Chapter 3

A New Love.

Sarina awoke, still wrapped in Guān’s leanly muscular arms. Her head rested against his broad shoulder, and her toned ass pressed hard against Guān’s groin. Sarina could feel Guān’s enormously long tool throbbing along her slit and on her clitoris. She was wet and eager to go again, so she eased her way higher before positioning her Master’s lengthy tool at her entrance and gliding back down. Sarina bit her bottom lip to prevent her delighted moan as Guān’s dick lodged in her cervix.

“Greedy minx,” Guān purred into Sarina’s ear as his right hand cupped her breast and his thumb strummed her engorged nipple. He rocked his hips, easing his cock out of Sarina’s cervical canal and then back in again.

“Only for you, Master Guān,” Sarina panted. “Only for you.” Sarina refused to think about what Dawid had said—that she needed to redeem herself by giving birth to eighteen male children to the eighteen remaining Knights of the Light to make up for the eighteen stab wounds into her mother’s body. She refused because it seemed impossible.

Harvester Michael told her she’d been regressed in age from forty-one to eighteen, but even so, having a child every eighteen months, which seemed the least amount of time between them, meant it’d be twenty-five years before she was ready to give herself to the last Master. That would make her forty-three-plus years old, and getting pregnant at that age seemed unlikely even if the final Defender found her forty-three-year-old face and body attractive enough to make love to her.

However, that was a problem for a later time, a later lifetime, really. Now was for giving herself wholeheartedly to Guān. “Fuck me, Master!” Sarina panted as her pussy frothed, eager to be filled with Meester Guān’s sperm and to cum as he did.

Guān groaned deep in his chest as his lengthy cock spasmed, expanded, and jettisoned its load into Sarina’s tightly gripping pussy. Sarina squealed as her Master filled her womb, her orgasm echoing off the stone walls and high ceilings of Guān’s room. If she hadn’t already been pregnant, Sarina would have been after this morning.

Guān held his love close to him until his deflating dick fell from her vagina. Copious amounts of cum followed. Guān grimaced when he felt it pouring over his balls, but he would not have swapped the feeling for the world. He hugged Sarina before asking, “Shall we summon some breakfast?”

Sarina’s stomach gurgled in response, so, laughing, Guān reached over and used the rope pull. The door immediately opened, and a male slave brought in a plate-covered tray. He placed it on the small table beside the bed, bowed and left.

“The male slaves are always erect,” Sarina observed. The one who brings my meals always is, and the ones who serve in the sitting room and the communal bath always are. What’s with that?”

“The male slaves are given a combined pill that makes them temporarily sterile and creates their erections when they start their shift,” Guān explained. “It is to ensure they’re readily available for the female slaves to use, and if there are any off-world women about, it means they can have their needs met without worrying about getting pregnant.”

“The male slaves use the female ones when they want to?” Sarina asked. That thought angered her.

Guān laughed. “No, Sarina. Any male who takes or tries to take a woman without her consent is immediately castrated and sent to the slave markets. That would hold true even if it were one of The Defenders. However, if a female requires sex from a male slave, or if a visitor to the Mansion wants to use a male slave, then they’re obliged to perform. Hence, the chemical reagent ensures they’re constantly ready to perform. The rings they wear around their shafts and balls serve a similar purpose. The ones on the slaves’ balls make it difficult for them to cum; the ones on their shafts keeps them rigid.”

“Shouldn’t it be wrong either way?” Sarina asked. “If it’s wrong for a man to take a woman without her consent, then surely it’s also wrong for a woman to copulate with an unwilling male?”

“The weapon that The Marshal unleashed not only rendered all women on Aetheria impotent, it heightened their sexual desires by an order of magnitude. You’ve surely noticed that your slaves indulge in regular sex not only with you but also with each other and many of the male slaves?”

Sarina nodded.

Guān frowned and added, “Without the slaves’ requirement to service the women on demand, we would have a Mansion full of sexually frustrated women. Which is somewhere this Master would not wish to live!” Guān considered what else Sarina needed to know and added, “The weapon rendered many of the female animals on Aetheria sterile as well. Luckily, it seems that neither the domesticated work animals nor the food ones are affected, so at least we’re in no danger of dying of starvation or having to work out how to get the broken-down machines working again to transport everything around.”

