Humming. Her eardrums swing in tune with the odd static around her. Slowly, like tar in a bowl, her thoughts gather.

‘what? Is…this a dream?’ she thinks as an inky veil black lies over her eyes.

‘Wait am I blind?! -ah, my eyelids are closed’ A small smile of relief spreads on her lips. She slowly opens her eyes. Her thoughts start to race, like a beehive set on fire. Wild burning, as every and every shape imaginable, in all and every color is burned into her mind, she could feel her sanity being torn apart like a piece of meat by wolves.

Immediately she presses her eyes shut, her heart drumming against her chest.

‘What was that!? Shit, what kind of nightmare is this? They get worse by the day… by the night? Whatever, I just want to wake up at this point…’

She moves her arm to pinch herself. Nothing. It is as if her arms are there in theory, but practically it just feels like there is nothing, as if her limbs are just a void she can move around.

‘Just great. Guess I’ll wait then. I doubt this will be a very restful sleep. And schools tomorrow too

Ughhhhhhh’

So she waits, and waits some more, and then some, and the hours pass...

‘Okay this is taking too long. But I can’t open my eyes either so what do I do… wait I haven’t tried talking!’ she clears her throat.

“Hellooo?” to her delight and confusion, her voice actually comes out of her throat. But except for the oppressing silence, nothing responds. Any word she speaks is soaked up like a sponge by the vastness of whatever was around her.

“Hellooooo?”

A moment passes… A while passes. She’s about to shout, but before she can, an ethereal voice ,resounding from every direction around her, cuts her off.

“Yes, Yes, Yes, I’m here at last, rejoice human!” the male, otherworldly voice says, tickling her brain in an oddly pleasant way. It sounds somewhat playful if a bit arrogant. She can practically see the smug grin of whoever is talking.

“Oh finally! Who are you?” she asks.

“Well, you may be awed, for it is I, the God of flesh in the flesh!”

“… I’m sorry, the what?”

A tongue click resounds through the space.

“The god of flesh? Ah, another one who doesn’t know my magnificence. Well, let’s hurry this along then. You died, and have the greatest of lucks human, you will be reincarnated by the god of flesh personally! Isn’t that just-”

“What do you mean I died!?” she shouts, surprised by her outburst. This is just a dream after all, she knows it is, must be, but still something deep in her soul stirs uncomfortably.

‘What happened yesterday again uh… I… I can’t remember at all. This feels so… no, nonono it’s a dream no matter how real it feels I saw it, all this stuff around me? It can’t be real.’

“Deny it all you want, but you are dead. And do not interrupt me again if you want to keep your vocal cords.” The words resound through the space, a bit threatening now.

She shakes her head.

“Yes yes whatever, I’ll just wait until I wake up and then laugh about this”

A sigh resounds from all around.

“ok let us suppose this is a dream and you didn’t die, which you did-“

“Which I didn’t-”

“-your theoretical death was so damn funny that I will grant you a gift on your way. I will reform your flesh to your liking on your new body, since I am a very generous god”

‘more like narcissistic god… but the offer does sound interesting, might as well make it a fun dream right?’

“So I can remake myself?”

“Exactly. Except for your skeleton, this is the expertise of my brother but alas, he is no fun, unlike me! Also no adding muscles, your death wasn’t funny enough for that”

“Yeah, yeah… so then…”

She starts pondering a little. What has she always wanted? It wasn’t really a lot. Life wasn’t luxurious or anything, but it was alright, and she always looked decent. Nothing special, but a stable seven out of ten as she always liked to think.

“…Can you make me pretty? Like, otherworldly pretty?” she says with nothing better coming to mind.

“Pretty?” the god of flesh says baffled, almost scoffing.

“Yes, pretty! Or smoking hot rather! But not slutty hot, more the elegant, cute hot…” she trails off a bit. Another sigh resounds in all of space.

“Of all the things you could have right now, you ask to be ‘pretty’ “ he says with a wry tone

“…Yes?” she says with a sheepish tone. The god of flesh just sighs.

“Hey, this is my dream, stop judging me!”

After a small eternity of back and forth, a new body was finally agreed upon.

