"Well, first," Myri said, moving through the air to get closer to me. "I think I should endeavor to explain a few things to you."

I nodded.

“Sure…yeah, alright…” I said, then I glanced down at myself. "Is there…medicine or something? I have been through the damn wringer, and I dunno how long I'll be able to keep myself upright."

"Oh, Leo!" Myri suddenly erupted, swooping in through the air until it was right up in my face. This close, I could now see etchings on the surface of its rhombus-shaped form. Characters in some language I couldn't discern, looking almost like what I think were called "runes."

They reminded me of Terry, one of the welders at Rollins. He had a bunch of what he called "heritage runes" tattooed all over his body. Nordic ones—said they were…' Odinic,' I think is the term—and were a big part of his personality. Whenever we shared a shift together—which was frequently—I always made sure to bring some earbuds. Mostly because Terry spent the lion's share of his downtime at the shop talking about Norse stuff and its importance, and while it didn't exactly gel with my usual interests, it made conversations with him pretty singularly focused. He also drove a lifted truck that flew a huge Confederate flag and had some pretty suspect opinions about other races, so…I was pretty sure these symbols here weren't the same. Terry was one hell of a fabricator, but fella had some issues.

"Do you require healing?" Myri finished, and I blinked out of my ruminations.

"Uh, yeah, I think I could use a bit of that," I said. "I feel like a swift wind might blow some of my bones away."

Myri's form suddenly sparkled. Was that…excitement?

"You should use this water!" it said.

"Um…which water, Myri?" I wondered. "This whole swamp is probably ninety percent wet." And ten percent murder, I didn't bother to add out loud.

"Oh, the pool the roots of the Ancestral Mangrove touch," the diamond said, continuing to sparkle. I glanced down to the broad basin far below, observing the spot neatly tucked into the tree's base like a grotto.

"Now, pardon my ignorance, here...but that looks a bit mundane," I said. "What's so special about it?"

"This is no ordinary swamp water, Leo. It's a source of healing, enriched by the very essence of the land!"

I peered at the pool again and noticed now how it differed from the murky waters of the swamp I'd been tangling with. The longer I gazed down at it, the more I felt like maybe Myri was on to something. It seemed calm, almost inviting.

"Healing?" I wondered. "Like…" I gestured to myself, "It'll fix all this?"

"It should work quite well," Myri said. "It cannot mend lost limbs, nor can it abolish some of the stronger Galduric curses and ailments—but much of what you might encounter can surely be sorted."

Galduric curses? I chewed on this a bit. That sounded like something…bad. Curses weren't good things, right? The nature of the water, too, seemed strange. I mean, taking a dip in a magic panacea pool was not something anyone outside of Ponce de Leon was rumored to have done on Earth. I needed to remember that my knee-jerk opposition to anything sounding far-fetched was powerfully and professionally skewed now by the wondrous foundation of this world.

But, there was another factor. I hated getting involved in something unknown—I could mention that ad nauseum, and it still wouldn't be enough. Before…well, here, I was pretty hesitant to take any sort of pill or undergo a procedure I'd never encountered before. I'd developed a sciatic condition for a while due to poorly supported footwear and long hours on the concrete floor of Rollins' shop—something my doctor, for once, actually confirmed I had. He'd prescribed me steroids to take care of the pain, but…me being me, I was too concerned about possible adverse effects to actually take them. That was nearly five years ago now, and that bottle of prednisone was still sitting somewhere, unopened, in one of my kitchen drawers back home.

"Will it... hurt?" I asked a little apprehensively, looking from the diamond entity to the pool below and back.

"Oh, what? No! Not in the slightest," Myri replied quickly. "The pain you're likely feeling now is much worse than anything this pool will do to you. It's soothing, healing. But you must know, it's not immediate. Healing takes time."

I hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Alright, I…I guess I'll try it. But if I start to feel anything funky, I'm going to shoot right outta there and never trust you again, you hear?"

"Of course, Leo," Myri said. "But, I would never advise something that would place the last remaining member of Clan Trask in danger."

"Uh-huh," I mumbled. I wasn't sure if I believed that yet. Still, I was mainly worried I would get burned into a skeleton like those teenagers in the hot spring in that volcano movie.

So, I climbed back down the stairs—slowly and carefully, making my way to the magical spring. Myri followed in my wake, floating at my pace without saying much. The Steward of the Bog seemed to know instinctively I was dealing with some trepidation and didn't seem keen to give me a reason to turn around. Once finally approaching the pool, I noticed its clarity more stunningly. It was…well, it definitely looked clean. Likely wouldn't be any flesh-eating bacteria in it—though you never could be too careful. It was another subtle fear of mine, but in the interest of feeling better, I was losing my mettle on resisting this thing if there was even a mild chance it could fix me up so I didn't feel like I was breathing glass through sandpaper. There was a subtle glow beneath the surface of the water as well, unlike anything I'd seen before. Tentatively, I dipped a fingertip in; it was warm and unexpectedly comforting.

