Laying there, staring up at Jotufinn like a possum caught in the headlights, her offer reminded me of a time back when I was no taller than a grasshopper. One of the neighbor kids, Allison Montgomery, used to wait until I'd climb up the big oak out back behind Marius and Selena’s house, get about halfway, and then holler, "Need help getting down?" Of course, by then, I was already committed, halfway up a tree with no easy way down. Kinda felt the same now—halfway up a tree with a Verndari offering a hand.

Jotufinn repeated her offer, her voice as smooth as silk but with an edge sharper than a butcher's knife. "I said that I would lend my strength when you needed it, and here I am. Leo, do you desire my assistance?"

I lay there, considering. It wasn't so much deciding whether to accept her help—hell, I was as stubborn as a skinny tick on a fat dog. It was the timing that got me. It was slimier than an eel in a bucket of snot that she'd wait until this precise moment to offer a hand. Classic manipulator move—wait till the poor sucker's up the tree and then offer to hold the ladder.

Trapped as I was in my icy coffin, I couldn't help but wonder how in the dickens Jotufinn expected me to respond. I mean, my fuckin’ mouth was frozen! Could she read minds? Or maybe she was so confident in her charm that she figured I didn’t even need to say yes. Most folks, caught in a pickle like this, would prolly be waving their hands in the affirmative faster than a white flag on a Confederate battlefield. But not me, no sir.

I've always been a bit of a thick-headed mule—as previously mentioned—stubborn, and right now, I was more concerned about what sneaky game Jotufinn might be playing than the fact that I was stuck to the floor like a stamp on a letter.

Huh…how about that? There I was, facing a frosty demise, and for the first time, the thought of kicking the bucket didn’t send me into a tailspin of panic. Ain't that a hoot?

I eyed her, that calm, mysterious expression of hers. She looked like she knew every card in the deck and then some. But me? I’ve never been one to play a hand just because it's dealt to me. Even if it meant lying here, turning into a human popsicle. I didn’t trust her. So there I lay, stuck and pondering, a living statue contemplating a deal with a swamp deity—weighing the devil I knew against the devil I didn’t. And let me tell you, when you’re lying on the floor, freezing your biscuits off, even with my mind made up, those kinds of decisions don’t come easy.

I grumbled. Jotufinn smiled wider.

“Was that a yes?” she asked sweetly.

“No, ya damn cutpurse!” I…tried to say—but it likely sounded like more grumbling. But, the gal seemed to guess my intent.

“Oh, but Leo…” she said poutily. “You are likely to perish otherwise! Why not save yourself—and your friend?”

I glanced over at Sav, likewise fixed in frost on the floor—though I noticed he was doing a bit o’ moving. Like, beneath the sheen of ice was a whole mess of wiggling. He was really going for it. It struck me then that he should have been stopped in time as much as the rest of the room. So…time was slowed for both of us? That was interesting. She’d save him too, huh? Trying to sweeten the deal, I guess.

Then I glanced at the unoving form of the Crypt Commander. Sheesh, he’s an ugly sumbitch. I knew that the moment Jotufinn vacated the premises, he was gonna get even uglier and meaner. Weren’t great odds, honestly. I did not want to accept the Verndari’s assistance, but—

I found myself unexpectedly connected to Jotufinn's mind, interrupting the thoughts inside my head with unsettling clarity.

Leo, you must see reason. Your predicament is beyond dire. Accept my assistance, she urged.

You can speak in my mind? I wondered back mentally. However that was possible, it weren’t right.

Oh, yes, Leo, she responded. We are not fully connected, you and I, though we are at a precipice stage in our compact—which allows me certain liberties of communication with you. Trust that I only have your best interests in mind. I can help you.

I tried to maintain my composure, attempting to be the polite Southern gentleman Mama-woulda raised, even in my thoughts.

Ma'am, I appreciate your concern, but I reckon I'm still inclined to refuse, I responded mentally, my tone firm yet courteous.

Jotufinn’s voice was like silk, winding through my thoughts, almost soothing despite the situation. Leo, consider the gravity of your situation. You are trapped, powerless. Why would you refuse a helping hand?

I grimaced, or at least I tried to. Mental conversations weren’t exactly my forte. Well, ma'am, see it's like this—I don't take too kindly to bein' manipulated. Feels a bit like a bear trap dressed up as a picnic basket.

