I bolt awake, again, and sit-up, again. This time I really am awake though, not stuck in some random vision, and my head is throbbing. It’s so bad the room feels tilted and I have to lay back down before it starts spinning outright.

Maybe the vision wasn’t so bad after all.

*Quest complete. You are now a veteran swordsman*

I groan.

*You are a veteran horse rider as well.*

*I did not create rules for the bonuses. I just administer them.>

*It is neither convenient or inconvenient. It simply is what it is.*

* I am not profound. I am not capable of insights anymore. I simply state the rules.*

But I get no response, possibly because such questions are not within his predetermined rules.

You know for a fantastic magical world Tinny still feels more like a sci-fi robot.

And he does. For the first time in my life someone actually did what I told them to, or so I think in my state of wretched self-pity. I had a migraine once when I was sixteen and it was terrible. This feels a lot like that. And I don’t even have ibuprofen -- not that the drug helped anyway, so maybe it’s better without the dumb thing.

“Uggghhh.”

I hear a patter of feet.

Finally.

The patter passes me by.

Son of a bitch.

I wonder if I’ve been forgotten; then I wonder if there’s anyone left to remember me.

Maybe we lost.

Fear swells within me and it’s enough to force my lids open. Just a crack.

I just want to see something…someone…

And I do. A blue light filters through the slits and it doesn’t take much light for me to see the wings.

“Angel,” I mumble.

“I told you not to talk to her.”

“What?” The room is still tilted. I wish it would stop tilting.

“The demon distracted you; she almost cost us our victory.”

Ah, yes, my helpful demon – or not so helpful, depending on your point of view – who was apparently in league with the sorceress long before she met me.

Is she still with the sorceress? Secretly working against me?

“I was pointing to the face earlier,” the angel continues, “but you did not see me. Because you were distracted by her. That gave the dryad time to call in her allies. They nearly defeated you. It is fortunate for you that I did not give-up, that I sought your attention a second time.”

My brain is mushy but I have a vague recollection of the conversation: the demon suggesting I join with the dryad, me refusing. “At least I rejected her offer. That should score me some points in the angel ledger, right?”

“There is no ‘angel ledger’, Ethan. And life is not about ‘scoring points’’.”

I turn away and close my eyes. Maybe it was better when I was all alone. At least then I wasn’t being chastised for my failings.

“I’m only trying to help you,” the angel continues.

“You could ask how I am, then,” I reply bitterly. “Instead of criticizing me.”

“Why? There are others tending to your physical state. I am trying to strengthen your soul.”

“My soul isn’t the thing giving me a headache.”

“Very well then.”

The blue light fades and I am left alone once more.

Time passes. One minute. Two.

Maybe I was too hard on her.

Three minutes.

I was certainly too hard on her.

Four minutes.

I can’t deal with myself anymore. I hate everything. Especially this stupid headache.

Five minutes and I hear a tent flap open. Once more I squint out from under narrowed lids.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

An elf claps his hands together. It sounds as loud as a gunshot in my ears. “I knew it.”

I groan.

“I just knew it. We elves have a feeling you know, a sense about things. A special relationship with the planet some call it.”

What do others call it?

“And the universe told me you were up. Everyone will be so excited. Everyone that’s left anyway. Many are dead unfortunately. But now’s not the time for that. Not the time for that at all.”

I risk a little more sight and open my lids far enough to see a dotty old elf rushing around the room, practically manic with excitement as he tips over jards and sniffs open bottles. The whole scene is more like a witch’s hut than a doctor’s office.

“Ah,” says the elf. “Here it is. I’m sure you are disoriented. This will help.”

He comes to my bed and jerks me upright so fast the room really does spin.

“Open your mouth” he says, teasingly, strangely, like a girl who’s feeling a bit flirty.

That’s a disturbing thought.

I comply and he dumps a dank liquid into it. I nearly gag.

“Swallow! Swallow!” He chants and does a little jig around the room – leprechaun style.

I gulp the liquid and try to lie back down.

“Oh no, no, no,” says the elf. “That will burn your throat. You must sit-up, sit-up straight like a good little boy.”

I teeter as I sit, at least initially. Then the room stops gyrating. Then I stop gyrating. The pain is still there, a continuous throb at the back of my head, but I can see normally and I don’t feel so nauseous.

The elf peers in at me, his eyes wide and anticipatory. “Better, eh?”

I nod absent-mindedly and the fellow starts hopping about again. I look at my injuries and see the bandages. I’d like to see how things look under them but don’t want to tempt the elf into introducing any more strange tonics to me.

“Sit still. Sit still.” the elf bounds around checking on my wounds. “Still much work to be done.”

“More work? What’s wrong with me? How long have I been out?”

“Hmm. Hmm. Asking questions. Hmm. Good news indeed.”

“Any chance of getting answers to those questions?”

