163 Awoken

The world around me is fuzzy, as if I've been submerged underwater. A dull throb pulses in the back of my head. Without warning, my lungs scream for air. Instinctively, I gasp, sucking in a ragged breath, the coolness hitting my throat.

"Hahh!"

A sharp, agonizing pain shoots up from my leg. "Oh, fuck!" I groan, clutching at it. "Shit, it's broken."

Blinking, I try to take in my surroundings. I'm lying on a makeshift bed of straw, inside what appears to be a ramshackle hut. The walls are lined with worn-out wooden planks, and sunlight filters through gaps, creating an odd pattern of light and shadow. "Where the hell am I?" I mutter.

Pressing my palm to my aching forehead, I try to recall the last thing I remember. There was a fight, and that stranger with the chains... Everything else is a blur. "Ughh... when did I lose consciousness? I don't remember anything."

An involuntary laugh bubbles up from my throat. "I wouldn't make something as weak as this." I remark, glancing disdainfully at the hut's walls. But my humor is short-lived as a fresh wave of pain shoots through my body.

Closing my eyes, I focus inwardly, trying to make sense of the jumbled mess inside me. It feels like I've been reshuffled, my entire being altered. My aura and mana are in chaos, intertwined in a way that's completely foreign to me. "Ugh! Shit, everything's a mess," I grunt. "I better fix this."

Gritting my teeth against the pain, I sit up. Despite the agony, I focus on the familiar sensation of circulating my aura. At the same time, I direct my mana to flow through my core.

As I concentrate, the pain begins to subside, replaced by a newfound strength. My aura and mana start to settle, taking on their distinct paths. The sensation is exhilarating, like breaking through the surface of water and gasping for that first breath of fresh air.

Taking a deep breath, I let out a long sigh. "Apart from my seven broken bones, everything's fine," I muse, allowing a hint of irony to color my voice. Glancing at my hand, I marvel at the intricate patterns of my aura. "I'll leave the aura path connected to my nervous system for later. I'm sure Ilka has something to say about it."

Everything feels more vivid. I can distinguish the individual textures of the wooden planks on the walls, hear the faint rustling of leaves outside, and smell the earthy scent of the forest. It's like I've been reborn with heightened senses. "My reaction speed feels amazing," I think with a grin, flexing my fingers. "And I haven't even set it up completely..."

Suddenly, I snap to attention. A presence. I can feel someone approaching, the rhythmic footfalls against the forest floor. "No one should be here," I think, alarm bells ringing in my mind. "Where's Ilka? Is she sleeping?"

Choosing to play it safe, I remain utterly still, feigning unconsciousness. As soon as the intruder is within arm's length, with lightning speed, I lunge forward, wrapping my hand around his neck and pinning him to the ground.

He retaliates almost immediately, using a dislocation technique to free his trapped joint. The move is expertly executed, and I can tell he's no amateur. I watch, impressed, as he mimics my movements, mirroring my stance in an attempt to counter my next move.

"I'm not holding back right now. I don't have time for this," I think, my determination intensifying.

The dance between us intensifies, every move calculated and met with equal force. We're both matching each other, blow for blow, creating a dizzying whirlwind of punches, kicks, and flips. It's an exhilarating feeling, knowing that with one wrong move, the tables could turn in an instant.

Gaining some distance, the stranger pulls out his weapon of choice: a gleaming chain. "A chain, huh? How interesting," I muse, my eyes narrowing.

He lashes out with the chain, aiming straight for my midsection. But, with my heightened reflexes, I sidestep, avoiding the blow. I catch a glimpse of his grin as he manipulates the chain, bending it with the clear intention of ensnaring me.

"This is kinda disrespectful, you know," I say, a hint of amusement in my voice. Coating myself in a protective layer of mana, I also infuse the chain. I can feel the push and pull, a tugging war between my mana and his, each of us trying to seize control.

He's skilled, no doubt about it, but my control over mana has reached a near-obsessive level of precision. Our eyes lock, and I can see the determination in his gaze. But slowly, surely, I gain the upper hand, manipulating the chain until it wraps itself tightly around him.

I raise an eyebrow as the man starts to laugh, his deep chuckles echoing within the confines of the hut. Despite being bound in his own chain, he seems unfazed, almost amused.

Staring at him with an unchanging expression, I ponder his identity. "He's young, but he's not one of the students. I would've remembered someone with chains," I muse internally. Pushing that thought aside, my mind races to Ilka. "Where the hell is Ilka? Wait, she might've been forced back into Umbra."

His laughter dwindles as he speaks up, a grin etched on his face. "I did think I was weaker, but to lose so quickly... Hahahahaha. Fuck..."

"Who the hell are you?" I demand, my tone demanding answers.

He lets out a deep sigh and rolls his eyes, the smirk never leaving his face. "Damn... No thank you, huh?" Flopping down on the ground in a carefree manner, he continues, "I guess the man acting like an animal for nearly a week straight and nearly killing me at first sight would show no respect. I guess I expected too much. After all, helping someone eat normal food, not kill themselves, and take care of their injuries while they aren't sane doesn't deserve that." He stresses his point in a painfully sarcastic manner, trying to make me feel guilty.