Guān and Sarina ate at the small table, as Guān explained more of Aetheria’s current history, which only stretched back a hundred years to The Marshal’s sudden, unexpected appearance. The Marshal had used his weapon to devastating effect over the first three months after his initial attack. He’d infiltrated his men into the various weapons and manufacturing facilities across Aetheria, and on his signal, they’d destroyed almost all of them. It wouldn’t be until several months had passed that the survivors realised the women were no longer becoming pregnant.

Only the few Knights and Defenders who hadn’t been in the major cities when The Marshal unleashed his weapon and attacks survived the initial onslaught. Kingsholme was one of only three bastions that survived The Marshal’s first attacks. The other two, Queensholme and King’s Rest, fell within ten years, forcing the remaining Knights, Defenders, and Guardians to fall back to Kingsholme. The Guardians had brought the remaining candidates to Kingsholme, but they created a new path to the training grounds, and the Guardians returned to their training camp.

From there, The Defenders fought a war not to reclaim the ground lost to The Marshal, but solely to try to hold what they still had. It was a war they were slowly losing, with more and more of Aetheria falling under The Marshal’s thrall every year. Losing towns and villages that saw the war’s progress and voluntarily joined what they thought would be the winning side exacerbated the Defenders’ problems and hastened their retreat to Kingsholme.

The Knights of the Light and The Defenders, from whom The Knights are promoted, were once two separate but cooperating entities. But the deaths of so many Knights and Defenders had removed the distinction so that now, to be a Defender was to be a Knight. However, the remaining Knights, with the exception of Dawid, Guān, and Andreas, knew they did not match their predecessors in power or knowledge. Still, it was better for the remaining free people to know that eighteen Knights of the Light remained than to think all but three had been lost.

There was still hope because even before the war, Dawid was the Eldest and most powerful Knight of the Light with Guān as his Second. Andreas had been the newest Knight promoted from The Defenders, but with the other’s deaths, he was now number three in The Order.

Sarina soaked this information up like a sponge. She considered what her Master had told her, wonderingly saying, “Wait. The war with the Marshal has been raging for more than one hundred years? Meester Guān, you do not appear to be more than thirty-five, and I would not have put Dawid’s age past forty. However, Andreas seems like a boy, barely in his twenties, despite his confident demeanour and self-assurance.”

Guān grinned, “Lady Sarina, next meurth I will turn one hundred-and-fifty-one yeurs old. Dawid is almost two hundred yeurs, and young Andreas, as you name him, is one hundred-and-twenty-five.”

The newly intimate pair finished their meal, then Guān sighed regretfully and said, “My Lady Sarina, as much as I would like to dally here with you, I must attend to my duties. Planning for the defence of Mazunte, as well as the attacks on Valle de Bravo and Zihuatanejo, and training my soldiers to complete these tasks, must take precedence.”

“I understand, Master,” Sarina said, smiling. “Will I see you tonight?”

“If I may come to your rooms and stay the rest of the night, then yes. But it might be quite late.”

“You may,” Sarina agreed happily. “Shall I tell my overnight companions not to attend me?”

“No,” Guān replied. “If something comes up, I may not be able to come at all, and I’d rather you had company than sleep alone.”

“I don’t mind sleeping alone,” Sarina pointed out.

Guān looked at his beloved evenly before sighing and admitting. “Your slaves are also your last line of defence. If an assassin or worse, an invasion by The Marshal occurs, they will sacrifice their lives to ensure you escape unharmed.”

“Why would an assassin target me?” Sarina gasped, shocked by Guān’s assertion.

“Because you carry the rebirth of The Defenders and Knights,” Guān explained. “When The Marshal discovers that more have been born, he will try to kill the source. The mother. You.”

“Only I carry the gene or spark, or whatever you call it?” Sarina asked.

“So far,” Guān answered. “Nearly ninety years of harvesting souls from throughout the universe, and you’re the first to have the spark. I can guarantee that the harvesters are scouring Earth for more like you, though.”

“They’ll harvest the living if they find one?” Sarina asked, fearful for all women on Earth.

Guān shook his head. “One of the secrets we hold is that we do not harvest bodies. Instead, the harvesters take enough cells to generate a clone. Cells from living beings don’t create viable clones because we cannot harvest the soul to reanimate them. The same applies to people like your mother; if they’ve been dead for too long, their soul has already departed and cannot be used to create the new person.”

