I made a mistake. My poor decision making made itself known to me through a light headache, which got worse as I rolled over in bed. Drinking too much right before a long day of work was never a bright idea. Everyone shared this plan in my village due to our summer solstice celebrations. Shared pain was still pain nonetheless.

Light poured through the single bedroom window my wife Cassie and I could afford. Money wasn’t easy to come by in our small community. Being the only decent smith for miles around was more than enough for us, but Cass enjoyed working in the tavern.

Cass had left for the tavern already, and my soup was cold by the time I finished dressing. The sounds of daily life outside were my only company for breakfast. After heading out and donning my apron, I took stock of materials, finished and unfinished products. Completing current orders within my self imposed timeline of a week and a half was going to be easily doable. A challenge would be welcome, but most of my work was simple repairs to farming equipment and the occasional spearhead or axe. Monsters weren’t too common in our part of Darcia. Still, the infrequent attacks and disappearances reminded us that it paid to be armed.

While pushing the darker thoughts from my mind, I sat down and began working on the first project of the day. Sharpening a pair of almost finished axes was the first task today. Sparks flew, and I gradually sunk into my rhythm or, if you went by Cassie’s preferred name, ‘Trace’s Trance.’ My trance was interrupted by a loud cough behind me. Several hours had passed, judging by the number of tools I’d repaired.

“Yo, Trace, are those my axes?” Mikael’s deep baritone resounded over the sound of heavy footsteps.

I turned to watch him walking over to the axes, resting on a table to my right. With a shit-eating grin, I replied, “Nah, those are more fit for a man of your standing.” I pointed towards a small pile of wrought iron pieces.

As usual, he ignored my comments and gave a nearly inaudible snort. Mikael was a good man by any accounts. As a veteran who’s served in several dangerous regions, he had my respect. A man with his reputation, and presumably wealth, could have chosen to retire anywhere. He settled down here, and if you asked anyone around, it was one reason our village had so little losses to monster attacks.

After testing the axes’ balance and taking a few experimental swings, he grunted in seeming approval. I prepared myself for the inevitable as he reached towards a pouch on his belt. Out from the purse, he threw a blur, faster than any natural human could aimed directly at my gut. This was a game many in the village liked to play with me. I was renowned for somehow being incredibly clumsy at handling and catching most objects while simultaneously a gifted smith. I managed to catch my payment this time, albeit only after it impacted my apron with a heavy thud.

I was initially surprised at his generosity. A gold was significantly more than the agreed-upon price for this commission. Upon looking down, however, I was utterly shocked. A small, lightly glowing orange Stone sat in my palm. This grade of Stone was on the weaker end of things and was still worth more than most smiths would earn in a year. If I used this right now, I could double any one of my current physical traits. My jaw dropped as I raised my head to meet his eyes.

The large man just laughed at me and then, with a wink, said, “Consider it an investment for the village on the little devil you and Cassie are working on making.”

With tears threatening to make their way into my eyes, I thanked him before he left. Presumably, he was going out to hunt down a monster or two with his new axes. This Stone was enough to double the current supply Cass, and I prepared for the child we both hoped was coming. So far, we had been trying for around four months, and she hadn’t shown any pregnancy signs.

We were going to make damn sure our child had enough to thrive in this world.

*

Once I had wrapped up my work at the forge, I headed towards the tavern. Cassie would still be working for another hour or so, but I couldn’t wait to tell her about Mikaels gift. The pub was a decent walk away, being on the other side of the village. I gave my greetings to those I had friendly relations with and smiled at the scowls from the few with petty grievances. I did free work a few times a year, but some people were just never satisfied.

Things were quieter than usual as I approached the back door into the tavern’s kitchen, something that was probably inevitable after a large celebration like yesterday’s. I wanted to sneak up and scare Cass, so I did my best as always to quietly open the back door. As I stepped into the room, I was immediately faced with a tear-soaked Ron. He pushed past me and ran off before I had a chance to ask if he was okay. I’d have Cass confirm my grim suspicions.

