Second Skin: Wayward: A litRPG Adventure (Second Skin Book 7)

by M Damon Baker

  “I’m sorry, Scar,” I sighed an apology. “I’ve only just discovered the ability to hear your words.”

  “What?” Kyrah chose the most inopportune moment to wake up.

  My first impulse was to find some creative lie to tell her, but I instantly discarded that foolish notion. Holding back the truth had destroyed our friendship, and even though it was too late to salvage our relationship, I wasn’t going to deceive her again.

  “I—Well, a lot happened this morning.” I smiled awkwardly at her while I tried to find the right words. “Why don’t you let me tell you over breakfast?”

  As we ate, I did my best to explain everything to her. Although I wasn’t going to lie to Kyrah anymore, I also wasn’t a complete idiot. I held back some of the details, especially the particulars of my new Abilities, and I sure as hell didn’t tell her about the titles I’d discovered. Explaining my relationship with Scar placed me in a bit of a conundrum, however, one he was more than willing to help me find my way out of.

  ‘Tell her I’m your familiar,’ he offered, seeing me hesitate. ‘It’s at least mostly true, just like everything else you’ve told her.’

  I might have been offended by his implication, but I couldn’t deny the truth of it either. Actually, I enjoyed his snarky attitude quite a lot, and the sly look that accompanied his suggestion only added to my satisfaction. Recalling the stories of Bane’s early days with the Goddess, I also appreciated the fact that he was able to communicate with me so clearly. It seemed the time it took for me to understand him allowed us to skip over that difficult period—a rather lucky break for me.

  “Scar is my animal companion,” I shared a conspiratorial grin with him as I spoke. “Although he’s been able to speak to me for some time, I’ve only just become able to hear him.”

  “Say something!” Kyrah turned towards Scar in utter amazement.

  “It doesn’t work like that.” I smiled, unable to hide my amusement. “His words come directly into my mind, and in time, I’ll be able to speak to him in the same way.”

  Kyrah shook her head in denial. “That’s not possible. Only the ancient Sintári ever possessed that ability.”

  How the fuck?

  We’d had many conversations during our time together, and from what I understood, the Nér-vrogan had done their best to completely erase the knowledge of any beings that rivaled their power. Although the Gods were still known, with the restrictions they’d placed on themselves, it seemed the Nér-vrogan didn’t care about them quite so much. The legends of other powerful beings were virtually unknown, however, and I found Kyrah’s immediate connection to the Sintári both baffling and disturbing. Scar seemed to share in my apprehension. Even though he remained silent, the fur on the back of his neck stood on end as he shifted his gaze towards her.

  “You told me the Nér-vrogan erased all the old legends,” the sheer menace of my ice-cold words surprised even me, “How do you know about the Sintári?”

  Kyrah’s eyes flew open as she recognized her mistake, and before she could flee, I lunged forward and bore her to the ground. Pinned against the rocky soil and with my full weight pressing against her back, I drew one of my daggers and pressed it into Kyrah’s neck.

  “You better start talking before I take back every drop of blood I let you suck out of me.” The sharp edge of my blade bit into her flesh just a little. “And then some.”

  I had no idea what was going on, but it seemed obvious that she was a Nér-vrogan spy. How they knew I was here and what her mission might be was a mystery, one I was going to solve right then—one way or another.

  “Please,” her wretched sobbing meant nothing to me as she vainly tried to wriggle free. “You’re hurting me, Ash.”

  “I’m going to do far more than just hurt you if you don’t tell me what the fuck is going on.” She let out a pained cry as I yanked her head back and scraped the dagger across her throat. “You said the ancient lore was all gone, yet you were able to connect me to the Sintári right away.”

  “M-my mother had access to Lord Tarvul’s library,” Kyrah whimpered. “She told me all the forbidden stories she read there.”

  That sounded far too convenient, and I was about to… persuade Kyrah a bit more forcefully when Scar stopped me.

  ‘She speaks the truth, Ashíel.’

  “How can you tell?” I was more curious than doubtful.

  ‘Her scent gives it away. She smells only of fear, not deceit.’

  Well, that was good to know.

