It was a fine day for travel. The autumn sun gave the leaves blowing in the wind a warm glow, making the chilly air feel warmer than it truly was. There were few travelers this way, so there wasn’t much need to keep a watch forward, and everyone could just focus on the nice outdoors.
Fayette marched along the dirt road, broom laid against her shoulder, the bucket at its end swishing back and forth with every step. She was humming, cheerfully, feeling at her free hand. Feeling at the energy she could tap into, but it was still just so… difficult.
She felt at the bond, and the mark at her thigh tingled as the magic began flowing in once again. She tried to hold it steady, holding her breath. Calm—just stay calm… that’s the key…
Slowly, she gathered the magical power towards her fingertip and then began to gradually push the strand of magic out, still holding it. If she let up, the energy would transform into water instantly, but that wasn’t her aim right now.
Focusing, Fayette gradually drew out a line of blue energy from her finger, trying to bend the thin thread into a loop, and she was just about to get it… And then her concentration lapsed, and the thread turned to water, then splished down onto the dirt.
Fayette sighed—today really wasn’t her day.
“Agh! I’m not making any progress at all today! I swear it's those [Bandits], letting any go has to be bad luck.”
Marie, who was walking beside her, clicked her tongue, looking Fayette’s way, displeased. “Don’t joke about that. He was pretty low-level, and probably hadn’t done much bad. [Bandits] tend to level fast.”
Fayette frowned, starting up another thread of water mana, forming it at her fingertip. “But a [Bandit] is still just a [Bandit], right? He would have eventually done something.”
“Maybe so… but still—I just...” Marie tried to gather her thoughts but then fell silent, pondering.
Fayette looked over her with a quick side eye, then got back to her casting. At least she doesn’t seem to be beating herself up anymore. She traced the line of magic out, then stumbled when she felt resistance in her bond, and her bucket began wiggling. Her thread collapsed to water again.
Fayette reached out behind her, and took the metal bucket off her broom, eyeing it warily. She had a vague sense of how the slime within was feeling most of the time, and it was generally strangely content to be in the bucket. Rather like a cat in a box, really.
Except even more liquid.
But now… Fayette felt the liquid inside the bucket sloshing back and forth. She clanged the lid, which was warded with some basic magical runes, three times, and the shaking stopped.
Hey, are you getting antsy inside there?
MOVE. REPLENISH. FREEDOM.
Fayette quirked an eyebrow, then looked over the forest around her. The dry leaves crunching under her feet gave her an idea. Maybe I could...
“Watch out everyone, I’m letting the slime out!”
Olivia and Mireille glanced back at her from where they were leading the group, and both grimaced. The two hastened their steps, creating a bit of space between themselves and Marie and Fayette.
“Just make sure that thing stays under control!”
“It’s been fine, Mireille! Stop worrying so much.”
The [Seamstress] looked back forward, shaking her head, and Fayette bent down. She held the bucket out at a slight downward tilt, then popped the lid open, and a slimey goop slid out, onto the road, right onto a pile of dead leaves.
The leaves dissolved inside the slime rapidly, leaving only pristine dirt and rock behind. Fayette brightened. “Look at you go! You are such a handy thing!”
Marie was watching the slime clear a tract along the road, eyes pensive. “You know, Fayette… You say a [Bandit] is just a [Bandit], but how can you use that slime, then? Doesn’t the same apply to monsters?”
“Hmm, I don’t think so, really,” Fayette said, watching the slime follow the trail of leaves like a puppet led forward by a string. “Slimes like this… They don’t really think, do they? Just reacting to what they come upon. But a person… they would have to choose to become a [Bandit], right? That’s the difference.”
She looked back, and saw Marie bite her lip, looking frustrated. “Yes… but I don’t think that choice is the same for all of them. Didn’t you see how that boy looked? His face was so gaunt—almost skeletal. I don’t think he had an easy choice.”
Fayette thought back, at that one [Bandit] they had let go, and found that… she didn’t really remember. He had been just another [Bandit], another member of the grey mass assigned as “enemy”. In her mind, they all seemed to blend together, into just a vague impression. Should I remember what he looked like? Did I see that at the time?
“Hmm… Maybe so,” Fayette eventually answered, then turned back to Marie. “But still, he was with them and would have—”
She stopped.
Because, Marie just looked back at her, disappointed. And for some reason… that hurt. Fayette flinched from the gaze, and looked back forward, hastening her steps. “Sorry Marie. I guess in the middle of battle… that stuff just sort of fades. I can’t really remember.”
