He woke up.

His eyes opened but he couldn't discern anything from the darkness that surrounded him. He felt weightless, numb to sensation. This wasn’t what all the other times felt like.

Had he failed to come back to life this time?

Was this death?

A faint groan escaped his lips and he tried to move, but the pain that shot through his body made him second guess his actions. After so many deaths, he considered pain normal, but this was ridiculously bad. He had faced many challenges in his past lives, but this was the hardest start by far.

Slowly, he managed to sit up. He couldn't see anything, and his mind was foggy. Memories and sensations from his previous lives flashed through his mind, but nothing made sense.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and a warm light flooded the room. Someone steadied him. The hands that touched him were gentle and reassuring, but he couldn't recognize the voice that spoke to him.

"Lucian? Can you hear me?"

He strained his ears, trying to place the voice, but it eluded him.

"Who?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

The voice hesitated.

Wait, the person called him Lucian. Lucian. That was his name. He was Lucian, and not some nameless orphan? Did that mean…

"I’m alive?" he asked, his voice shaking.

The person beside him didn't respond for a moment, making him second guess himself. But then, with a choking voice, the person confirmed his suspicion.

"Yes, Lucian, you're alive."

Lucian couldn’t believe it. Relief flooded his entire body and he laughed in astonishment.

And then, he realized who could be talking to him.

"Mom? Is that you?” he asked hesitantly.

A pair of warm arms wrapped around him, and he felt like he was finally home.

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

Lucian drifted in and out of consciousness for what felt like an eternity. The wound on his arm was as bad as it gets, and he had lost a significant amount of blood. Yet, despite all that, he was slowly but surely on the mend.

After many days of intensive care, Lucian finally had the strength to get up and walk. His parents had turned their own room into an infirmary, so the walk to the living room wasn't as long as it usually was. He collapsed into a chair and looked at the people in front of him.

His mother had a supportive smile on her face, proud of how far he had come. His father was holding back tears, regretful that he wasn't there to protect him. And there was also Dr. Conwel, the town physician, who had been a constant presence in their home, checking up on his progress every few hours.

"You look good, Lucian," Dr. Conwel commented with a gentle smile.

"Thanks to you, Doctor. And the Bishop. I owe you my life," Lucian replied, feeling grateful for their help.

His father had run to the capital and somehow brought back a holy bishop, who had cast a high level healing spell on him. The bishop's intervention, along with Dr. Conwel's thorough care, saved his life.

"Don't be too humble," the doctor remarked. "It would have been impossible if you hadn't used your shirt to create a tourniquet. You are a truly exceptional young man. Despite having only one arm and multiple broken ribs, you managed to carry your sister to safety. Your tenacity is truly admirable."

Lucian felt his cheeks flush at the doctor's words. Even in his previous lives as a soldier or lawyer, he rarely received such genuine praise.

"It's a shame we couldn't reattach your arm," Doctor Conwel added with a shake of his head. "My expertise was lacking. I apologize."

Lucian looked down at the remaining half of his right arm, feeling a strange sense of emptiness. He had made the sacrifice fully knowing the repercussions, but it was still hard to fathom that it was truly gone.

"I won't accept an apology from someone who helped save my life," he replied. "I'm more focused on what you did, rather than the impossible."

His father spoke up, "I befriended a group of Nuno, forest dwarfs, a decade or so ago. I'll see if I can find where those bastards have been sleeping. Dwarves make good prosthetics."

"Dear, don't swear in front of the doctor," his mother scolded with a tight smile, making his father shiver.

"Mountain dwarfs are especially hot tempered, so Nuno's are a better choice," Dr. Conwel explained. "The craftsmanship is certainly better in the mountains, but any option is a good option."

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They discussed the idea of prosthetics at length, considering their viability and potential.

The answer he got on whether they were viable or not was maybe. Magic is omnipotent, but applying it to technology wasn’t something that the world was advanced in. Dwarves, giants and certain elf tribes all created different types of prosthetics with varying effects, but there was no set standard.

That did not make Lucian any less hopeful for the future. He was already interested in combining magic and technology, so losing his arm would only motivate him further.

He saw incredible prosthetics during his third life in supernatural England. If he could replicate even half of what remembered then he would be perfectly fine.

He didn't necessarily need an arm, anyways. He had planned on avoiding fights as much as possible to begin with, and there were plenty of job options that didn't require fighting. However, he couldn't shake the desire to feel somewhat whole again, and he also wanted to be able to fight to the best of his ability.

