Pain, the more endurable physical kind, greeted me upon consciousness. My old battle companion was eager to monopolize my attention, but I denied its simpering pleas to toss the white sheet off of me.
A bed of poor quality, the beeping of machines, the sighing of pumps, white curtains, and the click-clack of medical drones provided the clues I needed to determine that I was in the infirmary. Casimir must have decided my poisoning was beyond his current expertise and dragged me here from the warrens.
Potion toxicity harmed the shade directly through conceptual corruption. A little here or there wasn’t an issue, but overdoing it could have lethal results as your body partially transforms into a mixture of the potions ingested.
The drones had rigged my veins with tubes that drew my blood into a purification machine and pumped it back into my body. An acidic chemical in my ichor had corroded the machine, causing a leaching of sulfur and glass to come with the purified blood, wracking my body with microtears and significant bleeding.
Such were the limits of automatons…
I ripped out the tubes and then coaxed the physical contaminants out of my body with my aura before letting the entry points scab over. By the time I finished that, the clock on the wall indicated that I had missed sparring class with my weakness.
Sighing, I stood and let the thin medical gown fall along my frame as I walked barefoot to a cubby with my equipment. A note from Casimir said that he left after I was stable and took all the Crafting supplies that didn’t fit into my satchel to my room.
After rearming and finding Coatlie snuggled in my helmet, I started the long journey from the Healer’s tower to my enchanting class. This building was covered in vines, flowers, and miniature trees flanking each window. These students stalked the halls with haunted expressions. While they grouped together and were more wary than the Crafters, they left their formations more open, inviting assault.
When a monkey with draconic wings dived from the rafters, it successfully latched onto a woman’s shoulder. She cried out in pain and made a show of agony for several seconds. When no other monsters decided to exploit the opportunity, she stopped her wails and smiled. “Got you!”
She grabbed the creature’s head while the others in her walking group each latched onto separate limbs and pulled. The monkey was ripped apart, splattering viscera everywhere.
The gore covered woman laughed as light glowed from her wound and slowly sealed up. She turned to me and waved a hand over the pile of entrails. “Do you want this, Crafter?”
“I do!” I eagerly plucked the potent organs and placed them into jars. “Thank you, my name is Mari.”
“And I am Alyssa. Tell me, what brings a Crafter to our hall?”
“I imbibed too many potions.” I snapped my fingers. “Alyssa? Are you Captain Lightbringer’s kid?”
Her eyes literally brightened. “Yes. You know of her?”
“She protected the Ward I grew up in.”
Alyssa chuckled. “Truly, it is a small world. Well, I’ll leave you to your business and hope you never need mine.”
Once we parted ways, I finished gathering my offal and made it to class. Vanya had beat me there. She glanced me over and asked, “Rough portal?”
“I nearly died, but nothing new about that.” I sat down and spread out my things. “How was yours?”
“Gabriel’s Crafter nearly lost his head. I’m not wishing the guy misfortune, but if there was an opening on his team, then I would try to take it.”
The idea of her sharing a dorm with Gabriel made me both deeply uncomfortable and excited in differently uncomfortable ways. “He’s likely to survive all the team exercises, so your chance to live would be much higher with him.” Despite my misgivings, a bumbling teammate in a portal could be worse than no team at all, and I wanted Vanya to live.
“Is that jealousy I hear in your voice? Don’t worry, I’m not going to steal your man from you while the two of you are going through a rough patch.”
“That’s good. I would hate to have to duel you for his heart,” I drawled. The idea of dating Gabriel was absurd. Our bond transcended anything carnal. He was my other half. This time apart had been painful, but we would soon be slaughtering monsters side by side again.
Vanya hummed. “I bet I could win that fight. No offense, but you don’t ooze seductive charisma.”
After sliding my helmet off, I turned her chin to my smoldering gaze with one finger and pitched my voice just right. “Is that a challenge?” I leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “Love is not so different than war. Find your target’s vulnerabilities and press them.” My last breath tickled the tips of her ears as I pulled away.
