When Wendy arrived on the woody planet that she was sent to hunt prey she had to pause as the overwhelming scent hit her nostrils. The world that she found herself on had a rich bloody smell like an extremely rare steak that quickly had her mouth watering. She could immediately tell that this was a world that was rich in prey; a world that would supply Coldreach for at least a few weeks if her nose wasn’t leading her astray and it did nothing of the sort.

Pale blue bioluminescent deer with four eyes and a fair yellow crested serpent disguising itself as a small tree among hundreds of trees; both of these were killed after a short scuffle and she sampled choice portions of the meat finding them delicious before she moved on to greater prey. Choir had warned her that she could only bring back a ton of organic matter and the two creatures still amounted to only about half the total amount. Still the sources of prey were ample and soon enough she found herself engaged with a third food source, this one much bigger than the last.

A red-furred bear with six legs and a pale armouring of bone over its body roared at her through a double pair of protruding jaws that slavered a crimson liquid and without delay the fight was on. She didn’t remember much of that fight, as she didn’t a lot of her fights. Upon revision it was a hail of claw and teeth and fist that ended when the bear’s skull cracked leaving the meat filled corpse in front of her, her plunder and proof that her hunt was successful. However she wouldn’t forget what happened next.

“What a sloppy battle,” the words cut through her victory haze and she leapt back crouching low to see the unconcerned visage of…a human. He stood their unconcerned regarding Wendy and for the first time in her life she felt her instincts give no information, no weaknesses, no dangers, nothing at all. He held a sword easily in his right hand; the worn metal blade containing dozens if not hundreds of small nicks.

“Who are you,” Wendy said guardedly trying not to provoke this possible enemy. The swordsman tilted his head slightly and suddenly his whole demeanour sharpened to a point as his eyes stabbed into her and all at once her danger senses were reacting like slamming on an alarm.

“You give off the aura of Coldreach,” the man said and any notions of his humanity were gone. “But were you a guard or a prisoner?” He furthered the questioning revealing two rows of perfectly white teeth that contrasted with his bright blue gums and equally azure tongue. “I suppose it doesn’t matter,” he continued after a few second’s regard and all at once the sensation faded leaving Wendy gasping again.

His words said with such finality triggered resolve inside her and she leapt forward before collapsing as wave of pain hit her in that moment sending her to her knees. She attempted to right herself only for each twitch of her muscles to bring further pain. Gritting her teeth she raised her head only to see the man__no the Maatiin standing there looking down at her with condescension.

“Oh how unlucky,” he said flatly. “You’ve caught vampirism, and at such a bad time. If you were just a little closer you would have caught me,” he continued as sarcasm crept into his tone. He raised his sword slightly before he lowered it as if reconsidering; and Wendy let out a small breath of relief before a massive amount of pain exploded in her back leaving her gasping before her instinctive movement triggered another feeling of agony.

“What?” Wendy questioned feeling the pain. “When did you..?”

“Since you’re almost dead I thought I would be generous and only slash you lightly,” the Maatiin said. “Frustrating,” this time she saw that his hand blurred for an instant before he turned away. “If you are from Coldreach then we might meet again,” the swordsman said. “Hopefully your allies will be more satisfying to cut then you were.” He disappeared then; like stepping between frames in her vision he was there one moment and gone the next leaving her with nothing but a spreading pain in her back.

“I…” won’t let you do that. I will stop you. You will have to beat me first. All of those words she had wanted to say but her malfunctioning instincts told her that if she mouthed off he would really kill her. A slight creaking noise caused her to turn her head and her eyes widened as she saw hundreds if not thousands of trees start to tilt before they all came crashing down the dense forest becoming a clearing in seconds. The singular act of destruction more than she could complete in a day.

Words failed her as she stared at the casually wrought devastation before she coughed triggering a fresh ripple of pain even worse than the first. “Ch_” she started feeling the raw ache of her throat as she tried to force the words before she changed her mind. She stood up carefully, each movement like swimming through needles and staggered over to her pile of meat dragging it to the bear corpse before she forced the angel’s name through her lips.