His original plans had changed. Lucian didn't want to be a slave to his fighting nature, and thought that removing himself from any idea of fighting was the right move. But he regretted not training and preparing himself. If he had even attempted to reobtain the strength of this third life, he could have fought those cougars by himself.

He almost lost his family because of that.

He realized that he had to be strong to protect his way of life. With a sister like Eleanor, who clearly had grand aspirations, he had to become just as strong in order to keep an eye on her.

Speaking of Eleanor, he hadn't seen her since he woke up. She had been hiding in their room for days. Lucian knew why, but that was irrelevant to him. All that mattered to him was that they both made it out alive.

Leaving his parents with Dr. Conwell, Lucian made his way outside and around the side of the house to the window of their room. Glancing in, he saw his sister, Eleanor, laying in bed in prime moping form.

He knew she was down in the dumps, but this was worse than he thought.

He kicked the window open and jumped into the room. Eleanor quickly sat up, surprised, but before she could get the blanket off, Lucian tackled her.

“Hey!” she screamed as Lucian wrapped the blanket around her face. “Stop!”

"Geez, sis," he said with a grin. "You smell horrible! When was the last time you took a bath?"

"Leave me alone," Eleanor grumbled.

“Wow. Your breath might actually kill me,” he teased, causing Eleanor to snap.

Instinctively, Eleanor's hand flew out and slapped the back of Lucian's head. He yelped at the sudden contact but couldn’t help but laugh at how easy it was to tease her.

Eleanor gasped right after she hit him and quickly grabbed his head and patted it as if that would heal him.

“Are you alright?” she asked frantically.

"I'm fine," Lucian tried to assure her, but his words fell on deaf ears as she started assessing his condition.

She must have seen him bloody and dying before the bishop arrived. Eleanor's eyes were filled with horror as she checked him for injuries.

"I look pretty good, right?" he asked lightheartedly.

Eleanor checked his neck, then chest, then back, before looking at the space where his arm used to be.

A dismayed whine came out of her. It startled Lucian how weak and broken she sounded. She closed her eyes and turned her head away.

It was silent for a few moments.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered quietly, her voice laced with shame.

“Sis, I-” Lucian started to say, but Eleanor interrupted him.

“I’m sorry!” she cried, eyes shut tightly. “I failed you.”

"You didn't fail anyone," he assured as he put his remaining hand on her shoulder. "It was my idea and you warned me. Besides, I would have been hopelessly outmatched if you weren’t there."

“It’s my fault,” Eleanor lamented, “it's all my fault. I knew there was danger in the woods. I had a quest, but I still wasn’t ready! I lost my composure. I was so underleveled compared to them. I should’ve known.”

"Quest? What does that mean?" Lucian asked curiously.

“I wasn't strong enough," she went on, either ignoring or not hearing his question.

“In terms of raw power and magical ability, the cougars were definitely on a different level,” he agreed, “but there was no way to predict they would be there. Dad said he’s never heard of animals casting spells in Tyre. It was just bad luck.”

“I should have been better prepared.”

Lucian gave a knowing nod, sharing that same thought with her.

"Well, we made it out alive. That's all that matters," he said with a small smile.

She frowned and looked away, unable to meet his eyes.

As they sat in silence, Lucian's mind raced with thoughts of what he could say to make things better. He knew they both made mistakes, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was mostly responsible.

Eleanor had failed to sense the cougars until it was too late, but Lucian didn't blame her entirely. The cougars were skilled at hiding their mana, and only Lucian's special senses had allowed him to detect them. If he had taken the time to assess his surroundings earlier, things might have turned out differently.

In the fight, Lucian had held Eleanor back, stalling while she fought straight up. He got a few hits in, but he was outmatched. Despite their young age, they both had their limits. It was remarkable that Eleanor had been able to kill one.

Finally, Lucian broke the silence.

"Eleanor," he said, his voice soft and apologetic.

She opened her eyes and looked at him.

Lucian embraced her tightly, feeling her stiffen at first, but eventually relax and hug him back. She held him tightly, her body shaking with emotion.

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” Lucian said sincerely. “It doesn't matter if you're stronger than me or not. You're my sister, and I'd do anything to protect you.”

Eleanor buried her head into Lucian's shoulder, and he could feel her warm tears soaking through his shirt.

“I was scared,” she whispered.

"I wasn't scared at all," Lucian lied with a grin. "Big bro never gets scared."

Eleanor lifted her head and let out a gentle laugh. Lucian felt a wave of relief wash over him as she offered him a small, comforting smile.

“Thanks for saving me… big bro,” she said, her voice full of love and gratitude.