From one moment to the next, I was awake.

This wasn’t the gentle awakening of regular rest or even the abrupt rousing I sometimes experienced from my nightmares.

No, it felt like I had been shocked out of a coma.

My back arced off of the stone slab I felt like I was resting on, my eyes flying open abruptly. I sucked in a strangled gasp at the same time, not parsing my surroundings for multiple reasons.

The biggest being that I couldn’t see out of my right eye. For a moment, I wondered if something was covering it. But no, when I weakly reached up to touch my face, I found it bare. I was too addled to understand what was going on, and thus let my gaze limply take in my surroundings.

My conversation with Tlazo in the depths of my soul was coming back to me now, and I wasn’t surprised to find myself in the semi-recognizable setting of the Lich’s lab.

Only…it was much busier.

I hadn’t been able to tell how many ‘assistants’ the undead had on my last visit, but I didn’t think there were this many. Rows and rows of undead orcs were assembled in the cavern in which the lab resided, arranged in a nearly military format. There were hundreds of the things, and it looked to me that more were arriving every moment. I watched as a group of dusty undead Orcs shuffled their way into the large cavern from the entrance we had used what felt like only a few days ago. They entered with a mindless gait and glowing blue eyes, only for that to change after passing some threshold.

They fell under the control of Tlazo, affecting a military stride and gaining a green glow to their empty sockets.

Tlazo was emptying the catacombs to assemble an army.

I guess he was going to keep his word. It only took being strongarmed by a Greater Spirit to do it.

I was knocked out of my observations by a furry feeling hand falling on my shoulder. Looking up, I found a bandaged Dusk looking down at me. My compatriot looked as rough as I felt, with exhaustion and despair evident in her posture. And yet, she didn’t seem broken. There was an almost desperate determination I could see in her…

Ah.

Her single remaining eye.

That’s right. Nerexxa had torn out her left one. There was a bloody bandage wound around her furred head, hiding what must be the empty socket.

Dusk noticed my inspection but didn’t comment on it. Instead, she just extended her hand down to me without a word. I gratefully took it, allowing the Gnoll woman to lever me into a sitting position. I slumped over when I was upright, resting my forearms on my knees, and looked back up at Dusk.

No.

She was Liora, now. The Nocturne Division was finished.

I had to let go of that.

“What’s going on?” I asked her, my gaze drifting behind her back. Over her shoulder, I saw a bloodied and battered Baldric speaking to a visibly glowing Tlazo, a grim look on his face. The Lich was emitting an eerie green glow and seemed to be directing his gathering forces with waves of his hands, multitasking in the midst of his talk with the dwarf. Floating in mid-air at his side was a long staff of pitch-black wood, gnarled and holding what looked to be a rough amber crystal at its peak.

I paused, for a moment, when I saw Thirty-Two standing off to the side not far from us, arms wrapped around herself in a near hug. The young woman looked…lost, frightened, and as if she had just barely escaped death herself. And she might have, judging from the bandages I could see on her adolescent form.

I studiously tried not to look at the cloth-covered slab not far from me, where a large frame seemed to be resting.

I knew who that had to be.

But…

“Where’s Sylvia?” I said slowly, my breath hitching in my throat.

Liora studied me for a moment, before jerking her head at another corner of the lab that I had missed. I followed her gaze to find a still, silvery form lying motionless on a slab. For a moment, vertigo nearly overtook me at the possibility that after all of what I had done, I’d still failed one of the most important people in my life.

But no. I remembered how Tlazo had told me that I’d saved her life, in the depths of my soul.

So…what was wrong with her?

I tried to stumble to my feet to find out and nearly fell face-first onto the rough stone of the slab from a surge of weakness. Liora caught me just in time, though, and helped me to sit back down on my own slab.

“She’s alive if that’s what you’re after,” Liora answered tiredly. “But…she seems to be in a coma, or something equivalent for a Sculpted. The Lich doesn’t know what’s wrong with her, just that her soul isn’t in danger of collapsing.” She sighed, letting her single eye wander over the gathering undead forces. “Our best guess is that Greycton is going to have to examine her, to find out what’s wrong. But she’ll hold down here, for now. We…have bigger problems, Hangman.”