The elf taps his fingers together, positively brimming with excitement. “Oh, there was so much wrong. So much. Concussion, bleeding, sprains, breaks, and busts?”

“Busts?” I ask.

“Oops, did I say busts? I do get distracted with thoughts of naked nipples.”

I blink. “Wait. What did you say?”

The elf starts hopping again.

I have to get out of here.

I try to stand and promptly fall over; my muscles are as soft as the ramen noodles I used to eat.

“Woah! Slow down little man. You aren’t ready yet. Not ready to see everyone.” He pauses considering. “Though maybe just one…”

“Just one?”

But the healer is gone, popping out of the room while I struggle back into bed. He returns shortly and starts tinkering with some random vase like I’m not even here. Then starts sorting and sifting through different flowers.

“Hello there,” I try after a while. “You said ‘everyone’, yes? Does that mean we won?”

The elf pops-up over, focusing on me again. “Win? Oh yes, we won. Very much so.” He turns suddenly solemn. “Except those who lost. They are very dead indeed.”

“So we defeated the dryad,” I say, just to be clear. “And her army?”

“So many are lost now,” the elf’s face is vacant. “Never to return.” The elf bows his head and I’m pretty sure he’s praying.

I lick my lips, wanting to say something comforting. “May the Maker mark their map.”

The elf turns to me, clearly confused.

Oops I guess you only say that when people are still alive. Not for those that are already dead. My bad.

The tent flap russles again and another elf enters. A much prettier one.

“Princess Lunestra,” the healer exclaims. “Excellent to see you. So glad you could come. I know you had an interest in this one.”

The elf girl is radiant. Her elegant hair, modest yet stylish dress, and immaculately sculpted hair look downright magical to me. How she maintains such a perfect appearance at the front is beyond.

She smiles broadly upon seeing me and I can’t help but reciprocate.

You know if that traitorous Myran died in battle then just maybe…..

“I’m so glad you’re up,” she says, coming straight to my bedside. “How are you feeling?”

Somebody finally asked me.

“Lousy,” I say sheepishly, “But better than I was.” I nod at the healer. “He helped me. Made the room stop spinning.”

The princess turns to the old elf. “Thank you, Glaryth.”

The old elf chuckles. “All in a days work, princess. All in a days work. Now you don’t tucker this young man out, ya hear. I know how talkative young ladies can be and he’s still gotta heal some more before you start sending him out on any more adventures.”

The princess smiles kindly. “Glaryth, I assure you I’m very concerned about Ethan’s health and I am the last person to send him anywhere. I serve my father, just as you do.”

Glaryth’s face darkens. “In that case he’s worse off then I thought.”

Luna’s beautiful features grow tight. “Though I will suggest that it’s statements like that held you back all these years. Kept you in the fringes of society, when you did not deserve to be.”

Glaryth bows deeply. “Thank you, your highness, and I suggest that the fringes were the safest place to be in these times. At least, if all those dead elves mean anything.”

Wow, this dude has some balls.

The princesses takes a step forward and raises her hand. It looks like she’ll strike him but instead places it firmly on the elf’s head, like she is an earthen priest blessing a penitent. “You may go now.”

Glaryth, still bowing, exits the room.

We are alone.

I look at Luna. “Your dad’s a popular guy I gather.”

“He is the Lord of the Elves,” she responds, “and it’s not his duty to be popular. It’s his duty to lead.”

Touche.

“Well, anyway,” I say, trying to recover, “I’m certainly glad he sent Glaryth to me. Turns out his brews are disgusting but very potent.”

The princess softens. “I will let him know, though I should tell you that it wasn’t his idea, and it took some…convincing.”

“Well, then,” I say with a little seated bow of my own, “it seems I should thank you as well then.”

“Oh no,” princess demurs “It was Myran, not I.”

My face drops without permission at the mention of that name, and my thrill at seeing the princess diminishes considerably.

She notices my reaction and places a hand on my shoulder. “He told us everything. I know what you must think of him.”

I laugh awkwardly. “Am I that transparent?”

“Believe me when I tell you that he thinks even worse of himself.”

I pull away. “You’re just saying that because you’re betrothed.”

The princess removes her hand and looks away. “Not anymore,” she whispers.

I’m once again hopeful, if confused. “What do you mean?”

“This isn’t about me, Ethan. This is your day and my father would love to see you if you can manage a short journey. He wants to thank you personally.”

“Ugh…”

I’d love to get some gratitude around here. But I’m not really sure I can ‘manage’ it yet.

Luna smiles at me. “I understand. Let’s wait a few more days and see how you’re feeling.”

“Sounds good.” I say. “I’ll see you in a while then.”

“Oh no,” says Luna. “You misunderstand. You’ll see my father in a few days. But you’ll see me every day.”

“I will?” I ask with surprise.

“Of course,” she gives me a wink. “You think I’d make Glaryth take care of you all by himself?”