I woke up screaming the next day.

I had been doing pretty good. It’d been nearly two weeks, since I last dreamt of those last few months of my last life. And now the counter was set back to zero.

And then I remembered how badly I had fucked up yesterday.

I wasn’t sure what hurt more. That I had failed in my previous life, and that I lived while my friends died. Or that I had some completely and utterly fucked up my relationship with the first friend I had run into in my new life. I shook my head to clear the fog, and went to the window and opened up the shutters for some fresh air.

It was surprisingly early. I could still see the stars, and the sky was dark, but the dark of the promise of the sun to come. I got dressed—minus my jacket, hat, and weapons; fuck that was stupid leaving those there—and broke my fast, before heading to the West Gate. The Gate was still closed, but they were about to open it soon anyway. So I waited around. I got to talking to one of the guardsmen, Robert, who had just come onto his shift. He was a middle-aged, friendly sort, but pretty empty headed for his years. I tried raising a hypothetical with him about a angering a female friend and, despite numerous clarifications, all he could think about was either getting her pregnant or getting her sister pregnant. So much for receiving elderly advice when you need it.

With the first peak of sun over the mountains, and the dawn bell, the gate finally opened, I stretched out my legs and ran to my training glade. I paused at the edge, half-expecting to still see Becca there. Idiot. Why would she stay out here overnight? I jogged over to the oak tree, and was relieved to see that all my belongings were there. Less reassuring, Becca’s regurgitated lunch was still there on the grass. Sighing, I created a ball of water, and washed away yesterday’s mistake into the creek. Well, I thought, at least I have three other friends. And, hey, it’s a new life. You can also make new friends. Wouldn’t that be something?

You would think I could give myself better pep talks than that. But, I couldn’t and all I wanted to do was hurt something. I topped up my weights with an extra 100 kilograms, then sat down to meditate for an half bell to recover my spent ki. That lasted only about a tenth bell before my turbulent mind refused anymore, and I headed to the northern edge of the glade to begin my morning strength routine, adding an extra 25% because absent hitting a target, I was at least going to inflict pain on myself.

I continued my strength routine for about a half bell, before peevishly pulling out my sword and going through a number of training regimes. That didn’t last long until my emotions completely overwhelmed me; I began messily channeling attuned ki through my sword and just started wrecking trees. In ten minutes, I had toppled at least two hundred trees. Where I had tread, the ground was muddied or scorched, and there were at least a few small fires started from electrical discharges.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

But, I felt better about yesterday, though this was tempered by an increasing annoyance at myself. Annoyed that I had lost control of my own emotions; annoyed that I had summarily extended my glade; annoyed that this little light show could have potentially been sensed from the City. But the anger and frustration from yesterday were gone and that perhaps was the best I could hope for.

I sheathed my sword, and walked around the short edge of the glade, lingered at the water’s edge shortly, then followed the creek back to the oak. I focused intently on each step I took least my emotions explode out again.

I didn’t realized I wasn’t alone until I was only ten meters from my belongings.

Inexplicably, Becca was there, kneeling on both legs, with her buttocks on her heels. I had … never seen her in such a deferential position before. She had bags under her eyes, and her hair, though short, was tied back with a strip of leather. She looked like she had slept in her clothing, and it didn’t seem that she had brought a bag with her.

She met my eyes and we looked at each other for a few moments, until I had to look away. I didn’t know what to say and couldn’t even bring myself to meet her eyes again (or even understand why she was here).

“I, I…” she croaked, then began again. “I want to train with you.”

That was unexpected. “Why?”

“There is no one,” she croaked those last word, “else… in the City that can train me like you can. I, *hic*,” uh-oh, “*hic*, know you can.”

I let that hang in the air for a while. A minute, maybe two, before I found the courage to look her in the eyes again. There was… something there. Something I had not seen in a very long time.

Staring intently into her eyes, I asked quite possibly the most important question I ever had, in this life or the last.

“What is it… that you want?”

For all that this short conversation had bewildered me, that that question stumped her was not something I had expected. Becca looked down, and I could see the emotions play across her face: fretting, thoughtful, and firm resolution. She looked up back at me and responded. If I thought I was getting a speech about morality and the greater good, I was quickly mistaken.

“Power.”

I wasn’t sure how long that word lingered in the air. I met her eyes for a long minute, then looked away, deep in thought. Finally, I picked up and threw on my jacket. As I put on my hat, I turned to the north, and gave only one instruction:

“Follow me.”