Tenebris Renasci: A World of Magic and Gunpowder

Looking around his closed and cramped space, Alexander began to get a sense of his surroundings. 

He was trapped in a wooden box of some sort, with his only way of escape being the top. 

He knew this because there was a small gap between the four walls of the wooden box and the top. 

He couldn't see through the gap, but he could feel the faint presence of gentle wind. 

Realizing his only way out, Alexander used the knife from earlier and placed its tip between the gap. 

Then, using all the strength he could muster, he began to push the blade deep into the gap, the sound of wood creaking following every push. 

Once the knife blade was deep enough into the gap, Alexander began to push down on the knife handle.

This forced the tip to push upward against the top of the box. 

At first, the top didn't budge, firmly held in place by steel nails.

But as Alexander continued to push with all his might using his head, shoulder, and the knife, the top creaked open. 

A flood of fresh air flooded into the stake crate, breathing new life into Alexander's exhausted lungs. 

Alexander quickly moved to peer outside the widened gap, where he was greeted with a dim moonlight shining down on a vast forest of tall trees that had wide and thick leaves. 

They looked similar to palm trees, just bigger, thicker, and with fewer leaves. 

The ground beneath him was almost completely different from the green grass he was accustomed to. Instead, it was more of a dull orange mixed with patches of sand.

It didn't take long for Alexander to conclude that he was out in the middle of nowhere. 

He sighed deeply as continued to push against the crate top. Though he didn't know where he was, he knew that he'd have a better chance of assessing his situation outside of the crate.

Climbing outside of the crate, Alexander placed both feet firmly onto the ground and was immediately met with a sharp pain shooting through his wounded leg. 

"Gyah!" Alexander shouted in pain as he quickly raised his left leg.

Gritting his teeth in pain Alexander looked down to his wounded thigh. There was a lot of blood but it wasn't gushing out, which Alexander assumed was a good thing.

The wound wasn't too deep either, about an inch and half deep. 

I don't think I hit any arteries or anything, otherwise there'd be a lot more blood.

Though there wasn't much blood, Alexander knew he needed to heal his wound, or at the very least create a tourniquet.

Sighing as he looked away from his thigh, Alexander turned his attention back towards the create he emerged from, while gently setting his leg down. 

Grimacing at the pain of setting his leg down, Alexander glanced into that crate he emerged from. 

It looked smaller now that he stared into it from the outside, and what he saw inside the crate wasn't much. Nothing more than the thin bed of hay and the leather wrap sword that was pressed against his back earlier. 

As he continued to cautiously examine the crate, Alexander began to wonder how he got trapped, and what brought him out this far from the Nova mansion.

Looking at the outside of the crate did give a better picture of events. There were deep grooves and scratches along the bottom corners of the crate, along with a trail in the dirt that led far into the distance. 

Was I dragged here?

Alexander squinted his eyes to see into the far distance, yet he still didn't catch a glimpse of anything more than trees. 

Alexander frowned as the pain in his leg began to flare up, it seemed that standing on it for too long wasn't the greatest thing to do.

He took a deep breath as he leaned against the crate for support, taking pressure off his wounded leg. 

Alexander knew he couldn't stay leaning against the crate forever, as if someone did drag the crate out here then chances were they'd be back.

But with his leg in such a precarious position, Alexander knew he wouldn't be walking far, even if he pushed the pain aside.

That meant that the first order of business was to deal with his wounded leg. 

He had to choose between attempting to heal it with world energy or using the old-fashioned method. 

Both methods had their goods and bad.

Starting with the tourniquet, he would need cloth, which he had in the form of his clothes. A stick, which would be easy enough to find, and lastly he'd need both the strength and stamina to tie it.

The most glaring problem with the tourniquet though, was the fact that Alexander was completely sure how to make one, only that it had to be extremely tight.

On the other hand, Alexander could use world energy and attempt to heal his wound. This method was energy-intensive and required a lot of focus. 

The most glaring problem with using it was that he would exhaust what little strength he had left, and there was a chance the wound wouldn't even heal completely.

Alexander sighed as he slowly shook his head, he could either go slow and inefficient, or fast and reckless. 

As he contemplated what would be best, the forest that surrounded him remained eerily silent. The moonlight barely peeked through the thick canopy of the strange trees that surrounded him. 

The air was dense and humid, and with the smell of damp earth and foliage filling his nostrils, Alexander finally concluded. 

He would go fast and recklessly.

He chose this for several reasons, the most important of which was the fact that he would die if he failed either scenario, so he rather take a quick gamble on his life, rather slowly die.

With his choice made, Alexander looked down at his thigh and began to stare at it. 

For this to work, Alexander would have to draw his essence from his core and navigate it towards his wound. 

While this sounded easy on paper, Alexander struggled to pull something like this off when he was fully healthy during his training sessions with Claire.

It was with her that Alexander Learned that the less world energy he had, the more controlled his usage of it became.

Eventually reaching the point of no longer being automatic.

(Think of it like naturally breathing vs doing it manually.)

Taking a deep breath, Alexander began to draw on his essence/world energy. 

At first, there was nothing, but, as time passed there was a faint, yet familiar pull stirring from Alexander's chest and trickling down to his thigh. 

Feeling the energy emerging, albeit reluctantly due to his weakened state, Alexander continued to press forward, until eventually, a dim white light emerged at the sight of his wound.

The white light flickered, and then pain in his leg became increasingly intense. 

Sweat began trickling down Alexander's forehead, dripping from his chin as he intensified his focus. 

It wasn't long after that Alexander began to feel his wound slowly healing. He could feel his flesh slowly being knitted back together, the pain growing increasingly dull as the blood began to stop its flow.

The process was extremely taxing on Alexander's already small reserves of energy, his vision began to blur as his breaths began to grow shallow. 

He continued to push to maintain focus, but before he could finish healing the wound, the white light flicked out.

The last of Alexander's energy sapped away from him. 

Feeling weak, Alexander lost his balance and collapsed into the crate he was leaning against. 

His breath was heavy and ragged as he struggled to keep his eyes open. 

He began to slip in and out of consciousness, as his vision further blurred. 

Alexander gritted his teeth in an attempt to stay awake, he had done all he could with what little world energy he had. 

He knew it was a gamble, but he didn't expect to run out so quickly. 

His leg, though no longer in a life-threatening predicament, was still half healed.

Swallowing hard, Alexander tried his hardest to keep awake and crawl out of the crate. 

His trembling hands grabbed at its edges as he attempted to pull himself up. 

Yet he wasn't strong enough.

Consequently, the more he struggled, the more his exhaustion grew. 

Eventually, upon reaching the point of no return, Alexander finally passed out. 

His final thought before passing out was of a desperate plea for survival. 

With his body now limp inside the crate, and his legs hanging out, the forest continued to surround him in empty silence. 

And it stayed like that for a while, until suddenly, deep within the forest, the faint sounds of footsteps began to approach.

Leaves and grass crushed under bare feet as the path forward was illuminated by a handmade torch. 

It seemed that Alexander was about to have his plea for survival answered in the most dangerous way possible.

Another person.