Ah, she persisted, her mental tone laced with faux concern, this is not manipulation. It is an offer of salvation. You' are in dire straits. Your friend there," her consciousness indicated Sav, is also in peril. Do you not want to save him as well?

Her words were sweet, but they left a sour taste in my thoughts.

Ma'am, Sav’s a tough cookie—made o’ sturdier stock than me, that’s for damn sure. He’ll be alright. And me? I’ve been in stickier situations than this. I ain’t in the habit of taking the easy way out, especially when it smells fishier than trout jambalaya.

But why struggle, why suffer, when I can easily free you from this predicament? Jotufinn pressed, her tone taking on an edge of impatience.

Because, Miss Jotufinn, life's about the fight. Least the way I look at it. It ain’t about takin' shortcuts or acceptin' handouts from... well, from whatever you are. I reckon I’ll take my chances.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Her mental presence seemed to hover, heavy and expectant.

You are making a grave mistake, Leo. Life is not about struggle—it is about enjoyment. My assistance is a gift, not a curse.

I’ll be honest, I’d gone a bit heavy on the ‘boot straps’ argument. Hell, I didn’t actually think life needed to be a struggle, but I needed to try to persuade her into not sticking her nose in, and I knew one of the best ways to turn a gal down was to lean into the idea that you perceived yourself as the only thing necessary in the world. I believed in myself, sure, but I also wasn’t above taking a leg up when I could get it. Just not from someone I trusted so little.

Gifts don’t usually come with strings, and yours feel like they're attached to a whole damn puppet show, I shot back. I appreciate the offer, I really do, but I reckon I'll decline. I’ve got faith in myself. I’ll find a way out of this mess.

It is unlikely, she said. The collection of Galdur and skills you have acquired thus far are woefully inadequate for an enemy of this strength. This is far removed from what one might have been expected to encounter. Choosing to go to the tower was a mistake—one that I aim to fix on your behalf, if you would only let me do so.

Mistake? Shit—was she being serious? This…well, whatever this happened to be was outta my range? I didn’t like the sound of that. Ain’t nothing I like less than being told I can’t do something I clearly set out to do. But, still—the Commander was a toughie. Looked like he was about an inch from ending it for all o’ us. That didn’t sit right for me.

Just as despair began to gnaw at the edges of my resolve, a glimmer of hope caught my eye. Sav, that mountain of a teenager, was making progress against his own icy confines. Cracks were spider-webbing across the surface of his prison.

Emboldened by Sav's resilience, I mentally shoved back against Jotufinn's insistence.

Thank you, ma'am, but I'd kindly ask you to buzz off now, I declared with as much defiance as I could muster.

There was a pause, and I could almost feel her considering my words.

As you wish, Leo. Remember, this was your choice.

Yeah, my choice, I thought firmly. Thanks for the chat, but I got a long night ahead of me, I imagine.

As Jotufinn withdrew, receding into the shadows and icy mist of the chamber, time lurched back into its normal rhythm. Almost immediately, Sav burst from his icy encasement with a roar that could've woken the dead.

Oh hell yeah! You show that ice, Sav! I cheered in my mind. Now you just gotta whoop the green apple piss outta that monster while I Houdini my way outta this mess.

Speaking of: the Crypt Commander, now with a renewed sense of agency, swooped toward him.

But instead of engaging, Sav surprised me.

Rather than turn and start busting up the beast like a traditional bruiser…he bolted toward me. Before I could even consider what he was doing, he was there above me, landing a resounding thwack with the butt of his ax against my ice prison. A network of cracks radiated from the impact, loosening the ice’s hold on me—if only just. He spared me a quick nod before turning to face the flying monstrosity, luring it away with a taunt and a swing of his ax.

Well…hell, I considered. Maybe you ain’t such a bad Squire choice after all, Sav…

Alone now, I focused on the remnants of my Galdur. Marshlore was telling me how low it was—very. I knew that to try to use it now would be like slurping up the final drops of Coke through a straw—which made me amused to imagine the plastic rattle sound when you’re trying to get everything from your cup. However, it wasn’t really time to be musing over things like that—I was still technically trapped. So, preparing myself for one hell of a headache, I set about scraping together just enough energy to summon a smidgen of Elemental Shield.

However, the sensation was altogether quite different than what I imagined. Pulling Galdur from the attavita actually felt like trying to siphon molasses through a coffee stirrer. The sensation as it crawled through the base of my skull was pins, needles, and the onset of the worst hangover known to creation.

