Restoration Berserker Chapter 2 (Patreon)

AN: Just a reminder that as fanfiction, this is an AU world. I'll be adding my own spin to Danmachi. 

Chapter 2: Restoration

Waking was something Marik could have done without and was thankful to experience. 

He woke to a twinkling sky of stars, pain wracking every inch of his body.

His eyes filled with awe at the sheer majesty of the night, burning with thousands of distant suns and painting an image straight out of an animation.

He was confused and concerned, but those feelings turned to panic and then from panic to realization as everything came rushing back.

Pain only fed his clarity as everything became clear. Almost too clear.

‘I’m dying.’

That was the first thought to pierce through the sudden clarity. A thought accompanied by the fuzzy sound of chimes echoing in his ears.

‘And the choir’s already calling.’

Being on the edge of death without the overwhelming adrenaline and wrath was odd, reflective in a way that Marik couldn’t put into words.

He was only twenty years old, and thoughts of death were a long way away from his mind.

Growing up in an average household as a single child with busy yet loving parents made it so all his focus was on his future. He wanted to make them proud by accomplishing something for himself, so he set the bar high and aimed to enter med school to become a doctor.

No one pressured him into it; it was his choice. It was an empty choice. One where he did it just because the bar was high rather than any true interest in saving lives.

He had no sense of heroism in him, no grand desire to discover a magic cure to solve the world's problems, and no sick relative who inspired him to be something special. It was a selfish choice; he chose it because he could and because it paid well.

He was a simple guy with simple desires: study hard, grab that grand title of doctor, feel proud of himself, buy his own place and car, get a loving wife, start a family—the whole package.

It didn’t fuel him with a fire in his chest, but it was a goal. An empty goal, but a goal nonetheless. He had seen what being aimless did to people, friends from high school he had to leave behind, and he’d rather have an empty goal than none.

He loved his parents, but they taught him that he had to live his own life separate from them to stand on his own feet. It may seem cruel, but he understood it and didn't feel bothered by it. They helped pay for school and would see him on holidays. End of story.

He tried dating, but the load of his classes kept him from having time to commit.

All in all, his days were quiet, busy, and grey.

Fantasy was his outlet. The only true thing to stoke the embers deep inside him as he could momentarily forget his empty path and imagine a colorful life of adventure, fighting, eating, fucking, traveling, and growing stronger without limits.

It was a nice little dream. A dream Marik never would have thought could become reality.

Amusement colored his pain-riddled mind as a single blood-crusted eye cracked open, coming face to face with a monstrous creature straight out of a horror movie, shattering any delusion of things still being a dream.

Marik didn't recoil at the sight but instead felt a chuckle rumble through bloody lungs. 'Took more than an inch, didn't I bud?'

The centipedes' sole remaining dead eye stared back, the other having been pierced through with his mighty weapon hard enough to smash whatever brain lay behind. 'It was a good stone.'

Now that he had a second to think, Marik was oddly amazed the pointy rock had lasted as long as it had. ‘I’ll have to dig it out later. If I survive that long anyway.’

The monster’s corpse was slightly curved around his body, stuck with his back propped up against a broken leg while a part of its weight kept him pinned down.

Thankfully, he could still wiggle his toes, so his legs weren’t crushed, but just doing that simple action sent a wave of agony through him. ‘Oh, those chime sounds got louder.’

Marik had been hearing them faintly since he woke up, thinking it was a side effect of a concussion, but when he tilted a creaky neck down to observe himself, he had to blink at the faintly glowing golden light dancing across his skin. ‘That’s new.’

Almost as if it was made aware of his focus, a warmth spread through his body, not genuinely healing as much as washing away a layer of pain as the sound of chimes grew ever louder.

A groan of pure relief left Marik’s lips as whispered words left his raspy mouth. “Thank you.”

He didn’t know how, who, or what just happened, but the pure gratitude he felt for whatever just took away even a single layer of the agonizing pain he was under wasn’t small.

That desire bore fruit as a glowing silver slate faded into view before Marik’s eye, the other still swollen shut. ‘Isn’t this…’

It didn't take much for him to recognize the first thing he saw when he woke up in the desert. 'I couldn't read it before.' It had been flashing with changing symbols in a language he didn't understand. In his befuddled state, he dismissed it as just another figment of his imagination.