The [Lady] sighed, and took two quick steps forward, returning to her side. “Really, this type of thing is important. You should think about it more.”
Fayette rolled the mana along her skin, back and forth like a pendulum, watching the slime moving in front of her. It was still just moving forward, happy to devour everything that came within sight for nourishment. I guess I really should think over that stuff more, but it’s just…
Something felt wrong about it all. More than just the question. Why couldn’t she remember that face? Because… now that she thought about it, she really couldn’t remember many at all. Just that first one.
[Lord] Castellani. The expression he had made when she had suddenly thrust that acidic rag at her face… that twisting grimace—she couldn’t forget that one. It was burned in her mind, bright as the first time it had happened.
Such a strong impression—but why couldn’t she remember any of the others? Not the thugs in Palogne, or the bandits during their hunting trip. Even the [Knights] and [Mages] of the Arreau lot were hard to picture.
So... she ignored it and sighed. “Fine. I’ll keep it in mind.”
Marie smiled, just a tad melancholy. “Thanks. I’m glad.”
For an instant, it felt like that aura of a [Lady] was back there, pushing at her class, but then it was gone. And Fayette shivered, a thrill going through her.
Unsettled, she pushed all water mana throbbing at her skin out, aiming a blast right at the slime. It shivered as the ice-cold water hit its goopy body, and stopped advancing.
Fayette held down her bucket, tapping its metallic side. “Playtimes over! Get back inside!”
She sensed a hint of disappointment through the bond, but the slime eventually sloshed back inside the bucket, like a stream flowing in reverse. It wobbled inside, molding itself to fit the bucket perfectly, and again radiated a sense of satisfaction.
Fayette shook her head as she put the lid back on. You really are easy to satisfy.
Then she looked forward, at the town ahead, which had already been in sight for some time. They were close. They just needed to cross the river by the town’s bridge, and then it would be a day’s walk to the quarantined city. A city where a magical plague had raged, was still raging, invoking all manner of horrors.
She gripped her broom tighter, and quickly checked over her uniform, making sure it was pristine. Broom and uniform—if she had those… she could fight. And looking to the side, at the [Lady] walking by her side and her friends in front, she felt calmer.
It would be dangerous—yes. But they had prevailed before. They were a true team now, tested in battle.
Things would go fine.
—
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Fayette knew things would not go fine the moment she stepped into town, her three comrades by her side.
The place looked ordinary enough, a small hamlet of a few dozen buildings by a major river crossing. The type of place where one might stop their caravan for a break, before carrying on forward the next day. Things looked calm enough—some locals walking about here and there, a slow trickle of traffic over the bridge, and children playing with acorn cows.
But still… it was a faint tingle at her back, like a [Dangersense] without the danger. The way some of the people in town took an extra long look at their group. The sense of foreboding.
“Somebody’s watching us,” Olivia said, eyeing the windows on both sides of the main road—well, the only road. It was a small place.
Fayette nodded. “Agreed. I... don’t think we should stick around here. Feels bad.”
Mireille looked between the two of them, and then started marching forward. “If you two think something is off—then something is off. Let’s move.”
“We’re only here for the bridge,” Marie added, keeping up her pace. “We didn’t need to stop for anything anyway.”
And so, they paced forward, hurrying for that simple stone bridge, so small but so vital.
Fayette almost thought they would make it unassailed—but she knew better. Her nose for trouble was getting pretty good these days, so she swept her head to the left a good 5 seconds before it happened.
Before he appeared.
Suddenly, just as they neared the crossing, a great horse galloped out from behind the tavern, circling forward to block off the bridge, a tall, broad-shouldered man at its back. He was wearing a military [Officer’s] uniform, dress sword by his side, and pulled his reins to a stop right in front of the party, his gaze sweeping past all of them.
Focusing on Marie.
Fayette breathed deeply. This fast? Really? But then she had another look at the horse, and nodded. Of course. Like clockwork, the inevitable meeting.
The man jumped off his horse gracefully, landing on their side, then swept a curt bow, taking off his hat. His hair was a clear blond, mussed up from being under the hat.
“[Lady] Du Adrianne I presume?” He said, voice calm.
Fayette grimaced, synchronized with Marie’s own furrowed brow. The prospective husband.
Their party had frozen in place, watching the man’s gaudy entrance warily. The silence stretched as the man watched their party, waiting for a reply. He seemed to be in his early thirties by how Fayette judged it, and his face had some scars from battle.
