Aaron closed his eyes with a pained whimper.

Darkness.

He opened them again and felt the shudders of the fading adrenaline rush. The same darkness again. He could feel each breath in his back. I'm lucky the monsters didn't get my spine.

He tried shallow breaths, an unsuccessful attempt to reduce the pain. He let his hand run over his wounds. Wrists and ankles were torn up by claws, but the bleeding had already slowed.

His scalp hurt worse, and he had to blink blood out of his eyes regularly. Slowly, he lowered himself back into a lying position, but each movement of the back made him groan. Nothing to do about the bite wounds. But maybe I can relocate my arm joint?

Aaron frowned as he wiped the next load of blood out of his face. I guess the standard first-aid solution is to call an ambulance. Not happening.

The rough stone's cold began seeping into his back, painful and numbing at the same time. Okay, uniformed medical procedure number two. It can hardly go worse than me getting handed syringes, right?

Aaron stared at the arm, jaw clenched. No choice.

He bit down on his robe and grabbed the elbow, then reached over with his healthy—or at least healthier—arm. The wave of pain made him gasp. Nothing for it.

He pressed his eyes shut and bit down harder. Tensing his entire body made his back sting. Then he pushed the elbow hard—upwards and inwards.

Something popped.

But he only felt it through the haze of his scream. Suddenly there were dancing lights in the darkness. Then nothing.

When he came to again, the pain was duller—but ever-present.

Then he noticed the cold and stiffness. He took a few rasping breaths through his dry throat. There was a lake… somewhere.

He opened his eyes. The darkness remained unchanged—he had hoped for more, but his vision stayed a blank void.

Aaron tried to roll on his side, but the protest of his muscles sent sharp shockwaves that paralyzed him. Great. Now I might enjoy the experience of dying from thirst... Stop fucking lamenting.

He rolled the shoulder experimentally. Most of the pain's gone. Now I only have infected wounds all over my body and a bunch of broken ribs. Yay.

I need to warm my muscles back up. Otherwise hypothermia might get me before thirst. At least I've got options.

He let his hand run over his goosebump-prickled skin. Over the next while, he tensed muscle group after muscle group.

Focus. Tense. Scream. Repeat.

At times, dizziness forced him to take a break. How long was I out? Too long, obviously.

Then he tensed his body and brought his arm over. His back screamed at him like a klaxon and he fell back down. He took long, shallow breaths to calm the pain.

Exploring his wounds with his hands, he noticed they were all crusted over. Right. The locals have perverse healing abilities.

He got his leg into an angled position and grasped in the dark for anything solid. His hand found a protruding stone.

Good enough.

He took a few long breaths, each painful in its own way. Then, heart pounding, he bit down on the bundle again, let his knee fall, and yanked with the hand that lay across his body.

His head hit a sharp ledge and he groaned. But all the pain grew distant again.

Fuck…

He must have blacked out again.

The next thing he felt was cold stone grinding against his cheek. This time, he knew he was waking up from unconsciousness.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

The stone was lovingly embracing his face.

Aaron groaned, but this time his muscles weren't stiff. Slowly, he got on all fours. Each movement was painful. But I'm mobile again.

He crawled over to the Magister, carefully exploring each handspan with tired fingers. Blood-slick stone led him to his aspiring mentor. Is this what counts as malpractice here? Probably not. Still, screw this guy.

Aaron touched the body. He's probably dead. Hopefully he revives.

He found the body still warm. His hands ran over the blood-soaked robes, until they reached the spear impaling the man. The blood had dried at each wound. Finally, he found Charos' wrist. He waited.

Nothing.

Then, just as he let go, a slow pulse nudged his fingertip.

Then nothing.

Fifteen seconds passed — another pulse. A gurgle rattled up through the torn flesh of the man's throat. Well shit. Powerful mages sure are resilient.

Aaron knelt beside the man. How do I fix him? Do I tear out the spear and keep pressure on the wound? Maybe he regenerates. But this slow pulse… almost feels like a hibernation state. No reason you couldn't do that as a self-imposed medical coma.

