Pain.

The world is a blur of dizzying sensations - the smell of something burnt, the taste of blood and bile in my mouth, the black spots filling my damaged vision, and a shrill ringing sound dominating my hearing… but the most significant sensation, the most all encompassing signal spreading through my awareness is pain.

My lungs scream at me as I force them to swell with a paltry gasp of air, my legs refuse to move and I pretend not to notice that they’re bent in ways legs aren’t meant to, my left arm is black like charcoal where it doesn’t just look like cooked meat - merely lifting my head unlocks a new rainbow of agony.

Of course, I have questions.

What.. happened?

Running back the clock I assemble a jumbled mess of images and feelings that pass for memory; triumph, frustration, terror.

That fucking bird.

Somehow I managed to cross the village’s invisible protective threshold moments after the lightning hit me… somehow I’m still alive.

I thought [Deathless] didn’t work…?

The answer comes to me when I reach up to take off my helmet and find that instead of cold metal my hand meets crumbly white ash in a familiar domed shape - with few options I use my one remaining good arm to clear it away.

Oh… right… the sacrificial effect.

Breathing comes somewhat easier after I drag my mask down, but it’s still a torturous experience and I cough up a splatter of red after inhaling some of those ashes carried on the breeze.

One of my bandoliers is nowhere to be seen, the single jar of [Alchemical Fire] loaded in it detonated spectacularly and seared off the front of my leather armor and scattered or destroyed the other supplies tucked away next to it.

Fuck, I need to heal...

I try to summon a healing potion from the [Greater Magic Bag], but I just can’t focus on the idea clearly enough - without a well defined mental picture, it just won’t work - and digging in there manually is nigh impossible even when I’m not clinging to life by a spider’s thread.

Fuck.

FUCK!

FUCKING FUCK!

I weakly pound the ground with the one limb that’s still moving according to my will. 

Attempting to scream my fury out only results in a soft wheezing gurgle and a sudden awareness of the fact that it’s easier to count the number of my ribs that aren’t broken.

I’m angry… I’m so very angry because if I stop being angry all I will feel is despair.

Every time I think I’ve got a handle on life in this dumpster fire of a universe, something has to come and comprehensively prove me wrong.

Beneath the light of dawn filtering through storm clouds I begin to crawl through the mud - I only have one option left, the goddess.

For most of my adult life, I’ve taken the angle of an ‘angry agnostic’ - that is to say I believed in a higher power because I needed someone to blame - and now I’m dragging my half-dead body into a church to beg a deity for help.

It’s… pathetic.

I’m pathetic.

Inch by agonizing inch, I claw my way across the ancient cobbles towards my makeshift home. It’s not an easy journey, I nearly black out when my shattered torso runs over the sharp angled stone of the stairs - each bump eliciting an involuntary pained whimper.

The jagged fragments of several of my ribs stabbed out through my flanks and filled my armor with a mixture of blood and bile - behind me lies a trail of rusty red smears left as if to mark my passing. By the time I arrive at the foot of the statue my pride is as broken as my bones. 

With pleading eyes I stare up at the statue, I know nothing of this world’s culture or religion, I haven’t got the slightest idea of why she saw fit to bless me or what she could want with me, but I have to hope she can answer my prayer - that she will answer my prayer.

Not just to fix my current state, but for strength to never fall this low again.

It’s the option I have left.

If I am not answered… if the goddess decides I’m not worth her time, all that remains is the death I postponed so desperately by breaking my body. Last night I felt like I could fly, I was riding high but the description of [Exceed Limits] says it all - ‘There is a price to be paid for such power’.

Please help me.

I try to say the words, but they won’t come out right…

•••

(Side - Ikenia)

I can’t look away.

At my feet is a sobbing figure barely recognizable as human - mangled and broken in ways almost unimaginably horrible.

Her skin is a charred mess of bruises and angry red marks that spider along in meandering pathways showing where lightning tore through her form - her eyes are a milky and unfocused mess.

“...lea… se he… p…”

The stuttered prayer doesn’t come easily… it’s a miracle that she can speak at all.

Through the eyes of my statue I watched her drag herself across the stone floor and up the stairs with one arm, every other limb bent and contorted in unnatural fashions.

