Larry sat alone between the grasses and trees of the forest. With closed eyes he concentrated on his mind. He suppressed all intelligent thought that tried to bubble to the surface of his consciousness and meditated solely on the emptiness that was left behind when words didn’t race through his head.

The silence in his head made him more receptive towards the sounds of his surroundings. Bugs buzzed by his head and the occasional critter rattled through bushes. Birds sang. The sounds of the forest made it harder for him to keep still. The last few days had been filled with fights and excitement, and now that Larry had a moment to himself, in complete stillness, he grew anxious. Rationally, he knew that no beast would jump out off its hiding spot and rip his head off, but the fear still persisted. Every sound felt like it could be a beast sneaking up on him, every rattling a Bone Knight that approached. Larry focused his mind again, casting aside these fear. They would only weigh him down, if he didn’t learn how to control them.

Melissa had taught him about magic. Usually, if he was an ordinary human, he would need something Malissa had called a catalyst to unlock his magic potential. But since he was undead, he, for all intends and purposes, had skipped that step. The magic of the curse was already flowing through him like a mighty river, its powerful magic corrupting him, if he wanted it or not. The only thing he needed to do, was to find this metaphorical river and take some of its power, forming it into a spell. Larry opened his eyes and reached out with his arm. He let go of his thoughts and the emptiness filled his mind.

Directly in front of him, a falling leaf stood still in the air, held firmly in place by Larry’s magic. He grinned happily at his success, and the magic dissipated completely, disrupted by his emotions. Magic wasn’t easy to use. He still hadn’t learned a single spell, and the only type of magic he could currently use was an incredibly weak form of telekinesis, the only type of magic literally ever mage could control. But telekinesis worked only when one’s mind was absolutely empty of thought, which made it almost impossible to use in combat. Larry needed a spell.

The problem was, spells couldn’t just be learned by meditating. A ritual was needed, and a ritual required ingredients that Larry could only acquire in a town. It was time to finally leave this forest. He walked back to Jorg and Melissa. The two were resting, their mortal bodies not able to keep up with Larry’s now seemingly endless stamina. He smiled below his hood. Since when was he calling normal people “mortal”?

They continued walking for the rest of the day, only stopping when the daylight grew dimmer. It was getting closer to night. They hadn’t reached a road yet, but Melissa insisted that she knew the way, and since Jorg and Larry didn’t have any other choice, they had to believe her. Larry looked at the sky. It was getting darker, which meant that at some point in the next few hours, his Regeneration would jump from 0 to 53. He wiggled with his fingers in excitement. He was practically overflowing with curiosity.

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Jorg watched as Larry disappeared back in the forest. A few days ago he had met the boy in the Coin’s Rest, a small pub which belonged to his cousin Olivia. With his thin cloth and confused attitude, Larry had looked like a regular beggar.

Now Jorg knew that Larry wasn’t regular at all. The kid had told him that he was an orphan, and while at first glance that may look like the truth, Jorg knew it was a lie. Jorg knew Larry  had grown up with proper education, because his mother was a teacher for the children of richer people. Larry might say he is an orphan, but that simply had to be a lie. The problem was, Jorg didn’t know what the truth was. It confused him. Why would someone as young as him try to hide his past?

Over the last few day Larry had killed a beast that Jorg guessed was a least Level 30, and fought off a Knight of Bones, a strong undead summon. When Larry had sacrificed his own arm to kill the beast, and as a consequence had saved Jorg’s life, he had unknowingly bound them together with Meaning. Jorg had owed his life to Larry, that was, until he had saved Larry’s life after the fight with the mages.

Now Jorg’s debt was erased, and the Meaning barely connected them anymore. Jorg could probably leave without fearing much repercussion. But he didn’t want to. He had seen how the boy sacrificed everything to crush his enemies, how he gave so much away to win, yet never seemed to regret. It was like Larry would rather destroy himself than give up. Jorg had a suspicion in what direction his life would head, if he stayed with Larry.

Jorg wasn’t the smartest man, he knew. He never was good at numbers or letters. Sometimes he had listened to the lessons his mother had given the smarter kids, and one of the few things that had interested him was Meaning. His mother used to say he had a feeling for it. It was true. And right now, Jorg felt clearly that his life was at a crossroad, one way leading away from Larry, and one way towards. He knew where this was going.

It was going to be a Story.

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Larry sat in darkness, the night flowing into him like a cold shower on a hot summer day. It filled him, crawling beneath his skin, and through the fibers of his muscles, right into his heart, which sucked in the darkness like an endless void. From one moment to the other, when the sun had disappeared behind the horizon, he had felt the difference in Regeneration. His skin crawled as every wound, every tiny scratch or bruise healed with incredible speed, leaving behind no sign he was ever hurt. He bit into his thumb, watching as red strings reached out to each other and pulled his flesh back together.

He felt the night wash over his scars, not healing them completely, but turning the scars smoother, almost like normal skin. The pale, red color remained, but much of the ugliness was erased. He tested his body and realized just how much the previously twisted scars had pulled at his skin, limiting his movement. He smiled. He felt the power and confidence that was given to him by the night.

And then, there was something else. When he fought the beast, his right arm had been cut off right above his elbow, leaving behind a useless stump. At the end of this stumb, Larry felt a dull pressure. He took of his robe and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. His eyes went wide.

Out of the stump, where his skin had grown together and healed, a black bone pushed itself through. There was no pain, only an uncomfortable squeezing. For the rest of the night, Larry watched the bone grow, disregarding sleep completely.