As soon as Cedric went outside, the tent felt colder. Like it had turned into a mausoleum and was prepared to house my corpse for all time. I tried to banish the morbid thought, but it persisted.

Outside the tent, Cedric was trying to figure out how to use the flying sword. At one point, I heard an awkward thud, and Cedric hurriedly called out, "Everything's fine."

The embarrassment in his voice almost made me laugh. It helped banish the dark thoughts that had been plaguing me. I knew from experience what he must have done. After I got the flying sword from Yu Yan's shop last summer, I must have fallen on my ass a half a dozen times before I figured out the trick. Straining my voice, I called out, "You need to bend your knees."

"Like this?." He asked.

Before I could say anything, Cedric screamed, "Ahhhh." His screams faded as the sword shot into the sky.

As his scream faded, I smiled and said to an empty tent, "Yes, just like that."

For a second, I felt guilty about laughing at Cedric discovering first hand that flying on swords feels very different than a broom. "He'll be fine," I said out loud to reassure myself.

With Cedric gone to get help, I was alone with my thoughts. Hopefully, he would make it back before I ran out of potions. I wasn't looking forward to dealing with the pain once I ran out.

Being a crippled as I was, there wasn't much to do but think about how this had happened. Someone had slipped a portkey into my locker without anyone discovering them in the act.

Had we been transported someplace normal, my first thought would have been someone in the competition was trying to take me out. Working to remove your competitors before you have to face them isn't unheard of in the wizarding world. I had wrongly assumed that the Silver Spears would have taken precautions and that the locker room would be a safe place. How in Merlin's Beard was I supposed to know that the pack that I assumed belonged to a teammate, was a portkey?

If I were going around assuming every object in the world could be cursed, I would end up as crazy as Mad-Eye Moody. Of course, I sympathize with some of his paranoia now. I can already picture him glaring at me with his magical glass eye and barking "Constant Vigilance."

If I make it out of this mess, I will have to be warier in the future. Last year, when I had been learning how to break through wards, I had discovered that it was possible to sense magic when I concentrated. I hadn't used it much because I've been busy with Occlumency, and detecting magic takes effort. But, after this debacle, I swear I'm going to get to the point where I can keep on my magic detection sense all day. It will take time to get to that point, but if I can get to where I have my Occlumency shields up all day. Surely I can learn to manage one more thing in the background.

I put my plans for the future on hold, as my thoughts turned back to the portkey that landed me in this mess. Portkeys are supposed to be regulated by the ministry. But, growing up with my uncle, I have learned there are cracks in every system. The Ministry of Magic can't possibly track the creation of every portkey. Hell, even Barty Crouch Jr. was able to turn the Triwizard cup into a portkey and not be discovered. Even their whole stance on unforgivable curses, where the use of one will give you a one-way ticket to Azkaban, only happens if they catch you.

I would guess that they try to monitor the magic a portkey will give off when used. But, there is no way they can monitor the whole world. They probably focus their efforts into areas where muggles live, which means that the chances of the local magical government detecting our unauthorized use of a portkey, are slim to none.

My thoughts turned darker when I thought about the person I assumed was responsible for my fate. I may be a little biased in my thinking, but I can't help but assume that this had something to do with Michael. That little shit-stain had promised payback for the embarrassment of appearing loony at one of his father's public engagements and getting thrown in St. Mungo's mental ward. I just hadn't been expecting such an out of proportional response.

Already, thoughts of revenge were swirling in my mind. While we had taken swings at one another, this was on a whole new level. A small part of my mind pointed out that if it was Michael, he might not have realized what was on the other side of the portkey, especially if he stole it from his grandfather.

I had already ruled out Declan Whithorn as being involved. There was no way he would be stupid enough to be involved in something so noisy and attention-grabbing. Even if he can somehow spin the story, there is no way to cover up it up completely. Not with my family being as connected as it is, and I'm sure the Silver Spears will make a big stink about one of their players disappearing. This whole thing screamed at being an amateurish attempt to deal with me.

On the one hand, the rational part of my brain warned me that I needed to think this through. If I took out Michael, his grandfather was sure to get involved. Maybe he wouldn't get me, but what about my little sisters. And on the other hand, a dark, rage-filled part of me whispered that that little fucker almost killed me, and even if it was accidental, he needed to pay. I knew if I put my mind to it, I could find a way to get rid of him.