Aaron let out a pained breath. Fuck it.

He planted one knee on the torso and grabbed the spear with both hands. Then he yanked hard—and gasped violently as he collapsed backwards, his fingers looking purchase on the bamboo shaft. The floor greeted him like an old friend.

Screw this. At least I'm not unconscious again. Forgot that I shouldn't lift with my back muscles.

He yanked again—once. Blood surged.

A second pull tore the spear free with a wet slide. Aaron didn't curse for himself this time. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He's bleeding out.

Warm blood soaked his hands. It should've disgusted him. Instead, it just made him shiver—and his back screamed in protest. Aaron bundled up the robe he had used for biting and pressed it into the wound using his knee. Not doing this with my back.

He opened and closed his eyes. Anger rose in him as it made no difference. What now? Water? Light?

He turned his head toward the door. Can I take the super-ape with the spear?

Aaron grimaced. It had taken spells that melted stone. Water first.

He closed his eyes and listened. Plop. A drop of water echoed through the dark—and Aaron froze. It was real. Not a hallucination. Not a memory. I hope.

It took Aaron a long while to figure out where the small lake he had seen was. He looked down at the mage slumped below him. "Fuck it. You're useless anyways."

He reached up, tore at the mage's robes, and began stuffing the blood-soaked fabric into the wound. This ensures it gets infected. But their healers probably don't care. And isn't he a fucking Archmage Pathomancer experimenting with symbiotic bacteria?

After a disturbing amount of cloth had gone into the wound, Aaron found a stone nearby and placed it on the bundle. Aaron smirked. That breaks all the first-aid rules.

Aaron pondered the situation for a moment, then found two more stones and lifted the legs up onto them. Might help with the blood loss? Who knows.

He began crawling toward the water, following his parched throat like a dog on a leash. His knees were a blood-slick mess by the time he finally found the soothing, cool liquid.

Aaron collapsed, buried his face, and drank. Best thing I've ever tasted.

Slowly, he maneuvered into the water, cleaning knees, ankles, and wrists. I can't stay here too long. Hypothermia is still a real risk.

Coming to a decision, he crawled away from the water and settled into a loose position. He closed his eyes and entered a different darkness altogether.

The Oblivion Road felt like coming home.

Soon, he floated in the well-lit void about his foundation pillar and metal shielding sphere. As he landed, he saw the journal. It looked as if it had been dunked in water. Still needs work.

He took a breath and his back still hurt. Looking himself over, he groaned. I am still messed up. But here, my will is supreme.

He concentrated on the injury and, within two breaths, his body was healed, clean, and dressed in a pristine robe. He groaned again—this time in relief. Now I only need to get this done in the real world.

"Quetzy?" Aaron invoked into the void.

Slowly, a hazy fragment of mist appeared before Aaron. Aaron heartbeat quickened. "What has happened to you?"

The rope of smoke twisted, and Aaron felt frustration. "BrokeLimiters. StabilizingBrainDamageNow."

Aaron froze. "Wait, brain damage?!"

The nebulous form radiated frustration in waves, making Aaron stumble back. "ThinkYouLearnCantripYourself? MeEnabledSpells. ButNeitherOfUsReady."

The words seemed to move away and closer, bit by bit. "Are you okay? How do we fix this?" Damn, that first question is really stupid.

"GladYouRealize. FindHealerMage." The voice only had some of its usual snarkiness.

Aaron smiled. "You can't be doing too bad if you still have attitude left in you." He frowned. "And it happens that I need to see a healer anyway."

Aaron fell silent and studied the swimming smoke ring. After a painfully long silence, he swallowed and spoke. "What can you do? What can we do?"

Quetzy flickered. "NoRememberWay. WillKeepBodyGoing. NotMore."

Aaron nodded. "Yeah. Figured."

He sat in silence. Then he looked into the depths of the moke and swallowed.

"Should I kill myself?"

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