Gwyn took a quick half-step back; rocking on the balls of her feet before sidestepping and bringing her staff around in a wide half-circle. It struck the Reaver's spine, the impact jarring her hands- not enough to make her drop the staff, but enough to make her fingers tremble.

She continued that movement, stepping just out of reach as its giant claws whipped out again. She was distantly aware of Selerim's presence, his two-tone violet eyes flicking between herself and the Reaver.

This was her fourth fight in just over as many days. The second had ended the same was as the very first: with her being overwhelmed by the monster's anger and hatred. The third had lasted nearly ten minutes before her brother's intervention. He always calmed her in the aftermath; his voice always soothing, never actively blaming her for the many mistakes she made.

Why does it hate me so much? Gwyn wondered, dancing back to avoid another blow. It was difficult not to wonder what spurred on the excess emotion. There was no answer offered from stories she'd heard across her childhood, but instead from some nameless, formless portion of her psyche- her people had spent time untold slaughtering the many monsters that roamed Umbra. That such history had instilled a deep-seated hatred in the Reavers was far from unbelievable.

She blocked the Reaver's strike this time, whirling her staff in a half-circle to push its clawed paw away. The other end rose in response, smashing into its skull, and the blue glow emanating from its eyes flickered for a half-second. Gwyn took advantage of that, shifting her grip and turning her body in a quick circle to smash the metal rod into its head a second time.

There was an audible crack this time.

This would be a lot easier with a blade. She had never truly coveted any single weapon, but it was difficult not to envy the thin elven blade that he carried. Thin and light enough to wield with dexterity, but still hard and sharp enough to pierce Reaver hide with ease. The dwarven staff she wielded now was a perfectly fine training weapon, but largely lacked the means to inflict significant damage.

Even the few wounds that marred the Reaver's thick pelt were all made by Selerim during his subjugation. Judging by the position of a particularly deep one, Gwyn was fairly certain he'd impaled it as Nyx fetched her.

On the other hand, hew own repeated strikes to the skull would only do so much. She could shatter it completely, if given enough time, but that was a decidedly difficult task.

Gwyn bit down on her tongue, taking two paces back as the beast shook its head. Don't complain, she chided herself. You asked for this. She trusted Selerim's guidance, but he was no true teacher. That was one reason experience was all the more important.

Best not to waste it.

She watched as the Reaver circled her warily. One half of its jaw hung lower than the other, and its glowing eyes still seemed unfocused- though that did nothing to mute the hatred she could feel spilling from it.

What sort of Reaver is this, even? Gwyn wondered, sidestepping as it lunged at her. Selerim knew practically everything there was to know, but had said nothing of the ones she'd fought. Not even their names. She held her staff like a sword, swinging it hand-over-hand into the monster's spine.

The reverberations were even stronger this time, as was the sound of cracking bone. Did that do it? She held it up as she stepped away, but Reaver whirled to follow her. Guess not. Gwyn held her staff up horizontally to block this time, holding it so that the monster's teeth closed on it.

She flinched at the sound; not unlike that of metal on metal, lower-pitched- and feeing directly into her hands. The sound mingled with a dull, hollow screech as she pulled it from the monster's jaw. At the same time, Gwyn lashed out with her foot. The sensation was similar to when she sparred with Selerim, but more solid and much heavier.

Of course, she didn't expect the kick itself to do anything. Instead, she pushed off it, turning head-over-feet. There was a flash of cold, and then Gwyn was on her feet again, staff held out in front of her.

"That's enough."

And then Selerim cut the Reaver down. He struck quickly and quietly- just as he always did- coming from behind and jamming his sword down into the monster's throat, skewering it on the ground for an instant before flicking it to the side to half-sever its head. There was an odd sort of brutal efficiency to the way he killed; just enough damage to ensure a quick death, and not a bit more.

"You learn quickly."

"Sparring with you is harder."

"I'd go down if you hit me that hard."

"But I still haven't hit you."

He cracked a smile. "No, you haven't."

"I think it would have gone down after a few more hits."

"Probably. But I'd rather not take the risk. A dying beast is the most dangerous." Selerim flicked his sword, sending specks of bluish-blood onto the luminescent snow below. "Now you see why blades are better."

Gwyn nodded. "If I had a sword, or a dagger..."

Stolen novel; please report.

"It would have died more than once."

"If you were more comfortable swapping, you probably could've used one of your knives to land a killing blow. But I'd rather you not take the risk for now, anyways." He paused. "I'd let you practice with the sword, but that's a bit too dangerous. Sorry."

"It's fine." She dropped down in the snow, grateful for its cold against the heat of combat. "This is tiring."

"It wouldn't be so bad if you had a blade."

"Even so." Gwyn stood, brushing the rest of the snow off. "I know these are far from the worst thing out there."

"A blade still solves most problems."

"Maybe so. But-"

"You need a real one," he interrupted. "I know." Selerim grabbed the dead Reaver, by one leg. "Let's handle things here first."

image [https://i.imgur.com/T7fdvjj.png]

"Cut it here," Selerim said, holding his finger to the dead Reaver's neck.

"Here?" Gwyn pressed the tip of her knife just above.

"Yeah. Make-" He stopped short as she pressed the blade into the soft flesh of its underside, carving a wide gash from one side to the other. "Sometimes I wonder you're a little too practical."

