "Don't worry about the arm; that was fair. Well, fair as a duel can be. But that's it. That's what I'm talking about. You're not making sense. Anyone sane in your situation, with the odds you were up against, would be thinking about how to last the longest, how to save face. Not you, though. For some reason, you were thinking about how to beat me."

"I almost did." Not exactly a helpful remark in the situation, but I couldn't help myself.

Unwilling to put up with the provocation, Palemoon smirked. "You were close. I'll give you that. But that's only because of that weird shit you did with your presence. It was you, wasn't it?"

There was no reason to keep it from her. The rest of Squad Four knew about it, and whether I wanted to or not, she was part of it now. So, I nodded. "You held up well. I've seen people piss their pants." Meaning the rest of my…well, our squad.

"Shit! That was...was that actual presence or just some fear skill?"

"Presence." The part where I didn't have full control over it I didn't feel the need to explain, not yet. She was free to draw her own conclusions, for now.

As expected, Palemoon shook her head in disbelief. "See? You're not making fucking sense!"

"Excuses. Although I've been told I lack common sense." Rather, I was aware of it myself. There was still so much I didn't know - basic stuff that even the Eleaden kids knew.

"Not excuses, shortcomings. I should have seen it coming and above all, shouldn't have underestimated you, any of you. Captain Rayden already gave me a piece of her mind about what I did there not being squad leader-worthy. Actually, I gotta say, you're a pretty heavy sleeper. Her shouting must have been heard as far as the city walls," Palemoon admitted with a bit of shame. I couldn't say I felt sorry for her, on the contrary, I was sorry I slept through it. On second thought, I'd probably get some of that shit from Rayden if I were awake, too.

"Good that you finally see that."

"I do. I can see where I've made mistakes, but you? I still don't get you, why were you willing to go that far?"

"Why did you?" I know, stupid to answer a question with a question. Pointless, too; I was pretty sure I knew the answer. 

However, it was a question my infirmary bedmate took her time with. "Because I was bitter. Pissed that Captain Rayden assigned me to the junior guards, your squad."

Yeah, just like I thought. "Why didn't you say no to her when you hate it so much?"

"She offered me the position of SQUAD LEADER. If I said no, I might never be one again. And I really wanted to become one, just...."

"Just not the leader of Squad Four. Get it."

"Sorry," she muttered, aware of how that must have sounded.

"Do we really have such a bad reputation?" 

She gave me a you-really-want-to-know look, so I shot back with my own: you-betcha stare. "Well, it's not so much about your levels, the other junior squads are in no better position, but about your classes and attitude. Baker, Bookkeeper, Slave, and Mage is not exactly a combination that raises much confidence."

"Are the other squads so much better off?" I always had more important things to do than worry about the rest of the squads. Besides, Harper, Freyde, and Meneur never talked about them, so I figured there was hardly anything interesting about them.

"In terms of classes, yes. Some are [Warriors], [Hunters], [Archers], just people who wanted to see some action without having to deal with companies. Even someone like a [Brawler] who hung around taverns is better off than Breadbaker. Hell, even the [Butcher], and there is one among them, is better off. He knows his knives, the bodies of the beasts, all he has to learn is how to fight them."

"That's if he wants to be more than a regular street guardsman," I pointed out the fact that not all city guards were going to Fallen's Cry to train. In fact, Rayden gave that right to those who aspired to do more than walk the streets. Of course, if she had her way, she would send everyone there, but what effect that would have when not everyone was eager to face the beasts' claws was the question. For most, it would most likely be pointless. Worse, more men might leave the already short-staffed Castiana City Guards.

"True, but Captain Rayden was choosing those who wanted to be more than that for the junior squads. Her budget, even with the influence of the Imperial Chief Healer, is very limited..."

"Really? I thought Lord Wigram had talked the City Lord down."

Palemoon snorted. "Politics. My uncle has found a thousand excuses not to increase the budget. On the plus side, funding for repairing runes and enchantments on the city walls and throughout the city goes through the City Hall separately from the Castiana City Guards, and it's quite a lot." Was that public knowledge, or did she know because of who she was? Either way, she had a broad overview; I had to give her that. 

We got off-topic, though. "Okay, I get the shit about classes, but that motivation to be more than a regular guardsman is something everyone in Squad Four has. So what's wrong with us?"

