Glass Heart Syndrome

Chapter 2

The first bandit moved like a striking serpent, his blade a glinting fang as it arced toward Eren. Reflex took over. Eren threw up a shield—a thin, flickering barrier of mana that crackled as it intercepted the blade. The impact sent a jolt up his arm, like grabbing a live wire, and he stumbled back.

The bandit sneered. "Not much of a mage, are ya?" He lunged again, more aggressively this time, pushing Eren back toward the cart's edge.

Eren's hand brushed against the canvas cover, and he steadied himself, feeling the heavy drag of his remaining mana reserves. He couldn't keep throwing shields. He needed something stronger—something decisive. His mind raced through the spells he knew, the ones drilled into him during training. A basic binding hex? No, too weak. Flame arc? Risky, but with this much forest...

He locked eyes with the bandit just as the man swung. Eren took a breath, his fingers twitching, and whispered the incantation under his breath. Heat blazed in his hand. He clenched his fist, a small flame igniting along his knuckles. The bandit's eyes widened, just a fraction, before Eren drove his fist forward, his fiery hand slamming into the man's shoulder.

The bandit screamed, stumbling back, batting at the flames that licked up his sleeve. It gave Eren just enough time to sidestep and put a few feet of space between them. But even as he did, he felt the familiar tug of mana draining from his body, leaving a faint chill in its place.

Behind him, the cart driver grunted, slashing at another bandit who had flanked them. "Not enough, mage! We're surrounded."

Eren's gaze darted between the menacing figures circling them, their eyes glinting with the feral anticipation of hunters who knew they'd cornered their prey. His options dwindled fast. His breaths came short and sharp as the knot of fear tightened in his stomach.

One of the bandits—a tall, wiry man with a scar slicing through his left eyebrow—moved forward, cracking his knuckles. "The way I see it," he drawled, "you're gonna run dry soon. Ain't that right, mage?"

Eren clenched his teeth. They were watching him, waiting for him to overextend, to drain his mana and leave himself defenseless. He'd seen it in practice, students running themselves into a corner during training, their spells faltering as they tried to keep up. But this was real. Here, exhaustion meant death.

"Think," he murmured, barely audible. His mind raced as he scanned his surroundings. Trees, dirt, the cart—nothing he could use for cover. His spells were simple, raw power with no intricacies. No place to hide, no way out. But he wasn't alone.

"Old man," Eren hissed, glancing at the driver. "Can you fight?"

The driver smirked, his blade glinting as he took up a defensive stance. "Enough to buy you a few seconds. But don't expect much."

Eren nodded, gripping his left wrist with his right hand, channeling what little mana he had left into his palm. He was done holding back. The hum of energy intensified, warming his fingers, and he felt the familiar pulse of heat. "When I say go, drop low and keep your head down," he whispered.

The driver's eyebrow arched, but he gave a faint nod. Another bandit lunged, swinging a short sword. Eren reacted, the spell surging from his hand—a low, humming bolt of energy that crackled and hissed as it cut through the air. The light burst forward, slamming into the attacker's chest and sending him sprawling.

"Now!" Eren yelled.

The driver ducked, dropping into a crouch just as Eren unleashed another burst, throwing his hands out wide. Twin bolts of mana erupted, striking two more bandits and sending them staggering back, surprise flashing across their faces. He could see the shock, the disbelief. A mage wasn't supposed to fight like this, not so recklessly. They were used to seeing mages wield spells from a distance, far removed from the mess and blood of close combat.

But Eren felt the cost immediately. The dizziness hit him like a wave, his vision blurring. He gasped, his legs weakening, as his mana reserves hit rock bottom. He stumbled, nearly falling as the cold seeped into his bones, his limbs feeling leaden.

The last bandit, the scarred one, took one look at Eren, now swaying on his feet, and grinned. "Out of tricks, are ya?"

Eren struggled to raise his arms, the cold sapping the strength from his muscles. The driver was still crouched, his blade raised defensively, but Eren knew it wouldn't be enough. The bandit moved in, his steps slow, savoring the victory.

And then, a strange calm settled over Eren. His breath steadied, his mind sharpening, as if an invisible line had been crossed. His hand slipped to his belt, finding the small, rough dagger strapped there. It wasn't much, a last-resort weapon he'd barely practiced with. But it was sharp.

As the bandit lunged, Eren let instinct take over. He sidestepped, his grip tight on the dagger, and drove it forward with every last ounce of strength he had. It found its mark, sliding between the bandit's ribs. The man's eyes widened, shock overtaking his face as he stumbled back, blood blossoming across his shirt.

The driver staggered to his feet, breathing heavily. "You... actually did it." His tone was laced with something between surprise and respect.

Eren stared at his hand, slick with the bandit's blood. The dagger felt heavier than before, the weight of what he'd just done settling in his chest like a stone. He looked down at the body, the man's eyes staring sightlessly at the sky. For a moment, the forest was silent, save for the faint rustle of leaves.

He forced himself to look away, shoving the dagger back into its sheath. His hands still shook, his mind reeling. He'd been raised to believe in the value of life, in second chances, but in Ezura, survival had stripped that choice from him.

"Welcome to Ezura," the driver muttered, wiping his own blade on his cloak. "Hope you're ready for the rest of it."

Eren didn't respond. Instead, he felt a new resolve harden within him, one he didn't recognize but couldn't deny.