Swish.

The spear shot forward, catching the beast right under its massive head. With a furious roar, the bear-like creature reared back on its hind legs, slashing at the spear still lodged in its flesh. The spear tore a large gash and was dislodged from its body. A second later, an arrow flew and pierced the beast’s thick, furry neck. The bear growled angrily and dashed towards the spearman. The spearman kept his distance and delivered a stab after stab to keep the beast at bay.

I stayed back, gripping my stick like it could somehow keep me safe. Not a chance I’m diving into that. One swipe from that beast, and I’d be dead ten times over.

The fight continued, the beast’s eyes red with fury as it charged at the spearman, undeterred by the dozen arrows embedded in its thick hide, leaking thick blood from dozens of small wounds. Each stab and pierce seemed like a mere bee sting, fueling its single-minded rage.

As the spear once again pierced its flesh, something changed - this time, it didn’t back away. Instead, it moved forward, letting the spear pierce its shoulder all the way through and advanced at the man. He didn’t let go and instead pushed the shaft into the ground with all his strength, trying to pin it without losing his weapon. Using the opportunity, the woman shot an arrow straight at the beast’s head. It pierced deep into the soft flesh of its maw, but didn’t manage to stop it.

The beast snarled, undeterred by the spear lodged in its shoulder, and lunged forward. With a vicious swipe, its claws tore through the man’s leg. He staggered back, a scream ripped from his throat as blood sprayed from the wound. His leg buckled, exposing a glimpse of bone through the torn flesh, and he crashed to the ground in a sickening thud. He lay there, defenseless, as the beast loomed over him.

Seeing this scene, I reacted in reflex and sprang forward, gripping my stick firmly. I only realized halfway in that I’m doing something really stupid—confronting this huge monster with just a twig—but I couldn’t just watch someone die in front of my eyes without doing anything.

The beast opened its maw, baring its large, sharp fangs—Crack—an arrow piercing its mouth broke.

A moment before it could bite down on the man’s neck, I slammed my stick on its head with full force. The full effect of the strike was soon visible—an annoyed growl.

The strike didn’t do any damage, but I did manage to divert its attention to me. The beast looked my way and swung its claws at me as if to get rid of an annoying fly.

I jumped backwards with all the strength my legs could muster, half-stumbling, half-falling—and landed on my butt.

Before the beast could finish either of us off, the woman leaped onto its back, a dagger gripped tightly in her hand. She wrapped herself around its massive head, plunging the blade deep into its red eye socket. It twitched, shuddered, and then fell motionless.

A sudden silence replaced the chaos of moments before. Only ragged breaths and pained grunts could be heard.

I tried to process what just happened, but before I could gather my thoughts, I was interrupted by a panicked scream, “Darling! Please stay with me! No... No… This can’t be.” A frightened woman was kneeling next to the wounded spearman. No way, he can’t be dead, right?

I quickly approached to take a look and saw the issue—the man was unconscious, and rhythmic spurts of bright red blood sprayed from the wound on his leg.

Damn, that’s an arterial injury. We have to stop the bleeding right now! My mind raced. Think. Focus.

Heart pounding, I sprinted back to my fire and grabbed a length of cordage and a stick. When I returned, the woman was sobbing over him, whispering something about not leaving her. I ignored her words and said firmly, “Snap out of it! We need to stop the bleeding!” She looked up at me, confusion and grief in her eyes.

I crouched beside him, wrapping the cord tightly around his leg. Okay, okay—tie the knot, stick goes here, I fumbled through the motions, tightening with shaky hands. This better hold. Come on, work! Am I doing this right? Is the string gonna snap?

I tightened the improvised tourniquet as much as I could, but blood still flowed from the wound. Did I do something wrong? This should work right?

More blood flowed out, but after a few seconds, it stopped.

I sighed with relief and looked at the woman in front of me.

“I-Is he going to be alright?” the woman asked in a trembling voice.

Shit, that’s actually a good question. I lowered my head to his mouth and checked if he’s breathing. He is. Good. But now what? Normally, you’d apply a tourniquet and wait for emergency services. Sure, it’s the future, but I doubt this guy has a platinum Trauma Team policy that’ll get him an airlift out of here.

The frightened look on her face was begging me for answers, so I told her the honest truth, “I’m afraid this will only buy him some time… Maybe an hour?”

Her face cycled through a whirlwind of emotions—panic, hope, determination—before finally settling on grim resolve. “An hour... That’s enough. I think I can make it.” She looked down at her husband, her gaze fierce and almost desperate, as though memorizing his face. Then, without warning, she sprang to her feet. “Stay with him. Keep him alive. I’ll be back.”

“Wait! Where are you going?!” I blurted out, completely thrown off. She’s just leaving him?

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“To get medicine!” she shouted back and continued running—and she’s gone.

I stayed crouched, gripping the tourniquet firmly. Don’t let go. This thing could unravel any second, I reminded myself, knowing an improvised tourniquet like this could easily fail if I didn’t keep it tight. My thoughts buzzed with leftover adrenaline from the fight, making my pulse pound in my ears, but the initial rush was wearing off, replaced by a more unsettling calm.

I glanced at the man lying there. This guy had just saved my life—there was no denying that. Without him, that beast would’ve shredded me in seconds. But, I thought, weren’t they trying to rob me? I hadn’t missed the threatening vibes when we first met. It wasn’t like they’d outright declared, “Hey, we’re robbing you,” but it was clear enough. Then again, did that matter now? When faced with a monster, did it change things? I never really got into philosophy, so all this moral gray area stuff just felt like noise.