“Well then you shall be reborn now as you wish, a face like the morning glow, skin as fair and smooth as porcelain, deep silver eyes with an orange tint, like a waterfall in dusk. and brown long hair as flowing and gentle as a mild summer wind.”

She nods.

“That sounds perfect, thanks!” she says gleefully.

“Very well! Then all left to do is blank your memories and you are good to go” the god of flesh says satisfied.

“Yes, yes, blank my memories and I am good to- wait what was that?”

But the God of flesh does not answer.

Her mind is slowly overwhelmed with an odd sensation of nothingness, white bleaching out all the parts that made her herself.

“Good luck little human, and have fun ~ ” the god of flesh says and everything went blank in her mind.

The stinging cold, hard stone pressing against her bare back makes for an uncomfortable awakening. She opens her eyes, the sight of the starry night sky greeting her, a cone of dim light falling right on her through a hole in the stone above. A shiver runs through her whole body as a whistling wind makes its way through the cave, beating her skin like a whip. The only other sound was the one of a small stream of water somewhere nearby. A sleek, sticky feeling spreads over her hands as she hugs herself.

“What the fuck!?”

A scream escapes her at the sight of her naked, beautiful, yet blood covered body.

‘Why am I- and where did all the blood come from!?’ She frantically checks all over her body looking for wounds, without results. With the initial shock gone she finally looks around where she is to begin with. The stone below her is a platform, chiseled out of the solid rock. Behind her stands an odd wall with ancient looking symbols carved all over it. Opposite of the wall, at the edge of the slightly elevated platform, she spots what looks like two chests. One made of wood, about normal in size. The other made of stone, two meters long and one wide, about half a meter high with a sliding lid. Beyond the platform a big cavern yawns, stalagmites hang from the ceiling like fangs in the maw of darkness. The only thing separating the platform from the cavern is a small stream of water.

‘What is going on? Who am I again…’ she holds her aching head, the only fuzzy memories she has are slowly fading as well. All that remains are the barebone basics. Speaking, reading, writing, breathing. And enough for her to come to the only valid conclusion: This must be a dream. And so, after a bit of pondering she pinches herself in the side.

‘Ouch’ she just sat there, looking at her hand.

‘…Ouch?’ her blood felt like it was starting to freeze.

‘Why… am I still here’ she pinches again, even harder this time.

‘ C’mon wake up, This isn’t funny’ The pain shoots through her abdomen as she squeezes harder and harder until she is at her limit.

“No… no, no, no! This isn’t REAL!” She shouts into the cave as she keeps pinching herself over and over with all her might, her desperate shouts resounding through the cavern, until her waist has a large blue stain. Her hand drops, her breath and her heart racing as her mind goes into turmoil. It is slowly starting to dawn on her, she has not wanted to admit it at first, but it had been creeping in the back of her head all this time now.

‘This is real’

Her mouth hangs agape as she sits on the cold ground, her brain wracking itself to comprehend the situation. But she has other, more immediate problems. With her teeth clattering, she hugs herself tighter.

‘Shit’ She looks around again. Her gaze stops on the chests. The cold, seeping into her skin from the stone, is urging to stand up and walk over. It was cold enough for some of the blood to freeze on the ground, her skin, frozen to the ground, tearing open as she got up. She takes a few wobbly steps towards the wooden chest. A creak resounds through the cavern as the lid slowly opens, a spider making its escape down the side of the chest.

‘Please be a coat please be a coat’ Her face drops, before her in the chest lies a dusty book, a small bottle with red liquid in it, and an arm sized object covered in so much dust she cannot even recognize it.

‘That’s not a coat’ She sighs, and takes out the unrecognizable thing first. The dust falls off in a small cloud. It scratches her lungs and she coughs a few times, trying to fan away the dust with her hand.

‘Damnit, how long has this been here?‘ She pats down the object, finally giving a glimpse of what was underneath the dust. It is wrapped in old cloth and has the vague shape of a cross.

‘is this …?’ her hands quickened. As the old cloth comes off, a sword greeted her. Still in its sheath, no longer than her forearm-,

And she immediately lets it drop to the floor.

‘~Ahhh, sweet cloth.’ She flaps the dust out furiously before binding the cloth around her as a simple cover for her loin.

‘Hm better than nothing…’ She twists her body, inspecting herself.