When my thoughts turned to my family, I couldn't help but worry. I knew we weren't ready to take on the Whithorn's organization, but my disappearance could be the match that sets everything ablaze. Thoughts of how they would respond worried me. My little sisters were at the match. If a fight broke out at the arena, what would happen to them?

While part of me was worried, the logical part of my brain pointed out that beneath my uncle's eccentric personality was a calm, cunning, ruthless mind. He would make sure events didn't spin out of control.

The first day I was alone, I was furious that there wasn't much I could do other than lie on my bed and think about the future. The more I thought about everything, the more pissed I became. I refuse to believe that this is going to be my fate. I didn't die and reincarnate in this magical world to die in a nameless forest, broken and alone. No, I would survive this and come out on the other side stronger.

When the last beams of sunlight faded away, I drank one of two healing potions I had left, as well as my final sleeping potion. If Cedric didn't arrive back sometime tomorrow, tomorrow night was going to be bad. My last conscious thought was a prayer that I would wake and find Cedric to have returned with help.

I woke to an empty tent. What could be keeping Cedric? I hope nothing went wrong. I drank my final healing potion along with the last of my painless potion. I prayed to the heavens that help would arrive now before the agony returned. Knowing what awaited me was a form of torture. The more I worried about what was to come, the faster time seemed to go.

Soon, the sun was setting, and I could feel a dull throbbing pain begin to spread. The agony consumed my every thought. But, what was worse was the rise in my skin's temperature, which told me that I was developing an infection.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

At one point, the pain got so bad that I even became a little grateful that I was partially paralyzed. Not being able to feel anything in my legs had become a blessing in disguise.

In stories, you always hear about how the hero somehow embraces the pain, and it makes them stronger. But, after experiencing it for myself, I say the stories are a crock of shit. Pain doesn't make you stronger. It just beats you into submission, then invites suffering, agony, and torment to join in on the fun. It invades your mind and becomes part of your every waking thought until you can't think of anything other than pain.

Ironically, time seemed to slow down now that I wanted it to speed up. The bouts of agony made a minute seem like an hour. Unable to move, sinister thoughts began creeping in. There were spells that I could use, spells that would end the pain, end everything. It's not like I haven't experienced death before. Maybe I would go somewhere else, somewhere with no pain, just peace.

I beat the seductive thoughts down with memories of my family and friends. They were coming for me, and they would break into hell to find me. I just needed to do my part and find a way to stay alive.

I lost track of time completely. I couldn't say how long I laid there suffering in pain. Eventually, the pain became too much, and I ended up retreating to the last safe harbor I had, my mind. I tried to put up a barrier between my mind and my body. As the delirium from the infection set it, it seemed to have some success. I could still feel the pain, but it didn't seem as important.

Part of mind was alarmed, it tried to warn me that as bad as the pain was, it kept me alive, and its reduction could only mean one thing. But, after everything I had been through, I was too tired to go back and fight. If my time was almost up, then I would spend it in my mind palace, where my memories of my family surrounded me.

Over and over, I watched memories of my family. The first chess game I had with Dad, or Mum teaching me how to brew a potion. The first time Sasha got my name right, Rebbeca's first step. The many adventures Athena and I had exploring our family property. So many good memories, even if I died, at least I got to experience a loving family this time.

I was so absorbed in watching the memories that I didn't realize that something else entered my mind palace. It was only when I heard it try and break into the second floor that I realized I was no longer alone.

At the speed of thought, I appeared on the first floor, sitting on my hawk throne. A fifteen-foot, tar-black eel had somehow sneaked into the first floor of my mind palace. It was a Mind Lamprey. In the real world, it was fragile and only targets the dying. They latch on the head and can project themselves into the minds of their target, where they consume memories.

The more memories they consume, the larger and stronger their projections get. Seeing how big this thing was, I'm guessing it had already consumed most of the fake memories I had created. Now, it was trying to go for the real stuff.

"Get out of my mind," I yelled while trying to raise my shields. My Occlumency shields snapped into place, but the creature seemed unaffected.

For a moment, I was confused. The books said I could easily boot any witch or wizard that gained access to my mind with Legilimency. I guess whatever mental magical abilities that Lamprey was employing were more stronger than what a wizard or witch could do.

The Lamprey seemed to swim through the air as it tried to maneuver around me. Panicking, I summoned more of my fakes memories and threw the books at the otherwordly creature.

It didn't take long for the creature to devour as it's appetite seemed to increase the bigger it got. Eventually, the Lamprey spun and knocked me out of the way with its tail and proceeded to the next floor.

