Darkness embraced me, pressing in from all sides. A faint sense of familiarity nagged at the edges of my mind, but I brushed it aside, too content to care. There was no pain, no exhaustion–just peace.

  A short nap wouldn’t hurt, right?

  I shut my eyes, letting myself drift in the tranquil void. But the calm didn’t last. My spirit’s voice echoed in my head, clear and chiding.

  “What you did was reckless, my Chosen.”

  I startled, my eyes snapping open. My spirit floated a few feet away, her form still cloaked in radiant light. The echo that had once masked her voice had eased, but displeasure buzzed in every syllable. I winced as my feet settled onto an invisible surface, grounding me in the nothingness.

  Facing her, I forced out a question. “What happened? Everything’s…fuzzy.”

  I tried to piece together my fragmented memories. The firebird flashed in my mind, and something about eggs. Clover kissing me–there was no forgetting that. But afterward? Nothing.

  My spirit’s luminous form seemed to intensify, her gaze heavy. “You faced the basilisk and underestimated it. The beast struck at the child of–”

  Like a detonation, the images slammed into me: Clover, turning to see the monster looming behind her; the terror draining the color from her face. My chest tightened as the memory surged forward.

  I cut my spirit off. “Is she alright?!”

  Her tone softened, though the disappointment remained. “She is safe and healthy, though shaken by your scrape with death.” Her words pressed on me like a weight. “You should have activated Radiant Bastion before leaping into the basilisk’s path.”

  Heat rose to my face as shame pooled in my gut. I dropped my gaze. “You’re right. That would’ve been smarter. I just…didn’t have time to think.”

  The truth stung. I’d been so caught up in protecting Clover that I’d acted without thought, assuming the beast was finished after her lance struck–a dangerous oversight. I’d survived patrols back home, but this quest was on another level. The stakes were higher. My mistakes could get me killed–or worse, cost someone else their life.

  Memories of Daedra’s tear-filled eyes hit me like a hammer, stealing the breath from my lungs. I almost died, leaving them without support or even a letter, all because of my own recklessness.

  I’d promised to come back to them. I couldn’t keep that promise if I wasn’t careful.

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  “I’ll do better,” I said, my voice low but resolute.

  My spirit’s presence eased, her light gentler now. “Good. When you return, discuss leveling your Perception and Wisdom with the cleric. These stats are essential for battle strategy. Increasing them will prevent mistakes like today.”

  I nodded, the promise solidifying in my mind. “I’ll do that. And…thank you for saving me.”

  But she shook her head. “I am no healer. Your cleric deserves your gratitude.”

  A pang of guilt tightened in my chest. She’d saved my hide again. I swallowed hard, vividly remembering her anger.

  I was in for an earful when I got back, wasn’t I?

  My spirit confirmed it with a nod. “You are indeed. She was distraught at your mortal wound and her initial inability to heal it.”

  I frowned. “Why couldn’t she heal it?”

  The bite had been severe, but it wasn’t near my heart. The poison had been the real threat, though Clover should’ve been able to counter it with Cure.

  Right?

  My spirit’s glow dimmed slightly. “The basilisk’s poison, like its scales, resists magic. Your cleric struck a deal with the phoenix to neutralize it. In exchange, she removed the eggs from the basilisk.”

  The weight of her words settled on me like a lead cloak. Guilt sharpened its edge–Clover hated snakes. And yet, she’d done that for me.

  “I owe her, big time,” I murmured.

  “You do,” my spirit said, her tone firm. “Remember this when you face similar situations. Until you acquire strategic skills, focus on raising your Wisdom and Perception.”

  I nodded again, a plan forming. That’d be the first thing I did once I woke up…after apologizing profusely to Clover for inadvertently making her gut a snake.

  The darkness around us began to dissolve, light breaking through. My spirit’s voice grew softer, almost kind. “It is time to wake. Remember this talk and be careful with your life, my Chosen. You have only one, and a phoenix will not always be there to save it.”

  Before I could respond, the void vanished, and the weight of reality crashed down on me. Exhaustion rippled through my body, every muscle aching as if reminding me–yet again–that I was mortal and that I should act like it. I groaned softly, swallowing the sound as I forced my focus outward.

  Clover had set up camp in the basilisk’s chamber. The snake’s massive corpse lay far on the other side, its presence a grim reminder of our fight. A small fire crackled nearby, two rock snakes skewered above it. The faint smell of charred meat wafted through the air, twisting my stomach as memories of poison and pain clawed at the edge of my mind.

  Shoving the unease aside, I frowned. Where was Clover?

  An old, familiar insecurity whispered in my ear: She’s gone. She left you.

  Memories of white hair and proud shoulders walking away turned to gold locks and a slighter frame. I shoved that down too. Clover wasn’t like my mother. She wouldn’t abandon me, especially not while I was injured. She’d given me no reason to believe she would and my insecurities could take a hike.

  She’d kissed me. And even I–in all my dense wonder–knew that meant something.