I looked up and met her eye. “Nathan. Just…Nathan. It’s over, Liora.”

Said singular eye closed for a moment, and then she nodded. I thought I saw a tear escape her, but I didn’t comment on it.

I wasn’t a complete monster, after all.

Silence descended on us for a moment before I broke it. I had my own questions, after all.

My hand drifted up to rest on my still-unseeing right eye. I had thought it was just temporary blindness from waking up, but…I was rethinking that, now.

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

“What’s wrong with me?” I asked aloud, not exactly expecting an answer from Liora.

And I didn’t get one from her.

“You suffered a massive brain hemorrhage, that’s what,” A dusty voice answered me. Tlazo and Baldric’s conversation seemed to have stopped, and the two of them were approaching Liora and I. “I don’t have time for a full exploratory cranial surgery to find out exactly what you did, saving Grecyton’s daughter. But my initial assessment is that there you appear to have suffered some brain damage.”

Hemorrhage? Brain damage?

That…that really wasn’t good…

My head was finally clearing from my abrupt awakening, and I was just now starting to notice that I couldn’t feel something important. Something that had cut out, just at the end of my treatment of Sylvia.

The middle thought ring that Ringed Mind granted me.

There was a noticeable absence in my thought patterns where it should be. It wasn’t like I only had two rings anymore. It was like…I could feel the void in the Talent where the middle ring should be running.

It was beyond disconcerting. My thoughts felt slow and sluggish after so long spent with the ability constantly running.

Not only that, but…I had apparently lost sight in one of my eyes…

Without even having to ask, Baldric wordlessly withdrew a tiny bronze mirror from inside his armor and handed it to me. I raised it up to look at my face and felt a chill running down my spine.

My normally emerald green right eye had gone cloudy and unfocused. The pupil still seemed to be reacting to light, but…it wasn’t picking up anything.

I was half blind, now.

And that was on top of being back to having only one arm.

I felt a hysterical laugh bubbling up inside of myself, and almost instinctually tried to clamp down on it with my middle ring.

But that was gone, and so it came out.

My…unhinged laughter rang in the cavern, drawing concerned looks from those who cared. Tlazo didn’t seem to, though. He just kept speaking.

“The dwarf and I have conferred,” He said dryly. “And I have informed him of my obligation to destroy the bloodsucker. As such-”

“We’re going back out there,” Baldric cut in, exhausted determination in his voice. I noticed that it was different, though. Raspier, somehow. And I bet it had something to do with the massive new scar that was evident on his throat, from where Nerexxa had nearly torn it out. “Tlazo will focus on rooting out the Vampire, while we…we’ll have to try and rally a defense against this ‘Godbound’.”

I see Tlazo hadn’t wasted any time on informing the others about what we were facing. For the first time since I’d met Baldric, I saw a note of very real trepidation on his bearded face. It almost looked like…terror to me.

I didn’t blame him. I wasn’t even a Veredenese native, so I didn’t have the cultural fear of Calamities they did, and I was still petrified about this thing.

Whatever the hell it was.

Thirty-Two wandered up then, finally deciding to join the conversation. “We have no hope against a Calamity,” She said bluntly, her voice quavering slightly. I guess her bravado had finally worn off. “We should wait for Headmaster Greycton to arrive. He’s one of the only people on the planet who has a chance, and he…should be coming.”

I took a deep breath, and finally stood up from the slab. “He is,” I said, already emotionally exhausted. “I…heard from someone with a line to him that he’s coming. But it doesn’t matter,” I said, cutting off any questions I could see brewing on some faces. “He won’t get here quickly enough. The Godbound is going to finish attuning the Portal Stone to…Azul, and then Ixiah will be on Vereden if we don’t act now. Then…then it’s really over.”

Thirty-Two deflated then, drawing Baldric’s attention. He eyed her for a moment, before sighing.