Her face reddened, and she coughed before changing subjects. “Anyways, I found no hint of Axel. He had all weekend to cover his tracks or fall victim to the assassin. Less of Scarlet’s goons are hunting for me, but if they also can’t find Axel, then they may assume we made him a scapegoat and make a real move against us.”
“He avoided orc assassins long enough to learn the language and attended classes while doing so. We should dig through the school’s records or interrogate his team to find out his abilities. That should tell us how he is hiding.”
“The first portal his team went through closed behind them. No one thought any of them were alive. If they are, then they aren’t reachable.” She sighed. “I really don’t want to break into Professor Danger’s office. There are no stories of any student succeeding.”
“We could ask permission. The man seems reasonable.”
Vanya squinted at me. “You may be the only person to think that about him. He always takes Mondays off, so we’ll have to try tomorrow.”
After we agreed to that plan, Gyro continued her lecture series on spatial mechanics. While the math was understandable, I didn’t understand space well enough as a thing to learn the associated runes, but I was getting closer.
When class let out, I found a quiet corner and curled in it with my Runes of Creation book. Riena advised that learning more runes generally would make internalizing the abstract ones easier, so I crammed my head with as many as possible until I needed to rush to my seminar.
This lecture took me back to the Healer’s tower, but far deeper underground. Professor Dryad stood by a yellow portal with a serene expression on their angular face. They wore yellow robes that did little to obscure the roots digging through their clothes and flesh. Branches wove around their forehead like a crown, sprouting flowers that flowed down their back. Dryad was paralyzed from a young age, so they grew a tree through their spine and gradually replaced their entire nervous system with roots that they could control. They retired to a professorship when incidental growth from the tree began to threaten their life. The slower pace of academia has kept them well preserved.
“Students, welcome to the burrow beneath my grove.” Their tenor voice flitted through tones like birdsong. “Professor Gyro will not be with us this evening. She was called away to important matters, but I assure you that you are in good hands.”
They sauntered past the portal and brushed their fingers near the surface.
“It really is a shame that I don’t get to teach you all more often. Crafters find themselves dabbling in Healing more than any other role, and so many of my darlings find themselves subjected to your ministrations.
“I don’t hold that against you. No, far from it. Crafters share in the Healer’s burden and most come to understand our unique struggle. I am of course speaking of triage, the dolling out of medical care to where it will be the most effective. These are the hard, brutal choices you have to make as a Healer to save the most heroes. Sometimes that means letting loved ones die to save someone you hate.
“This portal will teach you that lesson. Properly closing it is a tier 7 challenge, but if you do well in the initial battlefield triage portion, the portal will eject you. Don’t attempt to slay the enemy commander. You may go in together, but your scenarios will be individualized. Meeting up with allies will take far too much time, and even then, you need to defeat a high tier monster to continue the scenario, not complete it. The next ejection point is one year later and only one student has ever made it that far.”
Several students raised their hands. Dryad ignored them.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
Seeing no reason to delay, I was the first to walk through. How bad could it be?
The pavilion I appeared outside of was comically large. Well trodden dirt surrounded the brown tent in all directions. In the distance, well-armored soldiers of three distinct heraldries engage in vicious melee. Calvary competed to slay the most foes, and archers filled seized hills to rain death below them. The occasional siege engine or archmage served as a focal point of conflict where the army’s elites would gather to defend or slay the strategic asset.
There were paths and ways through the conflict to the commander’s tent. I could cut my way through and go for the head. It seemed a shame not to at least try, but I wasn’t here to close the portal.
As I reached for the tent flap, I hesitated and removed my helmet first. A good bedside manner is a critical part of medical care. While I wasn’t often a sawbones, the need had arisen enough that I had passable skills. Though, most of my ‘patients’ had been monsters.
When I entered, I discovered the cruel nature of this test. Each of the beds was filled with a human I had watched die. No wonder the tent is so large. Seeing so many dear faces alive again and dying threatened a disorienting emotional response. I split my mind to chew on it while the rest of me focused on giving care.