“I’m a clone?” Sarina gasped, feigning shock because she recalled her conversation with Harvester Michael.

Guān chuckled. “Harvester Michael told me about your conversation. He only said he’d accidentally told you that you were a clone. However, I’m aware that Commander Paolo’s report was falsified. Don’t worry, though, because we have his original report. The harvester viewed the official one sent to the authorities in Bernal. Officially, you died in the raid.”

“I feel pretty good for someone who’s died three times,” Sarina quipped.

Guān grinned and then frowned. “That reminds me. Harvester Michael will have sent his report to the Bishops. We’re sure to receive an emissary from them, requesting an audience with you. I cannot be helped, Sarina, and I need you to trust me on this—answer every question thoroughly and truthfully, without equivocation. The Bishops are ecstatic that a breeder with the spark has been found, but they will want to investigate your apparent ability to resurrect after death.”

“Do I have anything to fear?” Sarina queried.

“Only if the spark within you dies. If it does, the Bishops may wish to test whether you can still resurrect after you’re dead, and if doing so will reignite the spark.

Sarina nodded. The spark, or whatever it was that these Aetherians insisted she carried, wasn’t something Sarina had any control over, nor was her seeming ability to come back to life after dying, with her body wholly restored to its state before she died. She returned Guān’s kiss and watched him leave before wondering, ‘Do I just leave this room and go back to mine? I’m unsure what to do.’ Sarina internally shrugged and used the rope pull.

A male slave immediately attended her, and after she’d explained her predicament, he amusedly chuffed and guided her to her rooms, where Elsa and Ella waited. Elsa and Ella bombarded Sarina with questions as they completed Sarina’s morning ablutions and bath. The young women wanted every salacious detail, and complained when Sarina wouldn’t elaborate. However, it was all in good fun, and Sarina made her morning appointment with Ragel in time.

Ragel spent the hour ingraining the previous lesson, and by its end, Sarina’s muscles trembled with the strain, but she felt thrilled and excited by her progress. Ragel bowed and returned to her barracks for morning roll call. Sarina followed Ella and Elsa to the communal bath on the second floor, where they washed and massaged her before returning Sarina to her room.

A Change of Plans.

Sarina was playing stones with Andie and Eloise in the sitting room when Guān came to fetch her. He asked formally, “Lady Sarina Celeste Deschanel, are you sure you wish to wear the Master’s mark on your body?”

“Yes, Meester Guān,” Sarina replied equally formally.

Guān addressed Andie and Eloise, “Gather the others and meet us in the Formal Room.”

In the Formal Room, official decrees, wedding announcements, death notices, and orders affecting all Mansion inhabitants were issued or carried out. Sarina had never been inside that room before. She followed her Master into the room and then stood where he instructed, facing the sixteen other Masters, as Master Dawid didn’t return for the ceremony. Guān smiled reassuringly at her before joining them.

He waited until Sarina’s six handmaidens and three regular male slaves entered the room before saying, “We are gathered today to witness The Lady Sarina Celeste Deschanel giving herself, heart and soul, to The Defenders of the Realm and The Knights of The Light. Does anyone wish to speak against her or question her devotion?”

The room was silent, but Sarina could see pleased and expectant smiles breaking out amongst everyone in the room. Commanders Paolo and Petrus seemed especially happy, as did her companions.

“Bishop Salvatore has travelled from Bernal to preside over this ceremony. Bishop Salvatore, the room is yours.”

Bishop Salvatore moved from the left wall, where he’d been observing and listening. It was readily apparent that the Mansion’s inhabitants universally adored the young Earth woman. The Mansion’s slaves seemed especially taken with her, as were the Masters, of course. Each Master eagerly anticipated his time with the gorgeous Lady.

A brazier was brought out and placed to the Bishop’s side, within easy reach. The Bishop removed a brand with a stylised letter ‘M’ and placed it in the brazier’s burning coals. Bishop Salvatore remained silent, gazing over the crowd’s heads beatifically until the branding iron glowed bright red.

When it was, Bishop Salvatore smiled and lowered his gaze so that he appeared to look at everyone before him. “Citizens of the Mansion, rejoice. Today, we welcome Lady Sarina Celeste Deschanel into our group. Of her own free will, Sarina has chosen to wear her Masters’ mark, showing her eternal devotion to them and, through them, to you and the Mansion. Sarina Deschanel, step forward.”