"You're not exactly the best team players," Palemoon said bluntly and went on before I could say a word. "What I mean is, you're barely in the barracks, Ironhoof is too timid for others not to make fun of him, so he keeps to himself. Welkes, on the other hand, knows how to deal with people very well, but he's so tired of dealing with them that he prefers to keep a low profile, which makes others talk behind his back. Neither goes down well with Breadbaker, who is quite sensitive to insults, hence not so friendly."

It wasn't hard to imagine Harper going all bitchy at everyone. "I thought you hadn't read our files."

"I didn't. I just had time...and let’s say motivation to think about it more." I bet she was talking about Rayden giving her an earful. Anyway, whatever the case, it was good because having her as a leader otherwise would be a chore. "You're still our squad leader?"

"Somehow," she chuckled, sounding surprised by it herself. "You got a problem with that?"

"That depends," I said, looking straight into her eyes. "...whether you're going to be the same bitch you were on the training grounds or..."

"Look, Grey. I-I admit I went over the line there. I took my frustration out on you. I should never have done that. For that, I apologize." Not for killing me, huh?

"Oh, okay. I didn't expect that. But?" There was a but in her voice.

"None of you made it any easier for me."

Wow, that...actually, I didn't know what to say to that. Did she expect us to welcome her with open arms, listen to her every word, no questions asked, and just take the beating?

"Again, that came out wrong," she said, rubbing the bridge of her nose in frustration. "I just..."

"Well, let me make it easy for you. If you're going to boss us around, I don't think you'll fare well with any of us. You're supposed to lead our squad, and I understand that, but don't be a bitch about it."

She bit her lip, holding back her temper. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Ask the others yourself, but I used to be a slave and, believe it or not, a human. What you see is the result of what that bastard did to me."

"You mean," her eyes widened. "Your former master? He did this to you. I thought that your class..."

"No...I got that class because of what he did to me, and that I learned to live with it. I was nothing more than a test subject for him that he forced the [Slave] class on and expected to like him for what he did. So... don't be like him. Don't look down on others! I hate it!"

"I didn't..." Palemoon paused, realizing that what she was about to say was not true. "Again, sorry about that. But I'm expected to lead you."

"I know. Telling me what to do may not sit well with me and my beast pride, but it's something I can deal with. Just don't look down on me. I'm not a slave!"

"You certainly aren't." Not what I expected to hear from her, much less the seriousness with which she said it. In fact, I was taken aback. Unless my instincts were wrong, which I doubted, she truly didn't see me as a slave. Quite the opposite of her irritating uncle. That brought up the question, though, did our struggle leave such an impact on her? If so, good. If not...

"But then, what are you, Grey?" Ah, there's that again. I wasn't making sense to her. However, I couldn't blame her for trying - as my squad leader - to understand me, to place me, to know what role I should play in the squad.

"She's a Deviant, don't you see," said Becca, the healer I had the pleasure of meeting last time I was here, as she showed up at our beds. "Nice to see you again Korra, although I would have preferred it to be under different circumstances. How are you doing? Still in pain?"

What the hell should I answer first? "Hi. Yeah, in pain. Whatever Marcus did is gone."

"I thought so. Here." She handed me a vial of potion. "Drink this; it will dull your pain."

"Just dull it?" That was a disappointment I was unable to keep from seeping into my voice. My hope was to get something that would erase the pain completely. 

Becca just smiled. "Pain serves many purposes, one of them is to learn to avoid such an injury in the future."

"Yeah, I didn't exactly do this to myself on purpose, you know," I returned, looking at Palemoon.

"What? I said I went overboard and that I'm sorry."

She did. What's more, it wasn't just empty words. Her voice might hold a hint of haughtiness, but there was sincerity in it, too. I just hoped her newfound humility would last. Without another word, I took the potion and downed it. "How long before it works?"

"Don't worry, Korra. You'll feel better in a moment. What about you, Stella? Are you good?"

"My hand is fine. I'm fine. I turned off the pain," she said to Becca and looked at me. "Seriously, Grey. You don't have a pain-reducing skill?"

"I know, stupid, huh?"

"Damn!"

"It's unusual," Becca agreed. "Not unheard of, though. Lieutenant Blaine doesn't have one either." I knew that, but I wasn't sure he'd be happy with her talking about it so easily.

