When Xeno walked outside, a zombie took notice. Its skin was a light shade of green and its clothes had been reduced to rags. Blood oozed from wounds all over its body, and, on its head, it barely had any skin, only red, bloody flesh exposed to the night sky. It groaned as it shambled towards him. As he stared at the monster, he wondered if it had ever once been human. Had the people of the destroyed kingdoms become zombies?

Xeno pulled out his bow and arrow and fired at the zombie. Xeno shot another arrow before he was forced to draw his sword.

His first slice missed and cut off the zombie's left hand. He impaled the zombie in the stomach next, ignoring the spilling blood, then ripped the sword out to prepare for the swarm of zombies nearby. The fights seemed to never end. He fired arrow after arrow. His arms ached from swinging his sword. Zombie after zombie came after him, and zombie after zombie died before him. Soon, his sword was drenched in blood along with his breastplate. As he felled zombie after zombie, their clawing and bites were starting to have a toll on him. He was only able to walk for a few minutes without more zombies shuffling towards him

And the smell. He should've expected that rotting corpses would smell bad, but it still caught him by surprise. The odor was absolutely putrid. The more zombies he killed, the more it stuck to him. Dried blood, rotting flesh, torn skin, slime. Between the dried blood stuck to his armor and the smell, he knew he would have to wash in the morning. Now, four zombies shambled towards him. Xeno grabbed his bow and reached for his arrows.

He felt nothing.

As the first zombie came upon him, he drew his sword. Tired, and in pain, he missed most of his attacks. The zombie made several hits on him. There was a tug on his shoulder and something dripped down his back. He turned and kicked the zombie in the shin before the first one tackled him to the ground. He punched and kicked, but it was on top of him in an instant. As the four zombies crowded around, gnawing at his armor, clawing at his face, and ripping at his arms, he felt strangely at peace. What was the point of all this? He had no memories, no reason to live. All he knew was a man named Scott and an unrelenting world. And now? He had gone and gotten himself killed.

He gripped his sword tightly with both hands at his side, submerged in a sea of pain. Even as death seemed to approach him, he couldn't get himself to move. The zombie next to him was biting only his shoulder plate - the wooden armor was a good choice, after all. He hoped it liked the taste cellulose. With every second passing, trapped under an ever-growing horde, he wondered what the point of it all was. He had woken up in a strange land, and followed strange tasks set forth by a strange man who seemed to know all about him. Of course, he had to act. He knew that. Every second that he lay down was another monster on his heels.

Anger began to build inside of him. He felt worthless and detached from reality. But he wasn't worthless and he knew that. And if he was detached from this reality, he was going to attach himself with a titanium anchor and a thousand iron chains. Which meant he had to act.

He swung the sword up, splitting the zombie's head down the middle. He didn't care that its blood was pouring all over him, he just wanted it dead. While he smashed the zombie's skull in, he kicked another zombie and punched a third. Xeno leaped to his feet and hurled the sword into the skull-smashed zombie. Its head blew off like a petal in the wind. He kicked away the two zombies in front of him and turned to stab the fourth zombie with the wand.

Its head exploded into flames and smoke. A billowing cloud rose from its socket.

The other couple of zombies were met with slashes, kicking, punching, and bludgeoning, until he If these zombies thought they could kill him, they were wrong. He lived to prove them wrong.

Xeno was disarmed, so he used his pickaxe. His pickaxe got stuck, so he used his axe. His axe was thrown to the side, so he used his hands. His hands became tired, but he continued until there was nothing but a heap of flesh, bone, and blood before him. Four zombies reduced to mangled piles of skin and muscle swimming upon an ocean of blood.

He leaned on his knees, taking deep breath after deep breath. He had killed those four zombies, but more would replace them. He knew he had to get out of there, and fast.

Xeno began to run. He didn't know where and he didn't care. He ran wherever his feet would take him. At first, it was going great - the zombies began to fall behind.

Then, the adrenaline wore out. The pain hit him like a ton of bricks. His back felt like it had been bludgeoned with a hammer. His head was imploding in on itself, his arms were falling from his body, and his legs had long lost all feeling. He collapsed onto the ground. Blood from his cuts dripped onto the ground and pooled around his face, but moving was too agonizing. He balled up his fists, hoping the tension would relieve the pain from the cuts and scrapes he had. His right arm bled profusely onto the grass.

