Jarek Thorn had a talent for making terrible decisions.
Agreeing to follow Lena Evercrest, infamous rogue knight and all-around terrifying woman, was probably one of them.
"So," he said, leaning against a crate in Lena's dimly lit hideout. "What's the plan?"
Lena raised an eyebrow. "Plan?"
"Yeah, you know. The 'how-do-we-keep-me-from-being-brutally-executed' plan."
Lena gave him a long, unimpressed look. "You're assuming I care whether you live or die."
Jarek frowned. "I mean… you did just save me."
"That was impulse. Might've been a mistake."
Jarek huffed. "Wow. Love the confidence boost."
Lena smirked. "You don't look like much of a fighter. What exactly do you bring to the table?"
Jarek considered:
• He was fast. But not faster than a sword.
• He was good at talking. But not good enough to talk his way out of a beheading.
• He was surprisingly durable, considering how often he got punched in the face.
"…I have an excellent sense of humor?"
Lena sighed.
Jarek scratched his head. "Okay, fine. But I have the Heart of Ruin! That's gotta count for something." He waved the still-glowing artifact, which pulsed faintly in his palm. "Surely this thing has, I don't know… magical powers?"
Lena narrowed her eyes. "You bonded with it, didn't you?"
"Uh… it bonded with me, actually."
"That's worse."
Jarek frowned. "Why?"
Lena studied him for a long moment. Then she turned, rummaged through a nearby chest, and tossed him a dagger.
"Stab yourself," she said.
Jarek blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
Jarek looked at the blade. Then at Lena. "You know, usually when people want me dead, they at least pretend to be subtle about it."
"Just do it."
Jarek hesitated. But… well, he had nearly died five times today. What was one more risk?
With a sigh, he braced himself and jammed the dagger into his palm—
—or at least, he tried to.
The instant the blade touched his skin, a pulse of dark energy erupted from the Heart of Ruin, shattering the dagger into dust.
Jarek yelped and flinched back. "WHAT THE—?!"
Lena nodded. "Thought so."
Jarek gaped at his unscathed hand. "What just happened?"
Lena crossed her arms. "The Heart of Ruin doesn't just choose any host. It chooses a vessel. Which means…" She gave him a look. "You're basically immortal."
Jarek's brain short-circuited. "I'm sorry, WHAT?"
"Can't be stabbed, burned, poisoned, or cursed," Lena continued
Lena smirked as she watched Jarek struggle to process this revelation.
"Can't be stabbed, burned, poisoned, or cursed," she continued. "At least, not in any way that would actually kill you."
Jarek stared at his hand. "So… you're saying I'm invincible?"
Lena shrugged. "Not quite. The Heart makes sure you don't die easily. But if you take enough damage—say, get torn apart by a dragon, or drown, or get really creative with explosives—you'd probably still kick the bucket."
Jarek frowned. "That doesn't sound very immortal."
"More like highly resistant to death."
"…That just sounds like prolonged suffering."
Lena smirked. "Exactly."
Jarek groaned. "Great. So I can survive ridiculous injuries, but I still feel them?"
"Yep."
"That sounds awful."
Lena shrugged. "Welcome to the world of cursed artifacts."
Jarek sighed and flopped onto a nearby wooden crate. "So what now? Do I just… run forever? Hope no one creative decides to test my pain threshold?"
Lena tilted her head, studying him. "You could. But that would be stupid."
Jarek raised an eyebrow. "Stupider than stealing an ancient artifact?"
"Yes."
Jarek frowned. "What do you suggest, then?"
Lena leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. "Right now, the Celestial Empire thinks you're a rogue thief. They don't know what you are yet. But once they find out the Heart of Ruin actually chose you? They'll stop trying to kill you."
Jarek blinked. "That… actually sounds good?"
Lena's smirk was sharp. "No. Because if they can't kill you, they'll try to own you."
Jarek groaned. "Fantastic. So I'm either dead or enslaved. Love the options."
"Which is why," Lena continued, "you need to learn how to actually fight. Because sooner or later, someone's going to test that fancy immortality of yours. And if you can't do more than run your mouth? You'll wish they'd just killed you."
Jarek frowned. "And you're offering to teach me?"
Lena shrugged. "I've trained worse."
"Gee, thanks."
"Don't thank me yet," Lena said, cracking her knuckles. "Training starts now."
Jarek had a very bad feeling about this.