"Alright…" I said, beginning to shrug off my clothes. "Here goes nothing."

Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the pool. The water enveloped me, a gentle sensation and a welcome difference from the cool dampness of the swamp. A tingling feeling spread across my skin. Myri, for its part, seemed to observe me as I settled in up to my chin.

Closing my eyes, I surrendered to the healing hug of the water. Slowly, the pain faded, replaced by a feeling of peace. In fact, it was downright pleasant.

"How long did you say this takes to work?" I asked, stretching out carefully to not aggravate my aches and other hurts.

"It is...variable," Myri answered, using the opportunity to float directly above so that it was right in my eyeline, about five feet from the pool's surface. "Depending on the level of injury, that is. Broken bones take longer to heal than surface wounds, but—likely not more than an hour."

Stolen novel; please report.

"Well, alright, I suppose I can withstand a bit of comfort for a bit," I grinned. "You weren't kidding. This ain't bad at all!"

"I am quite pleased, Leo," Myri said. "Despite your injuries, you do appear to be in good spirits. That is a welcome response."

"Yeah, well, I think it's more shock than anything," I said. "You know, not being fully immersed yet in the…reality."

It was a strange thing, I supposed, to know that something is real and not feel like it was—but to also realize you didn't fully appreciate it yet. I'd suffered in the past from what a few docs had called "depersonalization" and "derealization" before—and it was kind of like that. I wasn't fully present in this moment, despite the circumstances, because my brain was likely still trying to catch up to all the insane events I'd been dealing with for the last little while. I thought about how bad it might be, however, if I still leaned on cigarettes as much as I once did.

"Trust me, Myri," I continued, "if I hadn't quit smoking a few months ago, you'd be experiencing an entirely different reaction."

"Well, you appear to be adapting well," Myri explained. "Now, what would you like to know?"

I considered this. There was a lot to unpack.

"How much time do we have?"

"Well, erm…" Myri said, sounding unsure. "...you have some time, I suppose. But there's a finite amount… technically."

"Alright, well, then, first off—the thing that's been prickling my mind in the last little bit is what happened to me a little while before I got to this place."

I paused.

"Oh, actually, wait—what is this place? That's my first question."

"This?" Myri wondered, and I watched as it turned slowly on its axis in the air. "You're currently enjoying the comforts of Riddara, known to some as an enclave. Long has it sat unattended. Though, now...well, it is a place I believe you will become considerably familiar with in time."

"That's almost ominous," I said, suddenly feeling a tug at the skin of my chest. I glanced down and watched as tiny bubbles—resembling carbonation—began to wick away from a bruise on my sternum. It was a small one, but painful, and I watched as it began to grow smaller—as though being erased entirely—the skin beneath looking fresh and new.

Well, I'll be… I thought. Myri had been right: it didn't hurt. Though, I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a bizarre and slightly uncomfortable sensation.

"Eh?" Myri said, sounding shocked by my statement. "It is not meant to be ominous, Leo. It is meant to fill you with wonder!"

"Well…" I started, thinking myself really clever at that moment. "I am indeed filled with wonder—because I'm wondering if you can educate me on why the Boglands were asking me to dedicate a kill to it."

I know puns aren't the best method to convince people you're funny—but hey, sometimes the lowest-hanging fruit is the ripest.

There was a long pause, and I watched Myri's glow dim and grow brighter again several times. It actually reminded me a bit of a loading screen from a video game or one of those browser hiccups when you didn't have any data left on your phone. It amused me to think that's precisely what was happening. Eventually, though, it spoke again.

"Ah! Yes, a query about the nature of the Boglands! I can answer that!" The metal diamond floated up a bit, moving around in an almost gleeful fashion. It was fascinating to witness.

"When a member of Clan Trask is first making their connection to the Boglands, dedicating a feat—in this instance…a kill—is one of the best ways to deepen the strength of the bond."

That, I guess, made a sort of sense—if you used the logic so far presented in this world. However, that opened up additional questions.

"So, that means the Boglands are, what? Alive?" I asked.

"Well…in a way," Myri said, coming down again and hovering only about a foot from the water. "That is a complex question and one that I am, unfortunately, unable to answer at the moment. I apologize for that, Leo."

"Hey, not to worry," I said. "You seem to have some sort of…limit on the amount of information you can tell me, right?"

"Yes!"

"Well, then, that's alright. Don't you worry your little metallic head over it—don't want you getting in trouble on my account, do I?"