She held on just long enough to see the angel looming over her before she lost her mind to the pain.

xxx

She dreamed of an endless ocean of red floating beneath the almost total blackness of space broken by only a few dim stars. Beneath her countless creatures struggled against the dark crimson, almost black water while fewer creatures swam through the water with abandon and even fewer stood atop the waves as if hydrodynamics was a mere suggestion to them. She was one of the strugglers and while every movement brought her pain her instincts warned her against succumbing to the blood.

A thin ray of light was her salvation when it fell upon her and she felt the ocean physically recoil away from her, but at the same time she felt as if her own blood wanted to leave as well. She welcomed the pain; it was traitorous blood to side with the enemy after all. She bit deeply into her flesh spitting out the disloyal ichor.

More and more blood left her body as the light burnt greater and greater and she realised her mistake. No ray of light fell down to her but instead the light surged out through her, she was portal through which light could invade this bloody realm and the sea didn’t like that. With a snarl of hatred that chilled her bones she was spat out, nearly bloodless into the light.

The first sensation that returned to her was taste and the first flavour on her palate was that disgusting Nutri-gel that the Necromancer seemed to have an everlasting supply of. The substance was drab and grainy and tasteless and still infinitely preferable to the sensation of being torn apart and drowned in blood. The second sensation was smell and more specifically the smell of meat roasting that got her slavering and sent her stomach rumbling painfully.

Lifting herself from the ground she found herself lying on a bone bed underneath a starry sky so different from that of the blood sea. She swung her legs over the bed brushing the sandy ground with her toes before she felt a constant numbing tiredness flow through her body. Nothing remained in her energy reserves and while the pain was gone there was no energy in its place to do even the simplest things. Her head hung low and it was only the flickering of shadows on the ground and the smell of smoke that signalled the presence of a fire close to her.

“You’re finally awake,” said the Necromancer from a position somewhere in front of her. He sounded like he probably sitting by the fire and she could practically see the image of him holding meat up to be roasted in her mind’s eye. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” she said after barely a thought. There was honestly a suspicious lack of pain. Even the ordinary sensations of the sand beneath her toes and the caress of the wind were muted. “Do you have me on painkillers?” she asked. She had never had painkillers before but she had experienced pain and the suspicious lack made her a bit wary.

“It was my last batch,” the Necromancer elucidated before he came closer to Wendy and she mustered all her strength to raise her head to match his eyes. “Even after the infection had subsided you were quite out of your mind and you attacked me for the second time. I was forced to put you under once again.” He offered her a large bowl shaped shell filled with some form of soup. “Eat up,” he commanded. “Regain your strength.”

Right then she couldn’t have possibly disobeyed and with strength she didn’t know she had she grabbed the shell and wolfed down the food drinking the liquid and scarfing down the meaty chunks inside until it was all gone. A second bowl replaced the first and it was just as soon eaten. The fatty, gristly, poorly cooked and unseasoned food was by far the best thing she had eaten in recent memory.

“There’s more stew in the pot,” the Necromancer said and Wendy didn’t hesitate before she dived towards the pot, a poorly crafted gourd like fruit cut open and filled with a mixture of the same broth. She made it about halfway to the gourd when a sharp spike of pain rippled through her back and she stumbled before her hunger drove her forward to fall kneeling down at the side of the gourd. The food was almost boiling but the fat and muscle was sweet nectar to her palate. The more she ate however the more her sensation returned and with it the pain in her back. The wound that the man had inflicted on her; it still hadn’t healed.

It was only after draining the bowl that she managed to lean back and try to trace the wound on her back feeling multiple intricate lines of scar tissue running over her back that burned as she put the lightest pressure on them.

“If that was a tattoo I would have said the artist did a good job,” the Necromancer said from his position behind her. “I especially like the shading.”

“Why hasn’t it healed?” Wendy asked. Generally even missing limbs were replaced eventually and simple cuts weren’t something that she even registered.

