Most kids receive their first [Skill] by age twelve—if not on their birthday, within a week or two. I received mine on the first day of my memory.

  Skill Acquired: [Leech Grip]

  Leech vitality from living things within your grasp. Amount of vitality leeched scales per mana spent. Levels gained increase maximum vitality draw per second and reduce mana cost.

  I lay on engraved runes, confused, blinking at the shadows that dance in blue candlelight. I have no sense of who I am or where I lay, but I see someone—a man, covered in black robes that hide all but the hollow cheeks of his face, collapsed by one of the candles. Blood trickles from his arm and head onto an outline of white chalk: a circle that surrounds me, intersecting the runes.

  Beyond the light, a dozen figures approach, each with glowing robes of gold, contrasting the darkness beyond them.

  The black-robed man near the candles coughs blood.

  The golden figures stop at the edge of the runes, forming a half-circle. They chant, raising staves to the air that glow with holy light. Tongues of white fire fracture the sky above them and cascade toward me.

  The bloody man at the circle’s edge lifts a glowing hand, his crimson blood matching the red glow of his fingers. He touches the runes by his head and the color spreads across the runes all around me, just as the gouts of flame reach my skin.

  ~ ~ ~

  Agony. Bitter agony, twisting along my body like knives of hot steel. I arch in pain, but as soon as it starts, the blazing fires of light are gone.

  My vision clears, but the scorching pain remains.

  I’m no longer on runes in the dark.

  Only the ground has the blackness of night: scorched earth, a perfect circle of destruction surrounding where I now rest.

  I can hear birds now, and the sounds of insects. Alien to me. I’m in a glade, in the middle of a forest.

  But I have little strength. I can feel my body weakening, threatening to break.

  I reach out and dig a hand in the dirt, then drag myself forward, towards the forest. I need something. Water. Burns rage across my body with each movement.

  Another hand in dirt to get purchase and continue.

  It isn’t enough. I can feel myself fading. I want to rest. I want the world to stop. I reach forward, digging a hand into the dirt, but my arm won’t pull me anymore.

  I dig my fingers deeper in the dirt, then touch something. A thick root.

  [Leech Grip] activates by instinct and I gasp at the sudden coldness that traces my skin, quenching the flames of pain.

  Again. I [Leech Grip] strength from the root, until it becomes ash in my fingers.

  With the soothing sense of relief comes an even greater sense of exhaustion. My initial terror settles, my body healed enough to survive. I cannot keep my eyes open.

  ~ ~ ~

  Darkness greets me when I wake, as does thirst.

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  I can’t stand yet, so I crawl, ignoring the rawness of my skin, still covered in partially healed burns. At the edge of the ashen circle, I catch a handful of grass and drain it. I continue this practice, [Leech Grip] my saving grace as I expand the circle of blacked earth.

  When I have the strength to stand, I stumble towards the nearest tree, seeking a stronger life to drain. But when I touch the rough bark, [Leech Grip] fails me.

  Low Mana

  I can sense something missing in me, empty. Mana low, half broken body. An appropriate way to spend my second day of memory.

  I still need water. I limp through the forest, seeking a stream, a pond, even a leaf of dew if I can find it.

  Everything looks the same: tall oaks and scattered alders that block the stars. Unseen bushes harass me. When mana permits, I [Leech Grip] the bushes that block my path. Eventually I can walk without a limp, but my steps still hurt, I am far from healed.

  Dawn nears when I hear the faint trickle of water. I stop and listen, then hop a bush, letting the sound guide me. Before long, I reach a narrow stream and fall to my knees. I stick my face low, squeezing between the muddy edges so I can reach the small water source, then drink.

  I feel my mana replenish, along with my stamina, with each swallow. I relish the flavor of this coldness. I lift my head to splash some water on my skin. It shocks me at first, then relief cascades across my shoulders and down my aching back.

  A growl surprises me. I stand and see two creatures in the early light.

  Twilight Howler - Level 2

  Each of the monstrous creatures has long, branched tail that ends in a barb, but what alarms me most is its face: an elongated snout that could touch the ground with little effort—and teeth, protruding from the sides of its face, so long I don’t understand how it can eat.

  I learn how a moment later when both howlers open their jaws, no, unhinge their jaws, gaping so wide that the bottoms drag in the dirt.

  I take a step backward, my eyes locked on the closest howler, then the other. They approach me with maws wide open, angling their path so they can intersect me from two sides.

  I back into a thorny bush and jolt in place.

  My panic must be the signal, because the howlers charge at me.

  I turn and flee. But too little light guides me and I stumble through brush and over rocks. I can hear howler jaws rustle the leaves and branches as they drag across the forest floor.

  With a strangled leap, I catch the lowest branch of a tree and haul myself up from the ground. The howlers stop at the base of the tree and circle it, yellow eyes upon me.

  The branch is too small, so I climb higher.

  I find a nice thick branch above me, sturdy enough to rest on. As I reach the thick branch, I sense something, an itch in the back of my mind. I look towards the source of the irritant, seeing nothing but tree.

  It isn’t until the branch breaks that I realize that the irritant may have tried to save my life.

  I fall, clinging to the branch, until it crashes into the ground.

  I can’t breathe for a second, my chest hurts.

  A whimper emanates beneath me. One of the howlers has been crushed by the branch, but the other has already circled the tree to meet me. It charges.

  Standing’s impossible, so I roll over to the other side of the branch, still gasping for air.

  The howler smashes into the branch, its maw stuck in the wood. I try to stand while it wrestles itself free. I’m up on one knee when I hear it howl as it tears itself free.

  As I get to my feet, the howler leaps over the branch, its maw closed. Then it unhinges again and dashes forward as I turn to run.

  Pain erupts from my legs and I fall to the ground.

  The howler has its jaws locked on my legs, each of its many long teeth sunk deep into my flesh. Blood laces the skin of its jaws and hunger fills its yellow eyes.

  I reach out and try to pry the monster loose, but it only tightens its hold, eliciting a new wave of pain.

  I scramble around for a stick, a rock, anything—then I remember my [Skill].

  I spin myself back to the howler, my hands trembling from the pain in my legs, and grab the howler by the snout.

  I [Leech Grip] with all I have, coursing mana through my body. The raw sensation of vitality fills me, combating the pain. I leech from the howler until its aura changes. Its eyes lose their hunger. Fear begins to waft from it, like rotting fish.

  The howler retracts its jaws, whimpers, then scrambles through the undergrowth as it flees out of sight. I don’t need the mana low message to realize I’ve drained every ounce of it.

  [Leech Grip] has reached Level 2.

  My punctured legs fade into an itchy reminder. I find my way back to the stream and drink my fill before returning to the scorched glade, where I first arrived in this mysterious place.

  I touch the soft ash that dusts the earth. The tops of trees that border the glade still smolder, as if the evidence of the holy flames cannot be quenched.

  There’s no sign of the runes, no sign of how I got here. I’m a lost child.

  I can feel the pangs of hunger bubble up inside me. No matter how much I leech, it will not replace food.