The next morning, I woke up feeling physically rested but mentally drained. Edith's cryptic words still echoed in my mind, her presence lingering like a shadow I couldn't shake. I lay there for a while, staring blankly at the ceiling, trying to make sense of everything that had happened.
"Are you there?" I asked aloud, the question slipping out before I could stop myself.
"Always," her soft voice responded almost instantly, like she had been waiting for me to acknowledge her presence.
I sighed and sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. The digital clock on my nightstand read 6:45 AM. I still had some time before school, but my mind was far from focusing on the mundane.
"Rowan," Edith said, her tone softer now, almost hesitant. "What were your abilities in your past life?"
The question made me pause. Past life the phrase felt heavy, like a door creaking open to memories I'd tried to bury. In the clan of shape-shifters, we were more than just our ability to change forms. Each of us carried unique talents, legacies from lifetimes lost to history. For me, it was the ability to glimpse the threads of fate. It was both a gift and a curse that had marked me as the clan's seer.
"I was a seer," I replied, my voice barely more than a whisper. "But I was also trained in swordsmanship. My father... he made sure of that."
There was a brief, contemplative silence from Edith, as if she was absorbing the weight of my words. "That explains a lot," she finally said, her tone more thoughtful. "You weren't just reacting out there... you were remembering. But let's not dwell on the past. We have a lot to cover."
She shifted gears quickly, as if sensing I wasn't ready to delve deeper into my history. A glowing screen materialized before me, displaying a selection of weapons, each crafted with intricate detail. My eyes roved over the choices: a sleek magic wand, an enchanted bow, and an ancient-looking sword that seemed to call to me.
"You can choose one item," Edith announced. "Consider it a freebie."
I frowned, feeling the weight of the decision. "Which one should I pick?" I asked, uncertainty gnawing at me.
Without hesitation, Edith answered, "The sword."
"Why not the wand?" I countered, my gaze lingering on its gleaming surface. "Wouldn't magic be more versatile?"
She chuckled softly, a sound that was both comforting and unnerving. "The sword I'm recommending is not just any sword. It's called the Breathing Sword. It's unique because it blends magic with swordsmanship. With your training, it's the perfect match. Trust me."
The Breathing Sword shimmered on the screen, its metal seeming to pulse with a life of its own. I hesitated for only a moment before tapping on it. Instantly, the weapon materialized in my hand. It was heavier than I expected, but there was a subtle hum of energy beneath my fingers, like the sword was... alive.
"Remember," Edith said, her voice now laced with a hint of urgency, "you can purchase more items later from the store with your earnings. But for now, let's see what you can do with that sword."
Before I could respond, the world around me warped. The familiar walls of my room twisted, bending like molten metal, and suddenly, I was somewhere else entirely. I hit the ground hard, the impact jolting through my knees and scraping my palms against rough earth. The comforting warmth of my bed was replaced by a cold, damp battlefield that reeked of blood and wet soil.
I scrambled to my feet, heart pounding. Five swordsmen stood in front of me, their faces emotionless, their weapons gleaming under a faint, otherworldly light. They were waiting, their silence heavy and unnerving.
Panic gripped me like a vice, but I tightened my hold on the Breathing Sword, feeling its faint pulse beneath my fingers. Focus, I told myself. This was real. This was happening.
The first swordsman lunged toward me, his sword aimed at my throat. I barely had time to react, raising my blade in a clumsy block. The impact sent a shockwave through my arms, nearly knocking the sword from my grip. He was stronger than I had anticipated far stronger.
I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to push back. I deflected his strike and swung for his torso, but he parried effortlessly, his blade meeting mine with a resounding clang. The vibration nearly numbed my fingers, and I stumbled back, the sword feeling impossibly heavy.
He came at me again, this time faster. I sidestepped at the last moment, driving my knee into his side. He grunted, doubling over, and without hesitation, I drove my sword into his chest. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second before his body disintegrated into a cloud of ash, disappearing like mist.
A notification popped up:
MC? I didn't have time to figure it out. A sharp, searing pain exploded in my shoulder. I gasped, dropping to one knee, and glanced down to see the gleaming tip of a sword embedded in my flesh. The pain was blinding, like fire coursing through my veins.
Another notification flashed before me:
Running on instinct, I tapped the screen. A translucent shield materialized around me just as another strike came down. The sword clanged against the barrier, sending a shockwave through my body. I collapsed, gasping for air, the pain in my shoulder a dull, throbbing ache.
More notifications appeared:
I didn't hesitate. I tapped the Heal button, and warmth spread through my body as the pain ebbed away, leaving only a faint soreness. But my relief was short-lived as another warning flashed:
One minute. That wasn't nearly enough time. The remaining swordsmen circled me like vultures, their eyes gleaming with cold anticipation. I gripped the hilt of the Breathing Sword tighter, my mind racing.
As the shield flickered and shattered, I lashed out, my sword slicing through the leg of the closest swordsman. He collapsed into a heap of ash, but the others were relentless. They charged in unison, their swords a blur of steel.
I blocked one strike, but the next hit me square in the ribs, knocking the breath from my lungs. I dropped to my knees, my vision blurring as another blade pierced my back, the cold metal slicing through my flesh.
A scream tore from my throat, and blood spilled from my lips, staining the ground beneath me. The world dimmed, my vision narrowing to a pinprick. This was it. I was dying.
Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the battlefield dissolved. I was back in my room, gasping for breath. I touched my chest, my fingers trembling. No blood, no pain just the faint echo of agony.
I collapsed onto my bed, a shaky laugh escaping my lips. I was alive. Somehow, I had survived. But I couldn't shake the lingering dread that this was only the beginning.