First page of the second book of Smrt's life

It is said that on the night of the full moon many unexpected things can happen, but not everyone believes in such things, even though they perhaps should.
It was a night like many other. The night was dark, with only the full moon giving light. The trees swayed as the frigid air blew though them. It was a night that unless a creature needed to be out they would not be, and even than they would hate it.
But what makes this night special was the fact that between the swaying trees, in an unmarked spot, laid a body of a big man.
As a worm was moving over this spot a gust of steam rushed upwards, scaring the worm into moving faster. Earth moved and then again stillness.
A moment passed, then two, and then earth moved again. The sounds of breaking bones, piercing flash and a couple of short yelps destroyed the silence.

Smrt awoke, in the complete darkness, a huge weight on his chest and head. He tried moving his hands, but the mix of pain and restrained made that impossible. He started panicking. "Am I chained again?" he thought. He opened his eyes but something fell in. Tenebrous surround did not let him move. He tried forcing his arms, still no progress. He tried some more. Unreal pain shut from different points on his arms.
The tried calming down but there was no chance of that. He hadn't felt so weak since he was a child.
He tried for the third time moving. This time he pushed with his whole body, and slowly the weight became lighter, and the pain greater. Still he pushed, as that gave him more strength.

The grass on the ground started to rip as the body under it tried to come out. From a rip four marble-like white stones came and moved rapidly. Turning on an invisible axis. The stones became longer and longer until it could be certain that those were no stones but fingers of a dead man's hand. About two feet from the hand another one came out, grabbing the ground from which it just came, looking for leverage. The dead man slowly rose moving the ground that was on him, leaving a hole behind.

The chilling breeze made the pain milder. Still Smrt could feel it every couple of inches, like a knife still stuck in a wound. He moved slowly not to make the pain worse. Climbing out, other sensations started to reemerge. He felt the dirt between his toes, he felt the unusual position of his left arm, he felt pressure on his thought he felt the half decomposed bag over his head and the emptiness in his mind. He lifted his left arm to see that pained him, but the movement caused breaking and ripping and what once felt like knives now grew to swords and burning coals shooting directly to his brain. Smrt tried to scream but his throat did not move, his eyes bulged, and he fell to his knees. The awful sensation in his left arm stopped, and he used it to rip the rope around his neck. Free from restriction a mess of earth and worms blasted from Smrt's mouth to the ground, leaving no taste behind. "What had happened? Where am I?" Smrt though, still not even being sure of who or what he was. Lifting himself up he leveraged his body on his knee standing up, naked. He moved slowly as the moonlight was not enough for him to see what really was that hurt him. He was trying to find a brighter spot as the pain he felt came and went like ticking of a clock. Coming to the edge of the forest Smrt stood on the ledge overlooking the sea. He looked at himself, all the scars that he had on his arms, legs and torso. The cuts that were stitched together and healed in some way, made him more afraid. His eyes widened, as he stood in full glow of the full moon, and as he saw the beauty of it all, like a hit to the head his brain remembered.
"MARI" he whispered in a raspy broken voice. Smrt froze and in a moment, like the one where he awoke, his eyes closed, and he lost consciousness. Without proper commands his muscles relaxed, and he fell, rolling over the ledge and into the water below.


As the sun was starting to come up, giving everything an orange tinge, Smrt's unconscious body got washed upon the shore of Amber Island. Every wave moved the body more into the coast until one of them finally broke his senselessness. Smrt's eye shot open, and he quickly got up. He remembered the pain and but now there was none, only the scars remained. Seeing himself naked, made him shy and luckily near him stood a piece of cloth that once belonged to a ship sail. He warped his body in it, and thought about what he could remember. His eyes darted left and right as he was thinking.
"What had happened? Where am I?" but the trees and the water gave him no signs.
"I must find something to get me to Mari."
Smrt slowly moved away from the sea hoping to find something or someone to tell him where and when he was.

WC: 897

Stepping on sand, Smrt's legs trembled, all the muscles ached with every step. He felt dullness in his feet that would be interrupted by the shocks that came and went unannounced. His nerves were waking up, and trying to wiggle his toes mid step somehow made the discomfort bearable. He knew he was dead last night and now he was not. It made him uneasy, it made him question everything, but mostly it made him sad. He did not know what had happened to him and Mari and that broke him to the point of tears. Quick flash of blue energy and sparkles blazed midair breaking Smrt's thought patterns, and getting him back to the moment. A girl appeared.

Smrt saw here but did not give here much thought. "Great, a kid. Maybe she can show me to an adult." he thought. Smrt did not really like kids, they made him think of his childhood, his friends and the labs, and at that moment it was the last thing he should have been thinking about.  He opened his mouth to say something, but his gut started to hurt, and he felt fear.
The girl was much smaller than him in stature. He overshadowed her, but the magic power she possessed was much greater. Smrt could feel it, it was like he could taste it, burning in her like a fire. Just her power felt like he was standing  in front a mountain. He felt like a drop in front of the ocean, even his former master was nothing compared to her. He feared her not just because of the amount but the fact that she may have been what the scientist were trying to make out of him. A wizard among humans, a demon among monsters, a god among mages. He felt awe. His brain went blank. He wanted to learn from her.