Turning back to the kitchen and closing the doorway, I found my wife sitting on a stool, looking at me with a face full of pity. “His parents were drafted?” is all I needed to say, and after she returned a nod, I found myself sighing.

After a long hug, she repeated words I’d heard hundreds of times. “Why aren’t they satisfied with giving their children monster Stones? We’re the ones out here suffering from attacks. It’s not like the nobles are ever in danger unless they choose to be!” She sounded exasperated, and she had every right to be if you asked me. Sadly the people making these decisions didn’t give a damn what I thought.

I planted a kiss on her forehead, “I agree, hopefully, we can move somewhere this kind of thing doesn’t happen. I heard a rumor that the Catecian Kingdom outlawed consumption of human Stones, even for nobles.”

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

A subdued, “I hope so.” was all I got. We sat in silence for a while after that. Eventually, Cass got up and began preparing us both a meal.

Fishing the orange Stone out of my pocket, I tried to lighten her mood. “I do have some good news. Mikael paid a little extra for those axes I was working on.” Once I held it up for her to see her jaw dropped.

She squealed, “What! Trace, with this, our child will be nearly as strong as you before they’re fifteen.”

While the image of losing an arm-wrestling match with my future teenage daughter or son was slightly dejecting, the look on her face and that squeal more than made up for it. Doing my best to look exaggeratedly offended, I cradled the Stone in my arms. “Well, maybe I should just use it for myself!” I was rewarded with a punch in the arm and her brilliant smile. More affection than any man could ask for.

After finishing our food, I headed home to clean up the forge while she stayed behind at the tavern to prepare the kitchen for tomorrow’s meals. Once I got home, the sun had just dipped below the horizon. I settled into bed with a sigh and quickly let my consciousness fade.

*

The first thing I noticed after waking up was screaming and shouting. Once that registered, I was already getting up and rushing for my hammer. One thought rang through my head as I burst outside, Cass isn’t home yet.

The second thing that hit me was the smell of smoke, and the fact that I could see clearly outside despite it being night. Several fires were in the process of burning down the homes of my distant neighbors. The culprits revealed themselves to me soon after; a dozen men rushed around the corner, chasing after a man I recognized as Henry the carpenter and his wife. The carpenter carried nothing while they were all armed. After the painful seconds it took to shake my fear mostly away, I took two steps towards them when the armed men caught and cut down both of them. Laughter erupted from these vile men before they continued running into the night, searching for more prey. Two of them stopped to begin the process of breaking the carpenter and his wife open. Their chests were soon a bloody mess, and the soft glow of their life Stones shone through from just to the left of their still-beating hearts.

Four of them noticed me and began running over. I’d like to say I was able to take the men all on, or even just take one of them down with me. The truth is I landed a single blow, probably breaking the man’s wrist before I was hit with the third thing since I woke up. A sword planted itself in my gut. I had experienced pain before; all smiths had accidents when learning the trade. This was incomparable. I felt as though my insides had been set on fire. My next wound was a slash to my arm as I raised it to block my face. I don’t remember falling over, but I was on my back now. The moon hanging above me, partially obscured by clouds, was particularly beautiful tonight. I recognized a boot flashing towards my head, and I was relieved from my pain by blissful unconsciousness.

*

When I woke, I was in less pain than before I had lost consciousness, I knew that was not a good thing, but I couldn’t think of why. Looking down at myself, I saw more blood than I had ever seen in my life. There was still screaming, but it sounded much more distant now. I knew I had to get up and do something, but I couldn’t think of why. Laying here was much more comfortable. It would be nice just to go back to sleep. Sleep is one of the best comforts in life.