She pushed her body in ways incomprehensible to me - tore her body apart just to escape that monster. 

She trusted my power to defend her and did everything she could to find safety and sanctuary in my church.

“Pl… ese… nee… t… be... str… ger...”

As her blackened fingers reach up to brush the hem of my icon’s dress, her blind eyes pierce me through to my core.

Lifting my eyes from the mortal world I look across my realm; its true that I could save her, but the cost…

“All of my remaining power...”

Looking around my paradise I see the familiar faces of my flock, souls kept eternally young by that very power.

She begs, not simply to be saved, but to be stronger.

“...”

•••

(Side: Amber)

Suddenly, the blistering pain is gone.

Shit… am I dying?

I can’t make out much more than a few feet from me, but I swear the statue is moving, bending down - the hand lowered before me is not cold grey stone, its… real?

My consciousness fades as warmth slowly fills my chest and a sensation like a gentle and caring touch brushes my cheek.

“O faithful one that begs my aid, I grant it freely - rest and rise again restored with new vigor.”

A series of windows flash before my eyes dumping information directly into my brain before my eyelids flutter and fall shut.

At the foot of the statue I fall into a death like sleep, a strange warmth surrounding me as I slip into the comfortable darkness behind my eyes and dream a strange dream.

---

Suddenly, I sit up taking a gasp of breath - a heap of miscellaneous quest rewards tumbling off my body as I bolt up.

My head is foggy and the scattered memory of a dream dissolves like mist in the hot sun; as the last bits of it leave my consciousness I can’t help but feel like I’m forgetting something important but...

“I’m… healed…”

Flexing my fingers experimentally I pat myself down, the bloody and burnt mess that was my chest is now  a patchwork of gnarly scars and the red trail I smeared across the stone floor has dried into a thick sticky paste.

It’s ugly, but I’m in much better condition.

I look up at the statue of the nameless goddess and it stands there unchanged. After some thought, I bow my head and close my eyes - as shaky as my relations with divinity have been in the past, I’m not the sort to let help like that go without thanks.

I summon one of the [Silver Trade Bars] from my bag and place it in the platter held by the statue.

I’m forced to avert my eyes as the small bar of precious metal vanishes in a flash of painfully bright white light.

…

I don’t really know what I was expecting, but it sure as hell wasn’t that.

Gonna need some time to work through everything but I think after a miraculous healing, I can firmly say I believe gods are real and this one is alright in my books.

Looking up at the statue, I say another irreverent prayer.

“Whatever your name is… thanks - I don’t really understand why you saved me, but I promise I’ll do my best not to waste it and to keep you from regretting it.”

With that sorted out, I take a moment to figure out what I should be doing - looking at the ground around me, I make note of the small heap of magical baubles and trinkets I received as quest rewards.

…

“Yeah, I’m gonna deal with that later.”

Shuffling away from the statue, I hear the sound of thunder from outside and see that despite the serene light filtering in through the windows of the church, rain still pours in the distance.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…”

Working up my courage, I peek on the situation outside only to be startled by a flash of lightning; I shudder involuntarily and prepare myself for pain but the bolt is halted mid air as a dome of golden light appears to hold it back.

“...”

In the distance I can see the falcon and for a moment our eyes meet… it screeches and more furious bolts crash against the barrier that’s apparently holding back high voltage death.

Slowly I close the door to the church.

“That’s… also a problem for later.”

With a frustrated sigh I sit down and start peeling off the charred remains of my armor, the leggings are still recoverable save for a few holes, and the bandoliers are a loss too… but most devastatingly my favorite lucky t-shirt is blackened and stained with blood.

With all of that handled I give myself a rag bath with cold water, examining the state of my body in greater detail. I can’t help but think that what happened feels like nothing but a bad dream - but looking over my body the evidence of that nightmarish experience is still there.

My skin is gnarled like bark in places where I suffered burns and the lightning definitely left its mark in spidering white pathways running over my entire body, beyond that I can feel the scars from where the feathers punched through my armor like daggers.

“What the fuck is my life right now?”

In the circumstances, I feel a bit lost, but there’s one thing I can be sure of.

“I’m fucking hungry.”