I stalked back and forth, snarling at Wisterl. I had been two days since I had begun this intensive training, and while I couldn't remember why I was here, at this point, I was too far gone in my rage to care. I threw myself forward, lunging, not caring about the burning fire in my lungs or decorating my neck on both sides, just wanting to put this Dulvroc (the god of rot and vermin) spawn in her place. She lunged forward, but in the back of my mind, I knew it was a feint. There weren't ANY colored spots on her showing weakness, so I didn't bite. Instead, I circled to the right, trying to get her to open her stance.

She shifted to the left to continue circling me, and, after three steps, there was the faintest, shortest glint of red at the base of her tail, and I immediately seized on the opportunity. I knifed my left hand at her face to attempt to fake her out, and, a split second later, I sent my right hand to the base of her spine. Wisterl seemed to see that the strike to her face was a feint, lacking any real force, and dedicated her focus to my right hand knifing towards her. She lowered her body just enough that I wouldn't be able to strike her hard enough to cause any real pain, but as she did so, a bright flash of red showed on her stomach, and I lifted my right foot to kick out at her. For the first time, Wisterl didn't see it coming, and I got a solid blow in on her, the blunted claws at the tips of my toes making bone-shuddering contact with her ribs. She grunted in pain, then looked up at me in surprise, a rictus of a grin spreading across her face.

Suddenly, she was up in my face, below my chin. Before I could react, she had latched both of her arms over mine, locked both my arms below her own, had brought me to my knees, and had her jaws lightly closed over my throat. I growled my concession, and knowing what was coming next, gritted my teeth. A thin line of pain was etched into the right side of my neck, reaching my shoulder, joining the rest of the lines of pain. I snarled in a mixture of frustration and pain and shook her off of me. The smell of fresh blood, even though it was my own, served to heighten my [Bloodlust] and I shrugged off the pain, lessening it to mere discomfort.

I struggled to my feet, my exhaustion and blood loss slowing me even more. It had been a while since Second had last been in here to heal me, and I hadn't eaten in some hours, so it was probably getting to be about that time, but I couldn't bring myself to stop. I couldn't for the life of me remember why, but I knew that I didn't have enough time, and that I needed to focus on keeping [Bloodlust] going while occasionally using my magic. The thought crossed my mind, and I pushed the magic through the now-familiar pathways, and a jolt of energy suddenly coursed through me, waking me up and focusing my exhaustion addled brain. I knew somewhere that this was no true replacement for sleep, but I would sleep once I had accomplished my goals.

Again, I began to pace, feeling jittery and... not entirely myself. Nonetheless, I knew that I needed to continue. Wisterl watched from a distance far enough away to be sure she would have the opportunity to respond if I tried anything. I had, twice, but the second time she had repeatedly smashed my head into the dirt, so I wasn't willing to subject myself to that again. Instead, I paced, rolling my neck and ignoring the pain that caused. I felt the scabs tear and again the scent of blood washed over me as I felt myself stand taller.

Then, my mood changed. No longer was I unhinged, and I could remember the stupid things I had recently done. Had I really charged at Wisterl screaming, "I'll rip your throat out and use your corpse as my pillow"? Somehow, I knew that I had, and for a brief moment, embarrassment flooded me. That was far from the most obscene thing I had threatened her with, and the entire time, it had been responded to by chuckles and challenges for me to "Go ahead and do it already".

I stood tall, and nonthreatening, "Wisterl, I think I'm done for now. I'll let you know when I'm ready for another bout." Then, looking around at the room and noting the blood--MY blood--painting the walls and floor, I added, "But no time soon, I'm afraid."

Wisterl sighed and settled back on her haunches, "You came back to yourself faster than I'd hoped. You've improved a lot, you don't think too much now. Trust yourself." Then, she nodded and excused herself. A couple others of the Alqat were present (6 and 13, I thought, but wasn't sure), and they nodded with approval to me, and the one I thought was 6 spoke, "It's been ages since someone went that long with Wisterl. She'll never stop, if you let her. I don't know what keeps her going, but..." He shook his head, "It's impressive, whatever it is. You were too, for that matter. Go get some rest."

I nodded, and walked out, or, tried to. My legs felt like jelly, even with the energizing magic I had sent throughout my body, and I stumbled out of the enclave, looked up the pathway to my den, and for the first time, grumbled to myself about how far uphill it was to where I wanted to go.

...

It was with great effort that I stood straight and walked normally from the entrance of the den to my room. Frankly speaking, I didn't think I was especially successful in doing so, but I was too exhausted to bring myself to care.

I flopped to the ground and almost couldn't bring myself to do anything but sleep, but I couldn't help looking at my [Status].

[Improved Bloodlust—current evolutionary progress: 3/3 Evolution successful. New Skill: Combatant's Bloodlust.

Sonilphon—current evolutionary progress: 47/50]

I wanted to cheer or celebrate in some way, but I was just too tired. However, looking at the numbers, tomorrow I would be able to qualify to evolve to a Khatif. The thought brought a smile to my face, which I assumed was still there once I fell asleep, all of half a second later.