“Isolde,” He said firmly, causing Thirty-Two to jerk slightly in shock, drawing her attention. “It might be a good idea for you to sit this one out. I…don’t know how this is going to go, and even if we win, you’re not strong enough to make much of a difference. You could die very easily out there. And I don’t want to be the one to explain to King-Elect Oskar that his only sister died pointlessly.”

I didn’t even feel shock as my own suspicions about ‘Thirty-Two’ were confirmed. I didn’t know her circumstances, but I had already thought she was part of the Royal Family, just from her appearance alone. She looked too much like Oscar to be anything else. Still, I hadn’t expected such a close relationship as being his sister.

But none of that mattered right now.

We had things to do.

As Isolde looked away in shame, I accepted a length of bandage from Liora and wound it around my dead eye, in a reversed mirror to what she had over her own. “Isolde,” I said, drawing her attention. I did my best to be kind to the teenager who had been a rival spy only a day ago. “Why don’t you stay down here and watch over Sylvia? I’m sure Headmaster Greycton will be grateful to you for looking after his daughter.”

Isolde looked back down and gave a tiny nod, before wandering away.

I guess she was pragmatic enough to accept an excuse to sit this one out when it was given.

Well. That…was easier than I was expecting. At least that was one problem sorted.

“If you’re all finished,” Tlazo said impatiently. “Then I’m done gathering my strike force. You should finish preparing yourself because I have no idea what’s going on up there. The Aetherial density has grown to the extent my attempts at scrying have failed. I have a small armory over…that a way,” He waved a hand absentmindedly at a corner of the lab, where I could see some pretty empty-looking racks. I think his undead forces had already cleaned them out, for the most part. “Help yourself to what’s left and…prepare yourself for your likely death, I suppose.” With that apathetic statement, the Lich floated away to inspect his gathered undead.

Baldric, Liora, and I stood around silently for a moment before Baldric cleared his throat. “Hart, do you mind…giving Liora and I a moment?” He said semi-awkwardly. Liora looked away, but didn’t protest.

Ah.

I understood. Time for that adoptive grandfather and granddaughter talk, on the eve of battle.

I nodded and walked away. I had my own goodbyes to say.

First, though, I approached the rack of weapons and grabbed one of the only things left.

A single dagger, hewn from bone. I would have liked to take the spear on the rack, but I didn’t trust myself to wield it well with only one arm. It was a bit too long, compared to the extended forms of my Oninite blades.

I wondered if I would ever find those again.

I shoved it into my dirt-encrusted belt and walked over to where Sylvia was resting quietly. I gave the nearby Isolde a small nod, but didn’t acknowledge her otherwise. Still, the girl had enough tact to give us some space, while I said my goodbyes.

Sylvia looked…peaceful, I suppose.

I was tempted to lift the sheet covering her resting form from the neck down in order to check on my patch. But the idea of it felt vulgar, somehow. Like I would be peeping on her.

I sighed. “At least you have a chance to make it out of this,” I said quietly, gazing down at her. I sat down on the lip of the slab she was on, and absentmindedly lay my one hand on hers, peeking out of the sheet. “We might not see each other again, you know. This…well.” I laughed mirthlessly. “I’m supposed to go up there and deal with the Calamity. At least according to Elys, that is.” I looked down at Sylvia, rubbing my thumb over the back of her limp, cool hand. “We’ll see if I can do it. I…I almost don’t even care, if I survive. So much has happened…”

I trailed off, staring off into space for a moment.

“So much…” I whispered, before looking down at her again. “If I don’t make it…well. I just want you to know…,” I slumped, closing my eyes. "Oh, what's the point? You...you can't hear me. But...even still..."

I sighed, but still managed to gather enough will to lean in close to my comatose lover's ear. With my mouth only inches away from it, I whispered three words, meant only for her.

Despite everything, and despite the fact she probably couldn’t hear me…

I still felt better.

I sat there, holding Sylvia’s hand until Baldric and Liora were done with their own little moment and motioned me over.

With one last glance at the resting Sculpted woman, I stood up and approached them.

It was do-or-die time, I suppose.

Emphasis on the die.