Odder The Demon Hunter - The Blood Curse

The arena filled with a thousand screams as elves tried to flee away from the onslaught.

Odder shielded his eyes away from the fast-approaching giant inferno in the sky. Fiery fragments of Villamari and Vastadia rained down on the crowds exploding earth, wood, and bodies into the air. Smoldering soot and ash drifted in wind currents making visibility a mere several arm’s length.

Odder flew back as if being pulled - his heels dragging in the dirt. He jolted to the side, missing a pile of rubble, and then flew back about another ten yards before falling on his back. He rolled over, gasping for air, and pushed himself up to his knees.

He saw Finkle in front of him, bent over with both hands on his thighs catching his breath.

Odder coughed to clear his lungs from the thick smoke. “What happen?” He managed to ask before going into another coughing fit.

“We were about to get pulverized.” Finkle stood upright rubbing his neck. “I conjured a haste spell and drug you away from the falling temple debris.”

“By the Celestines, we have to find Destin and where’s Aimma?” Odder asked, surveying the area. He could only see the amber glows of the flaming piles of rubble through the smoke. “Aimma!” He cried out, tuning out the screams to listen for her voice.

Finkle pulled at Odder’s scorched tunic, ripping his sleeve. “We have to get out of here. Destin and Aimma are likely dead, and there’s still a dragon flying around. I’m sure the remaining temples will be falling too.”

“Help me find them,” Odder demanded, and darted back toward the courtyard.

Finkle slapped his palm on his forehead several times, “It’s suicide,” but he followed.

Chard remnants of elves, both living and dead painted the landscape. Odder and Finkle moved from one body to the next, covering their air passages to protect their lungs from the noxious fumes. He turned over a body. He was the Archwizard, his chest crushed and his face a pale blue.

Odder turned toward Finkle. “Don’t say it. I know what you’re thinking.” He shook his head and turned away, ashamed of sharing the same thought. He got what he deserved.

“Odder.” A faint voice said from behind a boulder.

“Aimma!” Odder rushed toward the voice.

“Nope, It’s me, your favorite dark elf.”

“Serra?” Odder and Finkle ran to the other side of what was clearly not a boulder, but a large fragment of a temple.

They stood over her. She sat with her back against the rock holding her thigh.

“So, this is the Xenduri vixen?” Finkle said straightening his fez.

“Vixen?” Serra grunted and moved her hand revealing a large metal fragment embedded into her leg.

“Say.” She winced, squeezing her eyes shut. Her shoulders curled over her chest. “Do you mind removing this sliver from my thigh? I’m having a hard time gripping it.”

“That’s no sliver, Serra.” Odder frowned and placed his finger on the polished steel. “It looks like the tip of a battle ax.”

She turned her head and grunted.

“Come on, laddy,” Finkle said. His expression sober. “Let’s help the maiden out.”

Odder gripped the flat edges on the metal while Finkle held his hands over her wound.

“When I count to three,” Finkle said. “You pull, and I’ll start healing. One, two, three.”

Odder yanked the object free. Serra shrieked, and punched Odder in the chest, knocking him off his feet. Black blood shot out of the wound and splattered into Finkle’s face.

He grimaced and frantically wiped his cheeks. “Disgusting. Is this going to make my skin blister?”

Finkle focused. He placed his hands back over Serra’s leg. “Calm down Finkle,” He mumbled to himself. He took a deep breath, “and you too missy.”

He chanted a spell, and red streams of light drifted from his hands to her gash. The healing light pulsed and pulled the open wound back together.

Serra sat up and let out a deep breath. “Thanks, gnomey. Can you hand me my satchel?” She opened her bag and pulled out a florescent red vial. She poured it onto her wound. It fizzed. “All better now.” She relaxed her back gently into the boulder.

Odder sat next to her relieved. He wiped the soot from his brow. “So, what are you doing here?”

“Well.” She paused and threw the vial into the haze. “I came to finish the business I started with your Prince.” She glanced around. “I guess it’ll have to be another day.”

“Sounds like you two need to talk, but make it quick.” Finkle sauntered to the other side of the boulder. “Don’t mind me. I’ll be over here, looking out for a dragon.”

“You know I can’t allow you to kill him?”

Serra bared her teeth. “You know nothing about your master.”