He felt extremely drowsy, like the world was fading in and out of existence with a blink of the eye. No! He had to stay awake. He had to. But it was easy not to. There was a sparkling sound and a star slammed into the ground a few yards from his face with a bright yellow glow. The lack of sleep and physical exertion was getting to him - now he was even having hallucinations. He had to stay awake. He had to stay awake. Stay awake. Stay awake. Stay awake. The words repeated in his head again, and again, and again. But it was just... so easy to fall asleep. To let the drowsiness pull him in. He was already downed. What difference did it really make? Still, his mind droned on. Stay awake. Stay awake. Stay awake. Stay... awake...

Xeno awoke in the morning in a chair in a room. At first, he was too tired to notice anything, but, after a few minutes, he remembered the previous night. The first thing he noticed was that he was in the house. Had it all been a dream? He was definitely back home. Maybe he had just fallen asleep and dreamed about that battle.

The second thing he noticed was the pain. His head throbbed. Every joint in his body ached. He had cuts all over his hands, arms, and face that stung. Bruises everywhere. Blood on his clothes. No, it hadn't been a dream. Couldn't have been. But how was he back home, anyway? He noticed right arm had been bandaged with gauze. A small knot sat at his elbow. A deep red stain spread across the bandages. Scott had probably bandaged it for him.

Even if the guy didn't give him any arrows, he was still the nicest person he had met in Terraria - he was the only person he had met in Terraria, but that was besides the point. At the very least, his armor was clean and sitting next to the door, along with his tools and backpack. Clearly, Scott had done some cleaning. Had the guy really dragged him all the way back home? He probably would have died out there - thank Hermes that Scott (or whoever it was) found him when he did.

Xeno had gone exploring already, but was it enough? He had little to show for it, except for a wand that seemed to be able to set things on fire - but he couldn't control it. Apart from that he had - what - a few bottles of liquid, some rope, gel, and some coins? Not exactly worth getting mauled by zombies. Although, ripping their heads off and desecrating their organs did feel pretty good.

The door opened and Scott walked inside. He looked a bit disheveled and a bit of gel stuck to his shoulders.

"Fighting slimes, again?" Xeno asked.

"Yeah, the usual." Scott replied.

"Why don't you just stay inside so you don't have to deal with those monstrosities?"

"Says the person who went outside during the night and got absolutely destroyed by zombies."

"You have a point," Xeno said, yawning. "So did you take me back here ooor?"

"Yeah. Found you face planted into the ground next to a pool of your own blood. Looks like your arm got bitten pretty bad. You got blood on my clothes, though, so eugh," Scott said.

"Thanks, man."

"You're welcome. Anyways, I was cooking some soup over the campfire. I already ate, but you weren't awake until now. I'll go get you some." Scott went out the door and came back, a few minutes later, with a steaming wooden bowl in his hands. He placed it on the table, along with a glass of red liquid.

"What's the red stuff?" Xeno asked.

"Healing potion."

"The heck is that?"

"That red liquid I found in your backpack. You are lucky you found five bottles of the stuff. It's supposed to make you heal faster, and it works, surprisingly." Scott explained. "Anyways, since table manners are dead like half the population, I'm going to excuse myself to murder more slimes."

"Why do you need to kill so many, anyway?" Xeno said. He took a spoonful of the soup and drank it. It tasted quite good - it had a forest like undertone tasting of mushrooms, nuts, and wild vegetables. "You know, your soup is pretty good."

"Thanks," Scott said, "I'm just gathering coins. By the way, the soup is also made with those forest mushrooms you see laying around. They are also supposed to have healing properties, and, considering they are an ingredient in health potion, I don't doubt that."

"Oh, and what do those light blue potions do?" Xeno asked.

"Oh, those? Recall potions. They teleport you back to home. Quite rare, actually - use them sparingly."

"Would've been nice to know that before," Xeno muttered. "Speaking of which, what is that weird fire wand thing?"

"The wand of sparking? Oh, yeah, that. As you might have seen it sets things on fire," Scott said, "Anyway, I'll be off now. Goodbye."

"See you later," Xeno said. Scott left, bow in hand, leaving him to his soup.

It actually tasted quite good, and the health potion itself wasn't too bad, although it was strong in flavor. After drinking up all the soup and potion, the pain was already starting to disappear. Maybe now would be a decent time to take inventory of his supplies - he had nothing better to do, anyway. He walked over, trying to tread as carefully as he could so no odd movements would cause sudden pain. He knelt down to his backup, opened it up, and placed his supplies on the table.

First, Xeno had his equipment. His tools were all clean, but they still had a lingering smell of flesh and blood. His wooden armor and sword were a bit chipped, but that was about it. His copper tool seemed to be fine. And that useless copper shortsword hadn't been touched since day one. It was the only thing in the room that didn't smell like blood. The wand itself, which he still didn't know how to use, had a few flecks of blood. His bow was pretty clean, at the least.