Trembling slightly because of her fear of the pain being branded would cause, Sarina moved to stand before the Bishop.

“Lady Sarina Celeste Deschanel,” Bishop Salvatore intoned. “Do you willingly accept your Masters’ mark?” Sarina nodded, but the Bishop smiled and gently encouraged, “You have to say it out loud.”

Sarina took a calming breath before firmly saying, “I willingly accept my Masters’ mark to show my loyalty to them, the Mansion, and its inhabitants.”

“Indicate where you’d like to be marked, child,” Bishop Salvatore stated.

“On my left chest above my breast, and on my right buttock,” Sarina replied, indicating the relevant spots.

“Try to be brave, child,” Bishop Salvatore encouragingly whispered. “But don’t be ashamed to scream if you need to. There is no shame in showing pain, not in this setting.”

The Bishop took the branding iron, and Sarina locked her arms together behind her back, squared her shoulders, and thrust her impressive 34C breasts forward. Bishop Salvatore smiled encouragingly before pressing the red-hot iron firmly against the skin above Sarina’s left breast. Sarina hissed but didn’t cry out even though tears poured from her eyes liberally.

Bishop Salvatore returned the branding iron to the brazier as Sarina turned and bent, offering her divine bottom to the Bishop and her Masters. Bishop Salvatore removed the iron from the brazier and branded Sarina’s right ass cheek. He nodded approvingly when all Sarina did was hiss again. “Well done, child,” he said. “Your Masters are proud of you. That I can see for sure.”

Sarina straightened and turned to face the Bishop and her Masters. Her cheeks were wet with tears, but Sarina refused to cry. Bishop Salvatore smiled, glad of Sarina’s staunchness, before formally saying, “Welcome to the Mansion, Lady Sarina Deschanel. Your marks show the world where you belong, and know that we all belong to you.”

“Thank you, Bishop Salvatore,” Sarina said softly but firmly, barely loud enough for those gathered to hear. “I’m glad I belong to the Mansion and that the Mansion and its inhabitants belong to me.”

Bishop Salvatore turned to the gathered citizens and said, “Masters, ladies and gentlemen, and slaves, The Lady Sarina Deschanel, citizen of the Mansion for now and forever more. All hail The Defenders. May they live to protect us forever.”

“All hail the Bishops,” the Masters responded. “The bearers and bringers of The Light to all people and those who are most feared by The Dark.”

Bishop Salvatore leaned forward and spoke quietly to Sarina. “My Lady, may I have some of your time tomorrow?”

“Of course, Bishop Salvatore,” Sarina replied. “If I’m not in the sitting room with the roaring fire on the right wall, I’ll be in my rooms. You’re welcome to visit me there, or, of course, you may send a slave to fetch me, and I will meet you anywhere you require me to.”

“The sitting room will work just fine, Sarina. If you’re not there, I will send a slave to find you.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Sir,” Sarina said before letting her companions drag her back to her rooms.

They got her into a bath full of healing gel and carefully splashed the water over her burns. The brands had almost healed when Guān coughed outside her bathroom door, announcing his presence. “Lady Sarina, may I enter?” Guān asked politely.

“You’ve seen me naked everywhere else, Meester Guān,” Sarina giggled. “Why not in the bath?”

“Why not indeed?” Guān chuckled as he moved to stand beside the tub. ‘Tub’ was a bit of a misnomer for a sunken bath that could easily seat four. Sarina sat in it with Andie and Eloise, although it was almost time for Elsa and Ella to take over.

Guān happily observed that Sarina’s burns were already healing in the gel-infused water. However, he knew they still burned and hurt quite a lot. Guān clapped his hands together, and his healing light ignited, surrounding his hands. “May I?” He asked.

“Of course,” Sarina accepted.

Guān lay his hands on Sarina’s head, and his light flowed down Sarina’s body and into the water. Sarina, Andie, and Eloise gasped as the healing power spread through their bodies. But suddenly, Sarina bucked as if hit by lightning. Her entire body stiffened into a rigour before it thrashed as if in pain or receiving electrical shocks.

Death Becomes Her.

Panicking, Guān released his light, but Sarina sagged into the water, unconscious or worse. Guān’s hand lit up again as he probed her body. “Gone!” He exclaimed. “Like in the steam room. Her soul has gone. She’s dead!”