“You’re wrong. I’ve known him for as long as I can remember. Sure, he’s arrogant and has an overinflated ego, but he’s a good and just Prince.”

She pounded her fist on the ground. Her dark veins formed sharp geometric shapes that danced on her skin. “He’s a murderer!”

A sudden roar rumbled from high above. Odder flinched and the back of his hair lifted.

“We have to get out of here,” Finkle said, stepping from around the rock.

Odder stood. His mind made up. “We can’t go until we find Aimma.”

“What about Serra and most of all, what about us?” Finkle grabbed a hand full of ash from the ground and threw it into the air. “Look around, laddy. Smell the brimstone. We’re in the demon’s underworld.”

“What do you know of demon’s little gnome,” Serra interrupted.

Finkle glared and clenched his fists.

“Stop it, Finkle. We don’t have time for this.” Odder took a knee and in a calm voice, asked Serra, “Can you walk?”

“Not yet, I need more time to heal.”

Odder took in a deep breath and stood. He cleared his thoughts and stayed true to his decision. “Alright, we’ll be back for you.” He started north.

“This is a bad idea,” Finkle mumbled.

“Aimma!” They both cried out circling the area where they sat moments ago. “Aimmaaa…”

Odder grabbed the arm of a passing sentry. “Aimma, have you seen her? She’s a healer, about my height, braided silver hair.”

The sentry held his fist up to his mouth and coughed. He tried to utter words but coughed again. In his fit, he pointed east.

Odder released his arm and headed that direction with Finkle close behind. They crouched low trying to avoid the fumes.

“Aimma,” Odder yelled. He looked back at Finkle. “Can you cast something to clear the air?”

“I’ll give it a try.” Finkle rubbed his hands in a circular motion, uttered some words, and spread his hands. A small lightning cloud formed between his palms. “Nitru Ventus!” He clapped his hands together, creating thunder, and sending a shockwave that cleared the air.

The force knocked Odder to the ground. He covered his ears as sharp pain pulsed into his brain.

“Quickly,” Finkle said. “We only have a few moments to find her before the smoke returns.”

Odder sat up. “Why didn’t you do that earlier?”

Finkle shrugged.

Odder glanced around and spotted Aimma healing someone on the ground near the King’s chair surrounded by a dozen or more of the King’s guards. “I see her.”

“Me too.” Finkle pointed. “Let’s hurry.”

As they approached, the guards held up their swords.

“It’s alright,” Aimma said, “they’re with me.”

The guards opened their formation to allow Odder and Finkle to enter.

Odder stood, opened mouth, staring down at the King. His legs were crushed and mangled like giant boulders rolled across them. Flashes of blue light traveled between Aimma’s hands and the King’s legs as she frantically conjured healing spells.

Finkle let out a long exhale and turned away.

The King grabbed Odder’s leg. His arm and hand were charred, but his grip was strong. “Odder.” Blood leaked from his mouth.

Odder bowed to one knee. “Yes, my king.”

The King released Odder’s leg and grasped his arm. He turned it until he could see the markings. “You must not go to the portal.”

“Your majesty, please relax so I can heal you,” Aimma said, her voice stern but calm.

Odder frowned and clasped the King’s hand. “Why would I go there?”

“If you go, the demons will be released upon the land.” The King coughed into his shoulder, leaving remnants of blood. “Find the wizard Salvat. He will hide you.”

A gray haze crept over the burning rubble and crawled along the scorched earth like a wild beast, surrounding the elves.

“They are almost here. You must go now,” The King said, waving them away.

“I won’t leave,” Aimma declared.

“Nor I,” Odder said.

Finkle stood tight-lipped.

“Guards, take Odder out of here. I command it.”

The guards glanced at one another and back at the King. Realizing his sincere expression, they gathered Odder, Aimma, and Finkle and escorted them out of the area in a defensive formation.

With protest, Aimma yelled, “At least one of you stay with your king.”

A guard stood upright. “I’m Ecklyn, and I will stay.” He ran back and positioned himself between the King and the field.

“Britt, hordes of them approach. Can you see them through the haze?”

Odder perked up. “That’s Prince Destin’s voice.”

Everyone stopped and listened.

“Run Prince, run!”

“Over there.” A guard pointed west. “The voices are coming from that direction.”

They ran westward and stopped. The only things seen within fifty yards were the King and his guard, burning rubble, and dead bodies, but no Prince or Britt.

