“Do you think we should wait for the guards to get here?” The saintess asked me a valid question, but I couldn’t help but feel she wasn’t thinking about trying to save our assailants. The reason? She was staring at her blood covered hands which still held the murder weapon.

I put a hand on her shoulder reassuringly, “Better to go to a priest for healing first before I end up like him”. I gave the spear to the saintess to carry, taking the murder weapon from her hands.

We looked at the buildings nearby for a bell situated high above the other roofs. In theory, the bells were there to be rung in times of disaster, with the church becoming the safe haven for all noncombat classes to seek shelter in and bring the wounded to. In safer cities, the bell was merely a symbol for the church, their oath ringing out or something.

We walked for less than a minute to a major intersection. The small blade I left in my abdomen began to burn as the adrenaline wore off. I hope I never get used to the pain of being shot, bludgeoned, stabbed, or otherwise violently injured like this.

My mind wanders a bit as we make our way towards the building, a tall and thick wooden structure with metal grates over every window. Naturally defensible, with priests stopping the two of us from entering and bleeding anywhere. Naturally, they would prevent those of us who need healing from entering the house of healing by blocking the door.

We eyed the two older priests in white robes, waiting for them to speak first.

“My friend needs healing, please move aside so I can bring him to someone who will provide him charity.”

The slightly younger of the two old men shakes his head. “The church does not provide charity to heroes like yourself, saintess. You possess the ability to heal, so heal him.”

My mind was beginning to swim from the blood loss. Nevertheless, something bothered me about what he said.

“I can’t heal him, I overused my magic veins. They are still recovering and if I were to use magic again I might be without magic longer.” The saintess spoke in an exasperated tone as if she didn’t think we were going to get anywhere with them.

“You are heroes! Find a way without charity!” The same priest suddenly yelled at her, red in the face.

He didn’t seem angry at her though, more determined to get us to leave as he pointed down the street trying to get us to go. I didn’t know much about charity, but I tried to make a guess based on my previous conversation with the saintess.

“Can I ask for a reward for my service?” I called out to them weaker than I meant to. “I helped protect the saintess from two attackers and would like the church to provide payment.”

The older one gave a confused look, “Payment?”

“Yes, specifically in the form of healing equal to my service toward the church, not charity.”

“Saving the saintess is not something we…” The younger of the two old men paused while looking at the saintess, likely trying to figure out how to finish his sentence. “Not something we put a price on.”

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I drew my lips into the best imitation of the prince’s charming smile. “Plenty of groups offer services for requests done for them. Surely asking for payment for a job done wouldn’t be considered charity?” I felt my legs growing less steady as blood loss was getting worse for me. If this carried on, I might have to try selling my sword or shield and getting back before blood loss kills me.

Then it clicked. The priests were moving their mouths but I couldn’t hear it. I finally understood what was happening. Hero’s couldn’t receive charity. That wasn’t about our title as heroes but a potential path they wanted us to take. Much like a swordsman might lose a path if he swings an ax even a single time, heroes apparently couldn’t receive charity to be eligible to walk that path. In a form of subtractive pathing, they are trying to protect our future from being cut off. We never gained any gear or money once we were chosen, I would like to assume this was their justifiable reason for doing so.

One of the priests takes a step towards me and puts a hand on my stomach. He hesitates to grab the blade, his hand hovering just above it. Eventually, he grabs it and pulls it out slowly. I no longer had adrenaline for an anesthetic. The resulting pain caused me to tense up and lean on the priest just to remain standing.

“Are you alright?”

“What was that?” I moved my head to the side to figure out who said it as I regained hearing.

The older priest, who wasn’t the one to heal me, looked very concerned.

“The wound might reopen if you exercise or fight today. This is only to keep you from bleeding out or passing out from blood loss.”

The man’s eyes seemed to gravitate toward the saintess’s spear and the bloody murder weapon in my hand. Her spear wasn’t covered in blood, unlike my boots and blade.

“Let’s head out.” The saintess grabbed me and pulled me back towards the inn where we were staying. “No point trying to get into a shop when we would be getting blood everywhere.”

I nodded to her. “I didn’t think they were going to heal me.”

After almost a minute of walking away from them, she finally replied. “They weren’t, and that creepy smile didn’t help. My job is supposed to be to heal you.” She paused for a few seconds. “I told them that if I healed you as I was now, I might not get to heal anyone again in my entire second path, preventing my final path from being healing related.”

I took a few seconds to process what she said. Sounded like extortion, kind of. Maybe. I wasn’t sure what law it broke, but she didn’t make any friends.

“I wonder if I can get a different saintess title instead of a martyr on my second path after killing him.”

Realization hit me hard enough that I stumbled. She killed someone. The saintess killed someone. Only one saintess can exist at a time, pure and loving. They don’t kill others.

“Hurry to the room saintess.” I began to walk faster, trying to keep my stomach from opening again despite my increased speed. “We might have a problem.”

“What kind of problem?”

“Ceremonies to get to the next path are performed by at least one member of the church. They see what kind of paths we get access to.” I dropped my voice to a whisper for the next part. “You will likely get a path based on what happened with that attack and they won’t like seeing it.”

“…”

“...”

We walked in silence until we got to the inn. I let her inside first and closed the door to the inn. I had stopped leaving bloody footprints before we got to the inn but hadn’t thought of it at the time. We had too many problems and not enough solutions. We got inside our room and closed the door, then locked it, then shoved the bed in front of it.. The thief looked at us and demanded answers. He ran out of anger by the end of the story.

“Shit. Sorry you two had that happen.” Then we sank into silence again.A hopelessness filled the air until the saintess began to smile.

“The ceremony needs a member of the church to succeed.” The saintess looked at the thief with a grin. “I think I know how to get around the church seeing us getting our second and final path options. I just need information from the black market. Think they have any info on the church’s ceremonies?”