‘Ah yes, a sword too…’ She picks up the sword and looks it up and down. She takes the handle and draws the blade. The metal shines, an odd chill running through her right hand.

‘Uck, what’s this feeling? Is this the sword? Weird… or not. How cold is it in here anyways…’ she sheathes the weapon again shivering briefly and looks back into the chest. The book and the small bottle filled with red liquid are still waiting for her to take them.

‘Okay, the bottle has to be a… a what?’ She could have sworn there was a word in her head a moment ago, but now it is gone, blown away in the wind. ‘Well, can’t have been that important then’ ,she thinks with a shrug.

She picks up the small bottle and looks at it. The color is a weak red, the liquid moves a bit thicker than water. She puts it aside for the moment without being able to make any sense of it. It’s too bright for blood but does not look like juice either.

Last is the book. She takes it out, dust spreading as she lifts it, a giant cloud forms as she blows over the old and hardened leather cover. Nothing is written on it. With a shrug she opens it to read its contents. As she lays her eyes on the first letter she freezes, her body not moving as she wills, her brain overflowing with information to the point her own thoughts are drowned by tumult. The book starts to glow and crumble at the edges, and after a second it is nothing more than dust and her body is finally hers again.She collapses to her knees, the nausea taking her like a tidal wave as her stomach turns around.

She dry heaves and coughs with tears in her eyes.

‘What… was that!?’ She lets herself plummet to the ground, curling up as the cold gnaws into her sides, tears stream down her face and she just stays there. Soon the nausea from whatever has happened is gone but that is when reality hits her proper.

‘This is no way a dream.’ The tears feel like molten iron, burning a path through her face.

‘Who the hell am I even?’ Her throat tightens, her heart bound between a thousand threads, about to be sliced into tiny pieces as reality bores into her more and more.

So she just lies there on the ground and weeps, alone in the cold darkness.

The time passes, the blood dries and her skin goes numb, the cold now spreading through her insides. She sniffles and starts getting up again, standing up on shaky legs as she wipes her runny nose. She takes the bottle and her sword with weak hands and trots over to the stone chest. The lid grinds as she pushes it aside with her foot, but a cold shiver running through her spine stops her. Dead eyes stare at her, surrounded by grey, dehydrated skin. It takes her a second to break out of her stupor again and take a step back.

‘Oh no, I opened a coffin, I’m so sorry…’

The old corpse just lies there, a book clasped tightly in its hand above its chest, old plate armor covers most of its upper body, the legs and hip still hidden by the lid.

‘I… I can just take this can I?’ she ponders for a desperate moment, but shakes her head “No… this is not stuff I want anyways.” She rushes over to the other side to push the lid back, closing the coffin.

“Sorry”, she mutters. Her feet shuffle around the floor nervously, her eyes pacing back and forth around the cave, until she finally decides to move again.

‘All I have is the cavern.’ Her eyes squint as she tries to recognize anything in the darkness.

‘Stone, stone, more stone… Is that a door?” She squints her eyes hard, focusing on an odd spot on the blank rock.’ ‘Yes… Yes! there must be a way out if someone built this!’ With a spring in her step she walks off the platform, over a small bridge to cross the stream of water and through the cavern. A swarm of bats made a start right above her, causing her heart to feel funny for a second.

‘Easy there.’ She holds her chest, waiting for her heart to calm again.

‘This is way too much for one day, or rather one hour.’

After a moment she resumes her way to the door. The darkness leaves only little to see, but it is old, wooden, iron around the edges. She grabs the door handle and tears open the door to just leave. She looks down a short hallway, at the end a segmented wall made of stone rings, and not far off the door, right in front of her, stands a person, or rather what used to be one. Old rusty plate armor, a long poleaxe held in both hands, skin grey and wrinkled and tightly hugging the bones and tendons beneath. It looks like a standing corpse, but with the difference that after she has torn the door open in her joy, the noise she has made causes the corpse to slowly turn its head and look at her with its cold, dead stare. Their eyes lock and they just stand there for a few seconds until she slowly closes the door again to take a few steps back.

