The green, crackling flame gave off a fair amount of warmth, but she barely felt it. She absently tossed another fragment of the wood onto the blaze, even as part of her screamed about the waste. Their bodies, it turned out, were full of the same numbing agent it attacked her with, which could be used to make poisons. Overall, a very potent alchemical ingredient, and perhaps even a medical one, if used correctly. They also burned well.

She had returned to the forest almost immediately after dropping off the wood. She knew Anthony would have tried something to make things better if she hadn’t, and the thought of dealing with that right then had bothered her beyond belief. She would be the one to fix things. It was her fucking fault they were broken. Part of her hated him for not understanding. Part of her hated herself for needing the understanding. She had to escape for a while, and she figured she owed the fucking ‘Treants’ a visit. Turns out, they aren’t hot shit when they get ambushed. They may be deadly to anyone who doesn’t know they’re there, or if their target was hurt or unconscious, but once you knew what they looked like, they were easy to spot. Even easier to kill. She’d killed about ten of the things, and, while she wanted to kill ten more, Anthony’s warning about her… ‘condition’... kept her at bay. She needed to get rid of a lot of Power, not gain it. Another thing she owed him for. Aggravating.

She sighed loudly. She hated feeling this way. The dude had helped when no one else would. No matter what he spouted about the good of everyone, not many people actually cared about that. And she didn’t really think that was a ‘wanting to be a hero’ thing. He did it because he could afford to. She would probably have thought twice about staying to help if she ran across two incapacitated people with no clear attacker around them. Maybe more than twice, honestly. It would be way more smart to run away.

But Anthony could heal himself from pretty much anything, or so she believed. The dude could probably keep himself alive if he was stabbed through the heart while she’d certainly die. Anyone else would die. He was a healer, so of course he helped people. It was so unreasonable to be mad at him for that, but she was. He made her feel like she was following him instead of living her own way. She wasn’t sure if she was ok with that.

Part of her wanted to run off into the forest until she figured out the answer, but she squashed the thought. That kind of thinking had gotten her nearly killed by Shades. Or, worse, not killed by shades, and corrupted instead. Flashes of Shaye’s face flashed through her mind. No, not the forest. Too much potential for ambush. But she could run around in the grasslands if she wanted. That should be safe. She had her curiosity piqued the first time she ran past the fork in the river and its strange abundance of water vapor. It was almost like a cloud resting on the ground. She found the idea of sitting in there and relaxing for a bit to be very peaceful. Maybe it would help her feel better. She started running.

---

The bane of every swordsman, especially the unarmored ones: projectiles. Of course, greatsword users have to use two hands to swing effectively, so a shield isn’t an option. Something hits me in the back, sending ripples of pain up my spine.

“FUCK.”

“You squander breath cursing when you should be dodging. Where is your awareness? You dance like a blind fool, looking everywhere but where the threat resides. Quickly! Assess, then act!”

Troublesome giant. He doesn’t seem to realize that, without Kaythe, I can only see so many spots. In fact, he is extremely aware of exactly where I can’t see at any given moment, and takes full advantage of it by launching these blunted stone arrows at me from my blind spots.

“You will be fighting an army, yes? How will you defend against many foes without perceiving them? Your enemy will know where you cannot see, and they will attack where they believe you are weak.”

“I AM weak there, damnit! This is why I’ll have a group. People to watch my back. Kaythe will help cover me.”

The giant sighs in frustration. “You cannot rely on others to keep you safe. No matter how talented your fellow combatants may be, relying on them to protect you endangers you the moment problems arise. Problems always arise.”

“That’s why we’re training. We need to get to the point where our formation won’t break no matter how many assault it.”

“Your enemy can and will find a way to break through. When they do, you will die, unless every member of your team can survive being surrounded, with no support, for a period of time.”

*Ting* I just manage to whirl in time to deflect on of the bolts.

“Good. How did you defend that?”

“Luck. I turned and already started blocking before I saw the bolt.”

*Thunk* “AHH FUCK. WHY.”

“The enemy will not stop to let you think, but that does not mean you should stop doing so. How did you block the bolt?”

What does he want from me? I knew he was consistently picking somewhere in my blind spot, and I took my best guess at the general direction. My Perception and Dexterity allowed me to make minor adjustments, but only barely.

“I can’t rely on my enemies always striking where I’m weak. I have only one sword, and can move only so fast. I knew you were going to aim where I couldn’t see, so I made a good guess, but a guess nonetheless. If I had five monsters around me? I wouldn’t be able to move fast enough. The press of bodies would be too great.”

Zathis smiles broadly. “Yes! Now you begin to understand. You must not stay still. A rock in a still pond is completely surrounded by water, but a rock in a rushing river has a void in its tail. Even where there is no current, you must make your own.”

Like how cavalry worked back home… they couldn’t stop moving or they would be destroyed. In the chaos of warfare, they were able to upset most formations because by the time anyone noticed they were there, the cavalry had already moved on. The press of bodies limits mobility both ways…

I set my grip and start moving, changing direction erratically as I glide along the open space. I continue trying to twist around to see all sides at once, but realize quickly (after a few more hits) that I can replace looking at blind spots with moving to avoid them. Several times, bolts would fly from exactly where I wasn’t looking at the exact moment I changed directions to avoid them. Bolts that came from the front or sides, I avoid by using the flat of my sword to guide their trajectory away.

The sound of stone contacting flesh makes way for the steady hum of dwarven metal and shattering stone. I juggle my stamina, activating Fortify when I need a break, and the game goes on for many minutes. Sweat drenches my clothes as each whirl, deflection, and rapid movement change taxes my body more and more. My pace quickens as Zathis increases the number of projectiles. No conscious thought remains, just muscle memory and absolute focus on making each movement as perfect as it can be. Each wrong step earns me a new bruise. Each turn too slow, a lesson. We play a game of endurance, but I cannot treat it like one. I must keep up with Zathis, or suffer. I’m dimly aware of my Stamina blinking red, but I won’t stop. I cannot. To stop is to die.

I barely notice when my legs give out, and the sensation of what I’ve been doing to myself returns all at once. My lungs scream with fury and each breath is fire, my muscles are locked and cramping, and my vision is hazy and dark. I think the giant is talking to me, but I can’t hear him. A notification rests in my tired vision:

[Congratulations! Your actions have caused the creation of an Uncommon Secondary Skill! The skill ‘Swordsman of the Great River: River’s Flow’. Cost: 75. Learn? (Y/N)]

Finally.