Furious, I charged and jumped on it's back and tried to squeeze it to death. "Don't even think about it." I fiercely whispered. Even though the second floor was full of utterly mundane memories, like brushing my teeth, I wasn't willing to lose a single one.

Unimpressed with my struggle, the Lamprey rolled and threw me off. By the time I recovered, it had already devoured a book. Panicking, I tried to create some more fake memories. But, the creature's ability to consume a memory was far faster than my ability to create. For every memory I cobbled together, it destroyed at least ten others.

Eventually, it seemed to become unsatisfied with the memories that were available and sensed juicer ones deeper within. Nothing I tried stopped its advance to the third floor.

"No!" I screamed in mental anguish as I saw the Lamprey destroy an old memory of my mother reading a story to me as a toddler. It may seem silly, but those early moments of pure motherly love grounded me and helped me stay sane as a baby.

Instantly, I came to a decision that would forever change the rest of my life. I commanded my tower to switch my third-floor memories with the seventh, where I kept all my memories of my previous life. Those memories meant nothing to me compared to memories of my current life.

As I watched the Lamprey consume and destroy the remains of my previous life, I knew I had made the right decisions. I wouldn't trade one of my precious memories for all the memories of my previous life. It's time to stop looking back and look to the future.

I had bought some time by sacrificing those memories. I needed to find a solution before it was finished and moved on to the next floor. I knew the answer laid with creating new artificial memories, but I wasn't sure how to proceed. Normally, it took around ten minutes for me to create one, and the Lamprey was using around thirty seconds to devour one.

I figured I had bought a few hours to figure out the trick. Closing my eyes, I started laying the groundwork for a memory. Ten minutes later, and I had a fresh fake ready to go. Frustrated, I threw the book at the Lamprey.

Ten minutes wasn't going to cut it if I wanted to prevent this creature from devouring my mind and leave me with nothing. There had to be a way to speed up the process.

I discarded one idea after another as I watched the Lamprey run rampant through the level. At this point, it had worked its way through more than half of the memories on this floor. It's a shame that I can't treat memories like computer programs from my precious life, like being able to save a backup or copying and pasting a document.

A light went off in my head, rather than cobble together memory, I just copy one then change what I need. That would solve the problems with speed. It would almost be just like editing a memory, with a small extra step.

Quickly, I summoned a mundane memory from downstairs to get started. It took me a few minutes to figure it out, but I saw immediate improvement. I went from ten minutes to about five. Encouraged, I kept at it, making copies, then changing the framework that already existed.

Soon, I got the process to be below a minute, but that wasn't enough. The Lamprey had gone through most of the memories on the level, and I only had a few minutes before it moved on to the fourth floor.

Finally, I got the speed to match that of the Lamprey. I was tossing out fakes as fast as it was eating them. Even though I had decided to make the switch, I felt a great sense of loss when I saw the last of my memories from my previous life be destroyed. I felt relieved that I had taken the time to reread the books in my memories. Since I had new memories of reading the books, I would still have all the knowledge of upcoming events, and could adequately prepare.

The rage that I had been holding back burst forth in a torrent. It drove me to create memories even faster. Soon, I had the time down to fifteen seconds, but I wasn't satisfied. I kept pushing them out, one by one. Slowly, the level started filling up with fakes because the Lamprey couldn't keep up anymore. Knowing I could do more, I kept at it. Eventually, I was pumping them out every few seconds, and the level was filling up.

We fell into a stalemate at that point. I couldn't make it leave. But, it couldn't eat faster than I made fakes. I don't know how long our stalemate went on for, but soon, I felt the energy that the anger provided me start to fail.

I was too far gone from my injuries. The anger had helped give me the energy to stay in the fight. But, once it flagged, I could sense the end approach. Soon, I lost the ability to create fakes, and the Lamprey began to feast and pulled ahead. By the time it was finished, it was nearing forty feet long and a foot wide.

Too empty to do anything, I sat in my throne powerless. The Lamprey hissed with victory and started winding through the air towards the fourth floor. But, just as it was about to move on, it screeched a fearful tone and abruptly disappeared.

I blinked in confusion, where did it go? Did I somehow win?

Suddenly, I felt a liquid run down my throat that started to chase away the pain. Struggling, I cracked an eye and found an Asian witch pouring a potion down my throat while running her wand over my chest, murmuring incantations. Next to her was Cedric, who was worriedly pacing back and forth.

Mustering the last of my strength, I choked out, "I knew you would make it."

I wasn't able to hear a response because once I got the words out, my world went black, and I knew no more.