Then, there were his items. He had quite a few. First off were the unlit torches. He had too many of them to count, so he moved on to the next selection. There was, of course, a huge heap of gel, both green and blue. There were two coils of rope, slightly chafed, a ball of cobwebs, eight bottles, and the potions. One health potion was half empty, while the other four were full to the brim. The two 'recall' potions hadn't been touched at all. Then, of course, he had his metal. Three copper bars and seventeen chunks of ore. Maybe he would be able to smelt down the ore to make a better sword at some point.

Xeno sighed. Being cooped inside, especially in such a small house, was irritating. He knew he could make his injuries worse by going outside, but that didn't matter to him. He felt a little undignified with the whole situation. Wasn't he supposed to be a hero? The person who was supposed to save other people? Not have to be saved by them?

If he was going to save this land - whatever that entailed - Xeno was going to need to train. He shuffled to the door, with each movement being more careful and deliberate than the last. He carried nothing more than his wand. Anything more and his arms would have given out.

The morning sunlight, even as dim as it was, was blinding (he was starting to regret not adding windows). Xeno squinted - it was still early. The grass was wet with dew. A few butterflies hovered around the forest flora. The temperature was on the cooler side and a light wind blew the branches of the trees. He was glad it was a little cold - out of his three tasks, after all, one of them involved playing with fire.

The guide himself was nowhere to be seen. Good, he thought. Being alone would be nice. He found a good location, a good distance from the home, where he could get peace and quiet, but not too far because his legs were killing him.

It was a decent sized grove, with enough empty space for him to practice magic and not start a forest fire. He hobbled to the center and sat down on the grass. He would have practiced more than just magic, but his entire body was sore. Anything else would require too much movement.

Xeno grabbed the so called 'wand of sparking' and swirled it around in his hand, trying to get a feel for it. The wand just felt magic. It pulsed and buzzed in his palm. Even though the morning was cold, the wand was warm to the touch. Just because it was magic, though, didn't mean he knew what the heck he was supposed to do with it. Point it at things and say "Burnius Forestus? Kilius Plantius? Flamius Ramius Ravioli Masteroli Set Flamerime to Thatius Slime?"

No. Clearly he didn't need an incantation. And it shouldn't be that hard, he thought, considering he had already done it before, just without knowing how. He grabbed the wand and swished it around in the air, trying to make the magic do something. Anything.

Everything blanked out.

When Xeno came to, he was sprawled on the ground. And the wand - it was smoking! After a few minutes of resting - the small amount of magic had taken the energy out of him - Xeno got ready to try again, and hopefully actually make a fire this time. He focused on the wand, and the buzzing magic inside of it. The rest of the world - the wet grass blowing in the wind, the birds that leaped from tree to tree, chirping, and the butterflies dancing above his head - all became nothing more than a mere backdrop. It was as if everything in the world was blotched out, except for that wand.

Yes! He could feel it getting hotter. Smoke began to rise, and sparks! Live, real sparks! He could do it, yes, he had finally learned magic!

The sparks died off and the smoke blew away. The wand became cool once more. Xeno sighed. At last he knew why he had been able to do it earlier, but not now. Back when he was fighting, he was in danger. His mind had automatically filtered out his surroundings and focused on killing his attackers. Thus, the magic worked. Now, he was getting distracted. It frustrated him that he couldn't control when he could create the flames.

Xeno decided to try one more time - if that failed, too, then maybe it would be for the best that he returned home and got some rest. He held the wand with a firm grasp, took a deep breath, and submerged into concentration.

Ignore the butterflies.

Ignore the cold.

Ignore the wind.

Ignore the grass.

Ignore it all.

Focus. Focus. Focus. Focus on the energy. Pulsing. Buzzing. Magic.

Hotter, hotter, hotter. It's getting hotter. Don't lose focus. Ignore the heat.

Focus, focus, focus...

Indeed, a flame was starting to brew on the tip of the wand. At the sight, he wanted to jump for joy, but he had to concentrate. Otherwise, he would never make it work. Sparks began to fly from the tiny, match-light sized fire, and a wisp of smoke rose. Focus, focus, focus, he told himself. The world before him began to blur, except for the wand and the hand that grasped it. Soon, the flame grew larger and larger. Yes, yes, it was working! Now, time to aim!

He moved the wand up swiftly. The flame sizzled and burned out. Xeno told himself that he would leave after the third failure, but oh no, that was not going to happen.

