CHAPTER 191: DREAM OF A GODDESS AND A JOURNEY

Darkness.

Again.

Infinite darkness.

But this time... warm. Quiet. Weightless.

Kai floated, bodiless, adrift in something that wasn’t quite air or water or shadow. He blinked—though he had no eyes—and found himself in a pale expanse. There was no ground beneath him, but he stood. No sky above him, but he breathed.

A voice came like silk unraveling in his mind.

"You idiot."

Kai turned.

There she was.

Long obsidian hair, skin like bronze firelight, eyes shimmering with galaxies. Demeris. The goddess who had thrown his soul into this world with a laugh and a promise.

She looked disappointed. No... she looked tired.

"You’re supposed to be clever," she said, crossing her arms. "I gave you everything. Freedom. Power. A second chance. And what do you do?"

Kai narrowed his eyes, confused. "I... died, didn’t I?"

She raised a brow.

"You’d know if you died. This isn’t the place I take you when you’ve bled your last drop. You’re just mostly dead. There’s a difference."

Kai sat. Or maybe the space shaped itself to let him feel like he sat. His limbs ached, though he had none. The echo of pain from the fight still lingered in his thoughts.

"You could have left the country," she said gently. "Taken your girl. Crossed the borders. Avoided the arena. Grim wasn’t meant to be your opponent. You chose to climb that hill."

He closed his eyes, sighing through his teeth. "I had to. If I ran now, I’d always be running. I had to see if I could win."

"You couldn’t."

"I almost did."

Demeris chuckled softly. "True, perhaps. You’re stubborn. And stupid. And yet..."

She crouched, lowering herself to his eye level. Her voice grew softer. Kinder.

"...you’ve come so far."

Kai looked at her. "Why are you here? I thought the gods weren’t letting you intervene? They were coming after you."

"I eluded the others," she said simply, "just for a moment. This little crack between your life and death, it’s a perfect space for whispers."

Kai hesitated, then asked, "What do you want from me?"

Demeris stood, her cloak swirling around her like dancing smoke. "To keep going. To hold your course. You’re heading to Mirth? Good. Then to Sala? Even better. But listen carefully..."

She turned her head and met his gaze again. This time, her tone was stern.

"Do not use necromancy until you reach the coast. Or at the earliest, on the way there. You’ve drawn too much attention. Gods and kings may ignore you once—but not forever."

"Understood," he said, swallowing back the ache in his throat. "You’re congratulating me?"

"I’m acknowledging your effort, Kai. You’ve clawed your way through more pain and sacrifice than most mortals ever will. You’re learning. But don’t think for a second this means you’re ready for what comes next."

"What does come next?" he asked.

Demeris gave a wistful smile. "Ah... now that would be a spoiler."

The light around her pulsed.

"Time to wake up."

"Why?"

Her smile faded. "Because they’re waiting."

The world spun out of view, and he was blinded by lamplight.

Kai gasped, his lungs rattling with effort.

Light stabbed through his eyes as he blinked awake, the dry sting of healing magic and natural recovery battling over control of his body. His entire frame ached. Bandages. Splints. Cooling enchantments.

He shifted. Pain shot through his arms—snapped bones, still mending.

"Kai...?"

He turned his head slowly.

Vepice sat beside his bed, eyes red and puffy. She clutched his hand gently, as if afraid he’d turn to ash in her grasp.

Then the others came into focus.

Willam, wringing his hands by the window.

Naia, arms crossed, fighting tears.

Kleo, fidgeting at the edge of the bed, trying to hide how much she cared.

Firra, standing at attention like a soldier guarding her commander.

They all knew.

"How...?" Kai croaked.

"We knew you’d be here," Firra said. "The prince didn’t stop us."

"The prince saw your final moments in the fight," Willam added. "He knew you were no ordinary competitor. And from the look on his face... he doesn’t care who you are."

Kai blinked, trying to process it.

"He knows what you did. What you really did," Vepice whispered. "To the king. And to the system. And..."

She paused. Then smiled sadly.

"He let it go."

Kai laid back. "Huh."

The silence stretched for a moment.

"You’ve been unconscious for two days," Naia finally said. "We didn’t know if you’d wake up."

"Grim won the tournament," Kleo muttered. "Didn’t even take the trophy. Just walked out like none of it mattered."

Kai nodded. "That sounds like him."

Another silence. Then Kai’s voice cut through it.

"...We need to get going."

Every one of them reacted at once.

"No—" "You’re still recovering—" "Absolutely not—" "You idiot, we just got you back—"

Kai raised a hand, though it trembled.

"I know what I’m doing. We don’t have time. We have to go to Mirth. Now."

They fell silent again, the resistance fading into reluctant resolve.

"You’re sure?" Vepice asked, quietly.