With a loud crack the large axe head bores itself through the old wood, splinters flying everywhere. Panic settles in as she looks around hastily to find a way out, but the cave is the same as before. The door opens, the horrific creature stepping through, letting out a nerve grating gnarl. She keeps walking backwards, her thoughts racing as fast as her heart. The conclusion she came to was simple: fight. Draw the sword and save yourself, or at least die trying. The corpse was getting faster in its pursuit. She fumbles around but manages to unsheathe the weapon and hold it at the beast. But it is faster than her, and takes a wide swing with the long axe, when suddenly she loses her footing and falls right under the swing, feeling the wind from the blade as it whizzes over her head before she falls into ice cold water. Her heart stings for a moment, the cold creeping right into her bones. The monstrous being just looks down at her and prepares to swing again, and all she can do is watch helpless while her mind is looking for even the smallest spark of hope. The sword is on the floor, she has dropped it, and her mind flashes back to the memory of the book, her hand starting to tingle with heat. Almost like a reflex she raises her hand and points a finger at the undead, energy gathers, a weird sensation she cannot place at all, and it comes right from within herself, her core. Small wisps of flame gather at her fingertip, condensing to a ball of flame in not even a second. And then comes the realization. That’s what the book has done, it has given her magic.

The ball of fire flies off at the swinging undead and hits it right in the chest. A bright flash of light, a wave of heat and a loud bang later, nothing is left, bits of charred corpse flying around the cave. She just blinks in disbelief, but her skin is starting to burn with cold under the water, so she scrambles out onto the floor again. At least most of the blood has washed off, but that is not what her mind is currently preoccupied with.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

‘I JUST SHOT A FUCKING FIREBALL FROM MY FINGER! Holy shit, that’s fucking magic, I can do magic!

... But I still need to get out and I think I’m gonna die. Ahh it’s so cold.’

She hugs herself, shivering, her skin stinging like it was whipped all over. She picks up her sword and looks through the cave for a way out. The door leads to another dead end but so does every other way. Her eyes stop at the only chiseled wall, the one on the platform she woke up on. It is not at the back of the cave, there is some space there she has not seen before between the manmade wall and the barren stone. She gets up, curious and a bit hopeful she goes along the wall until she reaches the end and sees that there really is a narrow set of stairs carved deeper into the stone, hidden in the dark.

‘This ought to be the way then. Finally, I’m freezing, literally.’ She takes the stairs leading upwards, into the pitch-black darkness ahead. The stairs end in an equally narrow hall. At this point she can barely see her own hands which still surprises her, but she just takes whatever would help her without questioning too much for now and keeps going. There is nothing for a bit until she ends up at another dead end. But oddly, from the right wall a lever protrudes.

‘So, this really is the exit then, thank god.’

She grips the lever and pulls it down. The wall in front of her rumbles, dust falls of it as it sinks into the floor, revealing an extension of the hallway. Her hope renewed, she walks on through the dark, until she finally sees the starlight again. In front of her lies a small cave, the exit just a few meters ahead. But what stops her is a large round object in the middle of her path. It is too dark to make out what it is, but it is big, several times larger than she would be if she curled up.

‘Hmm large thing in a cave… Ah probably just a boulder or something.’ She shrugs and walks over, extending her hand to touch it.

‘Huh that’s… fluffy- oh shit!’ Her blood freezes as she pulls back her hand, and the orb starts to move.

‘Shit! What did I just wake up?!’

But just as she thinks it could not get worse, long limbs spread out, large legs and arms, and her breath stops. A large canine head, a yawn revealing the rows of razor-sharp teeth in the long snout. Long arms and legs with long claws at the end. A fluffy tail grows on its back. And covering the whole creature is black fur. For a moment she could swear her heart stopped beating as the silhouette spreads out on front of her, loud steady breathing resounding through the cave. It is sleeping, and her heart dares to beat on with loud thumps against her chest. Her eyes dart between the blessed exit just meters ahead, and the creature sleeping right on the path of her salvation. It takes her a solid few minutes until she gains the courage to move her feet again, slowly making her way around the legs of the creature with as much distance as the cave let her. Each step like an hour, her heart beating so fast it starts to ache as she sneaks around the werewolf.

