The slavers dragged what remained of my broken form across the camp, tossing me into what appeared to be an old storage shed. Thick wooden walls rose around me, the only light filtering through barred windows near the ceiling. They left me there on the straw-covered dirt floor, alone with my thoughts and some empty wooden crates. I lay on my back silently, feeling a fierce burning shame from my defeat.

  Hours passed before the door creaked open. Harke stepped inside, carrying another platter loaded with food. He set it beside me and slid down the wall until he sat cross-legged on the ground.

  "I..." His eyes traced over my mangled body. "I don't understand how you're still alive. These injuries; they should be f-f-fatal."

  I remained silent, knowing my attempts at speech would only cause him pain.

  "I t-tried healing you earlier, but my magic had no effect. It's like..." He paused, brow furrowed. "It's like your flesh rejected it completely. And your eyes, or lack of them. How can you even s-see?"

  I attempted to shrug, the motion awkward with only one shoulder. The question had occurred to me as well, but like so much else about my existence, I had no answer. My status screen told me Mind Sight was responsible for the ability to see, but that didn't really explain much.

  "The others have started calling you No Eyes," Harke said softly. "Both the guards and the prisoners in the pens."

  Another attempted shrug. The people here could call me whatever they wanted. It's not like I knew what my true name was, anyways.

  As if in response to Harke's words, a familiar blue box materialized before my vision:

  I opened my status box, noting that "Unnamed" had indeed been replaced with "No Eyes" in my designation.

  Harke shifted uncomfortably on the dirt floor. "F-f-fighting Chanos was... well, it wasn't very s-smart. He's level eleven."

  I tilted my head, curious. So Chanos was level 11, and I wondered about the difference in our levels. Five levels didn't seem insurmountable, yet he thrashed me so easily.

  "He's an Axeman class." Harke traced patterns in the dirt. "One of the basic battle classes, sure, but he's still a lot stronger than anyone else here."

  My confusion must have shown in my body language, as Harke's eyes widened. "You don't know about classes?"

  I shook my head.

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  "R-right, your status screen probably looks different than ours." He pulled his knees to his chest. "At level five, humans get to choose a c-c-class based on what they're good at. Like me, I studied the healing arts, so I became a Healer. Warriors get combat classes, those who use axes become Axemen. People who choose to craft become Smiths, Bakers, and such. It makes all of us better suited to those r-roles. Stronger even, in the case of c-combat classes."

  The blue status box still hovered in my vision. I scanned through the categories again, finding no mention of class designation. Something cold settled in my chest.

  "You're looking at your screen now, aren't you?" Harke's voice was soft. "No c-class category?"

  I nodded.

  "The System... it t-t-treats monsters differently. Even intelligent ones like yourself." He picked at a loose thread on his robe. "You don't get classes. Just your basic abilities and attributes."

  My fingers dug into the dirt. The System gave humans additional power through specialization, while denying the same to intelligent monsters? The unfairness of it burned. The System seemed designed to keep monsters, all monsters, at a disadvantage. But then again, perhaps that was a good thing. Regular monsters were mindless killers, after all. If they had classes on top of their bestial strength, then it would be very bad for innocent people.

  "N-not to worry though," Harke continued. "Humans may get classes, but monsters, even intelligent ones, level up much quicker than we do. I've heard some scholars say that some species can gain levels twice as fast as a regular human."

  I grunted. I suppose that was the silver lining in my cloud.

  Harke's eyes narrowed as he studied me. "Your stats must be i-i-interesting. I mean, you're obviously s-s-severely injured, yet you don't seem to be in pain. A-and these abilities..." He tapped his chin. "The way you move and react; it's like you can s-see perfectly fine without eyes. Maybe you sense vibrations? Like a bat using s-sound waves?"

  I watched him, fascinated by the way his mind worked through the puzzle of my existence.

  "Or perhaps it's something else entirely. A m-mental ability?" He leaned forward. "I've read about monsters and other creatures who could perceive the world through pure thought alone."

  My status screen still hovered before me, and I focused on the Mind Sight ability listed there. He wasn't far off; I did indeed see through some form of mental perception. The ability allowed me to see in a 180-degree arc, perceiving depth and distance as clearly as if I had eyes.

  Harke continued muttering to himself, lost in theories and possibilities. "If you can see with your mind, w-what else might you be capable of? There could be other mental abilities we don't even know about..."

  His words sparked something in my thoughts. He was right, if I could see without eyes, perhaps there were other ways to overcome my body's limitations. My cursed voice prevented speech, but what if I could bypass my ruined throat entirely? If Mind Sight allowed me to perceive the world through thought alone, could I not also communicate the same way?

  The possibility excited me. All this time I'd assumed my inability to speak was absolute, but perhaps I'd simply been approaching the problem wrong. Instead of trying to force sound through my cursed throat, maybe I needed to find another path entirely.

  I focused inward, trying to gather my thoughts into something coherent I could project outward.

  Nothing happened. Harke continued his musings about mental abilities, unaware of my attempts.

  I tried again, concentrating harder. Still nothing. But the concept felt right, like attempting to flex a muscle I'd never used before. I knew it should work, even if I couldn't quite manage it yet.

  Minutes passed as I experimented, testing different mental approaches. Finally, frustrated by my inability to communicate, I pushed that feeling outward with all my strength: my anger at being voiceless, my desperate need to speak.

  Harke jerked back, hands flying to his temples. "Agh!" He squeezed his eyes shut. "W-what was... did you just...?"

  I tilted my head, watching his reaction with interest.

  "It was like... images and words and feelings all mixed together." He massaged his forehead. "Like someone shouting in my m-mind, but with pictures too. Was that you?"

  Encouraged by his response, I focused again. This time I concentrated on a single word, trying to keep the projection simple and clear.

  Hello.

  Harke's eyes went wide. "I heard that! Someone just whispered 'hello' in my head!" He stared at me. "It was you, wasn't it?"

  A blue status box materialized:

  I smiled up at Harke, my jagged teeth glinting in the dim light of the shed. He flinched back, pressing against the wall.

  "Please don't do that again." He held up his hands. "Those teeth are... unsettling."

  The absurdity of the situation struck me. Here I was, a broken monster in a shed, finally able to communicate, and the first thing I do is terrify the one person trying to help me. A sound bubbled up from my ruined throat; not the usual painful shriek, but something musical, like wind chimes in a storm. I was laughing.

  After a moment, Harke's expression softened and he joined in, his normal human laughter mixing with my otherworldly chimes.

  When our mirth subsided, I gathered my thoughts carefully. The Mind Speech ability was new, and projecting words took concentration.

  Hello, I sent first, keeping it simple. Then: Good. A pause while I focused. Meet you.

  I raised my remaining hand toward him. It was a human gesture I somehow remembered, though I couldn't recall where exactly I had learned it.

  "It's nice to finally hear your voice," Harke said, reaching out to grasp my pale fingers. "Even if it is all in my head." He gave my hand a firm shake, and for the first time since awakening in that desolate field, I felt a connection to another living being.