Yet now, with the day he’d had, with the literal reality staring at him with a deceased eye from feet away, Marik was far more accepting of what was real and what was not. ‘If everything else was real, why wouldn’t this be?’

He tried to lift a hand before hissing at the pain and pausing, yet the floating slate seemed to sense his intentions as it flashed, and words began to appear.

[Falna:

-          Name: Marik Grim

-          Alias: N/A

-          Age: 20

-          Level: 1

-          Familia: N/A

Stats:

-          Strength: H150

-          Endurance: H150

-          Dexterity: I50

-          Agility: H150

-          Magic: I80 (40)

Developmental Abilities:

-          Unique: Wrathful Berserker I

-          Restoration Perks I

Magic:

-          Restoration I

Skills:

-          Unique: Identity Slate è Falna Slate

Feats:

-          Dimensional Traveler – Having crossed the boundary, the world identifies you. Grants Unique Skill: Identity Slate.

-          Mortal Ascension – Defeated overwhelming odds as a pure mortal in single combat. Granted Unique Developmental Ability.

-          Blessing of XXX – Having recognized your strength of will, XXX has blessed you with a drop of divine essence, awakening your Falna and granting access to Restoration Magic. Proceed to Orario to discover more.]

Marik read down the status in a mix of curiosity and confusion. The Unique ability took his attention momentarily before it was harshly stolen as his eyes landed on magic.

‘Restoration…. can I actually survive?’

Marik knew he was dying. He didn't know how he had lasted as long as he currently had, but he knew that simple fact. Call it a sixth sense, if you will.

So, the idea that he might actually survive the moment sparked a renewed flame of hope in him. ‘Restoration is supposed to be healing, right? It’s been a while since I played Skyrim, but I know at least that much.’ Marik wasn’t the biggest of gamers, but it was hard to find a guy his age who had yet to try Skyrim once in their life. 'Restoration could heal me without a problem if it's anything like the games. I could survive. I can live.'

The more his thoughts went down that alley, the more the flame burned in him as his will to live spiked.

Ignoring every other question he had, he focused his mind on the title and felt instinctive knowledge flow into his mind as if it had always been there all along.

Four spells. The basic structure. Their base use. And more importantly, how to cast them.

Almost subconsciously, Marik’s good hand pried open, golden light beginning to shimmer and gather, growing in size as he fueled it until a bubble of light formed in his palm.

Trance-like, Marik stared at the thing for a long moment, its light reflecting in his eyes as it tinted them golden.

And then, with a bare expression of intent, the bubble popped, and chimes roared in his ears with golden light washing over his injured body like water.

There was a second of warmth that embraced him before a soul-tearing screech tore its way out of his lungs.

Creaks, cracks, and snaps sickenly rang out as Marik’s body spasmed. Bone shards speared through flesh, ejecting themselves one after another. Cracked bones grew and sealed themselves before returning to their proper place. Cuts steamed as flesh grew back. Burnt skin dried and peeled off, revealing a smooth layer beneath. Black, tainted blood exploded from his lungs, burning like acid on its way out.

Dozens, if not hundreds, of little adjustments, happened all at once throughout his body, causing Marik to feel a fresh wave of agony he was unable to escape from.

The golden glow faded in what felt like years but was truly only seconds, and Marik fell back into blissful unconsciousness.

Yet while his spell healed him enough to push him back from the brink of death, it also jumpstarted his body back into action, his pain receptors firing as the numerous injuries that had previously been dulled started shouting their warnings to his brain.

He wasn’t asleep an hour before the pain woke him up in shock.

With no other choice, he recast the spell, dreading the coming pain as the golden glow washed over him, a familiar roar tearing his lungs apart once more as he rode through it and passed out once more.

He woke to the night sky half a dozen times; six times, he gritted his teeth and recast the spell, his roars lost to the freezing winds of the night. Yet the final time was enough, as everything finally snapped into place, and his body let his weary mind rest.

All the while, a golden-eyed gaze beyond Marik's existence watched on apathetically, a silent glint of approval in its eyes as it turned away in satisfaction.

Chapter End.