"Anyway, your regeneration seems much improved, Korra. You'll be on your feet in no time." 

Who knew how quickly your thoughts could turn against you? Anyway, was it true? "You think so? I mean, that thing about my improved regeneration?"

"Absolutely. Marcus himself was impressed by it. If it was the old you, you'd stay here a day or two longer."

Of course, that didn't go without Palemoon giving me the eye. "You don't know the extent of your own regeneration?"

"I got a tier in the skill during our fight. Between me being dead and out of it, I haven't had time to check it out, okay?"

Palemoon bit her lip in guilt at my remark. "I shouldn't be surprised since you gained a level, but...so what are you waiting for? Check it out." 

Yeah, I gained a level; that much I had noticed during the fight. And a ton of other notifications I was dying to see, only her telling me to do it was rubbing me the wrong way. Was she already trying to boss me around? Guess it was time to show how I could handle my beast pride.

"It's important to know your body. That way, you'll know where your limits lay," Becca said as my mind was already sinking into the system.

 

Never-Dying

Passive IV (Slave - 10%)

Dying is not good for your health. Although you died several times, always coming back to life. The regeneration of your body is exceptional, and even death does not mean the end of the road for you. As long as the brain is not damaged, you can find a new way to die later.

Tier II - To avoid further death, the [regeneration] of your body is further enhanced by 110% (75%→100%) and the [Constitution] by 38% (20%→35%)

Tier III - In some situations, it may matter how quickly you can get back on your feet. There's nothing easier than boosting regeneration with a little bit of mana.

Tier IV - While logic would dictate that the more mass, the more to heal, and while true so far, that is not your case anymore. No matter what shape your body shifts into, whatever size you grow into, regardless of the weight your hunger drives you to, your regeneration remains unchanged, true to yourself.

 

Damn! Regeneration increased by 27%, more Constitution, and that Tier IV...I honestly didn't think of my regeneration being hampered in any way by my ever-increasing weight so far. Stupid of me! The question was, what did the true self mean? Me unaffected by skills? Or pure Korra from Earth weighing a mere 63kg? That was a hell of a difference from the current me.

Should I believe [Eleaden Standard Language] and the local weigh-ins, I was a solid 98 kilos two days ago. Not sure how much now after fighting Palemoon, and shifting into full beast. Was it that simple though? I mean the strength of my regeneration. Somehow I had a hard time believing that there was a direct correlation between my weight and the strength of it. Still...damn!

"So?" Palemoon asked, wondering what made me tick, looking for the reason behind my miraculous resurrection. While I was tempted to say nothing, I couldn't blame her for trying to make sense of me. 

"I got a decent boost to my regeneration." Nothing but the truth and all that they could ask of me. And they both knew that, not pressing me to spill more, though that much of what I gave away was obvious when I reached the new tier.

"As I said, it's important to know yourself," Becca said, smiling warmly. Then her attitude suddenly changed, she grew serious, and her eyes began to dart between the two of us. "How are things with you guys? Are you good, or...?"

"We're not going to fight, are we Grey? Not here in the infirmary."

Ah, so Becca figured things between us weren't quite roses and dandy yet. "It never crossed my mind."

"Good to hear. Some guys will be disappointed, though."

"They wanted to see us fight?"

Becca shrugged and nodded. "They were betting on it. Seeing a Deviant and a Warrior duke it out here would be interesting."

"You too?" Palemoon took the question from my lips.

"No, my money's on you two have it out. So, could you not blow it for me?" I had long since learned that a favorite pastime of the locals, especially the city guards, was to bet on all sorts of things, so I wasn’t that surprised that even Becca was in. What blew my mind was something else entirely. Actually, I doubted my brain was completely fixed, because I only now realized that Becca was calling me a Deviant. Plus, she didn't do it once, but twice already. There was a chance she read my files, but if she did, why didn't she so openly call me that before?

"B-Becca..." My voice trembled so badly that worry instantly flashed through her eyes. "Why do you call me Deviant?"

When she heard my question, concern gave way to understanding, and she smiled warmly again. "Because that's what I see you are when I look at you."

Time seemed to stand still, my spat with Stella forgotten, my breath caught in my throat as the implications of what I had just heard hit me harder than a mind mage's attack. Unless it was some cruel joke on her part, I was no longer [Slave] to the people but [Deviant].