chapter 64- Finding myself

I looked around me. I was swinging, caught in a web cocoon. My eyes peered through the gaps between the web sack to search the surroundings. The dead bodies of spiders lay scattered. Yet some of them seemed to be sliced in the middle. It wasn't my work or any of my gang's.

Then the memories of being sliced open came rushing back, shocking my body. I was still alive. That thing had poisoned me with its blade and made me fall into an illusion. Of course, I had adapted somehow.

But I needed to focus on the others. I spun around to search for my friends and saw two white, web-like sacks in the air.

They would still be trapped in their sweet dreams. This was bad. Were we about to be dinner for this spider? I then felt something tug on the string that was weighing me down.

Shit, a spider was crawling towards me. It was going to eat me.

I felt what seemed like eight long legs wrap around my body, as the spider slowly came face-to-face with me, staring into the gaps I was using.

It looked hungry.

Its mouth opened, green liquid drooling upside down onto the ground. Shit. I needed to move. I summoned my weapon, which was only a hilt. The best thing about my weapon was that I was the forger, so I could create anything using the hilt as the base.

The spider's eyes widened in shock as it looked down to see I had stabbed the center of it with my blade, heat emitting off it, burning not only the spider but the webs trapping me. When it fell to the ground, one was dead and the other still alive, which was me, of course.

I quickly fled to hide among the rocks, as I did before. I had to release James and Max, but if that huntsman was hiding somewhere, then the situation could escalate to the worst-case scenario.

I waited and waited, no sound, no other spider came. I scanned the area, no sign of any other life forms.

Okay, that was good. This was an opportunity I could use. I looked up to see the hanging webbed-up forms of my friends.

A ladder? Maybe throw a sharp object at the thread holding the boys, then catch them below? It sounded reasonable on paper, but the risk was too much.

As I kept thinking of a plan, that sudden dread of being watched, being hunted, it came over me. My feet shook with fear.

The winds inside the cavern seemed to move and flow towards my direction. It was coming again. I didn't know what to do. If I got caught again, then it's game over. My friends would be chewed alive, and I would be the cause. I am too weak, too dumb. I'm not good enough, not in this situation.

I faced towards the winds, my body forming armor out of thin air - plate and helm, shield and sword. But was it enough?

The glint of light in the darkness, traveling speed faster than thought. My reaction could not compare as it came. I was knocked back, blood gushing from my chest. If only I could wield and heal, yet it always felt like my body refused that power, the only ability I couldn't harness.

Forging of the Heart 

Description: As the Crimson Smith, you have replaced your heart with the core of a volcano, granting the power and vigor of an erupting volcano. Heal wounds, replace limbs, and reforge one's body like legendary smithing. Your blood liquefies into molten steel, bones tougher than iron, then reforges back into natural skin and bone.

James, when he used his mystic steal, was able to heal, yet even now my body refused to heal every time I focused and wished for it to happen.

I dropped my shield, grabbing my chest. Even after all this, was this the best I could do?Through the eye gaps between my helmet, I watched my hand be covered in my own blood. The thought of losing everything and everyone, after I tried so hard.

No!

No!

I wanted to live as well. I wanted to feel what it's like to be alive. My obsession was my driving force, the concept of wanting to be the best version of myself was an excuse. Why did I want to strive to be the perfect Thomas?

My mind flooded with thoughts back to each moment with James, my family, and friends. Did I want them to see me in my best form because I felt unworthy?

No, I was wrong, oh I was so wrong. I tried so hard because they also tried. I was never selfish, never self-hating, for the simple fact that I didn't need to be. They brought the best out of me, even when I wasn't trying. I wanted to do the same for them, to exchange the same gift they gave me.

Max was right, I wasn't selfish, I was selfless. The people that believed in me were my flames, my light in the darkness, the spark, the push I needed.

The gauntlet hands which were stained with my blood started heating up. My blood was no longer liquid but a burning red flame, different than before. This time it had something to be fueled by.

This is what it meant to be reborn in fire. My body, which was falling moments before, stood tall, regaining my balance, regaining my grip.

My chest wounds closed as they turned hot and felt like my wounds welded themselves shut.

I finally saw. This healing effect was never about the abilities themselves. It was inside, it needed an outlet, but it also needed an anchor, a reason.

I have found it.