Eloise, sobbing, leapt out of the water. She yanked the rope to summon a slave and screamed at him to fetch Harvester Michael. “Fetch Bishop Salvatore, too,” Guān yelled at the slave’s swiftly departing back. He lifted Sarina out of the bath and carried her lifeless body to her bed. He used his healing light to probe her body again, but found no returning pulse from hers. Guān felt for a heartbeat, but couldn’t find one.

“I don’t understand,” Guān despaired. “I channel The Light when I heal. Unless Sarina is of The Dark, it cannot harm her. But we know she cannot be of The Dark because she’s not Aetherian.”

Harvester Michael bustled into the room, quickly followed by Bishop Salvatore. “What happened?” the harvester queried. Guān quickly explained as Harvester Michael took out his scanner and passed it over Sarina’s prone body. “Nothing!” the harvester gasped. “She’s dead.” He waved the scanner again before groaning, “She was pregnant, gestation only last night. The child is lost, too.”

“This cannot be,” The Bishop said despairingly. “Surely, the spark to create Defenders cannot be so easily extinguished!”

Bishop Salvatore clasped his hands together, similarly to how Meester Guān did. A kindred light to Guān’s healing one surrounded his hands. He stretched them towards Sarina, but before he could touch her, Sarina sat up and said, “I’m pretty thirsty. May I have some water?” She looked around at Guān’s and her companion’s weeping faces. Then she saw the harvester and the Bishop. “Let me guess. I died again, didn’t I?”

The harvester waved his scanner across Sarina’s body even though the result was apparent—Sarina was wholly returned to perfect health. The burns from the branding irons were gone, and her skin and body were absolutely pristine. Sarina looked down and frowned. “Well, that’s damned inconvenient,” she muttered. “Don’t tell me that I’m going to need them redone every time I die?”

“What is the last thing you remember, Lady Sarina?” Bishop Salvatore asked.

“You branding my bottom,” Sarina stated after thinking for a bit. “Why, what happened?”

“I used my healing powers to heal your burns, which caused you to convulse and go into shock. Then, like someone turning off a light, you passed on.”

“Died, you mean?”

“Yes,” Guān admitted.

“Seems like your healing powers cause my regeneration to restart,” Sarina mused. “But that doesn’t explain what happened ... err...,” she remembered that The Bishop was in the room and shut up.

“The Bishop has our report and the official one, Sarina,” Guān said smilingly.

“Oh, okay,” Sarina said. “It makes sense that your healing powers somehow reset my regeneration back to the beginning because it happened after you used them both times. But that doesn’t explain when I died from hitting my head on that rock in the desert and returned a few minutes later without a mark.”

“The light’s healing powers cannot harm you unless you belong to The Dark,” Bishop Salvatore explained, his heart thumping with fear. “May I place my Light on you and gauge your reaction?”

“Of course,” Sarina replied and then giggled. “What’s the worst that can happen? I die and resurrect again?”

“Or a demon leaps from you and attacks us,” The Bishop replied evenly.

“Oh, shit,” Sarina answered. “Get everyone out of here except for you and me.”

“And me,” Meester Guān said firmly. “If a demon leaps from your body, Bishop Salvatore will need my help to send it back to Hell.”

“Do it!” Sarina hissed after Andie, Eloise, Harvester Michael, and the male slave had left.

Bishop Salvatore prayed before clasping his hands and forming his version of The Healing Light. Sarina panted nervously but held still as The Bishop’s hands touched her head. “How does that feel, Sarina?” Bishop Salvatore asked.

“Pleasant,” Sarina said dreamily. “Like I’m surrounded by a being who loves me intensely. The being wants me to be safe, happy, and warm. Wait, it’s talking to me.” Sarina’s voice became spectral and hollow. “The Spark that this one carries is Aetheria’s future. Through her will come the rebirth of the one true King. Protect her at all costs. Nothing comes before her safety.” Sarina grinned happily before saying, “Aww, isn’t that sweet? The Light wants me to be safe.” She slumped back, unconscious.

Fearing the worst, Guān felt for a pulse. He found one and breathed a sigh of relief. Sarina’s eyes flickered open, and she asked, “All good? No demons? I didn’t die again?”