She gripped her broom tighter, making sure the slime didn’t shake around in the bucket. Then she gave Marie a questioning look, but the [Lady] gave her a quiet shake of the head, then turned forward.
She sighed deeply, like a tomb of collected frustrations unearthed, then finally met the man’s eyes.
“[Lord] Du Montcalm I presume?”
His lip curled up a bit, and he nodded, standing firm. “Best regards. Our meeting is a tad… overdue. Your escapades have caused a lot of inconvenience.”
Marie lifted a brow. “Inconvenience? A marriage I never agreed to is what I would call an inconvenience.”
Fayette frowned when she saw the [Lord] barely react at all to Marie’s reprimand. I don’t think he’s going to back down with just talk. She glanced to the sides and saw half-a-dozen armed men walking out from the sides of the road, catching up with the [Lord].
And he’s got backup. And we are in public with lots of civilians watching…
This might get difficult. She looked back, just in time to see the [Lord’s] calm response.
“I understand your hesitation, but the [Engagement Contract] has already been signed. I’m afraid I cannot back down lightly.”
Marie looked behind him, at the bridge, clutching her fists. “Just… can’t we do this later? We’re trying to get to the quarantine—to save lives. This is wasting time.”
He finally reacted, eyes widening in surprise. He looked behind himself, at the stony, bridge then back to Marie. “Why would you be going to fight a plague? You are a [Lady]. That is not where your talents lie.”
Marie bristled. “And you know better?”
He nodded. “Of course—that is why I arranged for this marriage.”
Fayette, no, everyone in their party stared at him, and the [Maid] started to really feel outraged. She took a step to the side, nearer to Mireille. She was only carrying a broom. That was the handy thing about brooms, few saw them as weapons before it was too late. If I just get near him and—
Mireille gripped her by the cuff of her sleave, and Fayette stopped that train of thought. She looked back, and saw her friend shake her head subtly. She grimaced, but looked back forward, at her newer friend. How are you going to handle this?
[Lord] Du Montcalm started pacing back and forth, keeping his eyes on Marie. Relaxed. “Please understand, I bear no ill will here. I am just doing what’s right.”
“Right for you, maybe. I never asked for this,” Marie responded, glaring at him.
“Did you not? I disagree. I can see it in your eyes—ambition. I heard that your family did not think highly of your abilities. Please understand, I am here because I disagree.”
“And I disagree with you. Will you let us pass?”
He stopped, holding up his hands. “Just hear me out. As I said, I bear you no ill will. This is just about duty.”
“And you are keeping us from fulfilling that duty,” Marie retorted, pointing at the bridge. “There’s a blasted magical plague going on, half a day’s ride away! Stop with this farce! Go help there if you want to talk about duty!”
“No!” He said, voice booming. “That is where you are mistaken. That is not duty. As I said, you are a [Lady]. A [Lady] of bastions—I know your skills. They are not suited to something like this.”
He finally turned from her, eyeing the rest of the party, eyes falling on Olivia. “Your friends might be of some use there. But playing at being a hunter is running away from duty. You are a daughter of the nation, and we are at war overseas. Duty calls for us all, even me.”
He shook his head, looking over Marie, almost disappointed. “You have great potential—really. But these are childish games. Please understand—I just want to refine your potential into something great. Stop wasting it with... this.”
The longer Fayette listened to him talk, the angrier she started to get. Because that lecturing tone—that confidence… It was familiar. Just like when a [Lord] had commanded her to stand and fight because he had thought it was the proper thing to do.
“Mireille, how bad would it be if I tried to knife him right now.” She whispered, vision swimming. Her fingers were almost twitching with an urge.
A touch at her side calmed her. But Mirelle's hiss was ice cold. “Fay… Do not talk like that. Marie is trying to talk this out. We are in public. Being watched. If you do something now…”
She left the consequences unsaid. But Fayette knew. She knew it as well as she knew that talking wouldn’t work here, because even though this [Lord] Du Montcalm was being somewhat peaceful for now—he just would not stop. He was talking like one of the orphanage caretakers during a lecture.
"—have to consider the politics of it—"
On and on in that lecturing tone. Like he knew what was best, what was right. Like he had the right to decide it all. Just like in the books she read, which always annoyed her with how they ended. A [Lady] having a fine enough time with her [Maids] and friends, then out of nowhere an annoying [Prince Charming] shows up and sweeps her away with a few words.
Fayette always hated those endings.