I chuckle, unimpressed by his attempt at guilt-tripping. "Thank you for your help, but that won't get you out of this." Sitting down cross-legged, I continue, "This area is restricted to everyone; you shouldn't be here."

His grin widens, clearly enjoying our back-and-forth. "Well, aren't you just the most hospitable host? Here I thought we were friends after all the TLC I gave you."

Ignoring his jabs, I come to a decision. "I have no idea what to do with him, but I should start moving." Wrapping the chain around my hand, I begin dragging him as I rise to my feet. The man doesn't protest, but the smirk remains.

-

With a groan, I tug the Academy uniform over my body, grateful that it doesn't aggravate my injuries any further. I sit down opposite the stranger, studying him. He has an air of nonchalance, as if this is all just a minor inconvenience in his day.

"I'm going to need answers," I think, watching his movements carefully. "But how far am I willing to go to get them?"

"What's your name?" I finally ask, breaking the silence.

He yawns, stretching lazily. "Why am I the one being questioned? Didn't I help you out? You're clearly a student from that Academy. But even then, you're not supposed to be here." He smirks, inching closer, and I instinctively tense. "I was just looking for some herbs." With a casual air, he extends his hand towards me. "The name's Arion."

Before I can contemplate my next move, Ilka pops into existence, settling herself on my head as if it's her personal throne. "You're finally awake, took you long enough." Her gaze drifts to Arion, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Oh, he's still here."

Rubbing my temples, I ask, "Who is he?" The confusion in Arion's eyes is evident, but I don't linger on it.

Ilka yawns, stretching herself out like a cat. "He's a good kid. Granted, his techniques are shit, but he helped you even when you tried to kill him in your... less than sane state."

"So he's just some random?" I muse internally, weighing my options. "But what do I do with him?"

Arion, seeming to read the conflict in my eyes, chuckles. "Look, I get it. We're both not supposed to be here, but you don't owe me anything. Just let me go, and we can forget this ever happened."

I sigh, glancing at Ilka for guidance, but she just shrugs, her mischievous glint evident. "Your call," she says, clearly enjoying the drama unfolding.

Rubbing my forehead, a twinge of familiarity prods at me. "Arion... Why does that name tickle the back of my mind?" I glance at the man, still smirking, and try to sift through my memories.

A particular weight in my pouch distracts me momentarily, giving birth to a brilliant idea. "Hmmm," I ponder, letting the sound linger for dramatic effect. "He doesn't know anything about me, so there's hardly any risk here. But still... better safe than sorry." I chuckle internally, reminding myself of the reason I always carry certain items.

I reach into my pouch and produce some herbs. "Herbs, right?"

Arion's eyes light up. "You've got what I need?"

"Exactly," I smirk, loving the fleeting feeling of control. "But they come at a price. Sign this," I say, whipping out a magical contract shimmering with an alluring blue aura. It's my trusty non-disclosure magic contract. "I don't even need these herbs. He can have them once he signs. But why does it feel like I should recognize him?"

Without hesitation, Arion grins. "Alright, that's easy." He hastily signs without even scanning the terms.

I suppress a chuckle, thinking. What an idiot. I could've easily scammed him. Does he always sign things without even glancing over?

Catching my amusement, Arion asks, "Did I miss something?"

"Nah," I reply, smirking. "You're all good." With this, I'll be able to track him and have him keep his mouth shut. 

-

The warm water envelops my body, providing a brief moment of solace from the whirlwind of the past week. With a heavy sigh, I lay back, allowing the water's gentle embrace to wash away my fatigue. Every muscle screams in relief, but even as the tension slowly ebbs away, my mind races.

After a while, the weight of everything catches up to me. The mistakes made in my absence, that insufferable dragon, and the looming responsibilities. I can't afford any mishaps right now. Not after everything that's transpired.

Reluctantly, I pull myself from the bath, the cool air hitting my damp skin. Quickly dressing, my thoughts drift to Lysandra. It's been a while since we last spoke, and it's high time I checked in on her.

I approach her dorm, and without much ceremony, I push the door open. There she is, sprawled across her bed, looking like she's been through hell and back. The moment our eyes meet, hers shimmer with a hint of moisture, her voice filled with a plaintive whine. "Feeeed meeeee..."

Rolling my eyes, I mutter under my breath, "Of course. Why am I not surprised?" Aloud, I say, "Get ready. We're heading out. I'll feed you on the way." Trust Lysandra to make a dramatic entrance every single time.

Just as I step out of her dorm, I spot Isadora. It's hard to miss her, even though her demeanor is always so... neutral. There's a certain intensity in her stillness, an unwavering focus that's both eerie and fascinating. As I contemplate greeting her, she catches me off guard by staring directly at me, her gaze unyielding.

Before I can react, I instinctively reach into my bag and toss her a coconut. I did leave for a week so she might be mad she didn't get to bully me at the training grounds. Or maybe by some odd miracle, she actually missed me. Though, that's highly unlikely.