Chapter 12: 11. Revenge

Genevieve sensed more than witnessed the demise of the drifter. She had confined herself to her cave for the past couple of days. The man she watched through her spiritual sense was her only entertainment other than the worry of her feigning powers.

Her worry has been immense as of late. Since the diminishing of her shadow barrier, Genevieve has been growing weaker and weaker. She used to be able to travel on her island freely. Any spot Genevieve pictured she could travel to. Now her spirit walking demands more mana, which she uses to keep the weakening barrier from completely falling.

Genevieve found that the more she observed the drifter, the less she worried and the more she began to hope. Perhaps this is the one who can help her and her people. While she didn't love the idea of seeking aid from a human, he is the only human that has walked these lands since she cloaked the island.

Now, even her small hopes are dashed as she watches the monster enter the drifter's new camp. Foolish man camped in the forest druid's domain.

Not yet awakened, the druid has long since ruled over the forest between the desert and the mountains. It grew in power and sentience as it devoured all that foolishly got caught in its realm.

To his credit, the drifter lasted longer than she thought he would against the druid. It wasn't exactly long. She just had real short expectations. Genevieve tried to send Fury to his aid; however, there was not enough time. Besides, her totem has been patrolling the barrier, a task that is now much more important.

Perhaps there is still hope. She will still have Fury to finish the task when the barrier falls. Maybe they will get lucky, and another suitable candidate will come along to complete the ritual. While she is lost in the illusions of hope, she imagines the horde will not return.

Out of respect to the fighter, Genevieve watches as the forest druid finishes him off. If only she were stronger...Much of her strength was spent years ago fighting for her survival.

"Farewell, Drifter. May you find better peace for your soul."

***

Power surged through the druid as it finished off the last of the strange foreigners. Unlike food before, this one was packed with power and mana. Already the druid could feel itself becoming stronger. Even the pain in its back was healing.

A few more meals like this, and the druid will be able to expand its territory. Maybe even push into the deep woods. Paying no attention to the useless stuff in the cave, the druid saunters on its way, hungry for more power.

 

***

 

Torn apart. Piece by tiny piece. As if I am a wave crashing upon the rocks, water exploding in every direction. I am ripped into thousands of parts and scattered like the mist lost in the wind.

Reality Fades in and out.

However, I never stagnate in this scattered state. Like the river assembling its mass into a body, my life flows back together. Piece by tiny piece. I am collected.

Finally, I wake up from the nightmare. Of all the dreams in my existence, that one was the most intense and vivid. Osmosis of all things. I didn't even know I knew that word. Not that I understand it, but if I did, I would use that dream as a prime example.

Did it have to feel so real? I'll be the first to say it. Dreams can be a real B-word. As far as ranking goes, dreams can be uppercase B, leaving the desert to be lower case b.

My body doesn't respond to my commands at first. A wicked case of sleep paralysis, most likely due to the intensity of my dream. At least I'm back in my bed. The mattress is so soft it is molding to my body.

Slowly, I regain control. I can open my eyes now, and unlike my dream, I can open both. It is good to be able to see again.

Rat bastard!

The sun. And sand. "No." "No." "No," I yell. I'm back in the desert…

The nightmare was real? That beast of a bear ate me for a midnight snack. What the freaking heck! What was that all about? If anything, I should be in the belly of the beast. Why am I in the desert? Damn bear! Sure we all get the munchies, but that seemed entirely inappropriate. In my house nonetheless!

"Rat bastards, all of them. The sun, sand, Munchy the Bear, and scorpions." The sudden rush of frustration and realization awakens me completely.

Indeed, I am back in the desert. The sun is still showing off as bright and beamy as ever. Sand is just as sandy as it was when I left it. Only thing missing from the slumber party is the scorpions which, no offense, I'm glad aren't present.

To my relief, my body is functioning as it should, even putting in the extra effort to ache everywhere. I sense my cores and find them as they were. Nine cores. Seven are empty, one is filled with death mana, and the other is just…well, it's something.

None of this makes any sense.

I died.

At least I'm pretty sure I died. How does one wake up dead?

Why am I back in the desert? And why do I have no memories of my previous life? Also, what the hell, random bear? And for the love of all that is good and holy, where are my shoes?