She spoke in a carefree voice, destroying his imagination world and pulling him back to realty. Smrt swallowed slowly and the taste of earth from the night before came back.
"What?..." he said confused, his raspy broken voice took a lot for him to use. He looked at himself and his scars.
"What... year?... Who... you?..." he said breaking his speech, trying to communicate. His vocal cords were still too weak for conversation.
He grabbed his neck, massaging it on the sides. He wasn't sure what he had to do, but in his mind one thing was certain he needs to join this guild to learn from such a strong mage.
"Cloths... please..." he said realizing that he is still naked.

WC: 434 TWC: 1905

Today was propping up to become a more...unique day. Illya, no not the rambling pinkette whose mouth was well known and almost feared by the civilians of Amber Island, but the more timid and less sociable of the two. She remained blissfully unaware of the current going ons while taking a small day trip out of the guild hall in order to pursue a book from the local library here. While her mobus operandi was shielding her desires as nothing more than "guild work" than personal pleasures, in truth, it was only the reason of catching up to the most recent edition of the book series she was following. There were likely better ways to go and order steamy romance novels than having them delivered to a place where other people were out and about seeking knowledge and anything than to get their jolly rocks off. So as the murmurings of a strange large man washed ashore began to spread through the town like wildfire, Illya couldn't help but grow curious. Being a part of Dies Irae was practically a duty in itself when it came to situations like this. So did this mean that she was supposed to go and scan around to make sure the surrounding lands weren't in danger or anything? While a terrifying prospect in itself for the socially anxious Illya, there must have been some part of her that pushed onwards out of the town and towards the beached man. Maybe if she was lucky, he would be dead. Well, it was kind of a macabre train of thought to be on but at least it would make her job a little more easier to manage.

Well, both fortunately and unfortunately, the Illya's trip must have taken a bit longer compared to the more gifted mages of the guild. She arrived around the time when the hulking male, towering over one of the higher ranked members of the guild, Sivvy, as she could only smile up at the man who has washed ashore only but recently. So he was in good enough health to stand before the maiden. He wasn't attempting to attack, which was a pretty good indicator of his intentions. So it looked like Sivefe would have this in the bag. Still, she did want some brownie points, so Illya would walk towards the two and carefully talk her place right beside Sivvy, ready to jump back and scream at a moment's notice.

"S-Sorry I'm late. I was, uh, picking up something...But it's nice to see you've taken care of the man washed ashore, ma'am."

WC: 432 || Illya's WC: 432 || Group WC: 2337

Smrt was presently surprised by the presence of the second girl. Her pink hair did look unnatural to Smrt, but he refrained from any comments partly due to his broken vocal cords, but mostly cause his white hair was also unnatural in color. Normally,  Smrt would have smiled at them both but the pain he felt put such actions at the back of the line, far back. Survival was much more important than acting nice.
The blue energy, that teleported them all, felt warm to Smrt. He could feel it in his gut, warming him from the inside. It was not heat as such that he felt, but more like an energy or a feeling. A memory long forgotten and now remembered. In a weird way he felt home, and he did not like it at that time. Still he kept quiet, for now.
The infirmary, in which they appeared, scared Smrt. It was too clean, it was too well staffed. It looked too much like the one in which he was tortured. Still survivor was his main goal, so he forced his fear down, he swallowed his pride. He sat on the bed per instruction and patiently waited for the nurses to help him.

Smrt's eyes widened. He was still trying to hide his fear, but it was hard. He was in a legal medical facility that had a mage, whose power he could not measure. It was like a living nightmare, all his phobias into one. He did not want to die. He wanted to live, and find Mari, and investigate what had happened to him. He needed to play nice, or this was the end for him.
When Smrt opened his mouth to speak air started rushing in. His throat was partly healed, even though a few hours ago it was crushed.
"I am..." he spoke, forming words, some when he was exhaling some when he was inhaling, which ever was easier. He made pause, not sure if he could tell the truth or even if a lie could pass them. He only had a moment to think, and he decided that maybe it was time for a new leaf.
"I am Smrt. I think I was killed. I do not know how I am alive now."
Smrt could feel some strange tingles in his mouth, his throat and on his palm that was cut on a sharp rock on the beach. He looked at his hand, and to his surprise there were silver colored threads next to his wound. The threads moved such that they closed his cut, sewing it shut. He could feel that the threads came from within, and that they were made from pure ethernano. The threads lost their silver glow after the cut was fully closed, and looked like scar tissue on his palm. He hoped that the girl saw nothing, mostly because he was afraid that they would test on him.
"You said, this is a legal guild. What is its name?"

