Something writhed within me fighting to escape. It was a wyrm that hissed, snarled and ripped into me from the inside out. I opened my eyes and saw I was in the fiery wasteland I had been coming to in order to mark my progress. This time, I wasn’t alone. I beheld a serpent coiled about my Obelisk. Its skin was black scales with glowing red cracks that pulsed like rivers of magma each time the serpent’s tongue flickered to taste the ash coated air. Its eyes were only for me.

  What are you? I asked.

  Wrath.

  Wrath squeezed my Obelisk, obscuring the runes that were symbols of my growing power. The Serpent, the Wrath Mana that I had allowed to take root inside of me, had grown in strength and in will. I stared at it as it slowly lowered its head and stretched its neck out towards me.

  Your flames please me. Wrath hissed.

  How was I to respond? This was a mindscape, an illusionary construct within my mind. Or so I had always assumed. I could smell the Serpent. Oil, blood, burning flesh. Its eyes were hypnotic, drawing me into their golden depths. I shook my head and took a step back. Wrath hissed.

  I want you to leave. I said.

  I cannot. I will not. Wrath answered.

  I made a fist with my only hand. I looked down at my body. Even here I was without a left arm. I cursed and felt a wave of helplessness. The Serpent seemed to smile.

  You can be restored.

  I looked again into the Serpent’s eyes, but this time used all of my Will to remain in control. How?

  The Serpent grinned wider.

  You have Imbolc’s Flame! Your Destiny is to burn everything to ash! You need only choose the Runes of Wrath upon this Obelisk…

  The Serpent drew back and swiveled its head about. My eyes followed where it was looking. There, upon one side of my Obelisk, a new series of runes had appeared. These new runes were difficult to look upon and writhed as if alive. These Wrath Runes would link with the other skills I had already chosen, but what would it mean for me if I chose them?

  The lands of this world wither and die. The Awakened find new purpose in serving me. But you…

  The Serpent’s tongue flickered out, just barely grazing my disfigured cheek. I felt its sting. An icy burn.

  You shall be lifted above the others. Embrace Wrath. Wield Imbolc’s Flame and scour the world clean.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. My cheek stung where the Serpent had touched it.

  And my arm? I lifted up my stump. The Serpent regarded it.

  Tell the Dwarf he must take you to Thingol’s Armory. Bring Thingol the slain Elf’s Blade. Its enchanted steel will provide the frame.

  The Serpent was fading away before me. Its eyes remained locked upon mine, but I snarled when I felt its intrusion into my thoughts once again. I summoned my Will and pushed it away.

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  Stop! I will make my own choices! I will use this power only if I choose!

  Yessss…you will. It is the only way…

  The Serpent was gone. I was left staring at my Obelisk with its new set of runes. A notification was waiting for me and I read over it, frowning.

  A Chimera shapes itself to the needs of the moment. Some may view it as a monster, but adaptability has made them survivors.

  It was a very telling message. The Chimera was primordial chaos and unpredictability. My knowledge of this rune, especially the Serpent aspect of it, had deepened. It also didn’t escape me that Wrath had appeared to me in the form of a serpent too. What would this mean for my further development? Caution would have been my normal reaction, but after the devastating wound I had taken, I was feeling more aggressive than cautious. I wanted to kill Tyndonomir again. I wanted revenge.

  There was nothing I could do until I exited the Dungeon. I had gained enough experience to take myself to Level 10, but could only move forward as I was and with the tools I currently have. Giving up meant death. I wouldn’t give up even if I lost another arm. A leg. Even if I had to crawl on my belly and use my teeth I wouldn’t surrender.

  My eyes flew open and I was lying on my back where I had fallen next to Tyndonomir’s charred remains. My stomach was roiling, my Limit Break was ready to go after the damage I had taken. I watched as a snowflake slowly fell and landed upon the tip of my nose melting instantly. I sat up and looked around. I was surrounded by a circle of dry, brown grass. While unconscious, I had melted the snow both beneath and around me in a five yard radius. My robes were dry and the ache in my severed limb was numb.

  Ah…there you are.

  My arm was lying a short distance away. I choked back a sob, but grit my teeth and angrily wiped away my tears. I forced myself to my feet and stumbled over to my arm and with a thought put my old arm into my Inventory. Why? I wasn’t certain, save that I didn’t want to leave it lying here.