Part of me—some dark, fearful corner—wondered what would happen if he survived. Would they come after me again? Or worse, if he didn’t make it, would she blame me? I caught myself eyeing the spear still buried in the beast’s body. What if I took it now, just in case? I imagined myself, gripping the spear, piercing the woman’s heart, while she tends to the man's injuries. I would get rid of all the threats, all my enemies with a single thrust of a spear. But then I shook my head, ashamed of my own thoughts. No, I thought. I can’t let myself go there. I can’t just become some ruthless survivor. I want to believe in people. They gave me a chance against that monster. The least I can do is give them one in return.

As I spent the time contemplating on what to do in this situation, the woman came running back, her breath ragged, clutching a fistful of something in her hand.

It was clear she ran all the way here. “What’s that?” I asked.

“Ha… ha…” she panted, “Elderwood bark...” Without hesitation, she pressed the bark into the wound, cupping her hands around it. “Arcnet Call: Essence Release.” A warm light glowed between her fingers, seeping into the wound as she exhaled, a look of relief washing over her face.

As her hands lifted from the wound, I saw the bark being pushed out of the wound, like toothpaste squeezed out of a tube. The deep gash that went through half of the leg was slowly being closed, leaving behind smooth skin.

I gaped with my mouth literally hanging open at the miracle unfolding before my eyes. She just instantly healed him. What the actual fuck? Is she a mage?!

“W-what just happened?” I asked in disbelief.

Ignoring me, the woman hugged the broad chest of the until-now injured man, “It’s too early darling, I can’t let go of you just yet.” she whispered as tears streaked down her cheeks.

I rotated the wooden spit on which the rabbit was slowly roasting. It’s maddening when you can’t just ask your phone how long to cook something. Back home, ChatAI7 would’ve had this rabbit perfectly roasted to a golden brown. Heck, it could even give me a precise ETA based on the breeze and wood density. But here? I’m left guessing, like some primitive caveman. What next? Rub two sticks together to make fire? Oh wait—already did that.

I looked at the pair in front of me—both middle-aged, around 40 years old. The woman was gaunt, with angular cheekbones that made her sharp features look even more severe. She had deep-set eyes that might have been pretty in her youth but now held a hard, almost hawk-like intensity. The man, in contrast, was broad-shouldered and muscular, with the kind of build that suggested years of deliberate training. His face was rugged, covered in a rough beard flecked with gray, and his brow was lined with the weight of countless hardships.

She was giving him a lap pillow, brushing his hair with a surprisingly gentle touch as she stroked his cheeks. Even with those sharp features, the tenderness she showed softened her expression. She’d been at it for over half an hour, not uttering a single word, her entire focus devoted to his unconscious form.

I didn’t say anything either. I’m socially awkward even in normal circumstances, let alone this mess.

I mustered the courage to break the silence. “It should be done soon,” I said, trying to sound confident. Probably? I actually have no idea.

Lara looked up, her expression somewhere between surprise and skepticism. “Thank you” she said, nodding toward Henry. “For… for what you did to keep him alive.” Her tone was flat, almost wary, as though she didn’t want to give too much away. She glanced back down at him, and for a second, I thought I saw her mask slip—a quick flash of relief, mingled with raw, unfiltered exhaustion.

I shifted, a little uncomfortable. “I just… did what anyone would,” I mumbled, not entirely sure how to handle her gratitude—it felt strange, maybe even undeserved.

“Right.” Her gaze settled on me, sharper this time, appraising. “Most people wouldn’t. Not for strangers, anyway.” There was a hint of challenge in her voice, almost as if she was questioning my motives.

I met her stare, feeling oddly defensive. “Well, I wasn’t going to just let him die,” I replied, more sharply than I intended.

She raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching in something like a smirk. “Lucky for him, I guess.” She exhaled, seeming to decide on something. “I’m Lara. And this here is Henry. “Aur… ah…” I stumbled, realizing in a panic I couldn’t go by Aurelius with this girly body. Can’t use my real name—she’d never buy it.

“Aura, then.” She nodded, repeating it as if sealing the name to me. I opened my mouth to correct her, but hesitated - it felt futile. The way she looked at me—like she’d just boxed me in with it—felt oddly final. Aura. Hearing it aloud made something twist inside me, as if I was slipping further away from who I used to be. Aurelius—the name I’d always known—felt like it was fading out of reach, slipping just a little further out of reach.

It was unsettling, like being forced to try on an ill-fitting mask. I didn’t want to be Aura, but here I was, living it—even if just for now. I tried to shake off the thought and turned back to Lara.

“Thank you, Aura. And I’m sorry about earlier. It’s just… we don’t often get the chance to trust anyone.”

“Well… I understand,” I replied, trying to shake the unsettling thought. Aura. Guess that’s who I am now.

She nodded, watching me carefully. “People out here tend to look out for themselves. That’s just how it is. No hard feelings, I hope?”

I glanced at her, wondering if I was imagining the subtle warning in her words. “None at all,” I said, trying to keep my tone light.

“Please, if there’s any way I can repay you, just tell me. I’ll do anything.” Her face was serious, a determined look in her eyes that said she’d follow through. For a second, I thought she might already be figuring out just how far she’d go to make good on that offer—or maybe, how she could twist it to her advantage.

“No, don’t worry about it. After all, you saved my life too,” I replied with an awkward smile. Without the two of them, I wouldn’t have had a chance against that monster.

“That’s not enough. I owe you, and I repay my debts. Whatever you need, just say the word.” she countered, her voice steady, with a hint of appraisal. She saw through my hesitation and continued. “You kept him alive with that… unique technique of yours. Using string to stop his bleeding—that takes some skill.” She paused, looking me over with a trace of skepticism. Clearly, she wasn’t going to let the matter drop easily.

I took a breath, considering how to respond. But then I remembered something else that had been nagging at me. “Alright. Then can you tell me about that magic you used?”