Discal groggily opened his eyes, but as soon as he did, he was greeted with the blinding light of the sun. He squinted and cursed softly at the unwelcome pain. “...Damn this light.” Then, it dawned on him. He murmured, “Light...?”

He swiftly stood up, with a force enough to cave the dried land below. He swept his gaze above, and what he saw was a peaceful blue sky that he longed to see. Blue sky? he thought as a smile gradually formed on his face.

Tears unconsciously gushed out as his mind had finally understood that he got out of the fog. His legs gave way at the sudden introduction of bliss. With this newfound glee, he shouted, “I’m alive!” and uncontrollably laughed. “I’m alive!” he repeated, like a mantra, between bursts of laughter.

But his bliss was short-lived as his gaze caught the dried and cracked land ahead and the glaring pool of blood surrounding him. It was a pool of blood comparable to the amount that could be siphoned from a corpse. His smile vanished at the sight.

He turned around, in order to confirm what he dreaded the most. It was a decrepit tree, quite like the one he had leaned on when he was still in the fog. It was covered in streaks of blood as if a corpse had exploded in the area. His body trembled and his pupils dilated at the sight, but only for an instant. He forcibly calmed himself down even if his body and mind said otherwise. “It would do me no good to be afraid of a dead tree...” he said with a wry smile.

He breathed a couple times to ease the anxiety that swelled up. He might be weak physically and incapable of putting up a fight, but all those years of stuffing himself in a room full of books granted him a keen and steady mind. Thus, it was obvious to him that something was not right, and it was imperative to deal with these things logically. With that as the spark, it rekindled his inquisitive mind anew, overlapping his dread.

He inspected himself first, for he just now realized that he should have died as he was bleeding heavily before he passed out. It baffled him on how he was still alive and he had an urge to find out why. But as soon as he did so, his confusion rose even more as he shouted, “Huh!?” He looked down below, and what he saw was him naked. His clothes were gone.

He looked around to see where they had gone to, with the premise that they might had been removed by someone to treat his wound. The idea was sketchy even to him, considering the Accursed Woods was a place that warded off the living like it was the plague. But it was more likely, than to say that the Gods themselves had deigned to save him. The Gods saving him was too preposterous of a thought, and shook his head in denial.

He continued to search, but in the end, all he found out were scraps and pieces of clothing strewn about. ”Strange,” he said to himself. The pieces were familiar to him, after all, they were the remnants of his clothing.

“It’s like they were blasted apart,” he mused to himself as he reached out for a piece. The piece had jagged ends as if they were shredded with hate and not cut cleanly as one would have expect. He compiled his thoughts to guess what had happened, but the only logical conclusion he made was that no one had treated him while he was asleep. It seemed more probable that his clothes were just collateral. “But why?” he asked to no one. His words lingered for awhile. Afterwards, he shook his head to remove the useless thoughts, and gave up on finding why he was naked. There was just not enough information.

With the clothing matter put on hold, this time, he inspected his body’s state. The first thing he noticed was not the wound, but that his skin turned unnaturally pale, ashen in fact, almost like that of a corpse. In his surprise, he shouted, “Am I dead!?” and prodded all over.

He checked every part of his body to see if he was just hallucinating and hopefully to convince himself that he was not dead. In the end, he found out that he was not dead and obviously, not a walking corpse, but the reason why he was unnaturally pale was still unknown. Refusing to give up, he inspected himself once more.

He gazed sharply at his pale skin, hoping to see if there were differences since he woke up. He knew that he was not dead considering his heart was still beating, and he could feel blood flowing in his veins. Then, by process of elimination, he deduced that there must be a foreign substance in him that caused him to be pale. The thought made him smile a bitter one. Something made him like this, and it made him uncomfortable that his body was tampered with.

The uncomfortable feeling almost made him want to cut his skin open to see what had changed..

After awhile, his efforts bore no fruit and he too gave up on the matter of his pale skin.

He breathed deeply to relax his nerves. This was his habit whenever he struck a dead end. To him, it would do more harm to his mental faculties or anything in general if one thinks too deeply. It was better to relax and start anew. After gathering himself, he continued his inspection.

