Wielder of The Demonic Flame (3)
"But I won't last much longer… I have to escape… I have to get out of this body of water," I muttered, looking up. Darkness. Straight darkness. It was abysmally demoralizing yet I had no choice but to suck it up and lay on the grass patch.
A day passed. Two days passed. Three days passed. Slowly, I was gathering my stamina. I needed just enough to be able to spread my senses thin, allowing me to form an almost string-like tool made of my own skills that can hopefully reach the surface.
On the tenth day, I sat in the middle of the grass patch and closed my eyes. My body almost instinctively went into a meditative state and began to circulate mana, but just before that could happen I snapped myself out of it. I then gripped my hands into two tight fists, balled them up, and set them easy in my lap.