"Sand-blasted bear, and the sun-blasted desert, and the sun-blasted heat!" Despite not being a good cursing session, it conveys my frustration adequately.

Well, one thing is for sure. Kel was a real stupid name. And bears are the worst. Freaking Kel can't even escape an overgrown bear.

Ken!

That's right, my name is Ken. Always have been and will be a Ken. Ken is objectively alphabetically and phonetically superior to Kel. And unlike Kel, I'm not going to be beaten by a silly wooden bear. And on top of that, I, Ken, now have a life's purpose.

Revenge.

And it's not some silly revenge on the desert plot conspired by dead people like Kel. Nope.

This is real.

I have a purpose, and I'm super motivated. It's bear slaying time, and I'm on the hunt. Yup, things are looking brighter for Ken.

Full of purpose, I turn to the mountains and head west. The hunt begins.

***

Interesting, Genevieve mused to herself. He isn't dead. How did he end up in the desert? Very peculiar. Focusing her senses, the spirit walker reaches out and examines the drifter more thoroughly.

Very peculiar indeed. What is going on with the drifter's cores? It isn't the death core that brought him back to life. Maybe he could resurrect if he was a high-powered life core of sage rank. Drifter, however, is only at the rook rank, and yet...She digs deeper taking advantage of the years of training she spent honing her soul perception...His cores…?

In all her years, Genevieve couldn't recall seeing a soul like Drifters. Nine layers, one of them being the prime core. Very few cultivators make it as far as this man apparently had. Yet only the second layer is filled with mana, and the others empty. How?

Most absurd is his prime core. Obtaining a prime core is no easy feat. It is one of the last significant transitions of becoming a Mage. However, the drifter's prime core, his first layer, is not attributed to death mana like the second. It isn't attributed to any mana. It is filled, but with what?

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Who is this man? How did he end up here?

Once again caught up in the stranger's company, Genevieve found herself observing as much as she could with her spirit senses.

***

The walk is pleasant. Sort of. I am pretty upset about not having my shoes. However, I'm setting a much better pace than the first desert stroll. Even noticing more things now than I did back then.

Kel must have been real tunnel-visioned. There are cactus and sage scattered all throughout. The sand isn't too bad once you get down to it.

Sure it's hot and incredibly uncomfortable to walk in. And yet it has its own unmistakable beauty. Maybe it's the dunes or the local fauna refusing to give in to the heat. It could be all of it. This place isn't bad.

Certainly isn't great, but it's not bad.

Ken is a lover of all things dry and warm. I decide for myself.

I summon bones and take the opportunity to review all my thoughts with him, from the confusing rebirthing, new name, and finding a purpose—to the beauty of the sands. He probably doesn't want to hear any of it. However, he has yet to voice any objection, and I'm tired of keeping all my thoughts to myself. Sometimes it's nice to be heard.

"Just look at this beautiful world we have to explore. We got sand. There's cacti and variations of cacti. Sage can be used as a source of fire. The ground is soft enough to sleep on. Why would we leave? We could stay here if we wanted. We could leave the forest behind.

"Maybe water will be a problem. We could build a trench from the river out into the desert...Hmm, maybe not a trench. That is a lot of work. You could build a trench! Maybe I could summon two or three of you. You will be my trenchman. Turning this sandy pit into an oasis is a new goal of mine." I say, directing my new ambitions towards Bones.

"Maybe revenge isn't a great purpose. That's the problem with my new self. So full of life and quick to embrace a cause. What if the previous self had it right? Turning the desert into an even more pleasant place not only serves a just purpose of retribution, but it also seeks to improve rather than tear down.

"He was lazy, but Kel was wise. I'll give him that." Despite my words, we keep hiking the desert dunes towards the forest. Bones is quiet, and though a few steps ahead, he stays close by, listening like an interested friend. Or so I assume. It is hard to tell with skeletons. Bones' expressions are void of life.

"The current lack of bear beasts is also comforting. Though a bear hide lining the desert mattress would be a fantastic bed… No.. maybe. What if—" I pause for the dramatic flair. "—We go back to the forest, collect a hide, return to the desert, turn it into a luxury oasis and then charge a premium on this wonderful destination get away?

