My vision had not returned when I got up. If it were blackness, I think I could handle it. But just a complete absence was a constant reminder of what was stolen from me. However, my blood had finally died down enough to where I could make out voices. I did not pay any attention to what they were saying, rather simply noticed they stopped as I rose.

“Vee?” A soft, but familiar voice hesitantly asked. “How are you doing Vee?”

I tried to focus on where the noise was coming from, but it was difficult. There was a minor echo to the cave that I did not notice before. Instead, I remembered something I heard where blind people position their ears toward the noise, and I attempted to copy that.

A rustling sound helped guide me towards the movement. I attempted to back away, only to find something large and cold against my back. My actions seemed to halt whoever was coming towards me as I did not hear any other movement.

“Vee,” A male voice began, must have been Bastar. “Do you know where you are?”

“In a cave in a new land with a bunch of freaks who will gladly beat me.” I spat out.

“Vee,” The soft voice again. I assumed it was Heather. “That’s not true.”

“Yeah, I suppose that is. Kwah just said there was something wrong with me. Rest of you can go jump off a cliff.”

The movement began again and I reacted. Since I did not know where it would come from, I did not bother trying to dodge. Instead, I imagined a layer of mana being pushed out of my skin. I imagine it being perfectly smooth, with nothing that would allow others to gain purchase on. My so-called training might have been basic, but this was easy enough.

I felt contact with my mana skin. It did not feel like when people normally touch. Instead of a general pressure or a light breeze, this was a mold. My new skin deformed to the hand, allowing me to know it. I could not see it, not really, but it felt like I was truly seeing it for the first time. How the ridges of the skin were bark-like. How there was a pulse through the entirety of it, not through sections like veins or arteries. The dirt under the fingernails and the folds of the joints was perfectly apparent to me.

I kept that hand away from my body. I felt it leave and its impression left with it. The hand was joined by its twin, both probing my new defense. I closed my eyelids, even if there were no eyes to protect, in case if my new shell did not extend to my wounds. And I waited.

“Vee, can you let me touch you?” Heather asked. I just waited.

“Vee, let her heal you,” Bastar commanded. I still waited.

The pair of hands was joined by another, all four looking for a spot. One hand tried to grab my arm, but I could slide it relatively freely. I could not pull my arm out, due to my hand being larger than my wrist, but the person, I am guessing Bastar, also could not effectively pull me.

Someone, guessing Heather, tried to slap me and I found a secondary benefit to my new self. I did not mean for it to be malleable, but since that was the case the force of the blow was absorbed and propagated through the rest of my new mana suit. My head was still jerked to the side, seeing as I could not prevent all the force. But the fact I could dilute some of it put a smile on my face.

Bastar, probably, tried to pull me. I let my mana sink into the stone, like pinions, halting any motion. They remained there while he alternated between pushing and pulling. When I felt arms try to get under my arms, I squirmed to the side. I was not going to let them try to lift me and hoped I remained anchored.

Soon the rest of the group tried to help. I do not know what their plans were, as I ignored them to focus on maintaining my mana suit. I will admit, I was getting pretty cocky, feeling like they could not do anything to me. That was until a blade began to cut my new suit.

I was in a compromising position. My arms were being sat on, but I knew I could get them free if I needed to. My legs were free, but since I only really fought when they tried to force me to move, it was considered fine. It was like that when I felt my mana suit begin to split. A blade made of mana, like mine only different, moved cleanly through the first layer. During the action I had been refining my suit to be like a second skin, complete with three layers. I do not know what was involved in the three layers, I just knew skin had three layers so my new suit would have three layers too.

There was no pain as the blade entered. Just an academic knowledge of what was happening and where. Mana, in the shape of a trapezoid with one edge as thin as possible, was being pressed and inserted into my defense.

I kicked at where I thought the person was, unsuccessfully it. Something prevented the movement above my legs. It was not touching me, but when I touched it, I rebounded off it. I tried to pull my arms free and succeeded, for a moment. Whatever they did to trap my legs they quickly implemented over the rest of my body. I tried to thrash, to break free, but my new prison just bounced me back to the floor.

Panic threatened me. First, they took my eyes. Now they were going for more. I tried to control my breathing, look at the positives. My frenetic motion caused the blade wielder to back off. That was the positive. Otherwise, I was screwed.

A thought pushed forward, from the back of my mind. A rough memory of another time when I felt helpless and pinned down. Only on that occasion I was not literally helpless and pinned down. It was more life choices that made me feel that way.

I remembered what got me through it, what kept me going. A gong rang through my mind as the words I had not thought of in years came back to me. Accept. Adapt. Overcome. Accept. I was pinned down by people strong then me and blinded. Adapt. I needed to see. While I knew, given time, I would learn how to live without sight, that was not going to help me now. And I could not overcome without adapting first.

So, I tried to adapt. I made my mana suit smooth, time to make it rough. I thought of the top of it turning to glue or mud and I thrust my arms up. They still bounced back down, and someone sat on my chest. I focused more, thinking on a fly trap, and tried again. They remained for a short while, as the blade worked its way around my face. I both wanted to jerk my face and hold still, seeing as if I moved wrong, I might no longer move. I thought of the stickiest substance I knew of, a substance from a dumb movie I watched growing up, cementia. This time my arms caught, and I found out you can forcibly remove a person’s mana.

I felt my second face peel from my skin. That broke all my images. My arms fell to my side, I loss perfect knowledge of the ass on my chest, and I tried to scream some more. I failed the last bit, only because I had not paid attention to how hoarse my voice was from last time. Hands slapped themselves over my ruined eyes and I collapsed as something penetrated my sockets.

I felt my energy slip away and I fought every minute of it. Serenity made itself known and I threw anger and hate at it. Nothing I did could prevent the dreamless sleep I was being put under. It was as certain as water running downhill. Instead, I pulled forth my three words. I would need them soon. I have accepted my loss, but not what I have gained. I would need to adapt to this world so that I can overcome it. And maybe, get a little payback for this pain.