Capítulo 3: Do-over
I died to the goblin horde!
My consciousness returns to Castle Everest frozen in time, my body still paralyzed with a dagger in my chest. The warped countenance of my betraying brother continues to edge closer still, letting out a cacophony of otherworldly sound. It continues from the exact position I left it when I previously tried to scream and was reborn. As it descends, it grows more grotesque. Glowing drool drips from his mouth, landing on my face. His neck stretches thin, like the body of a snake or something made of putty.
"What's going on? Was my time as a powerless, little boy a dream? Why am I here again?"
I search through my memory for a spell requiring only my voice, but I never learned this sort of technique. Besides, my mouth is filled with glowing drool. What sort of sound could I make in such a state? The terror increases as the head inches ever closer.
Out of nowhere, a prickling sensation begins at the tip of my ears. It distracts me as it spreads like fire and the numbness lifts from my ears. Soon, the cool, slimy sensation of drool caresses my ears. It drips into them from the sides of my face.
From within the horrible noise arising from the apparition, words that I can understand arise.
["Delicious memories! Let me feast on your delicious memories. Stay! Let me eat!"]
If it bit me, I would forget myself and all my troubles. I would become a different person. It is now a mere inch from my face. But I don't want that.
"Noooo!" I scream.
* * * * *
Once again, my lungs lack air and my scream only allows the muck around my face to enter my mouth. I push myself up and survey my surroundings.
...
Looks like I'll get a do-over with this youth's body… Hmm, this thought would sound wrong out of context.
I rush from the slaughterhouse to the pond and clean myself once again.
This time I'm aware of how vulnerable I really am.
My old capabilities are gone. I can't let myself die again or that thing will eat my memories.
I try my spells and techniques— all still missing or unusable.
Rather than rashly traveling through the hills, my best bet is to camp until dawn at my current location.
Farmers in the countryside typically build slaughterhouses far from their homesteads. Besides the local superstitions about the subject, the smell of blood tends to attract savage beasts and monsters. Even so, the buildings themselves usually have a sanctuary spell protecting them.
The doors are locked, and the shutters boarded up. I manage to find some loose boards on the moonlit side and enter. With only the light of the moon, I am once again longing for my enhanced vision and light creating techniques. Fumbling in the dark, I comb a barely visible tabletop with my hands. I find a broken lantern and a single fire stick.
Perfect. It's almost empty, but it should last an hour if I avoid a draft.
The lantern light reveals a series of racks full of metal hooks and multiple wooden buckets stacked in the corner.
Someone still uses this building.
I examine the wooden walls for spell formations and totems. It's only when I reach the rafters that I find the sanctuary totems.
Hmm, why is this one not in its formation circle? How did it fall over?
I place it back in its proper place and the three totems give off a soft, blue-green glow.
They have a charge!
Although I can't sense the spell as an untrained child, the glow indicates the spell is protecting the building.
Odd. The slaughterhouse isn't an abandoned building, and the totems aren't empty. Why was the sanctuary inactive? Did someone stop it on purpose?
There are fresh, adult-sized footprints made of wet mud on the rafters. It's a clear sign that someone recently came here and knocked this totem over.
What happened to this body before I arrived?
I exit the slaughterhouse, hand shielding the lantern's flame, to examine the tracks in the mud. My own tracks only lead to the pond and back to the house. However, a trail of footprints and two long ruts in the mud show a man and a cart came through here. These large footprints match those found in the rafters.
The history of this body may be unsavory. I'll have to watch my back around the locals. Who came and dumped me here? Did they think I was dead and hoped monsters would eliminate the evidence?
I erase the tracks in the field— lest goblins try to follow them in. After pounding in fresh nails to seal the loose shutters, I enter the rafters and raise the ladder behind me. I take shelter in some sparse hay in the rafters with an old crusty blanket.
I'm unsure if I'll sleep much, but it's better to be in a rested condition for whatever tomorrow might bring.
Goblins, please stay away!
...
PENSAMENTOS DOS CRIADORES 
NitrogenousBeing
NitrogenousBeing The first three chapters are out! I really miss using italics. Please add formatting to inkstone. For now, I'm going out to get some exercise. I'll be back with a new chapter again soon.
Status de energia semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Pedra de
Poder