The guest room adjoined Baron Ashworth's private hospice—a privilege reserved for those who had rendered exceptional service to the realm. Sunlight streamed through tall windows, casting gentle patterns across the stone floor, but Lukan found no comfort in the warmth. His weathered hands clasped and unclasped as he studied Alph's peaceful expression, so young and unmarked by the violence that had claimed so many others.
The apothecary's words echoed in his memory like a funeral bell: "His vitals are stronger than I've ever recorded, but if he doesn't wake within three days, the chances of recovery drop to almost nothing." Tomorrow would mark that deadline.
Lukan's throat tightened as he watched the boy who had saved their town. He looked almost childlike in sleep, reminding Lukan painfully of the nephew he'd lost to plague years ago.
"Come on, lad," Lukan whispered, his voice rough with exhaustion. "You've been through worse than this. Remember that corrupted bear? You came back from that fight ready to take on the world."
The only response was the distant murmur of voices from the corridor beyond. Lukan rubbed his eyes, feeling every one of his forty-three years weighing down his shoulders. He'd barely slept since they'd brought Alph here, afraid that if he looked away for even a moment, the boy might slip away entirely.
A soft knock interrupted his vigil. The heavy door creaked open to reveal Geoffrey Wincott, his usually immaculate trader's garments wrinkled from hasty travel. The merchant's eyes immediately found Alph's still form, and his expression tightened with concern.
"Any change?" Geoffrey asked quietly, stepping into the room with the careful movements of someone entering a sacred space.
Lukan shook his head, gesturing to an empty chair near the window. "Nothing. The apothecary says his body's healing faster than should be possible, but his mind..." He trailed off, unable to voice his deepest fear.
Geoffrey settled into the offered seat, his gaze never leaving Alph's face. "The reports from the southern district—they're calling him a hero, you know. The shot that killed that abomination, it's already becoming legend."
"Hero," Lukan repeated bitterly, his hands clenching into fists. "I sent him away, Geoffrey. When that thing burst from the mine, I grabbed him and sent him running toward the noble district while I went for the signal fire."
Geoffrey leaned forward, studying his friend's haggard expression. "You were trying to protect him."
"Was I?" Lukan's voice cracked. "Or was I just being a coward? I told myself I was keeping him safe, that he'd stay in the noble district where the guards could protect him. I thought—I hoped—he wouldn't come back." He buried his face in his hands. "I wanted him to be somewhere else when the real fighting started. Somewhere safe."
The admission hung heavy in the air between them. Lukan lifted his head, staring at Alph's peaceful face with eyes bright with unshed tears.
"But he did come back, didn't he? Came back and saved us all while I was still running around trying to light signal fires that never mattered." Lukan's voice dropped to a whisper. "What kind of mentor does that make me? What kind of friend?"
Geoffrey reached across the space between their chairs, gripping Lukan's shoulder firmly.
"The kind that taught him well enough to make that shot," Geoffrey said firmly, his grip tightening on Lukan's shoulder. "The kind that gave him the skills and confidence to face a monster twice his size without flinching."
Lukan looked up, searching Geoffrey's weathered face for any hint of false comfort, but found only sincere conviction.
"Listen to me. That boy—" He gestured toward Alph's still form. "He's been through things that would break lesser men. He left everything he knew to forge his own path." Geoffrey's voice grew stronger with each word. "You think a little unconsciousness is going to stop him now?"
Lukan felt something ease in his chest, a knot of tension he hadn't realized he'd been carrying.
"He'll wake up," Geoffrey continued, as much to himself as to Lukan, his eyes fixed on Alph's peaceful face. "He has to. There's too much fight left in him, too much unfinished business." His voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "He will wake up. He will."
The room fell silent except for the steady rhythm of Alph's breathing, carrying the weight of their shared hope.
Awareness returned in fragments—disconnected sensations that gradually coalesced into something resembling thought. Alph's consciousness stirred, grasping at the edges of memory like a drowning man reaching for driftwood.
The abomination. Golden flames consuming corrupted flesh. The crossbow's weight in his hands, his willpower pouring into that single bolt. The shot. Then... nothing.
His mind felt thick, sluggish, as though wading through deep water. Thoughts formed slowly, each one requiring deliberate effort to shape and hold.
