Jack rose from his chair and walked to the far wall where his bow and quiver hung upon an old aether-steam valve, mounted high to keep them safely beyond the reach of children. The valve hissed as he lifted the white oak bow free, releasing a breath of spent aether-steam that curled through the lamplight before vanishing into a vent.

  He ran his thumb over the curved wood, pausing where a dark bloodstain had soaked into the durability runes. “I enjoyed archery practice,” he admitted to the empty room. “I actually enjoyed it.” The confession surprised him. He returned the bow to its place, feeling the faint heat still lingering in the brass fittings, and crossed back to his desk with a happy smile. The thought of a quiet evening spent inscribing spell scrolls steadied him more than he expected.

  As he was about to start a [Chronos Sphere] spell scroll, he recalled the bronze coin that he’d picked up from the temple of Hermes. Retrieving it from his coin pouch, he examined the coin.

  It was no ordinary coin. The bronze shimmered beneath the lamplight, its surface neither polished nor dull, but with a lustre that shifted as though alive. On one side, Hermes’ face smirked in sly amusement, the eyes half-lidded, knowing far too much. The reverse bore the God’s sigil: a caduceus, two serpents coiled about a winged staff, their scales engraved with impossible precision.

  The bronze coin wasn’t legal tender in Mercia, so it had little value. “I’ve never seen one like this before.” Jack flicked it into the air, caught it, and laid it upon the back of his other hand. “Heads.”

  The coin glimmered as it landed. Hermes’ smirk greeted him.

  Jack laughed and tossed it again. “Heads.” Again, the same result. Once more. “Heads.”

  He frowned, the sound of the coin’s landing somehow sharper now, its ring a touch too long. “It’s just a coincidence.” His voice lacked conviction.

  Jack flicked the coin again. “Heads.” The smirk looked back.

  Again. “Tails.” The smirk remained. Again. Again… Every toss, every call, always that same knowing face staring back at him.

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  The room felt smaller as he repeated the coin toss another dozen times, each time randomly selecting heads or tails, and every time Hermes’ smirking face greeted him. The lamplight trembled against the walls.

  Jack leaned in closer to inspect the coin. “Is it enchanted?” The coin felt warm, almost alive, but he saw no runes etched into its surface. He recalled times in his past life when the coin might have been helpful while he gambled in filthy taverns. “I wonder if anyone could detect this?” He gave the coin a tap. “Shame you aren’t a pair of dice.”

  There were enchantments designed to alter dice and cheat at gambling, which was why reputable gambling houses relied on runic devices to confirm their dice were free of magical interference.

  He set the coin down upon his desk and activated [Eagle Eye]. His vision sharpened until the coin filled his sight, every line of the engraving impossibly crisp. He scanned it slowly, millimetre by millimetre, searching for hidden markings. When his gaze passed over Hermes’ right eye, the engraved lid winked at him.

  Jack jerked upright, the chair clattering to the floor. “What the hell!” His heart pounded. He blinked, but the coin was still again, as innocent as before, just a smirking God on a piece of bronze.

  He let out a shaky breath and looked around his desk. It was cluttered with parchment, ink, and the ever-vigilant toy dragon that guarded his tools. “PenDragon, we’ve got a good life here. Let’s protect it. Together.” He slipped the coin between the dragon’s tiny bronze claws, tail side outward. “I’ll put it on a chain later, for luck.”

  PenDragon’s eyes glowed bright blue at the sound of its name, ready for voice-activated commands from its master. It released a small puff of aether-steam, confirming its new duty to protect their new life and family.

  As Jack returned to his work, metal claws clicked as the dragon shifted. The bronze coin turned without command, once more revealing the smirking face of Hermes.

  Jack stared, the corner of his mouth twitching despite the unease curling through his stomach. He laughed, though his voice lacked its usual strength. Shaking his head, he righted his chair, sat down, and began to inscribe the first [Chronos Sphere] scroll.

  As a scribe, he wasn’t fearful of Hermes; he was the God who watched scribes and merchants alike. This was a God’s blessing, not a threat.

  He spent the evening inscribing spell scrolls under the watchful eye and smirk of Hermes. After the completion of each spell scroll, Jack turned the bronze coin back to tails, but each time PenDragon—without orders—turned it back to the smirking face of Hermes.

  The God’s grin glimmered in the lamplight, as Jack kept writing, pretending not to notice that he was no longer working alone.

  “Creepy bastard!” Jack laughed as he started a new [Chronos Sphere] spell scroll.

  CAN A HEALER SURVIVE THE APOCALYPSE... ALONE?

  ?

  Fantasy LitRPG Adventure Psychological Progression

  The system took everyone from Earth. Except for Matt.

  Earth's integration into the system has started, plunging it into a multiverse where conflict is law. To prepare, humanity was sent to distant planets to participate in a 'tutorial'. All except one.

  Rejected and abandoned on a new Earth where mana has turned beasts into monsters, Matt must find a way out of the harsh Egyptian desert, all while being a class that has long been deemed redundant: Healer.

  A mysterious interim leader, a strange dungeon placed in the middle of nowhere, and a class ridiculed by everyone. Will Matt be able to overcome these difficulties and reunite with his friends, or will the hardships of the system break him first?

  Alone, under-equipped, and written off, he will either reinvent the rules of the system... or become Earth's first casualty.

  * A Tale of Survival & Revenge *