As the Galdur trickled in, an intense headache slammed into me like a runaway dump truck. It was the kind of pain that buckles your knees, makes the world spin, and has you questioning your life choices. I felt dizzy, nauseous, and a little bit like my head might just pop off my shoulders.

Panic started to claw at my insides, a wildfire of fear spreading through my chest. What if this was it? What if my brain decided, 'Nah, this is too much' and just gave up? The thought of an aneurysm felt way too real, and for a split second, I considered stopping. But no, my gray matter popping like a balloon or not, I had to get myself out of here.

Biting back a scream, I held onto that sensation of Galdur, letting the waves of agony wash over me. It was like riding a tsunami on pool noodles. Every second felt like an eternity, my whole body tensing as I tried to focus.

Just a little bit of Elemental Shield. That’s all I needed. Just a dash of it—as a treat.

The Galdur built up, gathering in the core of my being. Then, with a mental push that felt like shoving a boulder up a hill, I released it.

Elemental Shield erupted around me, a burst of energy that radiated outward. The ice encasing me cracked under the force, fissures spider-webbing out from my body. I felt a small sense of relief as the ice around my torso shattered, giving me just enough room to wiggle my arms. But that was all there was for Elemental Shield—I’d been able to summon it for less than a second, but that would have to do.

I slumped back against the remaining ice, gasping for breath, my head pounding like a drum in a marching band. I was free—or at least, freer than I was a few seconds ago. I was in a world of hurt…but I couldn’t let that stop me—the alternative was a terrible death at the hands of the tower’s original denizens. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement—those damn undead knights. Now, if I could just muster the strength to chop away the rest of this ice with my daggers... But I had to hurry. The knights were stirring, slowly rising, their rusted blades glinting ominously.

Using my now mostly-freed arms, I grabbed at a fang dagger. I was able to twist my wrist enough to pull a single dagger out of my bandolier, though there were complications: the knights were now heading my way. The urgency hit me—I had to move dammit!

No rest for the wicked, huh? Time to get chipping.

I hacked at the ice, desperate to free myself before the undead reached me. With every glance, I saw them inching closer, their slow, determined steps a stark contrast to my frantic efforts.

Oh, hell no you don’t! I thought. Git! That’s right! You just wait ‘til I’m free and we can make this a fair-and-square tussle.

Sav, meanwhile, was a whirlwind of fury against the Crypt Commander. The giant creature swooped and dived, its icy aura trailing behind it like a comet’s tail. But Sav matched its movements, his ax a blur as he fought to keep it at bay.

I grunted, striking harder at the ice. C'mon, c'mon, I pleaded, the cold biting into my skin, my breath coming out in frosty clouds. I had to get out, had to help Sav, had to survive this frozen hell we'd found ourselves in.

Time was running out, and those knights were getting closer.

I finally managed to wrench myself free from the ice's grip, the shards clattering to the ground as I stumbled to my feet. Just in time too, because one of those knights came swinging at me like a drunken lumberjack. I rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the blade that seemed eager to make my acquaintance.

I army-crawled across the frozen tiles, feeling every inch of my body screaming in protest. The cold had seeped into my bones, making every movement a miserable effort. I spotted the Wandsword where it had fallen when I got blasted backward. I reached for it, rolled again, and pushed myself up, ready to defend against the inevitable onslaught.

But with eight knights versus one exhausted, beat-up good ol’ boy, it was rougher than a night out at Bubba's Bar and Grill after a double shift. I was tired, hurt, and my Galdur was as dry as a bone. Without the ice lance trick, I was back to basics—swinging and hoping for the best. They kept beating on me—one caught me in the arm with a blade, another hit me with the butt of a sword under the eye, a third just barely slipped past my guard and jammed a spear tip into my stomach. That last one hurt.

I managed to take down one of them, but there were still seven left. I tried to keep my distance, using the Wandsword to fend them off. But my muscles were screaming, and blood was seeping from too many cuts to count. The only thing keeping me going was sheer, unadulterated panic.

Across the room, Sav was having his own issues. He was doing a good job dodging the Commander’s ice blasts, but I could tell he was running on fumes. Then, just as he seemed to falter, the beast landed a solid hit on the side of his head.

Sav went down like a sack of bricks.

“Sav!” I yelled, or at least tried to. My voice was more of a hoarse whisper, lost in the chaos.

But it was no use. I was on my own now.