‘Halfway there, just a bit more and I’m out. Slow and steady wins the race.’ She takes a slow, deep breath with every step, trying to calm her racing heart. It is beating so loud she is afraid it might wake the werewolf. She takes another step when something cold touches her leg. She hears metal sliding over metal, and every bit of her blood freezes, as it falls to the ground in a loud commotion. Like an avalanche a horrific orchestra of metal rattles and clangs right at her feet as she holds her mouth shut. It finally comes to a stop; her eyes are fixed to the werewolf. But all hopes for it to have overheard the ruckus wither as the creature slowly lifts its head with a yawn. She does not take another second to observe and just darts to the exit, in her mind already feeling the claws dig in her back and the teeth bore into her tender flesh. She is about to leave through the hole when she hears something behind her.

“Hey, wait there’s- “But she ignores it and runs. And then finally, she is free at last. Or rather free falling straight down. As she hits the ground, she tries to catch her fall with her hands, but her left wrist gives in. She feels the bones breaking apart, the pain soaring through her body. With a scream of pain she rolls over the ground a bit, holding her hand as she comes to a stop. But the adrenaline helps her focus her thoughts, she still needs to flee after having awoken the monster in the cave, but alas, it is too late as above her, she sees a dark blotch falling down onto her. She closes her eyes and grits her teeth, awaiting a painful death. But it never comes. A fluffy layer of cloth gently lays itself over her and nothing more. She opens an eye to look at the … blanket?

“Gods, you okay down there?”, a deep voice calls out, and the head of the werewolf peaks out from the cave.

“Uh…” She is a bit at a loss for words, but sighs and lets her head fall back onto the ground, looking at the moonless, starry sky.

“No, not really”, she says.

“You won’t eat me, right?” She looks back at the werewolf.

“Gods no, why would I do that?” The werewolf has a deep voice, nice and calming, almost a bit mesmerizing. It jumps down from the cave, landing nimbly next to her.

“You wanna come back up?”, it asks with a raised eyebrow.

“…please” Her voice is quiet and a bit shaky. She is equally scared and a feeling a bit guilty for judging the seemingly nice creature. She roles herself into the blanket and the long arms of the creature picked her up with ease as she yelps in surprise. They jump back up, landing in the cave again. The werewolf sets her down at one of the walls, on a pile of what feels like blankets and furs.

“Hold still, I will give you something for the arm.”, he says and walks off to rummage around the dark cave with loud clattering and clanking.

‘How much stuff does he have in here?’ She tries to see anything in the dark. Only rarely she sees some reflections on metal, but never makes out what it is.

After a while he comes back and holds out a bottle. She slowly takes it, not wanting to be rude in the face of a werewolf. She pulls out the cork with her teeth and takes a smell. It smells good, really good. Sweet and thick, alluring and clouding her brain, sending it somewhere else for a brief moment, and before it can come back, her lips are already touching the bottle, greedily chugging down the liquid. It tastes even better than it has smelled. It is the best thing her tongue ever had the delight of tasting. The whole bottle is gone in no time, she is breathing heavily, having ignored her need for air while drinking.

“Fuck, what was that?”

“Hah, it is just a healing potion. Glad you liked it”, the werewolf snickers.

‘Healing potion…’ She checks her arm, moving it around again.

‘Shit it’s actually whole again! It doesn’t even hurt anymore! Healing potions? Magic? Werewolves? I have no idea what’s going on but I love it. Although this feels familiar… something about… the rim of the sky? The sky’s rim?’ Her head starts aching again as she tries to recall a fading memory.

But a voice snaps her out of her thoughts again.

“Hey? You still with me?”

“Huh? Oh- yeah sorry, just lost in thought. Thank you, my arm feels perfect again, not only that, I generally feel really good, if tired”

“Yes, healing potions do make you sleepy. It’s okay, you can stay the night, you look pretty roughed up.”

“Wait, you want me to sleep here?”

“Yes, I know it’s not super luxurious but it’s cozy. And better than the forest full of wolves or the grave you stumbled in from.”

“Well it’s not about being luxurious but you’re not only a random stranger living in a cave in the woods, but also a werewolf.’

“Now don’t give me that look. I’m not gonna do anything to you, promise” he says.

And while she is still suspicious, she is also tired, really tired, and the werewolf has already gone out if its way to help her so… surely it would not hurt her at this point.

