“Oh my god. If I see you obsessively check your phone one more time—”

“But she texted me,” I said. “Directly. Why me and not you? Or Rachel?”

Bernadette had made a full recovery. All told, I had been here for two weeks, and she for three.

While she recuperated, I’d been practicing my new bard spells. I was pretty good at them, but I could really only cast three of the big ones every 4 or so hours. The spell slot system still didn’t seem to make much sense for me.

Lower level slots, like the ones I had were on an hour and a half timer per slot. But the at-will spells didn’t use slots. But abilities like my Adrenaline Rush and Inspiring Word came back after a ten minute timer?

My slate kept track of all this, but I was keen to make sense of it so I could use the abilities and spells optimally. If I hadn’t had a use of the Healing Phrase when Bernie needed it…

“Because she's a narcissist, that’s why,” Bernadette said. “I had no idea until I joined your group, but holy shit, man. She had you all wrapped around her finger.”

We were on the road again. Headed to a city called Amaryllis. On the map it was a small city right on a small skinny promontory of Throne territory squished between the Goblin Frontier and the Kingswood. Rachel had said that she needed to stop there for a sidequest.

That was two days ago. We haven’t heard from her since.

“I don’t think that’s fair,” I said.

“Yeah?” Bernie prodded. “What, do you think it was really your idea to pay for her mom’s plane ticket? Or hell, when Rachel wanted to join the group again, why did you say no the first time?

“I was worried that it wasn’t the right—”

“Also, what about how every time she had a crisis, it just so happened to be at the same time as something important to your ex?”

“How did you—”

“That last part was a guess,” Bernadette laughed darkly. “But, hey, I fell for that shit too. Hung on her every damn word. Now I got more important things to worry about. As do you.”

I wasn’t sure I bought this idea of Sofia being a master manipulator. Why? We weren’t friends, not really. Or, I guess we were for a couple months before the Blue Door. Then my mind rewinded to the beginning of her sentence.

“Wait, you had a crush on her?”

“Zach,” she turned back and gave me a pointed look. “You know I’m bi.”

“I just thought you were friends.”

“Dude, I’m a theater kid. You want to know how many bizarrely sapphic friendships I’ve had?”

“One?”

“It’s not one.”

She let me chew on that for a bit, then tossed me her new sword, sheathed thankfully.

“Look at this!”

I dropped it but fumbled it back into my hands before it hit the dirt. It was the one she had picked up from the Knight of Flowers.

I checked my inventory to see its stats.

It was listed as ‘Thirsting Thorn +2.’ The tooltip said ‘a gift from the King in the Wood to knights who have distinguished themselves with valor beyond their sworn duty. For every critical hit done by the wielder, they are healed by 10%.’

From my knowledge of the Game as it was before we got here, weapons only reached +3 in bonus. Though I think I remembered earlier versions of the game where they reached as high as +5.

Living in the game instead of playing it, meant that all of this game data felt pretty abstract anyway. Stabs with a sword seemed pretty lethal regardless of bonus. But maybe that was because we were player characters?

I decided that a +2 bonus was pretty good, regardless.

Getting a better look at the sword, I could see that the enameled flowers on the crossguard were actually all red and purple roses entwined in thorny vines, and the pommel was set with a beautiful red gem the size of a walnut. I didn’t know my gems but I guessed it probably wasn’t a ruby. Maybe a garnet?

I tossed the sword back, and she caught it effortlessly. Because of course she did.

I just had the sword I started with, though thankfully we’d gotten a sheath for it before we left. I’d dropped the dwarven sword in my fight with the Knight of Flowers, and his sword I had accidentally left near the tree in our flight back to the road.

I had to be better than that. I had to stop making these mistakes.

“It’s a good sword,” I said.

“My back stabs count as critical hits, so I should get healed constantly through battle.”

“Amazing.”

“Well, that’s the idea anyway. Against really tough targets one-on-one, it’s practically useless. But with others providing a distraction?”

“Should be pretty strong.”

“Yeah.”

I’m not great at describing what travel is like. There was a lot of dirt, and a lot of trees. Damn leaves nearly covered the entire path, and stayed all soggy from last night's rain.

Both Bernie and I had brand new coats to warm us from the wind that steadily became more cold by the hour. It was still summer in Vesperalis, but that wouldn’t hold forever.

When we stopped to make camp, just a ways off the road, it was with a brand new tent. Bernadette wasn’t too happy I’d left our previous pack at the elven encampment, but we had plenty of money.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

And I was the one carrying the stuff anyway.

She helped me out of my armor, and we tackled the tent together. It ended up being pretty easy to set up. After, we felt empowered to build a fire to cook a rabbit Bernie’d killed.

I had a crossbow too now, but I wasn’t much of a shot with it.

She said the fire was worth the risk, since the map said the chance of goblin ambush was low here. The rabbit was gamey, but we had salt to season with, so it tasted pretty good when it was all said and done.

We didn’t have a lot to talk about at first.

Eventually, Bernie told a ghost story she had learned during her high school drama camp, and it reminded me how recent that was for her. Yeah, I was only four years older, but I hardly ever thought about high school.

Unless it was Sofia.

We felt the lack of anything to do pretty keenly. I resolved to get a deck of cards at the next town.

I also felt that there was this huge gaping hole where we were avoiding talking about that night, the night where she almost died, and I’d told her I needed her. It had felt true at the time. It probably was true. But it was one thing to feel it, and another to say it out loud as part of a magical healing spell.

“You probably still need a little more rest than I do,” I said after we’d smothered the fire. “So, I’ll take the first watch and a little more.”