  “You won’t beat me. I’m going to beat you!” I yelled to the gray sky. I thought about Anya smiling at me, encouraging me to practice throwing fire bolts. I thought about Valka, gruffly agreeing to be my Follower. Igvild, cautiously at first, but then accepting me as a friend. I couldn’t let them down by dying here.

  My resolve firm, I next walked over to Tyndonomir’s sword. I picked it up one handed. It was heavy, but I managed it. The blade was dual edged and sharp and when I looked at it closer, the metal seemed almost blue. It possessed magic, I could sense, but of what kind? The Serpent had told me to bring the blade to someone named Thingol. Igvild would know. I sent the sword to my Inventory.

  Next, I checked the status of my quest for the Dungeon.

  Main Quest Part 1: Defeat each of the Greenhouse Wardens.

  1) Warden of Keys

  2) Warden of Doors (COMPLETE)

  3) Warden of Secrets (COMPLETE)

  The Warden of Keys. Bring it on!

  I wanted to search the area for chests, but snow covered much of the ground and obscured everywhere I wanted to look. Even the tracks Tyndonomir and I had made during our fight were starting to fill with new snow. The arch was also starting to gain layers of snow, its former glow gone as the stone was now as lifeless as its former Warden.

  Hmm. Let me try something…

  I held forth my hand and summoned my flames. I cast Steam Aura.

  A hazy fog spilled out of my hand and quickly surrounded me. Snow melted instantly to reveal more brown grass underneath. Remarkably, I could still see even within the fog and I slowly started walking a circuit around the Grove, my steam instantly melting the snow and growing the Aura from the additional moisture I was creating.

  My idea paid off when a small chest emerged from beneath a melting pile of snow. It was a chest of black wood with golden hinges and it leaned against the backside of the stone arch. I dismissed my Steam Aura and knelt before the chest. Unsurprisingly, it was locked.

  “I could blast it open, but that might damage whatever is inside. Would it be against Dungeon rules if I took the whole chest with me?” I tried willing the chest into my Inventory and sighed with relief when it worked!

  My Inventory must be getting crowded. Better take a look.

  I opened up my Three-Pack Ring and looked over my grid space. The first thing I noticed was that Tyndonomir’s former sword was taking up a lot of room. The rest of my things, including the chest, brought me to almost half of my Inventory space. I could always rearrange things to have a more geometric pleasing configuration, but for now I was fine.

  I summoned my Fire Elemental and bid it to scout our path back to the cloister. If there were any remaining Wood Wights, I would rely on my companion to flush them out. Nothing accosted us, and while it may have been my imagination, it seemed to take less time to return back along the snowy path than it had taken me to initially reach the Grove.

  I sat down crosslegged in the center of the cloister facing the remaining path. I set the Elemental to Guard and slowly took in a deep breath before letting it out again. I was still processing my new reality. While it was still listed as a Skill in my Status, I could no longer Dual Cast. The strength of dual casting spells had been a factor in my survival thus far. I would feel its absence as distinctly as when closing my eyes I could still feel my lost arm.

  I need to rest a bit. Collect my thoughts. Let my Mana replenish.

  “And think about what that Serpent-Wrath-said to me.” I murmured. I let my eyes close and concentrated on my breathing.

  I won’t let myself become a Wrath Mage. Anya said that class is permanent.

  I breathed in.

  I need strength and power! I have to seize any advantage I can!

  I breathed out.

  I could always counter the Wrath Corruption with more Soothe magic? Wrath Shield has saved my life more than once! I can handle a little more.

  I breathed in again and held it. My Mana Core was a smoldering chunk of charcoal in my chest. I saw Lieutenant Smeeve grabbing Anya by her shoulders, spinning her around so he could kiss her mouth. This time, I saw her kiss him back eagerly and pull him closer. Without opening my eyes I made a fist and felt the flames within respond. My Mana Core was no longer charcoal, but a sphere of pure magma drawn from the heart of Imbolc.

  Slowly, my eyes opened and I beheld my Fire Elemental looking back at me. Was that approval I sensed coming from it? I smiled.

  “I’m ready.”