“Ahh, I’m wounded… I can’t run any further. I’ll hold them off.”

“Here.” Finkle pointed to a hearken shell between several rocks. “I found the source.”

Odder kicked it. “They are still in the field. We have to rescue them.”

A guard gripped Odder’s arm. “We are ordered to take you to safety.”

Odder tried to break free, but the guard’s grip tightened, pain shot down his arm bringing Odder to his knees.

Aimma clutched the guard’s hands and tried to pull his fingers free.

Finkle kicked the guard in the shin. “Pick on someone your own size.”

A barrage of explosions sounded from the north. Everyone ducked and froze to take notice. Flashes of yellow light ignited the haze, and a fast moving figured emerged.

“It’s Prince Destin,” Odder said, thrilled.

The Prince sprinted releasing fireballs over his shoulder back into the haze. “Everyone run. The goblins are here.”

“Bulwark,” said one of the guards, pointing at Odder, “Take them behind that pile of rubble and guard them with your life.”

Bulwark, a bulky elf about three times the weight of Odder, acknowledged the guard and with his poleaxe, urged the three to follow.

Once behind the large remnants of what was no doubt part of the Villamari temple, the four peered around the stone toward Destin.

The King lifted himself over a small boulder, formed a blue energy ball in his free hand, and launched it behind the Prince. The rest of the guards followed suit with fireballs, energy blast, and lightning strikes.

Destin fell to the ground and held his ears as the elves bombarded the area behind him turning it into a wasteland.

Odder crouched down, covered his head, and shouted hoping his noise would mask the deafening uproar.

All went silent. Odder glanced at Aimma and Finkle who were in a tight embrace at the base of a stone. He stood up, dropped his hands, and stared at Destin who slowly rose to his feet. The guards stood ready, as did the King. It appeared everyone focused intently on the quietness.

A high-pitched whistling noise broke the silence, and then another. Odder caught a flash of light flying through the air and disappearing behind the King. The guards looked around with confused expressions. More flashes of light whistled from the haze. A thump sounded, and Ecklyn fell over the King.

The King pushed him aside revealing a sawblade in Ecklyn’s chest. “Take cover!”

Whistling lights now riddled the sky. The guards conjured magic shields deflecting the sawblades sending them into several unfortunate elves. The sawblades pierced their elven armor like a serrated knife cutting through cheesecloth.

“Odder, we have to get to safety.” Finkle pulled Aimma from the ground. “The goblins are advancing, and there’s no doubt the dragon is near.”

Odder said in a firm voice, “We can’t leave Destin or the King.”

Aimma turned toward Bulwark. “Can you conjure a shield?”

“I can do one better, a rampart that will move with us.”

“Now would be a great time.” Aimma turned to Odder and lowered her voice. “Destin’s too close to the goblins, but we can save the King.”

“I’m ordered to take you to safety, and that’s what I will do.” Bulwark furrowed his brow.

It made more sense to get Aimma and Finkle to safety, even though the painful lump in his stomach said he should do otherwise, Odder nodded. “We go with Bulwark.”

Bulwark removed a large red ruby from his belt and crisscrossed it in the air while chanting a spell. Streaks of red light thickened around the four until a perfect dome covered them. The semi-transparent shield did not cloud their visibility nor block the sound but did cast a rosy hue on everything they could see.

Flashes danced on the dome as the sawblades disintegrated on impact.

“We have to head towards that boulder.” Odder pointed south. “There’s someone we have to get. It’s on the way.”

“No,” Bulwark said, sharply.

Odder met eyes with the guard and firmly said, “It’s in our best interest. There is a powerful wizard waiting for us.”

“Alright,” Bulwark said, with hesitation, “but we have to be quick.”

Traveling with the magic shield made their walk slower than normal. Odder and Aimma stared back, in remorse, at leaving the King and Prince.

Hundreds of goblins emerged from the haze, mainly the small Skags but also some Dekans and Guriquars. Half of the King’s guards rushed to the King and the other half to the Prince.

Destin stood his ground and launched energy balls at the eight-foot tall Guriquar goblins who wielded the sawblade weapons.

Another figure stepped out of the haze, a hideous half scorpion, half female creature. Her eyes glowed amber, and her long black hair drifted in the wind. Two golden scorpions latched to her shoulders. Her eight legs tore into the ground as she moved toward the Prince.