Those who I knew the best had the most severe wounds or ones so minor as to not need treatment. The ideal wounds lay on strangers and assholes, not that I held spite for the dead. These were all companions in the fight against extinction.
After grabbing the nearest bundle of supplies, I ran to a kid with a nicked artery and little other damage. He cackled as I treated him. “Exemplar? Lookin’ pretty today. Hey, where are you going? The nurse should kiss it better.”
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“Schmit, do you remember trying to surf a shark infested water elemental?” I tied off the stitches and moved on.
He winced. “Shit, I bungled that one, didn’t I?”
“Gabriel vomited at the sight, and you know his tolerance for gore.”
The kid cursed his decision making as I moved between strangers, treating time sensitive cases first and optimizing the visually available supplies. A few of the untreated called out to me, but I managed to ignore most of them.
“Damn, I guess I never had a shot,” Linda whined while clutching at an arrow in her abdomen.
I treated the people around her. “When you approached me, I wasn’t comfortable enough with myself for another physical relationship.”
“Another?” Her eyes widened. “Izy?”
I nodded.
“Fuck me.”
“Surely that wasn’t a serious suggestion. I think your condition, age, and sexuality would prevent such activities.”
She had a coughing fit. “Please don’t make me laugh. What is this? I’m fairly certain I died. No offense, but being tended by you sounds like a shitty afterlife.”
“I believe all of you are some sort of telepathic spirit that is reading my mind to conjure images of the dead to torment me.”
“Did you know my mother’s maiden name is Bisner? Obviously not, but you can check that later and confirm I knew something you didn’t. That would rule out mind reading spirits.”
“Not necessarily. The creature you were may have summoned your shade by invoking my memories of you, giving you access to some or all of your memories. Which is possible since shades are conceptual in nature. They don’t die when we do; they merely fade back to wherever they came from, a thought that grows more pressing for me as more of my brain is replaced.”
Linda grimaced in pain and tried not to writhe around her arrow. “So what happens if I live past this tent? Is there a world out there? Could I go home?”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her that she had no home. All of her family had died. “It’s possible you will be ‘reset’ as soon as I leave, but I think you would get to exist in this world for as long as you could survive. With enough aid from me, it would be the nearest thing I’ve seen to resurrection magic.”
“That… sounds nice. Why do you think that?”
“Because it hurts me far more to let you die again.”
She tried to sit up. “Come on, my crush wasn’t that bad, right? Don’t let me die. I want to live. Pick a handful of people you like and we’ll work together to close the portal. Our lives have to be worth risking yours.”
I stopped long enough to squeeze her hand. “I cared for you, in my own way. Maybe it wasn’t obvious, but your feelings were reciprocated. I hope that gives you peace in your next grave.”
Linda, the fierce survivor she was, begged, pleaded, bargained, and then screamed for my help as I moved away from her. She had every right. Our first duty was to live. Her angry tirade fell to soft sobs before even that silenced. Linda’s corpse had no further demands.
Wounds needed cleaning and bandaged. Bones needed set. A few simple surgeries saved people that most would have had to let die. Maybe the other Crafters had deep stores of healing potions and used those to solve this challenge. I only had one and had to reserve it for myself. That and a tier 1 potion would have limited effectiveness to people with shades this weak.
A child no older than ten stared at my face while clutching the ruin of his leg. While an amputation or tourniquet would stabilize him, the pavilion’s resources weren’t plentiful enough to waste on someone who wouldn’t rejoin the war effort. That didn’t stop the doomed kid from talking to me. “Hunter? Are you still playing princess?”
I smiled at my childhood friend. “No Blake, I stopped playing when you died. People call me Exemplar or Mari now.”
“Hey, just because I can’t play anymore doesn’t mean you should stop.”
Some of the antiseptic must have splashed in my eyes. Very wasteful of me. “Don’t worry. I slay monsters for real now. I even killed the one that got you.” I couldn’t waste any cloth to wipe the contaminants from my eyes, but thankfully humans had a natural process to remove such particulates. “That’s… my fun now, slaying monsters.”