“Uh okay, then if that’s okay I would like to stay here for the night.”

“Sure thing, let’s talk when the sun is up, I’m still tired myself.” A big yawn reveals the sharp fangs in the long snout of the werewolf. He walks over to the opposite end of the cave to lie down again, and a few moments later all she hears is a steady breathing.

‘…Did you just really fall asleep again? With a stranger in your house?’

She sighs as she rolls herself more into the blanket Bawarag threw onto her.

‘I wonder what tomorrow will bring… I wonder who I am’ and with these thoughts she lets herself drift off into sleep.

The sun Is trying to pry its way past her eyelids. She opens them lazily, not really wanting to get up just yet… until it comes back to her that she is sleeping in a cave. With a werewolf. She is pretty awake after that, jolting up to look for the werewolf. He is still sleeping where he was at night. She breathes a sigh of relief, and shortly after, takes a proper look around the cave for the first time. The sight is incredible. It is filled with treasure all around. Golden coins, plates, goblets, trinkets, silken robes, and golden crowns even. Swords, many closed chests too. Pelts of all manners and sorts, and bottles filled with deep red liquid which has a golden shimmer to it, and even bottles filled with what looks like pure liquid gold, her mouth is watering at the mere sight.

‘So that’s what I tripped over yesterday… wait, he didn’t steal all of this right? I’m starting to question my sanity behind the choice of staying here…’

She shakes her head and gets up to look a bit through the treasures. It is very tempting, just sitting there, but she has manners and decides against robbing the towering bipedal wolf with claws as long as her fingers, who also has let her crash at his place.

“Ah, excuse me? You awake?”

“Mhhh…” The werewolf rolls away from her with a groan.

“Ah, I don’t want to be rude but its morning?”

“Ahh noo, not again, I hate morning”, the werewolf grumbles as he turns to look at her again.

“Yes?”, he asks her with sleepy eyes.

“Well, uh, you said we would talk in the morning so…” She shrugged.

“Guess I did, huh?” The werewolf sits up.

“Alright, talk away”, he yawns, the sharp canines glinting in the morning light cause a shudder to creep down her spine.

“Right, first thank you for letting me stay. I slept really well.”

“No problem, but what were you doing in that grave? Fairly sure we sealed that.” He scratches his head.

“Oh, that’s an odd story…” She too scratches her head trying to find the right words.

“Let me guess, the god of flesh?”

Something gets jogged in her head and the faint memory of her encounter flashes back to her. “Oh! How did you know?”

“Your face. That’s flesh magic, looks too good. Nothing any envoy could do”, the werewolf says.

“Ohhh, thanks.” She blushes a bit.

“Wait, so you know about this god? And what’s flesh magic? That sounds horrifying.” She shudders a bit.

“Yes, I do, and don’t worry it’s not a gruesome as it sounds… most of the time. Now I as a werewolf am an envoy of the god of flesh. But that doesn’t really mean much. I don’t hear from that god at all, so I’m free to do whatever.”

“Uhh okay… but does that mean I’m an envoy too?”

“Nah don’t worry, as long as you can’t shift your body into whatever form you want, you just got a little blessing, that’s all.”

‘I mean it’s not like I tried yet…’, she thinks as she tries to make her flesh do something besides nothing. It yields no results, to her relief.

“Alright. So… what now?”

“Well, let’s start where we probably should have.” The werewolf grins.

“My name is Bawarag, nice to meet you.”

“Ah! Of course, sorry, my name is… is…”

‘What do I tell him? I don’t even have a name to give him.’

“I- I don’t know”, she says with a downcast gaze.

“You don’t know?” He raises an eyebrow at her.

“I kind of lost my- well to be more exact, the God of flesh apparently blanked all my personal memories and to be frank: I don’t know who I am.” She slumps against the wall.

The werewolf scratches his head.

“Yes, I can see how that would be trouble… Wanna pick a name for now?”

“I suppose. But I wouldn’t even know where to start. i can’t think of anything good.” She furrows her brows.

“I’m open for ideas.” She looks at Bawarag for help, who hold his chin and ponders.

“Do You remember your birthday?”

“I do not. What date is it anyways?”

