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I opened my eyes sixty-one minutes later. I felt rejuvenated. I hoped that it was enough to let me storm a cave with an army of goblins.

There were still sixty goblins or more. I had to fight with that in mind.

After a deep breath to prepare myself, I entered the cave. Unlike the night sky, my left eye did not give me light here. So I muttered an English chant to create a ball of flame in my hand for illumination.

The darkness shrank into creepy dancing shadows.

I reengaged my vision of the past, but could see nothing. Goblins probably could see in this darkness, thus they didn't need light. And I probably could only see what I would have seen.

As I inspected the unmarkable ground, I heard jeering in the goblins' vile chatter.

I stepped lightly, running on the balls of my feet. I carefully placed each step, guided only by my firelight and the goblins' sound.

The tunnel branched off in several directions, many times forking the "main path".

Things were going smoothly until I rounded a corner. As I stepped around, ready to charge, a short, scrawny humanoid figure slammed into my waist and fell on its butt with a grunt. Four others squealed in surprise. Five goblins versus one me. Seemed fair.

I used my chant from the night before to recall my ember blade, and took the initiative against the surprised fiends. With a quick swing, I split the one on the ground in half vertically. The other four scampered over to me, drawing their jagged bone knifes and attacking. Once again, It was as though I saw the future, being able to anticipate each strike.

I cut another in two diagonally. It screamed out in pain before collapsing to the ground.

The other three slashed at me desperately. I think one of them found their mark, making a shallow cut in my right arm.

I swung my blade down on another goblin. They weren't actively dodging, which made it easier to hit them.

Their numbers dropped with each cycle. I stood alone in a bloody mess two swings later.

I kept my blade active. I suspected it would take less energy to maintain it until the next inevitable combat than to summon it again then.

I didn't have a number on this magic energy, or how much I had, but I could tell there was a limit. I decided to refer to it as mana, as that was the common name for magic energy in fantasy stories.

Summoning the sword cost a chunk of mana, and continued to drain it while I had it manifested.

Returning to my rescue mission, I heard running footsteps further along the path.

My stealth was gone. They knew I was here. I charged towards the sound, no longer muffling my footsteps with careful technique. It was fine if they knew that vengeance was coming.

I encountered the next group of goblins after forty seconds of running. Once again, it was a group of five. And once again, they fell to my burning blade..

Fifty-four seconds of running later, I found myself in an open cave room. The ceiling was in place, but it was bright as an open plain at midday. A runic circle with two pentagrams was sketched over the floor, connected by lines. Steph lay in her strictly bound position and unconscious in the center of the circle. Around the edges of the circular, domed room, ten women stood chained to the wall. One over each of the points of the dual-pentagram.

The hooded figure stood, off-center and looking at me. The shadows of his hood still hid his face.

"So..." he drawled, "you did not die from nagunt overuse. Quite interesting, warrior."

I could only guess from context that nagunt was their word for mana.

"Yes," I replied, raising my black stone sword.

"God of Stone, stop my target." he chanted, pointing at me.

My body froze. I couldn't move.

"Goblins! Be useful and hold this fool down while I conduct the ritual."

Some gratitude he had for the creatures that carried the hostages for him.

I was tackled from behind, knocking me flat on my stomach. My arms were spread to either side, and I felt goblins sit on them as well as my back. The magical paralysis wore off, but I was still unable to move.

The hooded man began to chant. Some of it English, some of it common. Put simply, he was offering sacrifices to the God of Time. Kalamay had never taught me about the God of Time. I think he also used the common term for "Forgotten God", but I couldn't be sure with my current grasp of the language.

The chalk lines in the ground glowed a mystical purple, and the women around the edges of the room screamed into their gags. Purple essence flowed from them across the lines drawn. That was probably their mana. One by one, the screams died out as the women collapsed against their chains.

After five had collapsed, the hooded mage stepped into the center of the glowing circle and drew a knife.

"No!" I shouted, reverting to my native language, "Stephasha!"

I think I saw the hooded figure smirk as he plunged the knife into Steph's unresisting back. Blood began to trickle away.

My senses slowed. Two long seconds of paralyzed confusion. Then a flood of power. Mana. Tendrils flowed from the circle into me.

"Get off," I growled in English. The goblins screamed in confusion as they were thrown off. One slammed into the wall on my left. I paid it no heed as I stood.

"You-- You're absorbing the ritual!" he shouted.

"Your god refuses your sacrifice." I responded, before repeating my sword conjuration phrase.

Everything slowed around me as I leapt to the hooded figure. I ran him through with my sword.

His hood fell back. The middle-aged adult rapidly aged. his face wrinkled. His hair grayed, then fell out. Then his very flesh rotted away. His skeleton decayed next, falling to dust.

I hesitated for two more seconds. I had killed a man. On my sword.

Then I spun 180 degrees and collapsed to my knees by Stephasha. "God of Fire, destroy these ropes!."

In an instant, the ropes were ash, and Steph's body flopped. I flipped her over onto my lap, ignoring the blood that was staining my pants. I put my hands over her wound.

"Goddess of water! Heal her wounds!"

I felt the power channel, but it wasn't working fast enough.

"Mumph," she murmured.

I paused from the healing to look Steph in the eyes. She was still gagged. I pinched the gag between my fingers and commanded the God of Fire to destroy it.

"Thank you, Argolex." she said quietly.

"I can still save you! Just hold on!" I restarted the healing, tears beginning to form in my eyes.

"Thank you for your words on the roof."

"Don't tell me goodbye. You'll make it!".

"Thank you for accepting me."

"Just hang on!"

"Argo. Calm down. I don't know what you're saying."

My concentration broke. Wait... I had been talking to her in English.

She smiled. "Since that first night on the roof, I wanted to say something."

"Wait," I said, this time in common, "tell me when you healed."

"I think... I think I love you."