  My relief was immediately drowned out by an overwhelming sense of remorse—I’d fucked up, yet again. Easing my dagger away from Kyrah’s neck, I let her up and stalked away to sit down across the tiny cavern. My guilt only magnified as I watched Kyrah rub at the bright red wounds I’d left on her throat. Although I offered to help, I fully expected her to refuse anything from me.

  “I’m sorry, Kyrah.” The words seemed pathetically inadequate, even to me. “I thought… never mind what I thought. Will you let me heal that for you?”

  If my manipulations hadn’t ruined everything between us, I was certain the rough treatment I’d given her had. I braced myself for her angry rebuke, but even though the hurt expression never left her face, Kyrah silently nodded her assent. In my surprise, I hesitated for only a moment before sitting down beside her.

  I winced when I saw the small gash and patch of raw skin carved into her flesh up close. Kyrah had done nothing to earn my fury, yet in my paranoia, I’d unleashed my rage upon her. Taking a deep breath, I reached for my healing crystals only to realize that I’d forgotten to tie the small pouch to my belt. I was about to go fetch them when I remembered the talents I’d gained access to that very morning—the Curate Spell Cure Minor Wounds in particular.

  Although I’d trained with the magic, I had never quite managed to master it. Or, at least I hadn’t thought so. Kyrah flinched when I placed my hand on her neck, but as I recalled the incantation, a warm blue light passed between us, and I watched while the wounds on her throat faded away. Knowing how much Kyrah must have resented her need for me at that moment, I tried to leave as soon as the pale glow vanished. Yet even before I could rise, she gripped me in a tight embrace.

  “Thank you for blessing me so, honored one.” I felt her tears of joy falling against my skin.

  “I don’t know what I am, Kyrah,” I replied, gently pushing her away. “But I’m certainly not someone you should revere. All I know is that I’m an idiot who almost killed her only friend in the world.”

  “No, you’re so much more than that.” Kyrah shook her head in denial. “You’ve only just discovered yourself; I know this must be a difficult time for you, but if you let me, I’ll do all I can to help you find your way.”

  “Kyrah, I nearly murdered you a minute ago.” I couldn’t believe what she was telling me. “Not to mention the way I’ve been toying with your emotions. After everything I’ve done, you still want to help me?”

  “I’ve lived with the constant threat of death my entire life, my Lady.” I bristled at the honorific Kyrah offered. “But I have no fear of you.”

  Considering what I’d just done to her, I found that hard to accept. Yet I also knew that I needed her guidance if I was going to survive. Despite the Abilities I’d gained, I was still alone in a strange land—without Kyrah to save me from my ignorance, I was doomed.

  “Thank you.” The words nearly caught in my throat, and I hung my head as I accepted Kyrah’s offer, knowing that I didn’t deserve the second—or perhaps third—chance she’d given me.

  ‘You’ll never lose her. She’s yours forever now, just like me.’

  I was about to ask Scar how the fuck he could know that, but I managed to stop myself just in time. The sly grin on his face told me that he’d recognized my hesitation, and despite my silence, Scar answered the question that had been on my lips.

  ‘We share something, you and I. It’s easy enough for me to recognize another whose devotion you have earned.’ />
  I hadn’t earned shit. Kyrah’s commitment to me had come in spite of my actions, not because of them. Yet even if Scar was correct and I’d managed to regain Kyrah’s favor, I wasn’t going to count on her misguided devotion to keep her by my side.

  “I owe you a lot, Kyrah, not the least of which are my apologies,” I took the first step towards making amends. “I have little control over some things, but I promise I’ll never hurt you like that again.”

  It wasn’t much, but it was all I felt safe to offer her at the time.

  “You will do whatever you do.” Kyrah gazed at me in open admiration. “None of that matters.”

  Okay, that was more than just a little disturbing.

  Although I understood that a great deal of Kyrah’s devotion came from what I’d chosen to reveal to her, I became increasingly concerned that my unintentional influence over her might have played a greater role than I’d realized. Even though I had no idea how, I vowed to do whatever I could to put an end to my intrusions. Yet I also knew that I needed to do much more than just that if I wanted to prevent myself from following in the Goddess’ wicked footsteps.