Four guards came to Destin’s side and attacked the creature with their swords. Her scorpion tail lashed out and stung two of the guards in the neck. Their bodies stiffened, foam spewed from their mouths, and black streaks formed on their necks which spidered to all parts of their bodies.

Aimma screamed at the sight.

Odder grabbed Finkle’s arm. “Can you do anything?”

Finkle shook his head. “Pray that the Celestines will give them justice in their afterlife.”

Several Skags pierced the remainder of the guards with their spears, and two Dekans forced Destin to his knees. The Creature walked up to Destin, laughing.

“Wait please,” Odder pleaded with Bulwark. “Finkle, can you hear what they are saying?”

“I need a root.”

Aimma reached in her bag and gave him a bitter root.

Finkle said a spell and stuck it into the ground. The root vibrated, trembled, and then stiffened. Soon voices emerged.

The witch climbed over Destin, her stinger striking the air. The goblins hissed, pushed him to the ground, and turned him over to lay on his stomach.

“Stop, wait!” Destin pleaded. “I delivered him to you.”

She lifted one of the golden scorpions from her shoulder and placed it on Destin’s back. “Thank you. Now here is your reward.”

The scorpion dug its legs into Destin’s spine and buried its head into the back of his neck.

As he cried out, Finkle stepped on the root. “Laddy, you don’t want to be hearing the horror your master is enduring.”

Aimma and Odder stood with their mouths open. His heart ached, and he felt nauseous. “We have to help him.”

“We’ll get killed,” Bulwark said, redirecting everyone’s attention. “We have to go.”

Odder glanced back. Destin laid face down on the scorched ground surrounded by goblins. The witch advanced on the King. She stung him several times, causing his body to jerk at each strike until he laid lifeless. A cold chill ran down Odder’s spine.

A sudden roar ripped through the skies.

“Dragon,” Finkle said, in a quivering voice. “It’s back.”

They quickened their pace until Bulwark abruptly stopped, causing Aimma to run into his backside.

Large scaly legs blocked their path and the air smelled of sulfur. They scrambled in the opposite direction, but the dragon slapped his claws on the dome shield, held it in place, and applied pressure. Electric currents flashed throughout the dome as its magic faded in and out.

Bulwark held up the ruby and used his will to oppose the force of the dragon. “Get down.”

Odder, Aimma, and Finkle crouched at Bulwarks feet.

Bulwark’s arm started to tremble. He braced it with his other arm. “I don’t know how long I can resist.”

Aimma jumped up and held his arm to give him added support. Odder and Finkle looked at each other.

“Well, I can’t get up there, laddy.”

Odder sprung to his feet, placed his hands over Aimma’s hands, and pushed.

The dragon lifted his other claw onto the dome and used his upper body weight to apply pressure.

Bulwark’s trembling turned into an uncontrollable shaking. They grunted. Odder’s strength began to fail.

The shield dimmed and receded. Just before disappearing, the dragon recoiled his claws.

Bulwark threw the ruby at the dragon, then held up his poleaxe in a defensive position. Odder and Aimma retreated behind his legs.

Odder squeezed his eyes shut and waited for his flesh to be scorched into ash and thrown into the wind. Why hasn’t the dragon attacked yet? A sense of dread filled the silent void.

He heard a thump, much like the sound a spear makes when thrown through a melon at target practice. Bulwark’s legs went limp, and his body collapsed to the side.

Odder pulled him close, and Aimma searched for wounds. She found a plum sized hole in the guard’s temple. It gurgled and oozed blood mixed with a black fluid.

Aimma placed her hands over the gash and chanted a healing spell.

Finkle put his hands over hers. “You can stop Aimma.” He pointed at black veins spiraling away from the wound, covering his face, and traveling down his neck to the rest of his body. “He’s been poisoned.”

Odder looked at his poisoned veins traveling from his markings and noted the similarities. He snarled, grabbed the pickaxe, and jumped to his feet. He fixed the weapon toward the dragon, but it turned away to exhale a stream of fire on some passing guards. Odder circled around to check on the others.

“Odder, come to me, my dear.”

He froze. That voice, it’s familiar. He strained his eyes to find the source.