“I think it’s the 13th of Sanoris”

“I guess that’s my birthday now.” She shrugs with a deflated expression. But she likes the sound of the word. ‘Sanoris…’

“Where does the name come from?”, she asks.

“Sanoris? It is an old saint after which this cycle has been named”, Bawarag answers.

“Alright then… what do you think of ‘Sanora’? “, she asks Bawarag. He closes his eyes and mulls over her proposal. His lips turn to a smile as he opens his eyes again.

“Sounds good!” He nods.

“Well then, nice to meet you, Sanora. And happy birthday!”, he chuckles, and Sanora blushes a little.

“Well then, what’s your plan from now on?”, Bawarag asks the question Sanora didn’t even know she dreaded.

“Plan? Oh, uhm…” She scratches her head.

“You know what? I have an idea for now.” Bawarag gets up and stars rummaging around the cave for a bit. After a minute he tosses Sanora some clothes. A simple tunic along with an equally simple pair of cloth pants and leather boots.

“There you go, I don’t think anything else I have will fit well”, he says and then turns to look away.

“Heavens, thank you.” Sanora takes the clothes with gratitude, wasting no time.

“This feels so much better”, she says with a relieved sigh, looking at herself in her new attire. It was simple, but along with her new face, in the simplicity lies beauty aplenty, giving the look its very own charm.

“Glad to hear”, Bawarag says and takes a seat next to Sanora.

“So, I don’t know how by the gods you stumbled into that cave, but you should probably search for a way get home or something .”

As Sanora hears those words a lump immediately starts to form in her throat again and her gaze wanders to the ground.

“Oh yeah… about that- “, she starts but Bawarag cuts her off.

“It’s alright, you needn’t say more. I’m sorry”, he says with sincere empathy, shaking his head.

“Thanks… So as you can see, I really have no idea how to go from here”, Sanora sighs, leaning back against some of Bawarag’s stuff. They just sit there for a while in silence until Bawarag comes to some conclusion.

“Alright, leave it to old Bawarag. I’ll give you a push into the right direction “, he says, getting up. Sanora just cocks her head and looks at him curiously.

“I’ll help you getting a proper start around here, at least until you have gotten yourself back into life”, he says and already starts to rummage around the cave again. Sanora gets up to look. She dodges a golden cup flying at her.

“So, what are you thinking of exactly?”, Sanora asks and Bawarag turns around, holding out a leather satchel.

“What I said. I will see you to the next city and that you get a foothold there. Otherwise, my conscious would nag me day and night”,he says as Sanora gingerly takes the rather heavy satchel. A quick look inside reveals a lot of golden coins, and three big bottles filled with a an equally golden liquid.

“Magic or sword?”, Bawarag asks before Sanora can examine the contents of the bag further.

“Huh? I guess neither?”, she says a bit taken aback. But Bawarag just nods.

“So both.”, He nods and again wanders off to rummage and search.

“No, I didn’t mean both! I’ve only used a sword in a real battle once, I only ever had a real battle once! Same with magic!” Sanora, a bit bashful, tries to stop Bawarag from giving her even more things but he is relentless.

“Hmmm. I see, I see…”, he mumbles as he keeps searching. Sanora sighs.

“I can’t possibly accept all this”, she says quietly, looking at the heavy satchel in her hands.

“It’s just collecting dust here anyways. And with that dull old hunk of metal you won’t cut anything, that’s for sure”,Bawarag says as he walks over to Sanora, holding a black longsword.

“Try this will ya?” He holds it out to Sanora who eyes it a bit critically. She hesitates.

“Oh, please just take it lass, this isn’t even the most of my stuff, it’s what didn’t fit in the treasure chamber.” He presses the sword onto her. Sanora just sighs and takes it.

“Thank you- uuwahh!“ Sanora tries to say, but as Bawarag lets go of it, the sword suddenly pulls her down to the floor, planting her face firmly into the ground.

“Ah right, might be a tad too heavy for you.” Bawarag picks up the sword again while Sanora dusts off her face.

“Yeah, I figured. Look can I just pick something myself if not taking anything isn’t an option?” she asks him. Bawarag just shrugs.