Gradually, the fog began to lift. His awareness sharpened, and something felt different. Not painful, just... wrong. The quality of existence around him had changed.
Alph's consciousness opened to his surroundings.
The starless void stretched endlessly in all directions, its familiar cosmic darkness both comforting and disorienting. Points of light flickered in the infinite expanse—his constellation pulsing with steady radiance above, while other dormant profession nodes drifted in the distance like distant stars.
He was in the Mind Garden.
As his recollections clarified, the final moment before blackness materialized with abrupt vividness. That otherworldly sensation, the dissolution of perception—he'd felt something comparable during his Slayer progression. Yet this had been distinct. More savage. More elemental. The transformation had ripped through him with brutal, untamed power.
My Hunter node!
Alph's consciousness surged toward his constellation, scanning the surrounding void with desperate focus. The drifting Tier 1 Hunter node that had been slowly migrating toward his formation—it was gone. Vanished from the cosmic expanse as if it had never existed.
His awareness pressed closer to his constellation, examining each connected point of light with methodical precision.
There. The Tier 0 Scout node.
Something had changed. The node still pulsed with pale green light threaded with amber—the colors of forest paths and keen observation. But now a darker hue wove through those familiar tones, deepening the glow into something richer and more predatory. The amber had intensified to burnished gold while shadows crept through the green, transforming it into the color of a hunting cat's eyes watching from dense undergrowth.
The transformation was subtle but unmistakable. His Scout node had merged with the Hunter node.
The Shaper's voice resonated through the void, carrying unmistakable excitement. "Truly magnificent, isn't it? A star node merging with another so perfectly, as if they were the same from the beginning. Unprecedented!"
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Alph's consciousness reeled as understanding dawned on him. The violent sensation, the draining exhaustion—it all made sense now. But one question remained.
"Why did I faint?" His thought projected into the darkness.
"The merger itself demanded significant energy," The Shaper explained, its tone shifting to analytical. "The clash of essences as two nodes became one drained your willpower reserves completely. But that alone wouldn't have rendered you unconscious." The ancient voice took on a curious quality. "You expended an enormous amount of willpower in the physical realm as well. What caused you to overdraw so dramatically?"
Alph sighed, he recounted what he remembered before his consciousness had begun to fade.
"Foolish." The Shaper's voice carried both understanding and reproach. "You pushed yourself beyond your limits against a threat far above your power. Leave such battles to those equipped to handle them."
A bitter smile touched Alph's awareness. Silence stretched through the void as faces flashed through his memory—Sal's determined expression, the young soldiers' terror, the screams cut short.
He forced the images away, what is done is done. Steadying himself.
"Please show me my status screen."
Name: Alph
Tier: 1
Bloodline: Frostmoon
Constellation Status:
- Slayer (Tier 1)
- Hunter (Tier 1)
- Recruit (Tier 0)
- Thief (Tier 0)
- Apprentice Druid (Tier 0)
- Frost-Rune Scribe: Broken
Resources:
- Vitality: 4.60/4.60
- Stamina: 5.03/5.03 (0.80↑)
- Mana: 0/0 [Core Shattered]
- Willpower: 7.1/7.1 (1.0↑)
Active Status Effects: Unconscious
Skill List:
Slayer (Tier 1) - Grim Harvest (Novice), Marked for Death (Novice), Adamant Will (Novice)
Hunter (Tier 1) - Perfect Aim (Intermediate), Olfactory Tracking (Novice), Beast Empathy (Novice), Set Snare (Mastered), Wilderness Step (Mastered), Steady Aim (Mastered)
Rogue Path (Tier 0) - Deft Movement (Mastered), Reduced Presence (Mastered), Nimble Fingers (Mastered)
Druid Path (Tier 0) - Nature's Touch (Mastered), Thorn Volley (Mastered), Nature's Mend (Mastered)
Fighter Path (Tier 0) - Power Strike (Mastered), Defensive Stance (Mastered), Battle Shout (Mastered)
The interface materialized before him in crisp blue light, and Alph's awareness sharpened as he absorbed the changes. Hunter at Tier 1. Three new skills alongside the merged abilities from Scout. His willpower had jumped significantly, stamina following suit.
But one line caught his attention: Active Status Effects: Unconscious
"How long have I been unconscious?" Alph projected the question into the void, concern threading through his thought.