WC: 501
TWC: 3201

There she went again, leading the charge. Illya couldn't help but give a pout hidden behind the veil of concern that was shown towards their friend here who had washed ashore. Many of the officers here were so much more confident and more of a leader than she could hope to be. The second Illya felt a feeling of despair swell up within her stomach. Even a few months in the guild already and she had still felt like there was a literal mountain's worth of training she had to do to reach the level of strength in terms of both magic and confidence that needed to be done. So when it came for Sivy to announce that she'd be teleporting them back, the less talkative Illya could only manage to stutter out a weak, "We-Well, actually, ah-I..." until it was much too late to protest her leave here. She still had business to attend to though the idea of leaving a wounded man among the shore despite being in the care of a woman who far exceeded her own capabilities. An azure field of glimmering lights surrounded them as the trio soon left the open beach area and in the matter of an instant, blink into the medical bay of Dies Irae where Illya felt her feet against the hardened floor of the ground. Illya remained quiet still, twiddling her fingers in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. She was mentally kicking herself for allowing herself to be moved around like this but stupid Illya's...her own mind was preventing any sort of resistance to flow out of her. Before Illya could find any sort of word to flow out of her regarding her forced movement, Sivy would turn to her with an important task: getting food for their patient here and a slice of cake for the Ambassador.

"Right away, M-Ma'am!" The stuttering subordinate would hurry out of the room, not wanting to be any more of an eyesight than she was already being. The door shut behind her while Illya began her journey towards the mess hall in her ever troubled state. She went through the glory filled hallways and passed by a few of the many members who greeted her appearance. Each was met with a timid wave while making a light job through the hallways. Along the way, there came a one sided mirror which the girl peered into. A pang in her chest brought a feeling of longing for those lovely brown locks of hair she once kept so taken care of. Had Illya the some volume and length of hair, she would have kept the same hairstyle from before. Fingers tussled through her pinkish lavender hair and pushed her glasses further up once more before moving through the doors to the mess hall.

The collection of food was pretty straightforward. While she likely would have asked what the man had wanted, he would likely be much to caught up to answer for his specific tastes. So the next best thing was just to get one of everything and let him sort it out later. With two trays in both hands, the neophyte would explain the situation to the workers and begin shoveling food into plates and bowls for the man. He was large, so his stomach was most likely double his own size. Men had always seemed to work like that. After getting all loaded up on food, she grabbed a slice of red velvet cake for the Ambassador per her own request. Then came the long task of going all the way back to the mess hall. The trip was taken at a much slower pace to ensure that nothing was dropped onto the floor. Illya already had night terrors about dirtying the carpet or floor and being forced to clean it by hand by Johann. Her travel to and back took around three or four minutes at most, with the door being opened by her foot as the girl pushed her way back inside.

"I apologize for t-taking so long. I didn't know what he would like." she said, gently setting down both trays of food on the closest surface within Smrt's range and then handing Sivy her slice of cake when the moment was most opportune. Of course, one plate containing french fries, would be her payment for such a trip, as her hands gently began to make short work of the side dish while watching the other two with a keen eye. "Is he in good health?" Illya asked the Ambassador. "He looks better than he did on the beach at least..."

WC: 772 || Illya's WC: 1204 || Group WC: 4405

"Thank you, Illya Aoshara. You've been a big help," Sivvy said with a smile in the Neophyte's direction, taking her cake and doing her best not to devour it at an alarming rate. She had no chill with snacks, but this situation called for more tact and restraint. "I believe he'll be just fine," the clone assured the other pinkette in the room, already taking note of a few things about the man. Then her carmine eyes turned to her guildmate properly. "You mentioned you were picking something up earlier. You don't have to stay if you don't want. Do you need me to send you back to town?"

The self-repair that the strange man was undergoing didn't go unnoticed by the ambassador, but she remained silent on the matter. Even to someone as emotionally stunted as Sivvy, it was fairly evident that this man was wary, if not a little scared of what was going on around him. Why? She didn't know. Maybe it was just the circumstances of his arrival...which was apparently coming back from the dead. That would be rattling to be sure. If there could be anything good about this very strange situation, it was that the infirmary personnel would probably not have to do anything. Maybe a good meal and some clothes would be the cherry on top for his recovery. The food was taken care of, and moments later a nurse arrived and produced a plain gray shirt and pant set made of soft cotton. She placed the folded garments on the bed beside the man.

"Nice to meet you, Smrt. This is Dies Irae," she answered him, finishing her delicious cake and placing the plate on an unused table nearby. It was worrisome that he said he'd been killed. The work of a dark mage, maybe? She hadn't read any paperwork on someone with his description being eliminated by anyone in the guild. There weren't any bounties out for a 'Smrt'. Considering this island was a Fioran territory west of Minstrel, it was very difficult to blind guess what happened that brought him here. "Do you remember anything else?" Sivvy asked. She wanted to know more about who was sitting in her infirmary and how he ended up here.

[wc: 376 || thread wc (I double checked it): 4349]