For the second time since coming to this desert, Symon woke up by inhaling a mouthful of sand. He panicked, thinking he'd been buried yet again, but rolling over was enough to show he was merely face down in the sand. After coughing it all back up -- this really couldn't be good for his throat -- he glanced over at the centipede. It was unmoving, curled up on itself like a dead spider. He let out a sigh of relief at this news, further deepened by how easy it was to breathe. It brought back memories of being bedbound, too weak to move, too weak to even drink water by himself.

Symon shuddered, pushing these memories back down. All that mattered was that he was still alive, and he needed to keep things that way. Still, how was he alive? He'd been unable to breathe, feeling his heart slowly shut down, and yet he woke up fine.

"Well, maybe not fine," he said aloud. His arm was crisscrossed with angry red lines, but they were more painful than actually dangerous, although that was presuming he had modern medical supplies to combat potential infections. He didn't, of course. Thankfully, they'd stopped bleeding, same as the narrow but deep wounds on his stomach and thigh. They'd all stopped bleeding, and in fact looked more like they were a couple of days old instead of -- he glanced up at the still-lit sky, the suns noticeably closer to setting -- instead of the hour or two he must have been unconscious. He was a little thirsty, but it wasn't too bad yet, so he couldn't have slept through a full day. Confused, he asked the only thing he could for help.

"Sand, what just happened? Did I come back from almost dying again?"

The sand responded in its usual manner.

[ Status:

Name: Symon

Class: Cursed Healer

Strength: 0.65 {+0.02}

Constitution: 0.91 {+0.04}

Acuity: 0.7 {+0.02}

Intelligence: 0.72

Will: 0.96 {+0.01}

Vessel (Vitality): 0/7 ]

Abilities:

Idealise (1) {+1}: Consumes Vitality to return a living target to its peak state. This ability automatically applies to the wielder and cannot be disabled.

Seize (1) {+1}: Absorbs Vitality from a target and stores it in the wielder's Vessel. This ability automatically applies to valid targets and cannot be disabled.

Passives:

Poison Resistance (0) {New} ]

Symon considered these changes from top to bottom. The first time the sand had shown him his status, he'd been in a bit of a daze and probably paid it less thought than he should have. It wasn't like he was going anywhere fast with these injuries, so he decided to take the time to try and understand this status thing a bit more.

For one, his stats had all improved to varying degrees, except for intelligence. He supposed this game-like logic made a certain amount of sense; his Strength and Acuity improved from the fight itself, wrestling with it and trying to react to its lightning-fast movements -- while his Constitution and Will probably improved due to powering through all that pain. The fact that his Constitution had improved by more than double his next best improvement supported his theory, considering most of the fight consisted of Symon just getting bitten, scratched, and stung.

He'd used up all his vitality, but for once he was glad he'd been wrong -- it wasn't as simple as dying when you ran out of vitality, like a health bar in a video game. From reading their descriptions, it was clear that his abilities were linked. Seize had, well, seized the vitality from the centipede while he was fighting for his life, filling his vessel up like a battery. Then, the oddly named Idealise had tried to return him to a "peak state", namely one without a bunch of extra holes and venom in him.

He must have gotten the poison resistance then, as his vitality was used to fight off the venom. He was grateful that the magic didn't seem to differentiate between the two, now he was at least partially protected from both venomous insects and poisonous food.

This must have drained all the vitality from his vessel, but it was enough to stop him from bleeding out, even if he was still pretty beat up.

That was it for the changes, as his Titles hadn't changed at all. Symon doubted he could glean any new information just by reading through his status, although he still had many questions, chief among them being just what the numbers next to his statistics meant. Was a 0.91 Constitution good? Before he'd... died, his illness had been mostly silent; he'd been the healthiest he could ever remember being.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

After waking up in this new world, there'd been no creeping feelings of unease, no nausea or muscle weakness that he'd come to associate with his illness. Did his comparatively high Constitution cure him, or was it higher than the other stats because he'd been sick and persevered so long?

It would explain will being so high, at least. It ain't easy being an optimist when you were supposed to die young.