I'll be honest: I was a bit more agreeable to any lack of information at the moment because the pond was working on all the scrapes and cuts now, and that sensation was absolutely heavenly. I even paused for a moment to watch it work, seeing the minor battle scars begin to fleck away like they were nothing more than motes of dirt.

"So," I continued finally, looking back to Myri as the pond continued the Lord's work on my flesh. "Can you tell me what the difference is then in dedicating a kill to the Boglands and dedicating one to myself?"

"Of course, Leo," Myri said, flashing. "Dedicating to the Bog earns you a deeper connection over time—the more you offer up in tribute, the stronger that bond becomes. However, dedicating to yourself is also a reasonable action. This allows you to grow the bond within."

"How's that now?" I wondered. "In what way would I need to become more bonded with myself? I'm already in my own body."

It made me think about my handful of therapy sessions. A lot of the shrinks I saw spoke to me about things like meditation and listening more to my own body—to stave off what they thought of as anxiety. I never really got it. Sounded really...woo-woo to me, but I'm never gonna be the guy that steals the sugar outta someone else's sweet tea, so I just told them it wasn't for me and let that be that.

“Well, that is—oh, right! No Apocrypha, I’d forgotten,” Myri said, nearly resting itself on the surface of the water. “That is the way you Ripen.”

“...Ripen?” I wondered. “Like a fruit?”

“Much the same—though, this particular Ripening, is special. It is how you become stronger.”

I sat forward suddenly, water splashing around with my movement.

“Get stronger? Like, with the mag—uh, Galdur?” I demanded.

“Yes—but, Leo, that is only a single aspect of what it means. Now that you are back in Dralore, your connection to the Deep Rooted Array is restored, and as such, you can begin to advance—growing stronger. That is what it means to Ripen. But, erm…”

Myri went quiet for a moment, as if percolating, before flashing dimly.

“That is, unfortunately, the extent that I can share with you on the subject. You will learn more, however, as you continue to explore the Boglands and partake in the offers of the Trial.”

I sighed. If that’s how it has to be, suppose I shouldn’t get piss-burnt brown with the lack of info.

It was really easy to dismiss any potential setbacks when I was in this natural jacuzzi, scrubbin’ away my aches and pains. I could get used to this. So, I switched to another topic—one that would likely only result in partial answers.

“Right,” I started, but paused, feeling a sudden deeper tug on my ribs. Seemed like the healing was starting to get more invasive. I took a breath, pushing down the early warning signs of panic due to having something messing with my insides, and forged ahead. “Um, sorry—it’s working on my broken ribs, now,” I said. “Anyway, you mentioned something about a…Knight, before. What’s the deal with that?”

That was a particularly intriguing morsel, Knights. I’d be lying if I said the idea of fantasy of that caliber didn’t have a certain sense of appeal. I didn’t know a single guy or gal who wasn’t sweet on the concept, romanticizing the stories of powerful warriors capable of defending their ladies (or lords, if that was your flavor) with wondrous feats of stylistic combat. I’d need to know what the particulars were here, though, before I got too excited.

“The Knights are chosen protectors of their respective Strata and are duty-bound to safeguard their Wardens and their lands.”

“...When you say ‘knight,’ are you talking about like…swords and jousting and all that shit, or is this more honorary? Like Sir Elton John? Regardless of which version, I don’t know anything about being a knight. Especially not one for an entire region, or, Strata I guess we're callin' it. Hell, I can’t even put up much of a fight! Sure, I’ve been in some scraps in my life—and I’m not gonna lie—I actually didn’t do too bad in them—whipped the fire outta that zombie thing a couple hours ago, too. Sorta impressed myself with my ferocity—but this? This is a far cry beyond any street brawl.”

“That is what you were, Leo. I speak more about what you will become.”

Something about the way the entity said that gave me goosebumps. 'Course it coulda been in part because of the healing I was receiving from the water. Still…something about it spoke to a place inside me. Resonated, like a soundly struck chord in an otherwise quiet meadow. I had the sense that I was on the verge of something. Though, what it was, I didn’t know. So, I waited, letting Myri keep on.

“As I mentioned before, Leo—your lineage, the Trask Clan, holds—erm—held the esteemed position of Bog Wardens,” Myri continued. “And that is where we come to the crux of the conversation of the Trial of the Bog.”

“Oh?” I asked. “And what, pray tell, is that?”

“Your role,” Myri said simply. “Your destined role.”

“Yeah, uh, sorry to be the one to tip over your julep cup, Myri,” I said. “But you already told me my role: a Knight. Or did you mean something else?”

“There is more to it than that, Leo,” Myri explained. “Not just a Knight. The Knight. Your destined role is that of the Boglands’ primary sentinel. Its shield and its spear. The vanguard ahead of the charge and the cavalry when things are most dim. The one who commands the spirit of the Boglands itself: the Marsh Knight.”