A dark figure emerged from the haze wearing a black and violet shawl. “My, look how you’ve grown.” She stepped closer, revealing her dark skin and black hair. Her figure was that of a typical female, absent the hideous scorpion legs and tail. She reached out her hand. “Don’t you remember me?”

Odder’s nostrils flared. “Only as the monster that killed my king and master.”

“Yes, but so much more than that. I am Queen Sorren.” She waved for her goblins to approach.

“My dream.” Odder gasped, dropped his pickaxe, and stumbled backward to the ground.

She stepped closer.

The dragon roared, startling Odder.

“Don’t be afraid. I control the dragon, and he won’t harm you.” Her eyes flamed as she spoke to the dragon. “Go, burn the castle to the ground.”

The dragon roared and took flight.

Odder shook his head and looked for his friends.

“Oh, your friends?” She waved to her side uncloaking two goblins holding Aimma and Finkle, their mouths bound. “You no longer need them.”

She stepped closer. An amber light flickered in her eyes. “Come join Destin and me.” She extended her hand once again.

He fixated on the warmth of her glowing eyes. His mind became cloudy. Destin’s alive murmured in his thoughts like a distant echo. He reached and stretched for her as if in a trance.

The markings on his arms illuminated and flashed red.

The witch peered at his arm and smiled revealing her serrated teeth. “The curse. I can save you, and I can teach you to become the most powerful wizard in this realm.”

An object whistled past Odder’s ear and exploded on the Queen’s chest, causing her to fall back.

Odder snapped out of his trance.

The Queen pulled out a stiletto embedded into her ribs. Two more flew by, hitting in her side and forehead. She screeched and collapsed backward.

The goblins holding Aimma and Finkle collapsed with stilettos inserted into their heads. A flash of black smoke raced across the ground and stopped in front of them. Serra appeared and ripped off their bindings. “Run! I’ll get Odder.”

She ran over to Odder, who was still laying on the ground. Serra held out her hand. “Let’s go.”

Odder hesitated.

Her expression became fierce. “There’s nothing here for you.” She pointed behind him. “Look, your House, it’s on fire.”

Odder remembered those familiar words. He peered over his shoulder. The basalt dragon engulfed the castle in flames. A sharp pain traveled from his markings up his arm. He cleared his head and grabbed her hand.

She lifted him to his feet and covered him with her cape. A dark smoke engulfed them. Odder felt his lungs deflate and the landscape blur. He gasped, and air filled his lungs. They were about one hundred yards south of the Queen. Aimma and Finkle ran up next to them.

“We don’t have much time.” Serra pointed. “She’s recovering.”

The Queen’s body transformed back into the scorpion, and she lifted herself upright.

“Let’s go this way,” Finkle said.

Odder turned and saw dark shadowlike figures fall from the sky and land on the ground. He counted nine as he watched them climb to their feet. Black ghostly cloaks swayed in the wind and draped over their grim skeletal frames. He could see black hearts pulsating behind their translucent ribs. The glow of their yellow eyes leaked from the hoods that covered their faces. They pointed at Odder.

“Oh no!” Serra gripped her daggers on her waist. “This is bad.”

“What are they?” Odder asked.

“Shadow reapers,” She responded. “We need to find another way.”

She set down her satchel and yelled, “cipera adme oak tree.” The satchel stretched open. “Jump in.”

All three stared at the satchel with puzzled looks.

“For the sake of the Celestine’s, it’s a portal bag.” Serra grabbed Finkle and threw him in. He shrieked, but the sound faded. “See, now jump in before we get killed.”

Aimma hopped in with Odder following her.

A hole opened in the air, and Odder fell, facedown into a purple lilac bush.

Serra leaped from another whole that formed next to Odder’s and landed on her feet in a crouched position.

Aimma and Finkle helped Odder out, untangling him from the branches. He brushed the purple flowers from his clothing and spit a few on the ground.

Serra sat silently where she landed, under a large oak tree, overlooking Lucent Lake. Odder, Aimma, and Finkle joined her.

A mixture of pine, oak, and aspen trees, with their yellow and red leaves, painted the shores and traveled up the hilly mounds into the mountains. The surface of Lucent Lake, named after its clear mountain water, was still and smooth like glass.

In the distance, flames danced on the great castle of Elestus with the basalt dragon flying overhead. To the south, nothing more than a cloud of dark smoke mushrooming into the sky where the Ladiv Arena and the reverent temples once perched.

