Theron sputtered awake, coughing out scorching, painful breaths.
The rays of the sun felt like the devil’s saber to his eyes, and yet the first thing he noticed was that his right hand was empty.
Even when he lost consciousness in the river, Theron never lost track of his weapons a single time. The first lesson he had taught himself was that his blades were his lifeblood. Even if he died, he would continue to hold onto them.
Then the memories flooded into his mind.
Blurry exchanges, faint words, crackling, and pain. They wove together to paint the story of what had happened the night before, the faint medicinal power rotating through his body, confirming everything that he recalled.
After he had been struck by Raiden, he hadn’t completely lost consciousness. Instead, he sank further into Veinsong, his body churning with life and diverting the deathly Lightning Mana within him away.
‘… He took father’s sword…’
Theron stared at the skies, ignoring the pain in his eyes as though he deserved to feel every bit of it.
It was hard to tell how long he lay there for. But eventually, he began to crawl.
His skin peeled off him, and soon, he was leaving trails of blood in the grass. Every slide chipped another piece off him, but the pain was like a tonic, a douse of water pouring over his fury.
Every time he thought of standing, of rushing toward wherever Raiden might be, of taking his head off for daring to touch one of the few things his parents had left for him, another spike of pain came.
It centered him, reminding him of the state he was in, reminding him of just how casually Raiden had landed him in such a position.
One hand after another, one tearing rip of charred skin after one gushing stream of blood.
His hand trembled as he raised it up, pulling the dagger out of the soft soil and piercing it forward again. The earth threatened to peel back, so he could only grasp it with his free hand.
As though a reminder of his missing sword, he gripped it hard, what remained of his nails digging through the stone and dirt, clawing at it and clenching it as firmly as his body would allow.
The sound of water finally reached him. It should have long ago, but even his ears were compromised. It felt like there wasn’t a single inch of his body that wasn’t injured in some way.
But it wasn’t compromised enough that he didn’t hear the shift in the grass and the deep growl that followed it.
Theron ignored it, not even wasting the energy to look over. It didn’t matter what beast it was, or how strong it was. It could have been the weakest of feral beasts, and it would have still been able to shred him to pieces.
All that mattered was making it to shore, to the water. He had to make it to the water.
The growl got closer. Theron was sure he would have felt the heated breath if his sensory perception wasn’t completely thrown off now.
But what he did feel was the graze against the bottom of his foot.
It sniffed at him, tasting his blood, chewing at the pieces of flesh that fell from him.
The scent of blood seemed to overwhelm the creature, its growls growing deeper and deeper.
But the Mana coming off of Theron was making it hesitate. Even now, the Lightning Mana hadn’t completely vanished, still sparking across his skin from time to time.
The beast flinched as a spark hit it. It twitched in place, its body furiously quaking. Blood leaked from its snout and eyes.
It was just a faint wisp, and the damage lasted for only the briefest instant, but the fear was very real.
While it didn’t have such complex thoughts, if it were to eat Theron, how much worse would it be?
The beast turned and ran.
Not once did Theron look back; he didn’t even notice that the beast had left or that the growling had vanished.
All he knew was that he didn’t stand a chance against any creature right now, so there was no point. He cruelly and frostily made the only decision he could.
If he died, then that was just his Fate. But he knew that this was the smartest decision for him.
And then…
His hand finally touched water.
The soothing cold licked against his charred skin, and for a moment he felt relief.
Just the slightest moment before he was quickly overwhelmed again.
He pulled, the gravel of the shore sticking into his tender, torn flesh. He could feel every sharp edge, every rolling stone.
But nothing burned worse than his rage.
The water enveloped him and he sank in deep. Veinsong played in his head, the thumping of his heart raging in his ears.
Then he gasped for breath.
This time, he did it on purpose.
Once again, he made the cold, calculated choice. If he drowned, then he drowned. But he knew that he was mere moments from death. If Raiden’s initial attack hadn’t torn him to shreds, then crawling here and tearing a layer of tender flesh off his body certainly did.
Severe burns were enough to kill a person. Peeling a layer of skin off yourself and exposing the most fragile parts of your body to the elements was even worse than that. He could already feel himself going into shock.
The medicine that Sadie had injected him with was strong—stronger than he had ever experienced—but it was only enough to help him survive through the night.
If he wanted to live…
This was his only chance.
He gasped for breath and water flooded his body.
But this time, he didn’t choke.
This time, a cooling sensation filled him all the way through.