He figured he'd rested his body enough while going through his status, so he thanked the sand for its help and set his eyes back on his original goal -- climbing this dune and using the vantage to look for anything except for more rolling dunes. Fearful of more centipedes showing up, he pulled out a couple of the claw legs from his defeated foe, and used them to cut off one of the creature's mandibles. It could be generously described as a makeshift kukri, but Symon was just happy to have something to defend himself with regardless of how cumbersome to use it might be -- it would be better than shredding his fist on spiny plating.

As he began limping his way up past where the centipede had initially ambushed him, keeping a closer eye on the sand this time, he had a grim thought; what if he wasn't cured of his illness? What if his healing magic would have to fight it for the rest of his life? He shrugged and did his best to focus on his hike, this would be a future problem either way and he really didn't want another centipede getting the jump on him. He looked down at the chalice on his hand. It was completely empty.

Hey, maybe I'll be the first person to unlock cancer resistance.

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It took Symon almost an hour to get to the summit of the dune. It should have taken only half that time, but he was starting to think that his vessel had been drained to fight off the paralytic first, leading to his leg and stomach getting barely any healing. They weren't bleeding, but it hurt, only made worse by needing to be used. Still, he found it a better alternative to dying of thirst if he waited for his body to recover more.

What he saw from his new vantage point made it worth the effort of reaching it; far to the North, he saw what could only be a small cluster of trees with some brown grass. He couldn't see anything else new, no roads or trails, no creatures or even any signs of them. The shifting sands would rapidly cover any tracks left behind anyway, but it was still unnerving to see nothing but featureless white sand for almost as far as he could see. He had a destination in mind at least, if there were trees there would be water, and maybe even civilisation if he was lucky.

----------------------------------------

As Symon walked, he experimented with his powers. He knew that if he was going to survive this desert, he'd need to make heavy use of them. It felt odd to trust in magic after a lifetime of mundanity, but his abilities had already proven themself by saving his life. They'd levelled up too, although the sand refused to elaborate on what that actually meant.

They were better, obviously, but Symon wasn't sure in what way. There was no way to test his healing without any vitality to use, but he could experiment with Seize. The sand had told him that the ability was automatic, but he didn't think it was that simple. It drained the centipede without any effort, or even any awareness, on Symon's part, but if it was truly automatic why was it under the Abilities section and not the Passive? That implied that he had at least some form of control over it...

Well, there's no one around to laugh at me if this doesn't work.

Symon pointed a hand out and confidently proclaimed "Seize!" For a second, it felt like nothing happened, but suddenly he felt ice in his chest, like he'd just taken a deep breathe on a frosty morning. It wasn't painful, but it was very odd considering he hadn't felt anything close to cold in this desert. In a flash, this feeling of ice spread down from his chest to his outstretched hand.

He jerked slightly but continued to hold his hand out, but nothing happened even after waiting. Embarrassed even despite the lack of an audience, he dropped his hand only to notice something trail slightly behind it. It was so thin that it would probably have been impossible to see, if not for the fact that its dark grey colouration contrasted with the white sand. Symon thought it looked a lot like a little worm that was borrowing into his hand, and reacted instinctively.

"Shit, not again!" he shouted while swinging his hand around. The thing didn't get dislodged, so he tried slapping at it only for his hand to pass through it with that same icy feeling.

Oh, I see... It wasn't a creature borrowing into him, it was his magic leaving, looking for vitality. He held his palm up to his face, and watched as the little grey thread wiggled around. At first he thought it was blowing in the breeze, but instead it swayed under its own power. Under his own power. With a thought, the thread retreated back down before popping out of his outstretched finger.

He reasoned that the healing from Idealise probably worked the same way, it would do its own thing but he could also take direct control, not that he was able to test this assumption without any vitality. Still, it would be good to keep in mind for the next time a paralytic was shutting down his heart and lungs.

He was beat up so bad he could barely walk, the suns were absolutely cooking him, his destination was so far away he had no idea how long it would take to reach, and nightfall was rapidly approaching. He had no food, no water, no shelter, and absolutely no clue where he was.

But he had magic, and that might just be enough.

He petted his pocket with the centipede mandible in it, and made the grey thread appear from his other hand. Next time he found a centipede, the fight would go differently. He swore it.