Cassie. I began to sit up, doing my best to hold the tattered remains of my shirt over the wound in my stomach. I took one step and then another. I made my way towards the tavern where she would be. The bodies of neighbors I greeted this morning told me that it was hopeless and she was already gone. She couldn’t be gone. I heard voices off to my right, a group of those damned thugs searching for survivors or ripping Stones out of the dead. If anything about this situation could be called lucky, it was the fact that they didn’t notice me.

As I limped around the corner into the center of what was once a cozy village, I saw a massacre. Mikael’s unmistakeable hulking form lay face down, surrounded by more bodies than I could count. Next to him, however, was a sight that caused me to vomit. I limped towards my Cassie. Her bloodied corpse, for I was now close enough to know for sure it was a corpse, was only attached to her head by the barest amount of skin.

I don’t know when the tears started, probably before I made it halfway there, but now they flowed like the Fontane rivers. After a precious few moments kneeling next to her, I heard the unmistakable snap of a crossbow firing and felt pain spark through my back. Then, there was nothing.

*

There indeed was absolutely nothing. None of my senses gave any feedback. I was not swimming in an endless silent ocean of black. I didn’t exist anymore. There were no sounds, nor sights or sensations. This was death.

I had no way to tell how long I had been in this state. I hadn’t thought to attempt to keep track of time, though I doubt I would have been able to if I tried. Being deprived of everything but grief and loneliness was excruciating. My love, the family I had yet to create, and even my own life, was all gone. Death is permanent, regardless of cultural or religious beliefs. This is known as a simple fact. This senseless eternity could be my punishment for being too weak or accomplishing too little.

In the face of this, what could I do? Rage. It engulfed me, first at the greedy bandits or soldiers. They had mercilessly slaughtered us without hesitation, just for fun and profit. Those men were worth less than a single one of my now dead neighbors and friends. Then my anger turned to the callous and haughty nobles. Taking from us those with able hands and fit bodies, so they could kill our loved ones to strengthen theirs. Finally, my anger peaked, directed at myself. Had I worked more studiously, those around me could have been better armed and able to defend our home. Had I trained myself for combat in that undeniably harsh and dangerous world, I might have been able to make it to my Cassie in time. Had I only stayed by her side for one more hour until she returned home, I could have at least held her in my arms one last time. I would trade anything to have been with her in those final moments. Even if we couldn’t have survived, that would have been enough.

As with the rest of my time here, if time was even a concept in whatever level of hell I now reside in, I do not know how long I spent talking to myself. Arguing over where in my life better choices could have been made, down to the smallest things. Eventually, I found myself asking whatever god or demon controlled this place to end me. I cannot bear the thought of continuing this unlife without her.

And yet, I still exist within this endless nothing, unable to truly end.

*

Please let it end.

*

I feel something. I can feel again, and yet I cannot identify the sensation, warmth maybe? Sound begins to return to me. There are muffled voices, but not of any language I could locate. This is terrifying. Have my demons finally become bored with my previous form of torture? I find I once again have a physical body; the sensation is strange and horrible. My eyes will not open, and no light seems to reach them. My futile struggles do very little to alleviate these horrid sensations, and I find a familiar burning sensation within my chest.

I cannot breathe. If I must breathe, then am I alive again? The burning is increasing in intensity. If this isn’t some new form of torture, I must not let a chance at a new life slip past. I cannot go back into that state ever again. I must not. For all my struggling, I still am unable to breathe. My mind begins to slip away from me… NO! I will not go back. Please do not make me go back there.

*

Death, again. I would cry, but of course, I am unable to form tears. Was that a missed opportunity for rebirth or a second chance? It could have been some foul method of torture to give me hope. There is nothing but despair for me here. Please.

Has it been minutes or days? Perhaps only hours have passed since I died. Cycles of worry, stress, anger, and guilt flowed by. Mostly I was lonely, talking to myself without sound. Hearing and seeing memories as though they were real. Nothing is real, nothing is here—just me.

*

Cass is here with me today. Hahaha, a funny joke, right? There are no days here. There is no here, here. There is no Cass anymore.