“Fine by me”, he nods as Sanora gets up again to look over the pile of stuff strewn all around. Her gaze sweeps overs it, and soon she concludes that this might have not been such a great idea after all. She does not even know where to start looking or what to look for. Sword? Spear? This axe with the overly broad blade? Flail? She roughs through her hair at the seemingly endless possibilities, unable to pick one.

“Having trouble?”, Bawarag asks pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Only a bit, just gimme a minute”, she says holding her chin.

A spear would be the best choice for her as someone wholly unexperienced in combat. Stab and stay far away. A sword was strong, but from experience she knew she sucks with it. And that axe…

“What sort of axe is that?” She scratches her head looking at the large, curved blade.

“It’s called a bardiche. But I reckon it will be too heavy for you”, Bawarag says.

“Yeah, I figured. I was just curious”, Sanora sighs,looking the pile over once again. All these things there look like some great weapons of glorious heroes, quite frankly they were completely out of her league. She scans the pile over and over until her eyes stop on something almost buried all the way in the back. It was the handle of a sword, covered in dust.

“What about that one? Why is it there in the back?” Sanora squints her eyes looking at the sword.

“That one? That’s just junk sold as a treasure. It was said to have been enchanted by the legendary enchanter, but I never really found any enchantment.” Bawarag shrugs. The sword seems simple enough. Made from a black metal, the design is not outstanding or ornate, rather it is a bit minimalistic. The most outstanding feature is that for the handguard it has four metal bars pointing in every cardinal direction. Something inclines Sanora to at least take a look since nothing else has really drawn her attention. She starts to climb over the heap of stuff to pick out the sword.

“I think we’re gonna have the weight problem again though, it’s still narcium”, Bawarag says as Sanora reaches for the sword, but she barely hears him over the clattering of the stuff below her. The sword in buried in gold and silver tableware. It still looks normal to her, so with a shrug and little thought she takes it by the sheath and starts to pull it from the plates and forks. The sheath is as unexciting as the handle, and so is the blade when she draws it to look it over. It is oddly light though and feels just right to hold too.

“Hey this one’s kinda neat.” She turns around to see Bawarag look at her confused.

“Something wrong?” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“Actually yes. You can hold this, and quite easily at that. This shouldn’t be much lighter than the first one I gave you.” He scratches his chin.

Sanora looks down at the sword in her hand. Indeed, it doesn’t feel heavy in the least, but she sheathes it again, stopping herself from taking a test swing inside.

“Alright, I think I will just take this one then.” She climbs back over the pile to Bawarag who nods.

“Sure thing, it’s yours. Guess we’re all set to head out then, just need to get changed now”, Bawarag says, looking at Sanora expectantly, who covers herself a bit despite being dressed.

“I meant armor, don’t give me that look”, Bawarag snorts.

“Let me think… the lightest piece I have should be somewhere over there”,he mumbles and walks off to open a chest. From within he pulls a sleeveless chainmail made of the same black metal, narcium, as seemingly everything else he owns.

“Hey Bawarag, what is this narcium and why do you have so much of it? Is it very common?”, Sanora asks Bawarag who blows the dust off the chain shirt.

“Common? Hardly. It’s the rarest and most precious metal known. And of course, the hardest and most durable too”, Bawarag explains walking over with the shirt.

“Then why do you have so much of it?”, Sanora asks baffled. Bawarag stops in his track briefly.

“That’s a long story. I’ll tell you over something to drink”, he sighs and helps Sanora into the light armor. Although light has been the wrong word, as what feels like at least 15 kilograms suddenly pull down on her whole body.

“How is this bit of metal this heavy!?”, she complains looking down on herself, happy to see that the armor made her look better if anything, at least in her opinion.

“Such is the nature of narcium, but you will learn to appreciate it”, Bawarag says and nods satisfied.

“I think we’re set to leave now. Now I just need to get dressed… You may wait out front.” Bawarag shoots Sanora a smirk.

“Sorry, I’m already gone”, she quickly says, straps the sword to her waist, slings the satchel over her shoulder and makes her way to the exit. She climbs down this time, not overly keen on breaking another hand. Or with the load she was carrying now, all her limbs.

Status:

Inventory:

Tunic, pants, boots.

Narcium chainmail

Narcium sword with ?enchantment

Old sword

Leather satchel [coins 80, ?potion(large) 3x]

Magic:

Fireball, Cast:1