Xeno stayed in the forest for hours upon hours, practicing his magic. All around him, squirrels ran up trees, white bunnies hopped and nibbled on the grass, and cardinals flew high above. It was hard to ignore the bustling, but serene activity of the forest. The scene was calming, at least, and not a single slime approached him the whole day.

His first few attempts failed, with not even a single spark appearing. Xeno chalked it up to his excitement from the first half-success and tried again. The next few tries yielded a few wisps of smoke and few wayward sparks, but nothing substantial enough to harm an opponent. His next attempt was just as poor, forming nothing but a haze of smoke. Xeno ended up coughing over the amount of smoke he had created. Clearly, magic could go wrong in rather strange ways.

Oddly enough, Xeno seemed to be doing worse the more he tried. His mind started to ache just as much as his body, and he couldn't muster up the strength to continue the magic. His stomach rumbled - he hadn't eaten since early in the morning.

Xeno checked the sky to determine the time. Judging by the sun's position, it seemed to be about an hour or so past noon. He decided not to return home. It was too far and his body and mind were already in pain. And well, he just didn't want to interact with anybody. He was too frustrated from all his failures, and the guide taking care of him was a bit awkward, although he was glad for the help. He felt a little bad, though - Scott would probably be confused and worried as to why he wasn't there. I should've left a note, he thought, but due to the missing wand, Scott might just figure it out.

Since he didn't have a campfire to cook over, Xeno settled for foraging wild mushrooms. He knew the ones in the soup were edible, so he grabbed only those, which were orange with red spots. They tasted mild, like any other mushroom, except for a slightly tart and also bitter undertone. After eating quite a few, he wondered if it was just the rest of not working or if the mushrooms were relieving some of his fatigue. The guide had said something to that effect, and, hey, maybe it was true.

Then, Xeno managed a lucky find - three bushes chock full of juicy wild blueberries. He ate them straight from the bush. They were a delicious, sweet addition to his makeshift meal, although they did stain his hands. But hey, he was already covered in red. At this rate, he would become the entire rainbow.

Xeno returned to work. His first three attempts yielded a few sparks and smoke - a good sign, but it was no inferno. The next heated the wand to unbearable levels but produced not even a wisp of smoke. The fourth and fifth yielded some good news at once - the small, match-like flames, although they burned out after a few seconds. It seemed like his luck was changing for the better. Perhaps the ball of fire wasn't a fluke, after all.

Xeno didn't know how many attempts he tried that day - probably over a hundred, but by the end he was barely able to stay awake, much less produce a fire. The only flame anything close to the original fire was a one off occurrence - Xeno never produced anything of the same magnitude throughout the rest of the day. Throughout all his practices, as well, he had never come across any attempt half as strong as what he had used the previous night.

As the sun began to fall, Xeno fled the grove. Soon, night would be upon him, and night meant getting mauled by four zombies at once while you lose all feeling in your limbs.

For the next few days, Xeno continued to practice in the grove. By the end of the second day of training, he could almost always produce sparks, except when he was extremely tired. Like before, his performance began to drop throughout the day. Nonetheless, he manged quite a few match-sized fires and a few larger ones akin to the success he had had the day before. Once, with a small ball of flame, he had managed to discharge it from the wand and send it flying into the ground.

On the third day, most of Xeno's injuries had healed to the point where he could move around normally. With his health improved, he was able to create decent sized fireballs with little smoke. He only had a few failures throughout the day, mostly toward the end. He was even able to make two of the fireballs soar through the air for a few yards.

On the fourth day, he was able to consistently create fire, and around half of the time he could control it too. His aim was more or less just firing in a general direction, however, with little accuracy. By the end of the day, he had mastered most of the fire creation aspect of the magic. Now, he just needed to focus on aiming.

During the fifth day, Xeno was finally able to take the bandages off of his left arm. With his limb less restrained, he could more easily configure the magic and point at his targets. Every attempt produced fire with almost no smoke. Often, he could fling the fireball up to five yards away. Sometimes, it would crash into the ground, or go off in the wrong direction, but as he practiced more and more these occurrences became less common. He was becoming much faster as well, and could produce a moderate flame in only a second. By the early afternoon, Xeno felt he could finally use the wand of sparking on an enemy. He had just the perfect thing in mind.

Seeking out a slime only took a minute. Xeno lured the green blob into the grove. It was squishy, bouncy, sticky, and flammable.

"You know," he said, talking to the slime (could they even hear things?), "we kill your kind for torches."

The slime bounced at him but he sidestepped it.

"Now, I'm going to get revenge on all the times you've ambushed me," he said, waving the wand in front of him.

It bounced away.

