Chapter 1: Mortal

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The night had gone poorly. As the bandits descended upon Sirona, she thought about what a hassle it would be to regenerate IF she regenerated.

I will try to survive despite having nothing left on this earth.

Though her body was resilient, she was currently bleeding out. Sirona could heal quickly from most injuries. But at the moment, the woman was testing her limits. It didn't matter, though; she had nothing more to lose. Death was an old friend of Sirona's. She did not fear him.

For a split second, right before the predatory men tore her apart, she was blinded by a bright beam of light. It shot across the forest, and the monsters were gone, decimated, reduced to dust-a stark contrast to the rest of the bodies surrounding her-the ones she had dispatched.

Rapid, heavy footfalls approached her.

How careless to not notice another...

She knew she was utterly defenseless, crumpled on the dirt floor, her body rendered useless by the countless bullet wounds that littered her abdomen and lungs. She sensed that the end of her life was near. The woman took a final look at her surroundings; the church she had attended all of those decades ago, long reduced to ruins. The woods she would play in as a child. Sirona had lived a long time and had yet to age since she turned 25; she was permanently suspended like this and had been for well over a century.

Everyone the woman had once known and loved had either died of old age or had otherwise been slain. While she maintained a vigil over the town she grew up in, Sirona had kept her distance, not interfering unless there was a danger to the populace.

She supposed that the town was the last thing she had in her life that still mattered to her. No one would mourn her. That's alright, Sirona thought. What was she to expect from this lonely existence of hers?

Her eyes fluttered shut. Her chin raised indignantly in the face of death. At least, I want my end to be dignified...

Except the final blow never came.

"Are you alright?" a surprisingly calm voice called to her. The voice was unfamiliar... yet... it felt like she'd yearned for it her entire life.

The blood loss had taken its toll on her. She was veritably delirious. Her vision blurred. For anyone else but Sirona, this would be lethal.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she coughed violently. Blood spurted from her lips as she looked up at the stranger before her. He was beautiful; his hair was like starlight, silver and seemingly sparkling under the moon's luminescence. He was tall and lean with broad, capable shoulders. From the second she looked into his enrapturing eyes, she knew she wanted to know him. Truly know him in a way that no one else could. His gaze held hers momentarily before breaking the connection and kneeling to examine her injury.

She broke out of her reverie-Preposterous, pull yourself together.

The stranger sighed, looking forlorn as if he, too, was about to lose something. "There is nothing more that I can do for you besides grant you a quick death,"

The woman was too weak to attempt a tough facade. Her voice cracked, "Please, don't lose hope for me yet. I am not as frail as most."

Sirona's vision obscured further. She would be losing consciousness soon. It became increasingly hard to breathe.

His eyebrows knit together as he considered what she said. She had suffered from injuries in the past, but nothing this severe. The odds of survival seemed slim, but there was still a chance her body would miraculously reconstruct itself yet again. The blood loss had caused her to turn numb from the cold. She couldn't feel anything at all.

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⏰ Last updated: Sep 26 ⏰

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