"It's not like being squeamish helps anything. I wanted to learn, so I'll learn. I bet the others weren't squeamish, either."

"Saya was a little."

"Really?" She blinked. "That's surprising."

"Tie the rope like this." Selerim pulled it tight around the corpse's hind legs. "And hang it so that blood flows down and out through the cut. Are you--"

The remainder of the question died on his lips as Gwyn threw the knotted end up, looping it through the tree's branch and pulling it taut. "Yes you are."

"It's heavy," she said, voice strained. "But I can get it high enough."

He leaned down to tie it around the trunk.

"How long does it take?"

"About half an hour."

"And after that?"

"You cut its stomach open and fumble around for the Heart. Then skin it."

"Have you been doing that with all the Reavers you've killed so far?"

"Just taken the Hearts. They're the most valuable, and the lightest. I don't want to deal with the pelts."

"Where are you going to sell them?"

Selerim shrugged. "Not sure. The doctor could probably help, but I want to stop relying on him so much."

"So then...?"

"I'll figure it out."

She shrugged. "Alright."

He reached out to grab hold of her wrist. The right one- the one adorned with bracelet he'd loaned her. "How is this working? Everything feels okay?"

Gwyn slipped her hand free. "Fine. I feel fine."

"Meaning...?"

"The pressure is there, but it's not so bad that it's painful. It's doing its job. I wouldn't know if it's better than the other one, but you said this one can repair itself."

"It can. I want to give it to you for good, but..."

"You'll probably need it where you're going."

Selerim nodded. "But you should hold onto it if you're going to learn magic. The spell will be more useful with you than it will be with me."

"And I'm the one who's too practical?"

"A gift is better in the hands of someone who can use it. And imagine if we could carry all the supplies we needed so easily."

"It would be helpful," Gwyn admitted. "But you need to leave. And it'll be more helpful where you're going. So keep it."

"Alright." He dropped her hand. "How are you feeling now? Getting used to the strain of travel?"

She nodded. "Getting used to trekking through the snow, more like."

Selerim grinned. "It does take some practice, doesn't it?"

Gwyn scowled. "It feels like walking through cold, freezing sand. But it's not so bad, as long as we're moving. And it's fine by the fire. That time between stopping and getting the fire going, though..." She visibly shivered. "That's cold."

"And how are your eyes?"

"Better, now. I can see in the dark, just like I used to."

"That's good."

"What about you?"

"My eyes never really adjusted to the bright. I see better out here than in the city."

"Are you sure you'll be able to adjust permanently?"

Selerim nodded. "I'm sure it'll just take time. There'll be enough time once all of this is over." He turned back to the Reaver corpse. "Come here." And guided Gwyn's hand, knife held tight, towards its neck. "They're too brittle for the back hide, but the underbelly is softer."

Under his instruction, she dug the knife into its soft underbelly again, this time rending a gash from neck to stomach. Even with most of its blood on the ground before then, tepid blue leaked from the cut.

"Just...?" Gwyn reached tentatively.

"So long as you don't have any cuts on your hand."

She closed her eyes, as if thinking for a moment, before plunging her hand into the gaping wound. There was a moment of stillness; no doubt caused by the new, foreign sensation- but no more than that. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she sifted through the mess of blood and guts before pulling out a small blue stone about half the size of her fist.

"Just clean it off in the snow."

Gwyn dipped both hands, still carrying the Heart, into the cold white powder, stepping away to avoid the blood-steeped snow directly beneath the corpse. The remaining bluish blood fell away in wet clumps as she flicked her hands, then rubbed them- and the Heart- dry on her cloak.

"I'll carry it."

She dropped it into his outstretched hands. Selerim looked at it for a brief moment before wrapping it in thick leather and stowing in his large satchel.

"You don't always need to drain the blood first- it just helps keep things clean. And it makes the meat taste better, but-"

"I shouldn't be eating Reaver meat. Probably."

"Yeah."

"No problem. I doubt it tastes good anyways." Gwyn moved to sit by the fire, scooping up a handful of snow before rubbing them by the flickering orange mass. "That's a strange feeling. Plunging your hands into a corpse's guts."

"Sometimes you just have to get your hands dirty. You get used to it."

She shook her head. "I didn't really hate it. It just felt weird. New. It won't be something new next time." She stilled her hands, holding them hardly a finger's width away. "What are you going to do about my weapon?"

"We'll have to figure something out. I'd rather you have something that will last a while. Maybe we can stick something on the end of this?" Selerim gestured to the staff. "That might be easier. Even if the heads don't last, you could carry spares."

"And what if it breaks in the middle of a fight?"

"That's true. There has to be a way to make it sturdy enough."

"I'd really rather just stick with the staff at this point. I know that it's durable, at least."

"But you saw it yourself. It's too hard to land a decisive blow."

"I would have killed it eventually."

"But that's too much time. Especially against larger Reavers. Those ones are even tougher. You need a blade."

"What's your solution, then? You need your sword. I don't think we'll stumble on another weapon like it, or one of our kind's, either."

"I don't know," he admitted. "We'll figure something out."

"Alright. I'm sure we'll have some time before you leave. And if not, oh well. I'm not planning on leaving the city again any time soon."

Selerim laughed. "Too cold for you?"

Gwyn glared at that. "Easy for you to say. Apparently the cold means nothing to you!"

"We'll be back soon enough."

"How soon is that?"

"Within a week."