"That is it. I was an innkeeper in my former life. I lived to keep people housed and comfortable, offering the best night of sleep and breakfast in all the lands. Tired of the dreary locations, I came to the desert looking for the next big getaway. To get the freshest ideas, I tampered with my mind. I might have accidentally tampered too much, causing me to forget my memories instead of just overused industry standards.

"That's got to be it. Now, I don't even need to seek my memories. I have them all here. Mostly. What I have can be enough for me.

"Life in the desert isn't bad, Bones. It just isn't. People will love it here. I am sure of it." I try convincing my walking companion and maybe a little bit of myself. "The lack of competition alo—" Just as I'm about to finish my closing argument, an abomination of a beast crests the dune we are hiking.

Before I can determine what it is, the monster begins charging at me, excessively aggressive. Stampeding down the dune, the monster kicks up a ton of dust, blurring my vision.

Bones stands at the ready. I'm a brave six feet behind him. Quickly descending down the hill, the cloud of sand gets closer and closer along with whatever monster is inside.

Exploding from its cover, a behemoth of a scorpion catches Bones in a claw bigger than the skeleton's entire form.

"Welp." Escapes someone's lips.

Snapping its claw, the scorpion breaks my skeleton in half. Maniacally it simultaneously bites and stings, ravaging Bones in a matter of seconds. Remains of my once livelier minion dissipate as I recall and begin to summon my minion once more.

Time is ticking, and I need more of it.

One second. I start running, willing my mana to take form.

Two seconds. My heart is pumping, my hands are creating the outline of Bones.

Four seconds. I can hear the sand parting a short distance behind me. The beast is closing in.

Six seconds. I'm running even harder now, cursing the sand for its lack of resistance, forcing my pale energy to take shape. Every step is more time.

Eight seconds. Noises from behind come to a stop. I spare a glance behind to see the space is now empty. I turn my head back in time to see the monster scorpion erupt from the desert sands blocking my path.

Every step now leads me closer to death.

I jolt to a stop.

Before me, the monster scorpion is easily five times larger than the scorpions I had encountered previously. And faster. Much faster. Maybe even a little more clever too.

In the moment between action, Bones finally appears. Instantly he rushes toward the monster.

Tactfully I turn and retreat, fully embracing the cowardness of Ken. Maybe if I wasn't just mauled by a bear, I'd be more inclined to go fist to claw with such a spectacular monstrosity. As it is right now, I'd much prefer not to engage. And so I'm booking it.

Bones has the command to distract the scorpion as long as possible. Hopefully, he will forgive me for abandoning him. He'll see reason in my survival being the best for the both of us...hopefully. If we survive.

Sweating profusely, I sprint through the desert, retracing my steps. I'm desperately trying to come up with a plan. I need protection. A shield forms in my hand. I need a way to defend myself. A long sword is summoned for my other hand. Marginally better equipped, I keep running, hoping for a better plan. Living hell, I'd even settle for a place to hide instead of a plan.

Running has taken me a reasonable distance. I'm a bit shocked to see that I have outlived my stamina to sprint. More of a surprise, mana from Bones has yet to return. I'm hopeful he's still distracting king scorpion.

Setting a slower pace, not so much by choice, I'm looking for somewhere to hide. I might be able to bury myself... Intense pain ignites in my back and then explodes to my chest.

I can't take another step—more pain bursts through me. Everywhere hurts. No part of my body will respond. Catching a glimpse before they darken, my eyes see the massive stinger piercing my heart and chest.

It won't be long now.

If I were forced to pick the better death experience between bear and scorpion—well, for one, I wouldn't because that sounds like the world's worst game—but let's say I was forced at claw point to make a decision. If that were the case, I would have to say that death by scorpion is my preference.

At least with the scorpion, the sting of death is accompanied by melodious sounds of screeching and snapping that become the haunting tune to my farewell song.

My only regret is that the scorps robbed me of my ability to party as I fade out of existence.

***

"No!" Genevieve watches the end of the mystery man. "Not like this. Not again." She wasn't aware of the newfound hope she placed in the stranger now being crushed again. This time she keeps hope alive. Maybe he will find a way to live again.

Hours pass, and no signs of the drifter. The day turns to night. Genevieve expands her senses to cover her whole island. Still no signs of him. Night returns to day only to return once more. He is gone… and with her acceptance, her hope fades.

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