“It sounds scary…” His voice started to drift off.
“It’s… really cool actually. I’ve rode dragons, chased unicorns, battled witches, everything we imagined doing. My… life’s been really fun. I swear.”
He nodded soberly like having fun was the most important thing in the world. “That’s good... I think I hear my mom calling me… I… have… to… go…”
“Goodbye, Blake.”
For mysterious reasons, the visual impairment in my eyes also partially clogged my nose. These ailments did not significantly hamper my treatment of the wounded. More voices cried out for ‘Exemplar’ to save them one more time. The crowd had caught on to who I was, and there was no one else to plea to.
Mechanically, I analyzed and treated wounds while replaying the most painful deaths of my life one by one as the medical supplies shrank. This portal led to hell, I decided. Dryad was a devil and sold my soul for an infernal rite of ascension. When I completed my labors, it would all reset. I mentally prepared myself for the possibility. After three times or so, I think I would try my luck assassinating the commander.
Inevitably, the parade of temptations led to the person I wanted to see most and least of all. Bad shrapnel had riddled his gut. The wound could wait and wouldn’t kill him quickly, but nothing on hand could reasonably fix him. I would have to ‘requisition’ an army healer from the frontlines for the job, an entirely doable task.
“Marideth? Why are you so young? Where are our children?” the wounded man asked.
A person near him needed a leg set, so I moved there as I responded, “Marideth is my mother. I go by Mari.”
“Your mother!?” His eyebrows rose. “Goodness, you look just like her. Did she remarry? No, that’s not important. Do you have siblings?”
For very sound medical reasons, the patients that most needed me were near the man. “She didn’t remarry. Anthony is alive and well.”
“What about my little Hu—”
“It’s me, Dad. This is how I am now.”
My father blinked in shock once and then stared at me for several seconds before saying, “Okay.”
“This is okay?” This may have been the doomed shadow of the man that once raised me, but I would give anything to have approval from my only hero.
“Sure, it’s fine. What guy hasn’t imagined being a woman from time to time?” Most of them, actually. “Anyways, during all these changes, did you keep your heroic heart?”
The acceptance, couched as it was, was enough. Deep in my soul, the part of me that thought my father would be disappointed in me started to mend. “If anything, my joy for all things heroic has only grown.”
He smiled and relaxed. “The world needs people like us. The difference between great heroes and terrible monsters isn’t their capacity for violence; it’s who they were fighting for.”
“I haven’t forgotten the wisdom you dispensed as we practiced swordplay or during our wilderness prowls. Such precious memories nurture me in trying times.”
“And it’s been quite a long time, hasn’t it?”
“Eight years.” I moved to another nearby patient and bandaged her wounds.
My father’s countenance twisted as the weight of years hit him. “So long…” He pawed at his stomach and pulled away a bloody palm. “And we have such little time together… Let’s start from when I left you. What happened to our village?”
“After the basilisk killed you, I pried your silver sword from your dead hands and avenged myself upon the monster.”
“Did I at least soften him up for you?”
I smiled as my vision obscured again. “You did. I couldn’t have slain the creature if it was fresh. With my new ability, I rallied the defenders and pushed back the invaders long enough to evacuate what remained of our family and village through Blood Valley.”
“That area was infested with ogres and hobs.”
“Aye, we fought more than a few pitch battles. Young as I was, the survivors had me marshal the forces. Since you were the guard captain, they decided I inherited your authority. By all accounts, I led them well and a full half of us made it to Last Stand.”
He rubbed his face. “Half? Half of all my friends, and everyone I spent my life protecting, died in one journey.”
“The previous survival record of a refugee caravan was one third. I nearly earned my name then, but the experience had shaken me. It was only after two more years of heroics that the best of the best called me Exemplar.”
The smile returned to his face. “Named at twelve, eh? What a marvelous accomplishment. I knew you would do great things. I’m so proud of you. And I’m so sorry for having missed your life.”