“Because your opponent did the anatomical equivalent of salting the Earth,” the Necromancer replied without any preamble. “Using simple energy manipulation they inflicted a wound that will not heal upon your body. Honestly your absurd healing factor has tempted me to do the same sometimes.”

“It can be fixed right?” Wendy asked. While she didn’t like him she still had to admit the expertise of the doctor.

“Not without the assistance of somebody as powerful working on it,” the surgeon admitted hopelessly. “Which I am; I was just waiting for you to get some nutrients in your body before I did.”

“You’re in a jovial mood,” Wendy said feeling a weight off his chest at the thought she could be healed.

“I’ve got to see something interesting today,” the Necromancer replied as he knelt down placing his hand on her back. “Now grit your teeth.”

“Whhhhhyyyyyy___” Wendy started before the word trailed off as a tremendous pain assaulted her once more. It felt like her back was burning away or somebody was scraping off necrosis from her body. The pain reached a crescendo and for a moment it felt like two great energies were fighting before the old devoured the new and then withdrew leaving her ravaged back that was already starting to heal.

“You are very lucky that whoever did that let you go,” the Necromancer replied. “Can you tell me what force of nature you happened to run afoul of?”

Wendy described every single aspect of the short confrontation that she remembered and the Necromancer nodded at each detail. While she paraphrased one or two of the points she got the gist across and by the end of it the Necromancer looked enlightened.

“I might know that guy,” he said snapping his fingers before he turned back to Wendy. “Jeez, you’re lucky to be alive. I need to talk to Choir when I get back.”

“Feel like sharing?” Wendy asked feeling a bit put out that he obviously didn’t feel it important enough to give her the details on the person who tried to kill her.

“Feel like telling me what you left out of the story,” the surgeon of Coldreach replied and Wendy felt a cold vice grip her heart. “I could see you trying to paraphrase certain parts and I’m betting it was to remove anything incriminating.”

“Any proof of this,” Wendy asked keeping her voice very level.

“I don’t care enough to gather any,” the Necromancer said stepping away. “If you want my advice…” he started before he stopped himself. “Nah never mind. Just know that despite his looks our boss isn’t stupid. Just because he’s hasn’t interrogated you yet doesn’t mean that will always be the case.”

The two of them fell into the awkward silence between two people who didn’t really feel any companionship. The fire crept low as Wendy sat in her own thoughts before she snapped out of it as a more important question suddenly leapt to the front of her mind.

“Wait, where is Boss?” she said. “Don’t tell me you left him alone.”

“I left him in the middle of a bone fortress,” the Necromancer replied. “There’s no way that anything is breaking through there.”

“But you still left him alone without any protection,” Wendy replied. “I should go.”

“Do you think you can get inside?” the Necromancer replied almost scoffing. “I would have hoped your little encounter would have shown you the mediocrity of your strength. While you can easily bully weaklings when it comes to true powerhouses you can only fold and cower.”

“Well we weren’t all born with superpowers,” Wendy said bitterly.

“Yes you weren’t,” the Necromancer replied back just as coldly as ever. “So stop acting like it. Before you can even dream of being a bodyguard you need to be able to take care of yourself first.” Wendy opened her mouth to bite back before she paused as if suddenly seeing his angle.

“You’re offering me power,” Wendy said after a while. “That’s what this whole speech was leading up to.”

“I can only offer you an opportunity to gain power,” Surge refuted in one breath. “Paths are to be walked upon as my mom always used to say; not carried. In fact I lack the ability currently to even set you up on a Path. I only ever learned how transplant a Magic Core. The other two are beyond me.”

“But you have a solution,” Wendy stated with some certainty. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have said anything.”

“I have a singularly unique solution tailored only for you,” Surge stated before he pulled out a shell bowl from his pockets but this time there was no soup.

“Blood?” Wendy asked looking at the familiar deep red liquid. She almost felt a sense of nausea seeing it so soon after her agonizing experience but she forced the nausea down. “What do I have to do with the blood?”

“All you have to do is drink,” Surge replied. “And keep drinking.” He gave a smile that looked like it was originally intended to be reassuring. “And don’t worry about exploding; I can easily sew you back together.”