They all sighed, looking on in disbelief.

Finkle frantically wrote several messages in the air. Several replied. “Phew, the clan is safe. They’re hiding in the garden and forests.”

Aimma also air-scripted a message. No answer. She wrote another. Again no answer. “I have to find the sorceress.”

“She’s most likely dead,” Serra said.

Aimma shook her head. “No, I refuse to believe that.”

“Believe what you want.” Serra pointed to the burning ruins. “There’s no counter attack, no resistance. They are all either dead or in hiding.”

Aimma shook her head. “We have to help the survivors.”

“Yes, I must help momma and my brethren,” Finkle said.

Serra threw a rock that skipped across the lake. “Don’t be foolish. You’ll end up like the rest - dead.”

“You can’t be sure of that,” Aimma said, in a stern voice. “We have to find those who are injured.”

“Why?” Serra stood and turned away from the group. “Can’t you see with your eyes? The castle is destroyed, your King is dead, goblins are slicing down elves like wheat, a demon-scorpion Queen is leading the siege, and worst of all, the shadow reapers.”

“Shadow reapers?” asked Finkle.

“Xenduri clerics who gave up their souls to be possessed by demons.” Serra turned back around. “They can’t die, and once they are summoned to kill you, they will not stop.”

Aimma clutched her arms to her chest. “There must be something we can do.”

“We go to Salvat,” Odder said, under his breath.

Serra lifted her brow. “What did you say?”

“The wizard Salvat.” Odder stood and stared at the once great House of Elestus. Anger ripped at his insides. “They will pay for this. I will break this curse, rescue Destin, and avenge the King’s death. The King said the wizard Salvat would help me, and this is where I need to go.”

Serra sat back down and skipped another rock across the smooth water.

Finkle stood. “You’re insane! But revenge boils underneath my skin. The gnomes do know how to hide. Alright laddy, I’m with ya.”

Aimma rubbed her eyes and cleared her throat. “The sorceress ordered me to take care of you. Your poison continues to spread. I suppose it’s my duty to stay by your side.”

Odder said in a faint voice, “Thanks, and you, Serra? Will you help?”

“Oh no. This isn’t my war.”

“Look around,” said Odder. “The goblins have seized Elestus. For all we know, the other Houses have fallen as well.”

“We’re all in this war missy,” said Finkle

“Again, not my war,” Serra blustered. “I have my own fight. Besides, do you even know where this wizard lives?

“Uh, Finkle?” Odder cleared his throat. “Do you know where to find Salvat?”

Finkle fidgeted his vest. “The Marshlands to the south, I believe.”

“No.” Serra kicked dirt into the lake. “Salvat’s domain is east of the Marshlands and just north of Villamari. It’s dangerous traveling.”

“Then guide us,” said Aimma.

Serra watched the fire and smoke billowing over the township.

Odder placed his markings in front of her. “I don’t have much time and if this disaster is an example of what’s to come, then the wizard Salvat maybe our only hope. Surely, you have someone worth saving?”

She sighed and closed her eyes. After a moment, she stood. “Fine. I have a portal point close to his domain.”

She placed her satchel on the ground. “Cipera adme rodent hole.” The satchel stretched open. “After you.”

“Wait,” Aimma whispered to Odder. “I know we asked for her help but can we trust her?”

“Do you have a choice?” Serra confronted Aimma, standing in her face. “If I wanted you dead, I would have already killed you.”

“Makes sense to me.” Finkle held his fez and jumped in. “Weeee…”

Aimma sneered and stood her ground. “How do we know this isn’t a trap? You’re a dark elf after all. Evil flows through your veins.”

Serra moved in closer. “I choose who I am and what I do. Not my blood.”

“Stop it!” Odder pushed them apart. “Too many lives have been lost today.” He gave Aimma an unyielding glare. “You can stay, but I’m going.”

Aimma bit her lip and turned away.

“Let’s stop wasting time,” Serra said pointing at the satchel. “Healer?”

Aimma took a second to give Serra the eye and then jumped.

“Do not trust her,” said Odder’s inner voice.

And where were you during the attack, Odder answered. It was rare that he responded to his inner doubts.

Odder relaxed his posture and leaned toward Serra. “Can I trust you?”

She leaned in and winked. “This time.”

He smiled, stepped forward, and took the leap.