“Thanks,” she said. She lingered for a second like she was going to say something more. But soon the moment was gone, whatever it was, and she ducked into the tent.

I walked around the perimeter of the camp for a bit. It was hard to see in the deep dusk, but once the moon was out it should be much better. I had decent night vision.

Unless it was a new moon. Was it a new moon?

These things didn’t matter as much before, so I had no idea yet. Too cloudy.

Eventually I found a good place to watch the trail coming in from the road, a log probably twenty or so feet from the tent. I whittled on a piece of wood for a bit. This one was a little dog. Maybe a horse? Whenever it was done I’d set him along the road for another passerby to find.

It wasn’t long before I checked my messages. The last thing she’d said was the same as before: ‘don’t make promises you can’t keep.’

What the hell did that mean?

Rustling came from a bush to my left. I reached for my sword.

I was a squirrel that had leapt out of the way of…

Bernadette.

She sat on the log next to me.

“You scared me,” I said.

“I think I scared myself with that ghost story.”

I laughed. She leaned her head on my shoulder. Then, she said, “She’s breadcrumbing you.”

“She was alone out here for thirty years before anyone else. She needs our help.”

Bernadette looked up at me.

“Then why didn’t she say that?”

“I don’t know.”

“I liked her a week ago, but we don’t know who she is now. She could have become anyone.”

The wind blew in cold, and she put her hands under my coat to warm them. Her fingers were like ice, even through my shift. I thought that maybe I should have left my gambeson on.

“It’s cold out here. Come in the tent with me. I’ll take over in a bit, but we shouldn’t be out in the cold for too long.”

It was much warmer in the tent. I sat on the edge of the bed roll, since I knew that there was plenty room on it, and she sat on the other end.

“We need a cover,” she said, while I continued to whittle, making sure the shavings fell into a neat pile. “Some reason why we’re traveling in Throne of Light territory.”

“You can sing, right?”

“Of course.”

“I guess we can be a band, or troubadours as they call it?”

“That’s a good idea,” then after some thinking said, “what songs do you know?”

We went through some shared songs, singing bits to find out how our voices fit together. We had lots of overlap in 90s animated movie canon. I knew more pop songs and she knew more show tunes and classic musicals.

I was a baritone, and she had a pretty impressive vocal range, but she seemed pretty comfortable as an alto. The songs we found fit us the best so far, were a blues song from the 90s, and a Rat Pack song that let me shine a little bit.

I checked my phone and found it was well past midnight.

“I should probably head back out and watch.”

“Nah,” she replied. “We’re fine. Come take a nap with me first. I can tell you’re tired.”

“I don’t, I don’t think,” I stammered.

“Oh shut up and get in here,” she said. “Don’t make a big deal out of it, we’re cold and tired.”

I got under the bedroll with her, and she laid her head on my shoulder and draped her arm over my chest. In one way, it felt fine, felt natural. In another, I was way too conscious of what her body felt like, and the layers of clothes between us or lack thereof.

“I can feel you thinking,” she said. “Stop it, and get some rest. We’re gonna need it. Just relax. We’ve done this before.”

“But those other times,” I started to say, but cut myself off. Those other times what? What was different? That we had needed the closeness, and intimacy before so as to keep each other from spiraling into irreversible panic? What was happening now?

I felt like I was always just moments from spiraling into paralysis, and panic all day every day.

“Those other times, what?” she asked, a hint of annoyance coloring her voice.

“Nothing. I don’t know where I was going.”

“Good.”

Soon I was just staring at the top of the tent, thinking but not really thinking at all.

This was nice, her here with me like this. It was so nice.

I could feel tears well in my eyes, and I blinked them back. Soon, she was asleep. Her breathing was soft, and warm against my chest.

She was so small, but her body also felt very womanly, pressed against me like this. I thought back to our conversation on the road, before the fight at the elven camp.

She’d said that she was ‘tiny, and cute, and honestly kinda sexy once people get past that, so guys get real possessive of me.’ Yeah, that wasn’t not what was happening. A warmth spread in my chest. I wanted to wrap her in my arms and never let her go, to keep her in the little box of my heart forever.

Oh no, I was getting sappy. Oh, that was bad.

She didn’t open her eyes or stir much, but she murmured something.

“You’re thinking again. Tell your brain to shut up.”

“Okay,” I said.

She turned her body away from me but grabbed my other arm, like she was settling into a blanket. I turned onto my side too, following her lead. Now she was pressed against me in a different way.

It was nice. I was suddenly very tired.

I fell asleep.

When I woke, the arm under her was asleep, but I felt much better — rested. I grabbed my slate. It was just past two in the morning. So, I’d only slept for a couple hours.

Despite the painful pins and needles, man, I felt like I could take on the world.

I climbed out of the bedroll. She seemed to barely notice, pulling the cover higher up past her neck. She snored.

I put my gambeson on for extra warmth and shrugged into my coat, then slipped out of the tent into the night. The moon wasn’t full, but it was bright. I shouldered my crossbow, and slowly walked around the tent, sweeping my eyes through the trees.

I tried not to be obsessive about it, but I checked my phone again.

No new messages from Rachel or Sofia. And no new messages an hour and a half later either.

When I looked up from my slate, it was just in time to see a streak of light zip through the forest and slam directly into my chest.

I felt whatever it was bounce off me. Instinctively I cupped my hands just in time to catch it. It was a person. A tiny, three inch high, little guy with bug wings.

“He’s gonna eat me!” the little guy screamed in a high pitched voice.

Crashing through the brush came a goblin, fork in one hand, knife in the other.

“Huh.”