He reached out for his side where his wound should be, but all he felt was smooth skin. “It healed?” he said to himself in a level voice. Acting surprised every time something happened out of his expectations was unlike him. He read somewhere that it was better to be calm and composed regardless of the situation, and he aspired to be such a person.

He checked it once more. “Just to be sure,” he said, but it really was healed completely. No scars, nor any signs of the wound at all. It was as if he had not been injured at all. He dejectedly laughed to himself. “What in Astorrah’s name is happening!?”

While magic was almost close to being omniscient in power, there were always signs of its descent. He also knew it would require a cleric or a priest of respectable standing to fully heal a wound he had with no lingering scars and complications. To encounter one in a place like this was unimaginably unlikely--

He breathed deeply again. “No good. There’s no point in being agitated. At least the wound was healed. It should be a good thing...” Right? he continued in his thought, and proceeded once more with the inspection.

By the end, he found out that he was in an okay state, better even. He felt invigorated, though he had the visage of a corpse. He also felt stronger than ever before, which amazed him. His figure had also transformed; he was more lean and well-built, and could feel his muscles were more toned. He was surprisingly healthy and beamed a soft smile at the discovery, as if he was truly happy that there was finally some non-arguable good news.

Though, the smile only lasted for a few seconds as he reached out for his chest. There, he could see and feel a scar that was not there before. It was a massive gash, as if something of great size had pierced him. If that was the case, he should have died as that was where his heart was, but he could clearly feel it beating vigorously in his chest. He frowned as he grew more confused every passing moment.

He shook his head and moved towards the pool of blood. It was a horrendous sight that incited the imagination of anyone who was not accustomed to violence. He felt squeamish at the sight, but he had no choice but to come near. After a moment of contemplation, the first thing that came to mind was that it was his blood, that had flowed unceasingly while he slept. It seemed plausible but it did not explain the streaks of blood covering the trees. But there was no one here: no corpse or anything that could be responsible for the terrifying amount of blood.

He let out a breath, and said, “Everything is just too bizarre... Nothing makes sense. Might it all be related to the scar on my chest?” he asked as he traced the eye-catching gash. He ended his thoughts, and instead went to repeat the things he just did.

After repeating all the inspections once more to be sure that he did not make any wrong conjectures, he sighed. “I don’t know what happened or who helped me, but at least I’m alive.” He touched the scar on his chest, and said, “Though, I am not sure if this is a blessing or a curse.” Afterwards, he glanced below, and walked to the decrepit tree. He crouched and reached out for a worn-out bag. He shuffled through and fished out some clothes. He proceeded to wear them, and said, “Either way, I’m glad I’m alive.” He equipped his bag.

He then stood near the tree and continued to search one more for anything that could help him in solving his predicament. On the tree, he noticed a deep gash similar to the scar on his chest. He did not know what it entailed, but it was better than nothing.

Around the tree, he could see objects shining under the sunlight. They were metallic in nature, and when he grabbed one for closer inspection, he noted that they were shredded in a way similar to his torn clothes. He tried to examine it if it was a material he was familiar of, but even with his fairly broad knowledge, it was not something he knew. At the very least, it had to be something powerful to shred metal like that.

Just as before, his new discoveries only led him to more questions rather than answers. In the end, the most peculiar thing he discovered was a large helmet near the tree. He noted that it was the same material as the shredded bits scattered around. It also seemed to be ancient and aged, as if it was a relic from the past. With nothing left to do, he decided to keep the helmet and stored it in his bag. If pressed, he could sell the helmet for a remarkable price.

He looked to the sky, and spoke, “The fog disappeared...” He paused as if in deep thought, and continued, “Ever since its discovery, there was no known record of a similar happening. The fog was perpetual, until now. Sadly, with how things are, I might never learn the reason for the fog’s existence.” He retracted his gaze and looked at the trees ahead. He laughed dryly, and said, “On the first day, I was already on death’s door, and my dream had ended before I even started.”

He then strolled off into the trees and behind him was the sun at its peak. “I should head to a town in the mean time. I’ll start over from there. I should find a way in becoming stronger first.” His hand clenched, he said, “I don’t want to experience something like that again.”