So she ran through every option she could think of—because something would have to be done here. The man seemed experienced, relatively strong too. About as strong as the [Knight of Justice] had been probably.
But here… on this bridge—a surprise attack wouldn’t work. He had a damned [Squire] standing by his horse now, holding the reins. No way [Unseen Attendant] would really go unseen here.
He was still lecturing, pacing back and forth, pausing every now and then like a teacher at the blackboard. “—Miss Du Adrainne, please understand, it is a matter of honour—”
Just on and on. None of Marie’s words were reaching him. So much about honor. Maybe he would be the type to…
Slowly Fayette reached into her [Apron of Holding], and dug around there for a second. She pulled out a spoon and a glove. Words won’t reach him—so maybe this…
With a quick look to the side, she saw Marie's increasingly annoyed face, and made her decision. Sorry, I should probably let you deal with this. But...
I just really don't want to.
She put the spoon inside the glove, held it in her left hand, closed it, then marched forward. Mireille's hand tried to grab at her, but she wasn't strong enough to stop a determined Fayette from suddenly throwing her hand out to block off the [Lady].
“Hey [Lord]! Stop going on and on! We’ve given our answer!”
The man stopped pacing, staring blankly at the [Maid] who had walked in front, interrupting his speech. Everyone else also stared. Her friends in horror, the others in blank confusion.
Fayette looked back at Marie, who had frozen into a statue behind her, and gave her a quick grin. Then she glared forward. “She doesn’t want to come with you! So!”
She started walking. “Get. Out. Of. The. Damn. Way.” She said, every word one step forward, until she was only a few feet away from the [Lord].
He did not back down and only grimaced. “[Maid], please quiet, this is a matter between me and Marie.” He said, as if a student had just interrupted his wise teachings.
A vein bulged on Fayette's forehead. This better work… She had only read about this technique in a few books, but Fayette was pretty sure this was how it was done. There were lots of people watching, and the [Lord] seemed a very particular type.
So she chose to go with a very traditional response to such matters. Here goes nothing.
Fayette threw her hand forward, launching a glove right at the man’s cheek with [Cutlery Control].
The [Lord's] eyes widened, and his hand snapped up, grabbing the glove midair. He stared at it.
Fayette saw his stunned face and laughed. “There! Now it’s a matter between you and me! A duel! I challenge your engagement!” She pointed back at Marie, who had frozen solid even more. “You don’t get her! She's staying right here!”
“F-f-Fayette—” Marie stuttered, trying to get a word out, but failing.
A pin dropping could have been heard. Everybody was staring, silent, and eventually, the [Lord] let the glove drop to the ground. “…but you are a [Maid]. This is… what?”
Fayette humphed as arrogantly as she could. “What? Too cowardly to face a [Maid]?” She met his eyes. “My broom has met stronger foes.”
And finally his eyes saw her. The way she was standing. The way Fayette had drawn her broom and was now holding it. That subtle feeling of danger.
Slowly, [Lord] du Montcalm’s gait relaxed, hands falling to his sides. He rolled his shoulders around, then gradually… started to smile.
“Fine then. Yes, very fine,” he said, looking over Fayette again, this time measuring her, eyes starting to finally show some life. No lecturer now, more defiant man. “I've never fought a woman before, I'll admit. I won't be gentle. How should we do this?”
“Soon as possible, we’re in a hurry,” Fayette said, backing up to her friends, who were still staring at her. Marie most of all. The [Lady] still couldn’t get a word out.
“Fine then,” the [Lord] said, turning to his [Squire]. “Leonard! Fetch my armor and sword! It’s been some time since I’ve had proper exercise.”
Fayette shook her head, and walked back to Marie, nodding at the [Lady] calmly. She gave her a reassuring pat to the shoulder, but the woman just collapsed against Fayette's bosom. The [Maid] caught her in a gentle hug.
“Hey! No collapsing now—this is just… fulfilling my promise. I said I’d beat ‘em off, right?”
Marie looked up at her, feet still unsteady. “Fayette—just… This isn’t a good idea. You don’t have to—for me… He really is strong. He’s been at war. You don’t have surprise on your side now.”
“I can’t be handing you off to him, now can I? You only just joined us! He’s strong—I can see it too—but I’ll still do it,” Fayette said, patting her on the head. The [Maid] looked up, meeting Mireille’s eyes, and nodded.
“Right, so… if anyone has any ideas on how to actually win this… now would be the time.”
The last bits of strength went out of Marie’s legs.