He nodded.

"I’m on the right path."

---

Certainly! Here’s the full Chapter, expanded and fleshed out, featuring Kai and Vepice preparing to leave for Mirth, buying a wagon and horses, and setting off on their journey — with mood, dialogue, and some emotional undercurrents as they head toward the danger of Kai’s undead master.

---

The city of Forne was still buzzing with the aftermath of the Arena of Kings. Banners fluttered in the warm morning breeze, and chatter about Grim’s victory echoed from every inn and alleyway. But none of that mattered to Kai anymore.

He stood near the southern gates with Vepice at his side, a folded parchment in one hand and a coin pouch in the other. He hadn’t said much that morning, and Vepice, picking up on his mood, kept her questions to a minimum. She only watched him, always watching him. He knew it wasn’t because she didn’t trust him. It was something else. Worry, maybe. Love, possibly.

They stood in front of a stableyard where a trader leaned against a fencepost, chewing on a piece of straw. Two wagons were parked beside him — one old and rickety, the other sleek and polished with reinforced wheels, leather-padded benches, and even a small protective awning. A sign above the better one read: "Travel in Style! 240 Gold."

Kai looked to Vepice. "You like the fancy one?"

She blinked. "It has cushions. And a roof. I think my opinion is obvious."

Kai smirked and pulled the pouch from his belt. He handed the coin to the trader without much ceremony.

The man took it with an arched brow. "No haggling?"

"No time."

He nodded and motioned to two healthy chestnut mares hitched nearby. "They come with the wagon. Names are Rose and Rue. Strong, well-fed, and smart enough to piss on anyone who tries to steal from you."

Kai raised a brow. "Good."

They climbed into the wagon, Vepice running her fingers along the trim of the seat. "This feels... surreal. We’re just leaving the city like that?"

"I’ve said my goodbyes," Kai muttered, pulling the reins. "The tournament was never the endgame."

They passed through the gates before midday. The guards nodded to Kai with something close to reverence. His illusion still held — the image of Alex Trunsdale, hero of the arena. But every step the horses took carried him further away from the person he pretended to be, and closer to the monster who had raised him in the art of undeath.

---

The city of Forne grew smaller behind them with each clattering turn of the wheels. For the first time in a long while, Kai and Vepice weren’t rushing toward violence or clawing for survival.

They were simply... moving forward.

Their wagon creaked gently as it rolled through winding roads, past golden fields and distant farmsteads. The first few days were almost serene. Kai spent hours adjusting the sigils he’d carved into his cloak and boots, fine-tuning the flow of mana. Vepice sat across from him with her legs folded, humming softly and sketching a wild hare as it darted through a wheat field. The breeze caught her hair often, and she didn’t seem to mind.

---

On the third day, they came across a caravan stopped near a shallow river. Several tents had already been erected, and the scent of roasted root vegetables and spiced meats drifted through the air. The campfires crackled under the setting sun.

Kai would’ve passed them without a word, but Vepice leaned out the wagon and waved.

"Do you think we can stop and rest here for a bit?" she asked.

Kai looked over the travelers. About twenty people. A few guards. No clerics, no paladins. Just regular people. "Alright. But let me do the talking."

They were welcomed warmly—perhaps too warmly. A large woman with a crooked smile and flour-dusted apron offered them bowls of stew. "We don’t see many wagons this well-made coming through the Low Pass," she said. "Most folk that rich stick to the trade roads."

"We like the quiet," Kai said simply, his voice flat and neutral.

A few guards joined them around the fire, swapping stories of ghost sightings, highwaymen, and an eccentric prince who apparently walked among the people in disguise.

"So what do you do?" a young man asked Vepice between bites.

She hesitated. "I sketch things. Paint, sometimes. And I travel with him."

"With a bodyguard?" the man asked, glancing at Kai.

Vepice smiled. "With my idiot."

Kai pretended to scowl.

They slept near the caravan that night. Kai didn’t trust them, of course. He placed shadow barriers that would alert him to anyone approaching in their sleep.

Just in case.

---

The week passed in a rhythm of hooves and wheels, soft conversation and quiet meals. Sometimes they talked about nothing—how cloud shapes resembled animals, or which cities had the best food. Other times, their conversations danced on edges too sharp to name.

Vepice began learning how to inscribe basic sigils under Kai’s guidance. He helped her shape her mana flow, firm and steady like a quill pressed to parchment.

"You’re good at this," Kai said one morning as she completed her third successful absorption loop on a practice cloth.

"I have a good teacher," she replied, brushing his hand with her fingers.

The moment lingered. And then Kai looked away.

"We’ll need to get you to check out your specialisation, to see what you’re best at, but I’ll continue teaching you what I can."

She beamed at him.

He turned away.

She had quite the effect on him.