My eyes refused to obey my commands and turned against me. “I’m not done. After saving every coin I earned, I moved Mom and Anthony to a middle district. The Savior wasn’t as popular during your time, but he turned the tide of the war. The population is growing, the barriers are stabilized, and hope beats in every hero’s heart. Things are so much better than when they used to be, and I’ve been at every pivotal battle see this future unfold.”
“That’s a future I wished I saw. One last piece of advice from this ghost haunting you: be careful of hubris. My friends and I thought we could keep a settlement beyond the barriers safe.”
“You did! For many years, you and your guards held the line.”
“But then we failed. If your ability is like mine—”
“My hero name is my ability. Exemplar is a more evolved version of your Aptitude.”
“Then this is even more important: Abilities like ours incline us to thinking we can do anything because, in a way, that’s true. Every weapon is our friend. Any profession is easily mastered. You can smith, sing, dance, weave, act, steal, hunt, or whatever else strikes your fancy. Sure, other heroes can do the impossible, but you will have the history and weight of all of humanity’s accomplishments at your beck and call while taking any skill to new heights. This hypercompetence in all areas will make you feel invincible. Don’t trust it.”
I gave him a sad smile. “Yeah, and that’s exactly why everyone who can is getting it as a second ability. Congrats Dad, all the best heroes will carry our lineage. I don’t get to be special in this new golden age, but I haven’t given up. I can still put in more effort than everyone else.”
He reached out a hand to me. I clenched it, briefly interrupting my work. He squeezed back and said, “You’ve been exemplary, and I know you’ll keep blazing the trail for everyone else.” My father laid back on his cot and released my hand. “Now go, complete your quest and don’t let the memory of me drag you to your doom.”
“I can hear you from anywhere in this tent. Dad, please keep talking as I work. I want to listen to your voice again.”
“Sure. Have I told you how to divert a river into a cave? There is a trick to it that makes it way easier. See…”
I kept an ear on my father’s wisdom. He would pause and ask the occasional pressing question about our family. I would shout the answers back and continue my work. The rest of the patients seemed to understand that attempting to talk over my father wouldn’t make me inclined to help them. As I debrided another infection and applied a poultice, my thoughts couldn’t help but stray to notions of saving my father and carrying him out of here.
One year of an insanely difficult portal would be worth it if I could bring him home. Each minute that ticked by made the urge to rush the enemy commander stronger. The more my father talked, the more memories resurfaced, and the more my eyes burned with tears.
No illusions. No euphemisms. I cried freely after the first ten minutes. His words of wisdom would slide into stories about us at solstice or how him and mom met. He asked how she took to me ‘taking after her’. I lied and said everything was fine. The shrewd man didn’t believe me, but we let the lie hang between us.
“I’m sure she’ll come around,” he mumbled.
After that small blip, it was only pleasant memories. I had to catch myself walking for the exit several times. In my heart, I was already charging the enemy battle lines. What kind of child lets their parent die twice?
Me, apparently.
Coatlie squeezed my neck reassuringly when I moistened her scales.
After a terrible eternity of this, the world faded, and I was back in the room with the portal. A furious Gyro was laying into Dryad. “I thought we agreed that this was too much.” She poked them in the chest.
They pushed her finger away. “It is exactly what they needed.”
“This always kills students! That’s way too lethal for a first-year seminar.”
I later learned that three of my peers never returned. At the time, I was too busy rushing from the hall up to the dungeons. I needed to fucking kill something.
By extremely good fortune, or looking up my schedule, X2 met me in the catacombs. “Would now be a good time to run that fungal dungeon?”
“I could kiss you,” I responded.
“Control yourself, woman! And here you got on Jeremiah’s case.” It sighed. “If only he knew how irresistible you found a purpose-built war machine. I’ve been telling him that a few golem prostheses would increase his favorable romantic outcomes.”
I chuckled and followed him. “I have it on good authority that girls love gun arms. The bigger the better.”
“Hmmm, perhaps his anxiety about barrel length was well founded.”
We continued making lighthearted jokes at Jeremiah’s expense until we reached the dungeon.