  “Kyrah, I may not know what I am, but I do have some familiarity with the powers I’ve acquired,” I reluctantly confessed. “Without someone to rein me in or tell me when I go astray, I might become something far worse than you can imagine. I don’t need or want someone who lets me do anything at all; you’re going to have to tell me when I’m wrong—forcefully, if necessary.”

  We stared at each other while Kyrah hesitated for a long moment, obviously unsure of the role I envisioned for her. I thought she was about to refuse me when a look of resolve crossed her face, and Kyrah finally made her reply.

  “That won’t be easy for me.” She glanced away for just a second before meeting my gaze again. “But I understand that it’s what you require.”

  “I’ll do my best.” Kyrah’s determined expression told me I’d get nothing less than that from her.

  Considering the rather difficult morning we’d already had, Kyrah and I both thought it would be better to stay put for the day. Traveling through the dangerous lands around us in our mutually distracted state would certainly not have been wise. Even though we made no progress on our journey, I didn’t see that as an excuse to simply lay about. So, while we kept to the confines of the tiny cavern, I resumed Kyrah’s training with her blades.

  We’d skipped our sparring while Kyrah had been ‘unwell,’ but I did all I could to make up for lost time. After hours of mock combat, I finally allowed her a brief respite for lunch. For the first time in days, I watched as she ate more than just the hunks of roasted meat we’d packed away, but my relief soon vanished when Kyrah rushed outside to spill the contents of her stomach.

  “Are you alright?” I’d given her some privacy during her bout of nausea but inquired as soon as collapsed onto her bedroll.

  “No,” she moaned pitifully, yet did not elaborate.

  “What is it?” I was forced to prompt her when Kyrah remained silent.

  Kyrah stared at the rocks beneath her feet as she spoke. “I thought I was just imagining it this morning, but normal food does nothing for me now. In fact, it’s making me sick.”

  Although she never tore her eyes away from the ground, I could see the guilty look on Kyrah’s face easily enough. Her odd expression left me puzzled for a moment until the realization hit me like a ton of bricks—Kyrah’s only remaining source of nourishment flowed through my veins.

  Even though my actions had been unknowing, I’d made Kyrah dependent on me for her very existence. It was just the sort of thing I might have expected from the manipulative Goddess, yet I’d done it to her myself. In order to gain her sustenance, Kyrah would have to endure continued exposure to my influence, something I simply couldn’t allow. Yet, what choice did I have? The only alternative would be for me to watch as she slowly starved to death.

  “You can have what you need, Kyrah, I won’t deny you,” I tentatively offered her. “But we’re going to have to find some way for you to feed without me… affecting you.”

  “Can you drink from a cup rather than my veins?” I hit upon the obvious solution that had somehow eluded me before.

  “What?” Kyrah barely contained her shock. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  “Of course not!” I wasn’t sure what the problem was, but there was clearly some issue with my suggestion.

  “Oh, sorry, I forgot. There’s no way you could’ve known.” Kyrah noted my confusion. “The nourishment I receive isn’t just from the blood I drink. I also take in some of your Essence as well. In order for that transfer to occur, I have to receive it directly from you. Any delay not only causes that Essence to be lost but also makes the blood extremely toxic.”

  So much for that theory…

  “How long before you need me again?” I gave up trying to avoid the inevitable and instead focused on planning our next step.

  “I’m not sure.” The hesitant notes in her voice gave away Kyrah’s uncertainty as she shrugged. “I’m not really hungry, I was only trying to eat something out of habit. It could be days or even weeks… I just don’t know.”

  However long we had, I intended to use that time wisely. In addition to resuming our journey north, I’d keep up Kyrah’s training and try to find some way to restrain my influence. I no longer had to guess what I was; I knew exactly what I’d become. With that knowledge, perhaps I’d be able to rein in my innate abilities more easily. The tales the Goddess had told me included her own struggles to gain control over her powers. Following the path she’d blazed for me should make my job a little easier than hers had been, although I certainly wouldn’t take that road all the way to its bitter end. All I wanted to learn from her was the method of mastering the forces within me, not how to use those powers against Kyrah—or anyone else for that matter.