“All is well,” Bishop Salvatore rasped. He was on the verge of tears. Bishop Salvatore’s faith had been profoundly tested by The Marshal’s seemingly unstoppable advance across Aetheria. He prayed to The Light daily but received no response. Bishop Salvatore watched as village after village, and town after town, succumbed to The Marshal, with no answer to his prayers for The Light to intervene. He had heard of, and at times witnessed, the Knights’ many strongholds falling, and seen those who remained forced to retreat to Kingsholme.

Yet here today, when everything appeared to have failed and Aetheria’s last hope had been extinguished, his faith was completely restored by the voice of a petite Earth woman who shouldn’t even have known about The Light, let alone felt It and communicated with It.

“Do we have to redo the branding ceremony?” Sarina queried. “I want to wear your mark, Master. But it would be weird to go through the entire ceremony a second time.”

Guān smiled before saying, “I can redraw your brands without needing the iron. It won’t hurt as much, either.”

“Do it,” Sarian demanded.

“What colour do you want them drawn in?”

“What is your favourite colour, Master?” Sarina asked.

“Red, but it fades too quickly. I’d suggest dark green because that colour lasts the longest.”

“Dark green it is,” Sarina agreed, getting off the bed and standing before Guān.

Meester Guān snapped his fingers, and the tip of his index finger glowed with light. He concentrated, and the light’s intensity magnified until it was painful to look at. Guān smiled at Sarina before drawing a perfect copy of the ‘M’ the branding iron had made. Guān’s mark hurt some, but not enough to make Sarina wince, let alone gasp. She turned and presented her bottom, where Guān repeated the Master’s brand.

“Thank you, Master,” Sarina said.

Guān encouraged Sarina to return to the tub, and then he took the loofah from the side and carefully washed the new marks on his beloved’s body, ensuring they were liberally coated with the healing gel-infused water. Bishop Salvatore sat on the stool Sarina typically sat on when her companions did her hair and moisturised her body. Sarina felt strange sitting naked in a bath while a clergyman watched, but put it aside as a custom Aetheria had.

That was until Bishop Salvatore laughed and said, “I don’t recall ever ministering to someone while they were taking a bath before.” He laughed again before adding, “However, it’s also refreshing to be asked to share in something so intimate.” The Bishop hesitated before asking, “Do you mind if I ask some questions while we’re here?”

“Ask away, Bishop Salvatore,” Sarina replied. “If it would make you feel more comfortable, I can wrap a towel around myself or get into bed.” Sarina didn’t know, but she suspected a Roman Catholic priest, which Bishop Salvatore resembled, wouldn’t feel comfortable around a naked woman. Especially given their vows of chastity.

“Your nakedness doesn’t bother me, child,” Bishop Salvatore laughingly explained. “It was only an observation, not an expression of discomfort. Ministering to the slaves and helping them adapt to their new stations is one of my primary duties.” The Bishop thought momentarily before asking, “You said that The Light spoke to you. Are you saying that The Light is a person or a being?”

“I did?” Sarina asked confusedly. “What did I say it said?”

“That through you, the one true King will be reborn.”

“I will give birth to the one true King?” Sarina queried.

“That would be the obvious interpretation,” Bishop Salvatore agreed. “However, it’s not the literal interpretation. If the pronouncement is taken literally, then you only said that He would come through you, which could mean you discover Him, or that one of your offspring will impregnate someone who will give birth to Him or give birth to Him themselves.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Sarina answered. “It could be taken that way, too. What do you think is the correct interpretation?”

“Honestly, I have no idea,” Bishop Salvatore chuckled. “I believe the scholars who wrote The Tenets of The Light were purposefully vague because they didn’t know either. All I know is that each individual must establish their own relationship with The Light and that there is no right or wrong way to create that relationship.”

“Did you come to Kingsholme solely to perform my branding ceremony, Bishop Salvatore?” Sarina asked insightfully.

The Bishop roared with laughter before turning to Guān, “Meester Guān, you warned me that The Lady would see through any subterfuge. You were right!” He turned back to Sarina. “No. Myself and my fellow Bishops are intrigued by your ability to resurrect, seemingly unharmed by whatever caused your death.

“According to Harvester Michael’s report, and confirmed by The Defenders, you were emaciated and near death from starvation. Weakened by your starvation, you develop Lentekoors hoofvak. Then, when Meester Guān tried to heal you with The Light, you died. But inexplicably, around five minutes later, you ‘rise from the dead’ in perfect health, with all symptoms that you were starving erased.