"I can't do this."
The words came out as more of a wheeze than actual speech. My father's motivational speech had gotten me all fired up back at the castle, but now? Now I was seriously regretting every life choice that had led me to this moment.
Aethermoor Academy was located in some valley that required a week-long ride to reach. A week. On horseback. My spine felt like it was about to snap in half, and we'd barely been traveling for half a day.
"Right, Big B?" I asked my horse.
The black stallion came to an immediate halt, probably more from the awful nickname than actual exhaustion. I mean, what kind of name was Big B anyway? I should've thought of something cooler, but thinking was hard work.
"Let's just... skip this whole thing," I muttered, patting his neck. "I'm sure someone will pick me up if I get lost. Though Father will probably chew me alive for that..."
I paused, considering. "Wait, that counts as a life-or-death situation, right? He said growth happens in those."
Big B snorted, which I took as agreement.
We'd stopped at a riverbank where the water ran clear and cool. While Big B drank his fill, I dismounted and immediately regretted it when my legs nearly gave out. Everything hurt in ways I didn't know were possible.
I flopped down on the grass beside the river, staring up at the vast expanse of sky. Night was creeping in, painting everything in soft purples and deep blues. The breeze felt nice against my face, carrying the scent of wildflowers and something earthy I couldn't identify.
"What's for dinner?" I asked the sky.
My stomach answered with a loud growl. The only food I had was a week's worth of travel rations that looked like blocks of compressed sadness and probably tasted worse. I'd grabbed them without thinking—well, without thinking was basically my default state.
I rolled onto my side, watching Big B graze nearby. "Really, what's the point of all this?"
Father's words echoed in my head: If you spend your life idle, it's no different from being dead.
"Nah," I said aloud. "Father's the king. I don't need to do all this heavy lifting. Someone else can handle it."
Someone like Lyralei could definitely do it. She had that look—the kind of person who'd probably already conquered half the world before breakfast. Yeah, I was getting married to her anyway, so she could handle all the kingdom management stuff.
"But what if she throws me out?" I mused, picking at the grass. "That sounds like something someone with her personality would do, even if we're married."
Too much thinking. My head was starting to hurt.
"I should probably meet her in person first," I decided. "Though that's also too much work..."
A deep yawn escaped me. "I'll think about it tomorrow."
That's when I felt the first pinch.
"Ow!" I slapped at my neck. A mosquito. Then another. And another.
Within seconds, they were swarming around me like a tiny, bloodthirsty army. The riverbank had turned into a mosquito paradise, and I was the main course.
"Damn it!" I scrambled to my feet, swatting frantically. "There's no safe place to sleep here!"
Fed up, I clapped my hands together, focusing my mana. Fire magic was one of the few things that came naturally to me—probably because it required the least amount of thinking.
Flame Burst.
A controlled explosion of fire erupted around me, incinerating every mosquito within a ten-foot radius. The satisfying crackle and pop of their tiny bodies burning filled the air.
"Ha! That's what you get for disturbing my sleep!"
Then the smell hit me. Burned mosquitoes smelled like someone had set a garbage dump on fire and then decided to make it worse somehow.
I gagged, covering my nose with my sleeve. The acrid smoke made my eyes water, and I could feel the smell clinging to my clothes and hair.
"Damn it, riverbanks suck!" I coughed, stumbling toward Big B. "Let's get out of here and find some actual shelter!"
As we left the riverbank behind, I didn't bother to put out the small grass fire I'd accidentally started. It would probably fizzle out on its own.
Two days passed, and everything had gotten worse.
"This is absolutely terrible," I complained, taking another bite of what the rations claimed was "preserved potato." It tasted like chalk mixed with disappointment. "I'm literally not built for this lifestyle."
Big B had slowed down considerably too. Poor guy was probably as miserable as I was. We'd been sleeping under whatever cover we could find—mostly just trees or rocky outcroppings. My back felt like someone had been using it as a punching bag, and I'm pretty sure I had at least three different rashes from sleeping on the ground.
"It's too late to turn back now," I said, more to convince myself than anything else.
The sun was setting again, painting the sky in brilliant oranges and pinks that would've been beautiful if I wasn't so tired and hungry. The landscape around us had gradually shifted from the familiar territories near home to wilder, less traveled paths.
I pulled Big B to a stop near a cluster of large boulders that might provide some wind protection.
"I'm too tired to do anything else," I announced, sliding off the saddle with all the grace of a sack of potatoes. "Let's try something different tonight."
Big B looked at me with what I swear was sympathy in his dark eyes.
I walked over and wrapped my arms around his neck in a hug. His coat was warm and smelled like horse sweat and leather, but right now it was the most comforting thing in the world.
"Let's sleep together tonight," I said, pressing my face against his side. "I'm so done with this whole adventure thing."
Big B nickered softly, as if he understood. For a moment, everything felt peaceful. The stress of the journey, the pressure from Father, the uncertainty about my future—it all seemed to fade away.
That's when I heard the whistling.
It was sharp and fast, like air being violently pushed out of the way. Multiple sounds, coming from different directions.
"Perfect," I muttered, lifting my head. "Now who's having a party?"
I turned to look for the source of the noise, expecting maybe some birds or—
The impact hit with a wet, explosive sound.
Big B's head simply disappeared in a spray of blood and bone fragments that splattered across my face and chest. The warm, metallic taste filled my mouth as I stared in shock at where my horse's head used to be.
Then the bullets started raining down.
Multiple projectiles tore through the air with deadly precision. I dove behind Big B's now-headless body, using his bulk as cover, but whatever these weapons were, they punched through flesh and bone like it was paper.
More bullets riddled the corpse, sending sprays of blood and gore in every direction. Each impact sent vibrations through the ground, and I could hear the horrible wet sounds of metal tearing through what was left of my only companion.