The skeleton lifts the slender bones of its hand, waving them in a beckoning motion. "... and I know just the place you can get one. Follow me."

The skeleton turns to my right and begins to move, its joints precariously swinging from underneath its hips, the scenery of the night clearly visible between the floating bones encircling its ribcage.

Something about the creature seems depressingly barren and incomplete. Is this the unnatural existence that I lead now? It seems too sudden. After a brief nap, I've transformed into something I terribly despise, something I've so frequently and gladly slain with the edge of my sword. It is terribly ironic that this skeleton, that same creature which I have slain, would gladly help me find a weapon.

I follow after the skeleton as its unpadded bone feet knock into the brittle earth, at a loss of what else to do. I hope that this is all just a dream, yet the longer I walk behind the skeleton, the less sure I am that it is one. My perceptions of my surroundings are far too detailed, and my thoughts are far too clear, for this to truly be a dream.

After walking a few dozen meters, the skeleton stops to turn around and face me, its arrow still readied against the bowstring. The skeleton stretches itself more upright, exuding a sense of purpose. "You are probably wondering, at this point, why you came to transform into a skeleton. You may have begun to question your social obligations to your human kin, but your human memories are too strong to let you give them up."

The skeleton is, in a way, right on the money, but it implies that my moral obligations to humanity are objective. My new physical form may change how this skeleton perceives me, but it doesn't change who I am.
I clench my fists tight, trying to convey the anger my face cannot. "If you think that I can give up my friends that easily, then you are gravely mistaken."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll give up your friends quite easily. Such sympathy is predictably short among the newly spawned, once they realize the irreconcilable differences between them and their former kin." The creature seems to relish the words like a carefully recited speech. It rubs the ivory fingers of its free hand against the bowstring. "This likely comes as an extremely unpleasant shock to you, but luckily, I have developed an amusing game to help you soothe over your uneasiness, while you simultaneously learn to use your most essential weapon. We'll kill two birds with one stone sword, as the humans would say... although I much prefer the phrase, 'kill two men with one arrow.'"

The skeleton rolls its skull back and begins to chuckle, its grunts causing the discs of its spine to rattle. It turns its back to me, facing forward and slightly to the right. The tiny bones of its hand rise up to beckon me closer to it.

I walk up to it, somewhat worried of what the skeleton may be planning to make me do.

"Now, do you see that guard over there, standing idly on the road?"

I follow the skeleton's line of sight to the road, where a guard stands, dressed in full-body iron armor and wielding a bow, with arrow in hand. I nod.

"That one's worth fifty points. Any guard's worth ten points, plus an additional ten points for each piece of armor they're wearing. Villagers are twenty points." It lifts its bow up to eye level, taking aim. "I take three shots to try and kill as many as I can, and then we alternate. Whoever gets the most points before sunrise wins. How's that sound?"

I say nothing, looking at the guard standing still, oblivious of the arrowhead pointed at his neck. If the skeleton tries to shoot at him now, he will likely get killed.

The skeleton strengthens its grip on its arrow.

I can't just stand back and let the skeleton kill him.

I sprint to its left, reach for its arrow, and grab onto it tight, prying it from the bow. The skeleton jerks the bow away from me.

"What do you think you're doing?" The skeleton says. "You can't just pull my arrow away like that while I'm trying to aim. That's cheating!"

The skeleton hovers its hand parallel to the bow, massaging the air gently with its bony fingers. Faint red sparks fall from its fingertips, landing upon a predetermined invisible plane next to the bow. The red sparks become progressively brighter and more numerous as they accumulate, until they coalesce into a narrow glowing rod, which cools into the shape of a wooden shaft, with a deadly sharpened flint at one end, and smoothly shaped feathers at the other. It is a perfectly crafted arrow, conjured from nothing. The skeleton plucks it from the air and slides it into position, as rapidly and as naturally as if the bowstring offers no resistance. The entire process is silent.

The skeleton aims its new arrow at the guard again. I let go of the old arrow and grab onto the bow, using my weight to pull it down. The skeleton lets out a groan of surprise, jerks the bow downward and out of my reach, and then pushes my arms away.

"Hey, stop that! Let me shoot it!"

I take advantage of its pause to reach for its bow again. The skeleton pulls it out of my hands before I can get a good grip.

"Are you trying to steal my bow? Because you won't be able to, no matter how hard you try."

"What makes you so sure?" I reply skeptically.

The skeleton lifts its free hand up to eye level, the gaps clearly visible between the tiny floating bones. "Magic."

It lowers its hand to grip the bow again, steadying its aim.

What should I do? Clearly the skeleton won't part from its bow so easily, but if I let the skeleton kill the guard, then I'm letting myself become one of them. Yet, if I try to fight the skeleton, its bow will give it the offensive upper hand.

I suppose I have nothing to lose. At least I'm wearing armor.

I run into the skeleton, colliding into it at its collarbone. I fall on top of it, pushing it to the ground. The skeleton shrieks in surprise and, its bow still loaded correctly despite the impact, fires at an angle. The arrow snaps in half upon my chestplate.

I press my boot upon the skeleton's right arm - the one holding its bow - and draw my fist back. I slam it into the skeleton's jaw... once, twice, three times... each collision rattling its bones. The skeleton struggles to pull its right arm out from underneath me, while it tries to push my shoulder away. I shrug off the skeleton's grip as I draw my arm back for another hit, aiming for the chest this time. The impact of my fist with the skeleton's breastbone causes a resounding crack, followed by the sting of rapidly dissipating magic, then the acrid smell of putrefied flesh. The skeleton's bones decay into dust, as white smoke rises from the grass to consume them.

I pull the bow from the skeleton's limp finger bones. An electric energy flows from the bow into my hand. The shaft fits perfectly in my grasp, as if I had crafted it myself.

I gaze down victoriously into the dissipating white smoke. Your weapon isn't so private when you're dead, is it? Now, go back to your grave.