The Shaper replied with characteristic detachment. "Time operates differently in this mind space. What feels like moments here could be hours in your physical reality. Or mere seconds."
Alph's consciousness rippled with sudden worry. Had his shot struck true? Was the abomination dead, or had his collapse left the town defenseless? Were Hendricks and his men still fighting? The uncertainty gnawed at him.
"Do not worry yourself needlessly," The Shaper's voice carried a note of reassurance. "Your consciousness has awakened here, which means the connection to your physical form remains intact. You need only reach for that tether to return."
Relief flooded through Alph's awareness.
"Thank you! I need to go back. Now."
He didn't wait for a response. His consciousness turned inward, searching for the anchor that bound him to flesh and blood, reaching for the pull of the physical world.
The starless void began to fade.
In the real world…
Movement stirred in the cot. The sudden shift drew both men's attention instantly—Lukan's hand shooting out to grip the wooden frame while Geoffrey moved to Alph's other side with surprising speed for a trader.
Alph's eyelids fluttered apart gradually, squinting in the daylight that streamed through. Strange stonework overhead sharpened into view initially—smooth masonry instead of crude timber, far too polished for anywhere he recognized. Then the pair of silhouettes flanking him became distinct.
Lukan leaned closer, his voice cracking despite his attempt at steadiness. "How are you feeling, lad?"
Alph managed a firm nod, though the motion sent a dull ache through his skull. "I'm fine. No need to worry." He forced strength into his words, trying to reassure them both despite the lingering fog in his thoughts.
"How long was I unconscious? What happened after—did the shot—"
"Reckless!" Geoffrey interrupted him, though relief dulled the sharpness of his scolding. "Taking such a risk, collapsing for two days and making everyone worry themselves sick. If anything had happened to you, how would I face Torsten? Or Elara?"
A wry smile tugged at Alph's lips despite himself.
Geoffrey caught the expression and sighed, tension draining from his shoulders. "But you're alright. That's what matters." He turned toward the door. "I'll fetch the apothecary for another examination. Lukan can fill you in on everything."
Geoffrey's footsteps faded down the corridor. Lukan dragged his chair closer to the cot, the wooden legs scraping against stone as he settled in with visible relief.
"Your shot hit true," Lukan began, his voice steady now that the immediate crisis had passed. "Struck the monster square in the heart. The rampage ended the moment it fell."
Alph's chest loosened slightly. At least that much had worked.
"The town watch found you collapsed on the battlement. Old soldier up there—he's the one who notified them after you went down. They brought you straight back to the barracks for examination—"
"Did they find out what it was?" Alph interrupted, pushing himself up slightly against the pillows. "Who or what became that abomination?"
Lukan's expression turned uncertain, his hands spreading in a helpless gesture. "The garrison commander came back with holy warriors from the Church. They said something about it being the 'source of corruption,' that it was teleported here by magic. Which I don't fully understand." He shook his head.
"Lord Ashworth himself ordered you moved here when word reached him," Lukan continued, gesturing at the well-appointed room. "Once they realized you were the one who delivered the final blow, his grace wanted you under his personal care."
A smile crept across Lukan's face, that familiar teasing tone returning. "Now you're being lauded as the Hero of Stoneford. Can't walk ten paces without someone wanting to buy you a drink, I'd wager."
Alph's face crumpled, the statement striking him with brutal force. "The real heroes were Sergeant Sal and those who stood against that creature," he whispered, his words scarcely audible. "I'm no hero."
The lightness drained from Lukan's features. He sighed, leaning back in his chair as the weight of memory settled over them both.
"Yesterday they held a vigil," he said slowly. "For those who perished. Sergeant Sal and the ones who sacrificed themselves—they were promoted to martyrs of the army. Their families received silver compensation."
His voice grew heavier. "As for the Southern District... the Fourth Prince of the Duchy arrived with the holy warriors. He and Lord Ashworth both pledged funds toward reconstruction efforts. The damage was..." He trailed off, shaking his head.
Lukan reached out, gripping Alph's shoulder with firm reassurance. "Don't carry that weight alone, lad. Right now, you need to focus on recovery. The rest will sort itself out."
He squeezed once more before releasing his hold, settling back into his chair with the posture of someone prepared to keep watch as long as needed.