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I found my consciousness flicker into activity.

Am I alive, or is this the afterlife?

Why was I even in this place again?

Oh, right. I was the only son of a Filipina and a Korean national, a child born from a casual hook-up. It was unfortunate (or fortunate? I did get to meet two wonderful kids, and two great old people) that I was born as I was, and because of that, they abandoned me in this little rural town, ruled by a raving, magical regent, that relaxed her self-reviewed resplendence, by resolving rambunctious rebels of their rashly-refined revolutions, as they receive the full range of her self-righteous wrath.

Well... enough reminiscing, I guess.

Then, I felt a mental tug, pulling me towards something.

And I woke up.

It seemed that my arms, were bandaged, but I could feel my fingers squirming, underneath. I patted my pockets, and winced at the pain it caused.

Odd.

I surveyed the space, where I was. It was a small room, with wooden walls, a wooden floor, a wooden bed, virtually, everything was wooden. Curtains, with a flower pattern, flanked the single window, while the morning sun met my gaze. I blinked. Beside the bed, was a small wooden drawer, and on top: an empty vase. Beside the farthest corner on the right, was a large door, carved from some kind of black wood.

The black door opened, abruptly, the room seemed to shake as it did. What came in, was a bear, with brown fur, and a full beard. A bear that stood, and walked as is the sequence, on his hind legs, but this particular bear only had hair on its face, and perhaps, other areas as well, but were, fortunately, covered by a number of leather apparels. Actually, he looked more like a man who was a bear or a bear who wanted to be a man.

The bear-man, Harold, glared at me, with his dark-brown eyes. "You're awake, and I took the liberty of repairin' your glasses," he said.

"Thanks," I replied. I blinked, and I just noticed that indeed, the glasses were fine, but it seemed more that he bought a new pair, rather than fixing mine.

Harold's lips curved into a frown, a vein visibly throbbing on his forehead. "So, what happened to you, Xavier? I thought you were out, component-huntin' in the woods." he turned his gaze to the window, and crossed his arms, a scowl on his face. "And then, I find you dead in Lantaw Grove, along with a nuno golem!" he glared back at me.

I managed to make a weak smile. "About that..." I scratched an itch on my head. "I did do some gathering, but I stopped to relieve myself, and sadly, I did it on a nuno mound," I then recounted my tale of death to him, and he intently listened to what I had to say.

After I finished my story, he was shaking his head, his arms still crossed. "You're an idiot. How many years have you been huntin' in the forest? Ten? Twelve? And you take a piss in the one place, where the nuno live?" he had on his bear-face, an indignant expression, like he was going to skin me, or something.

"I know," I said. "It was a stupid mistake, one that will not happen, again." I closed my eyes, for a moment, to get a feel of my appendages. It seemed that I still had my fingers, which I remembered, burned from the fire.

I opened my eyes, and looked at Harold, who seemed to guess, that I had questions. "Harold, I thought I died. What happened and how'd you find me?" I asked.

"How could I not find you? You fuckin' burned the grove down to ashes!" he rummaged through the content of his satchel, and took out a vial, filled with a transparent, red liquid, then threw it to me. It landed between my legs. "That's a new potion, I made. I call it 'lifeblood', that there," he pointed to the vial, "saved you from the brink of oblivion."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "So, I became your guinea pig? And how did this even work, given my situation?" seeing as my hands were tied, I used them as tongs, and gripped the vial, turning it: this way and that. There were some small particles floating inside the liquid, but I chalked it up to rushed mixing.

Harold explained that the vial was a mixture of: sigbin blood, leaves of a kingsfoil, roots of a mandrake, and several minor spices, that he refused to disclose, even after much prodding. He said lifeblood, unlike most potions, did not act in accordance to the user's mana, but with its own - hence, the use of the sigbin blood. Basically, it mimicked body functions, while the damaged organs healed themselves, and it could even regrow limbs.

I placed the vial, on the bedside drawer, and I tried getting off the bed, but I nearly fell. Harold helped me up, and told me, it was time for me to go home and to be careful. "Why?" I asked. I mean he went nervous, all of a sudden, which was out-of-character for him.

He sighed, "The witch's comin' again."

fuck. "W-Why?" I nearly fell over from the shock. "We already paid our monthly tithes!" this village was a witch-town - a settlement under the control of a powerful magus, even though, we are still part of the Philippine government - and, thus, every household had to give an offering specific to the household. Controlling this town was an old hag, who went by the name of Madame Vera. She had three other towns that she controlled, too.

She, essentially, made these villages, her personal factory, where we make products that work with the usage of mana, and she sells them to the city-states nearby. Fortunately for her, the mana-cap(acity) of the average villager was close to being negligible - but okay enough, to use regular magic products - that they couldn't use what they made. I suspect the same could be said, of the other villages under her grip.

Harold placed his paws- hands on the window-sill, gazing at the outside. "Rumors say that she felt the beginnings of a surge." he faced me, with a sad look, an almost-pitying expression. "We all know, Xavier..." he put his hands behind his head, scratching an itch on his neck, "the twins are the only kids, young enough, to be havin' the surge in this li'l area..." He was right.

Every child that had surged was taken away, either by the government or by Madame Vera. I didn't know which was worse.

I ran out, and headed to my house. fuck. Where's my phone when I need it? I knew this would happen someday, but - fuck. - I didn't do anything. Now, that hag's going to take the kids away from me? I shook my head, as I sped up. Damn it! Why'd Harold have to live on the outskirts? I'd been running for how many minutes, and it seemed that the lifeblood, had a duration, or it could be because, I was doing a severely, strenuous activity, that the vial's effects quickly vanished.

My legs were on fire now.

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