Zensuon: Crystal Age

Not the Second Chance I was Looking For

Where we learn a person (or halfling) should be careful what they wish for, or rather, what their final wish is for.

Mica woke up with a gasp.

He started checking all of himself was there, and looked around. He felt something weird under his fingertips, it was crusty. He squinted, it was morning. He looked at his palm and saw tiny red-black flakes on it. He glanced down at his torn once-bright-blue clothing, and saw a spot painted in a darker shade of red, more crusty pieces, like the ones you get when you get cu-

He paused. Putting a hand to his forehead. His head was throbbing.

"Morning sunshine." A mocking voice from Mica's side called out.

The panicked halfling looked up in a hurry to gaze at the source of the voice like a cornered rabbit finally hearing their pursuer.

The mage laughed, eating what looked to be a cooked rabbit on a pile of stones. However the 'cooking' seemed more like the animal was burned horribly than properly made.

This is the human mage from before, or spellcaster, or however he's called. He never did give out his name, right? Mica tried to get his body in order first.

Mica grunted and straightened up. He felt better, he felt... not dead. His body still ached from a few points, but somehow he felt lighter, more energetic.

He looked down at himself again, this time with a clearer mind. His ripped fashionable garments were now completely wasted after his adventure with Nura- The orc. He seemed to be one step away from just waltzing around naked. At the moment his pants were nearly non-existent. They were axe-ripped alongside his belt that was previously keeping them on.

"Want something to eat?" The spellcaster presented a piece of burnt rabbit, just as Mica decided to flee like one.

One hand on his nearly-pants, and the other holding his mostly ripped shirt. Mica sprinted like mad in the opposite direction of the man. All he saw was woodland. Trees, branches, bushes. It didn't matter. He'll just keep running, find a hole an-NnnrrrAhhhh... Ahh... ahhh...

Mica swiftly took the hand from the shirt to his neck. He fell on his knee. Followed by him tumbling down face-first into the dirt. Getting wet by morning dew and snapping the crumpled, brown leaves on his way down.

He was breathing heavily. His vision grew blurry. All that strength, all that energy he felt just a moment ago was slipping away from him, almost like something emptied him in an instant. The throb of a headache filled his head, the kind of headache that makes one wish to drive a dagger under their forehead to make the pain subside. He couldn't move even an inch. His legs shifted to no effect. All he ended up doing was digging his knees deeper into the dirt.

After what felt like forever in his head, he heard footsteps, crunching the leaves underfoot.

"Tsk Tsk Tsk..." The voice of that mage rang from above the laying halfling.

"Here I thought you'd not soon forget our deal." The sound of paper unfurling and flapping spun out as the contract was brought before Mica's face, and then proceeded to awkwardly flatten against it.

Mica felt the same helplessness from the night before. Wait, the energy that filled me wasn't mine, it was his. The moment I stopped fulfilling that contract, I'd go back to that moment- that moment when I died. I'd go back to being dead.

He wanted to say it: Damn necromancer. How dare you. Who do you think you are?!

But the words wouldn't escape Mica's mouth, his face couldn't even twitch in anger at the necromancer.