A fire exploded from the wand and blasted towards the slime, crashing into it like an arrow. It burst into flames and started to sporadically jump into the air, like a firework blasting from the ground. Wisps of smoker rose from the slime and billowed into a thin gray haze. The monster tried to roll on the ground, but the fire was consuming it from the inside as well. It started to melt, and the air filled with the acrid scent of burning gel. As it leaped from side to side, ignoring Xeno completely, it left a black sludge behind. The top of the slime began to collapse and its sides gave way too, like a wax figure melting in the summer heat. The way the gel ripped off the slime was like sweat.

The fire gained new heights and embers flew onto the grass. The slime seemed like it was taking a while to burn. Even though it was losing shape, it continued to bounce in the grove, occasionally trying to attack Xeno. Every time it made a leap, it left a charred, paste-like residue on the grass.

He decided to give the fire a helping hand. He threw one more fireball at it.

The slime exploded, literally just exploded. Flaming pieces of gel fired off in every direction as the main body was reduced to a burning pool of sludge. His first real demonstration had been a success.

After a few more practice attempts, with the burning gel as a backdrop, he made his way home. That night, he decided, he would try his fire on a more dangerous enemy. As he walked home, wand in one hand, blueberries in another (those things tasted amazing), he felt powerful for once. He had done it. He was finally able to control the elusive magic of the wand. Maybe being a hero wasn't too hard, after all.

Xeno arrived back at the house in good time. It was nearing the evening, which was perfect for his plans. He would rest until then. Frankly, he was exhausted. He threw open the door, smacked the wand on the table and sat down. He laid his head down on his arms and closed his eyes. A few minutes later, the door opened.

"Hey, Xeno. You okay?" Scott asked.

"Yeah," Xeno murmured, keeping his head down, "I'm fine, just tired. Managed to kill a slime with the wand."

"Nice. Do you have any more plans for today?"

"Oh, yeah, I was going to kill a zombie..."

"Yes, because the last time you tried that nothing went wrong," Scott said.

"Sheesh, I'll do it near the house. And I'm more powerful now, anyway," Xeno said.

"Oh. We didn't need a home anyway. A pile of cinders will do," Scott said.

"Not right next to it, duh."

"Wildfire, then?"

"You know," Xeno said, "wouldn't it be such a shame if a fireball accidentally blew your face off right now?"

"Apart from the fact you would set the entire house on fire and I would shoot you in the head, seems like a great idea!" Scott exclaimed, "Wouldn't it also be a shame if I left the doors open and a few zombies stumbled in and ate all your limbs?"

"Oh come on, that's not even funny. You do that every day." Xeno said, finally lifting his head.

"Oh well. Good luck with your fighting session. Don't forget to not get your face mauled."

"If you think I'm going to die so much, why not come with me?" Xeno suggested.

"Eh, maybe tomorrow." Scott yawned, "you know, are we going to get beds any time soon?"

"Man, aren't you super nice."

"Since I am the nicest guy in Terraria, actually, I did find you this shackle." He held up a round piece of spiky metal shaped like a wristband.

"What the actual heck would I need that for?"

Scott shrugged, "It would keep zombies from biting your arm, at least. Just slide it over your armor and it will shred their mouths."

"Ugh, fine, if you insist, I'll wear it." Xeno grabbed the 'shackle' from Scott. He wasn't sure what good it would do, but whatever.

When nighttime arrived, Xeno threw on his armor and the 'shackle,' gathered his weaponry, and went outside. He needed to find a zombie, preferably one with a slime stuck on its head (the burning would be amazing).

Xeno found the perfect target about half an hour into his session. He had killed the other zombies using his sword, (he still had no arrows), to conserve his magical energy, or his "mana" as Scott called it. When the zombie was a good five yards away, Xeno started to create a fireball. He was getting his revenge.

The slime exploded into flames. The zombie stumbled around as fire consumed its entire head into a fireball. The inferno slowly spread from the slime to the zombie's body, as it reached out for him but missed. The flames spread to the zombie's clothes and before long the entire creature was burning. As the gel burned, it began to melt and drip, in turn burning and scarring the zombie, whose flesh began to charr in the heat.

Flesh and blood, blackened, melted off and dripped down its burning neck. The zombie, stuck on the ground, made no attempt to attack Xeno. Its skin began to peel away from the body as the burning sludge consumed its upper body.

It tried to stand up, but Xeno blasted it with another fireball, ripping its arm clean off. Nonetheless, it leaped upward and bound for Xeno, who hurled another wave of flames at it. The putrid smell of charred slime and burning rotting flesh rose to his nostrils and he turned away. A minute later, he looked back. The zombie was dead.