Embers of the Dead

Alina's hands felt like they belonged to someone else as they shuffled the deck of cards. They were too stiff, too hollow, like they had been drained of warmth and life. Yet, her mind—though foggy, cloudy, and strained—still functioned in fragments, able to recall the games she once played as a child. The soft flick of the cards felt surreal as the strange woman, Dr. Thorne, sat across from her, her intense gaze unwavering.

"Let's begin with a simple game of concentration," Dr. Thorne said, her voice smooth but calculated, like she was already measuring Alina's every move. "You'll have to remember the placement of the cards and match them. Try to focus."

Alina nodded, though she was unsure if she truly could focus anymore. She felt like something inside her had been shattered—a piece of herself, lost to the void. The cards in front of her seemed distant, too far away, as if her vision couldn't quite connect with the world around her. But she managed, flipping the cards, trying to match them.

At first, her brain struggled. She found herself flipping the wrong cards in a rush to hurry through it. The sense of frustration mounted as her memory became more and more unreliable. What should have been a simple task felt like an impossible challenge.

Dr. Thorne didn't show any visible disappointment. Instead, she simply observed, her sharp eyes never leaving Alina. After a few moments, Alina completed the game—barely. She wasn't sure how she had done it. She wasn't sure how much she had forgotten along the way.

"You've lost," Dr. Thorne said, her tone even, "but that's expected. Concentration isn't something that comes easily in your current state. Let's move on." She moved the cards aside, unfazed.

Alina breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn't failed the test entirely—though she wasn't sure if the outcome had mattered to Dr. Thorne at all.

"I'll now introduce something more complicated," Dr. Thorne said. "We'll play solitaire. It requires a bit more strategy, foresight. Can you handle that?"

Alina hesitated but nodded. She had played solitaire before. It was a game of patience and foresight, just the kind of thing her mother had always insisted on to improve her focus when she was young. But now, in this unfamiliar body, she was unsure if she could remember the proper moves.

The setup was easy enough, but as she began, it quickly became clear how difficult the game had become. Her mind jumped from thought to thought, never able to focus on one idea long enough. Her hands trembled as she picked up each card, her nerves unsettled. She tried to slow her breathing, but it only made the task feel even more insurmountable.

Dr. Thorne watched quietly, not offering any help or encouragement.

Alina's movements became mechanical, each card placed with deliberate uncertainty. In the end, the game remained unfinished, the piles of cards scattered in disarray.

"Not surprising," Dr. Thorne said, though there was a hint of something like approval in her tone. "You're not where you were, but your mind still functions. That's the important thing."

Alina swallowed, wondering how far from "normal" she had drifted. She wanted to argue that she wasn't fine, but something about Dr. Thorne's presence made it difficult to voice her fears.

"Now," Dr. Thorne said, her voice cutting through the quiet room, "let's test your strategic thinking. I want to see how well you understand a game like poker. It's not just about luck—it's about bluffing, deception, and observation. Think carefully."

Poker. Alina had played it once or twice, but in her current state, the rules felt distant. It was as if the entire game was in a language she didn't understand anymore. Still, she took the cards, trying to remember the values and strategies, the key to winning.

But her mind refused to cooperate. She didn't remember the signs of a good hand. She couldn't quite figure out how to read the woman across from her. Every decision felt like a misstep. And when the game ended, her pile of chips was gone, her hand weak and unconvincing.

"I've seen enough," Dr. Thorne finally said, leaning back in her chair, studying Alina closely. "You're not performing at the level you once did. But that's not surprising."

Alina's heart sank. She feared the worst. "What... what happens now?"

Dr. Thorne's lips curled into a slight smile, though there was no warmth in it. "I expected more confusion. More instability. But you've still processed the games, even if you haven't won. Your memory, your cognitive functions, are still intact. That's... significant."

Alina's chest tightened as she processed the words. She wasn't completely broken. Not yet.

Dr. Thorne's smile deepened, and she stood, moving toward a nearby shelf. "You're capable of more than most of the subjects I've worked with. That's why I'm going to help you. I'll guide you. But in the end, you'll have to fix yourself. I'll just be here to assist you. You'll decide what you want to become."

Alina blinked, absorbing the weight of the statement. "What... what do you mean?"

"You're not the first to be... reanimated," Dr. Thorne said, her voice cold, almost detached. "But you are the first I've seen with the ability to think clearly after death. The first one who has kept some semblance of their mind intact. You'll have to decide what you want to become. Do you want to look like you did before? Or do you want to become something more? Stronger?"

Alina stared at her, confused but also intrigued. "What... would you suggest?"

"If I could look like anything," Dr. Thorne mused, "I'd shed the limitations of flesh entirely. But you... You must decide what you need. You're the architect of your own future, Alina."

Alina's mind spun as the weight of the words settled into her consciousness. She was being given a choice—not just of survival, but of becoming something different. Something new.

"Is that what you've done?" Alina asked quietly. "Changed yourself?"

Dr. Thorne's eyes flickered, and she nodded. "I've enhanced my body, yes. But you're not me. This is your path."

Alina nodded, feeling the enormity of her situation. She was a corpse, but still... alive. But alive in a way that was different. How would she ever find peace in this body?

"I think we need to discuss what I can teach you next," Dr. Thorne said, moving back to the table, her voice once again clinical. "We will start with the basics. How to restore yourself—your body and mind. Let's talk about biology. Healing. Magic. And how to make your new body a useful tool. But it will be you who decides what the final product will look like."