  As we sat resting on the cool stone of the cavern’s floor, I tried to recall all of the Goddess stories, and I remembered her telling me about an… ‘Inventory Page’ she was able to view. While I was aware of all the mundane items I carried, I’d never been able to identify my own armor and weapons. The Goddess had given them to me many years ago when I first began my training, but she’d refused to reveal their powers to me. She’d only taunted me by saying that I would be ready to receive her true gifts when I could see them for myself.

  Although I’d been eager to earn her rewards at the time, I only realized later that it was just another fucking lie she’d told me. Ravíenne, Caelen, and Immaní had all been given God-forged weapons and armor without having to pass the Goddess’ ludicrous test; I was the only one who’d been forced to actually prove my worth to her. I had no doubt that the so-called gifts she’d ‘blessed’ me with were just a collection of cast-offs she’d found lying around the Palace, but discovering their precise properties might still prove somewhat useful.

  A quick glance revealed that Kyrah was just as lost in her thoughts as I was, so I concentrated on the word ‘Inventory’ for a moment until a list of all my gear popped up in my vision. I wasn’t quite used to the strange um, interface? and I jolted at the sudden appearance of the words. Settling myself down again, I sat dumbstruck as I looked at the brief description of the daggers I wore behind my back, unwilling to believe what I saw. I could only think that it was some odd coincidence until my continued stare summoned their full details.

  Dagger of Laceration – Wounds inflicted by this blade have a bonus damage over time bleed effect.

  Defender’s Spike – When wielded in combat, this dagger increases the user’s defenses by 20%.

  I recognized both of those weapons easily enough. The Goddess had wielded the first through most of her early days, while the second had been a gift she’d given to Queen Líann long ago. Although I knew that she’d replaced them with far more powerful weapons since then, to say that I was stunned to discover that she’d bestowed the obviously meaningful daggers upon me would have been an understatemen
t. I realized then that the worn sheath I carried the weapons in was most likely the very same one Georl had given her, only making the implications of the Goddess’ gifts even more inexplicable to me. Could it be that… no, there had to be some other explanation. I-I just didn’t know what it could possibly be.

  I shook my head in an effort to clear my mind and wipe the discomforting words from my sight. Setting aside the anomaly of the daggers, I looked over my short swords next, fully anticipating them to be more in line with my expectations.

  Daughter’s Blades – These matched blades were crafted by the Goddess of Justice for the sole use of her beloved daughter, Ashíel. One Sword provides a 20% increase to all Armor and Defensive Skills, and the other boosts Blade talents similarly.

  But I always thought…

  That made no sense. The Goddess felt nothing for me. In fact, she’d seemed to have spent years trying to marry me off just to be rid of me. I’d seen little of her since my mother died, and it was obvious to me that the only reason she’d ever shown me any affection at all was simply to placate Insleí. But was that true, or was it my own recollection that was at fault? I vaguely remembered the Goddess’ efforts to console me in the wake of my mother’s loss, but in my grief, I’d spurned her. For the first time in years, I recalled the angry words and hateful insults I’d hurled at her, as well as the pained expression on the Goddess’ face when I’d driven her away. I… I just didn’t know what the truth was anymore, and when my downcast eyes settled on the next line of text, I took in a sharp breath at the shock of what I saw there.

  Bow of Impact – This finely crafted weapon applies additional damage and effects with each successful hit. The power and intensity of these effects are dependent on the wielder’s Strength.

  The already blurry image of the world beyond the interface melted into an indistinct mess as tears began to fill my eyes. There was no way I could deny the truth any longer, and a flood of memories came back to me, confirming the horrible suspicions that had been rising in my mind. Dreya hadn’t abandoned me—it had been my own spiteful actions that had pushed her away. She wasn’t the awful person I’d been imagining—I was the truly evil one. I wanted to rush back home to the Imperial Palace and beg her forgiveness, even though I knew I was completely undeserving of it, but my misguided hatred had driven me so far away from her that any reconciliation between us was now all but impossible. Every misstep I’d made since coming to Runía paled in comparison to that grievous error. Not only had I destroyed my relationship with Dreya, as if that wasn’t bad enough, but I’d also sullied the memory of my mother, consigning her to the role of a mere puppet when I knew she was far stronger than that.