Bee drew her sword—slowly, slowly. She and Will crept towards the front door.

Her heartbeat was pounding in her ears.

My first real fight.

Will I have to kill somebody?

Would that bother me?

“Should I try to kill or subdue?”

“Kill.”

“Understood.”

“Be careful. Let me take the lead.”

Soon, the intruders were close enough that even Bee could hear their shuffling footsteps. They stopped right by the door. She stood up straight, drank the potion of shielding, and waited.

The door handle slowly inched down. Then the mechanism released with a click.

Bee kicked the door right into the face of whoever was standing behind it. A man went tumbling off the porch with the telltale nasally cry of someone with a broken nose. Bee stepped forward to go after him and promptly took a knife in the side from a man on her left.

The blade bounced off an invisible barrier that shattered like glass on impact.

Thanks, Will.

Bee smacked the man’s weapon out of his hand when he went for a second stab and tackled him to the ground, her on top. He had his sleeve down, meaning she couldn’t tell his Profession, but he was bulky enough that he had to have at least some Strength. She raised her sword to run him through, but he bucked with his hip and sent her toppling forward.

Throwing an arm over the back of her neck, he shifted his weight to flip them around so that he was on top. Bee let go of her sword, too long to be usable in such close combat, and wriggled free of the man’s arm. He was strong, but his grappling game was sloppy.

It was hard to see much past the brute on top of her, but she could just about make out the man with the broken nose stagger to his feet, only to catch a bottle that smashed against his forehead, spilling liquid over his face and shoulders that gave off a dark smoke. Judging by the resulting screams, the potion did not do anything pleasant.

Bee got her guy in a hold of her own, catching his neck in a guillotine choke and squeezing down hard with both arms, using her hips to generate extra leverage.

The man gurgled and spat, fighting to get out. He hit her in the ribs; once, twice, three times, and she groaned with surging pain.

But she didn’t let go. It was only seconds until the man started to go limp, and once he was all still she shoved him off of her. She fumbled for her fallen sword and soon found it, the metal reflected with the light of the green moon. She took it in both hands, spun back around on one knee, and plunged it right into the man’s neck. Withdrawing her blade, blood blacker than the surrounding night welled up through the wound and began soaking through his clothes.

Bee stood up, only to stagger back with a sudden impact a moment later. An arrow stuck out of her shoulder. She sidestepped just as another black streak whizzed past her, and she scrambled back into the house before a third came.

Inside, Will had lit a lantern on the floor that provided at least some light, and was busy concocting some other evil brew with his leftover potions. Number Five was heading in from the back and hobbled over to her with another bottle.

“Night vision,” Will grunted. “Mongrel had him fetch it from the workshop. Drink.”

Bee took the bottle and knocked it back. It tasted like dirt and salty licorice. Not her favorite combo.

Only seconds later, it was as though a dark cloth fell away from her eyes, revealing the world in full detail. It wasn’t like normal vision—she saw everything in shades of blue except the little amber circle provided by the lantern, which appeared exceedingly bright, like staring into a lamp.

She yanked the arrow out with a grunt. She noted with satisfaction that it hadn’t gone in far.

“Now, stay put and let me figure out a plan for that archer.”

But Bee was already out the door.

She leapt off the porch and sprinted towards the woods. She ran in a random, weaving zigzag to throw off the archer’s aim. Another arrow shot past her, a good half meter wide, and this time she had been able to somewhat track its trajectory, allowing her to further narrow down the archer’s position.

Plunging through the treeline, it didn’t take many seconds for her to come across a woman crouched behind some bushes. She’d dropped her bow and was halfway through drawing a dagger when Bee collided with her and ran her clean through with the sword.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The woman gasped in pain and disbelief, unable to quite understand what was happening. Bee kicked the woman away, clearing her sword in the process as the enemy slid off the blade.

Bee watched the woman suck down sharp, quick breaths. She writhed with pain, her eyes bulging out, and her shaky hands grasped at dirt by her sides.

Bee tried to figure out if she felt bad. Maybe a little. It looked quite painful.

How long will it take her to die? she wondered. Her movements weren’t getting any weaker. Maybe a gut wound wouldn’t kill someone straight away.

Bee cut open her throat to speed it along, and the woman’s eyes soon rolled back, a bloody foam forming at her mouth.

Walking back towards the house, it seemed like Mongrel had his end under control. She saw two of his boys brutally wail on a man who had curled up on the ground, hands weakly raised in a plea for mercy.

The chimps didn’t hold back. She could empathize with the bandit’s haunting screams, having been on the receiving end of those creatures herself.

Will gave a shout from inside, and Mongrel called for his boys to stop; allowing the man to live, if only barely.

She didn’t see any other movement. It seemed they were in the clear.

Bee went back inside the house. Will was on his feet, hands on hips, and looked rather displeased.

“Do I even need to tell you how stupid that was?” he asked.

Bee shrugged. “That was easy, though. She didn’t even touch me.”

“If I tell you to do something, I need you to do it.”

“Will we get in trouble for killing these people?” Bee asked, ignoring his previous statement.

“Depends on if they’re friends with anyone important. I’m guessing no, but I’ll ask the guy we left alive a few questions to make sure.”

“Right. And the bodies?”

“We burn ‘em. Don’t want monsters getting attracted here.”

Nix clapped her hands from her perch up on the cabinets. “Excellent work, my friends. Especially you, Beatrice. Bloodlust becomes you.”

*****

Will locked himself in his workshop with the surviving bandit. Bee wasn’t sure what questions he had in mind for him, but the muffled screaming suggested that they were of a rather invasive nature.

Bee and Mongrel heaped the corpses in a pile and covered them in a flammable liquid Will provided that smelled like stale flatulence. ‘Troll oil’, apparently. They got a merry pyre going, and soon the smell of troll oil was overtaken by the blunt odor of charred flesh.

Mongrel sat on the ground and drank from a bottle of some mystery alcohol while he watched the fire. Bee joined him, and had a swig as well. It tasted like vodka. She had a few more swallows.

“I threw up the first time I killed a man,” he said, flames reflected in his eyes. He glanced over at her. “How you holding up, Fumbles?”

“I don’t feel anything,” she said, quite truthfully.

They had been too weak to make for a real fight.

Will emerged before the fire had started to dwindle, wiping his bloody hands on a rag. “They were nobodies,” he announced. “We don’t have anything to worry about.”

The chimps fetched the body from the workshop, throwing it on the pile.

Nix came and joined them after a while, sitting behind Mongrel and tilting his head back to rest against her smooth stomach. Will went over to Bee’s side and fussed with the wound in her shoulder. First he disinfected it, then he smeared a thick poultice on it, and lastly he forced her to choke down a healing potion, which she chased with vodka—or whatever it was.

They sat up for a good long while, passing the bottle around until the corpses had burned down to a misshapen mound of soggy embers. Then, without saying a word, they got up and went back inside.

Bee slept well that night, with Will wrapped in her arms.

*****

Bee spent the next few days mostly just keeping busy. She chopped wood, she played with the chimps, she helped Will with small errands, and she exercised.

Four days after the bandits attacked, while Bee was doing push-ups in the yard with Number Five on her back, a tall man strolled into the clearing. His left arm was covered by the folds of a cloak, which alarmed her enough that she shoved the chimp off of her and jumped to her feet.

“Peace!” the man called, and raised his left hand high for Bee to see. Eleven crystals. His symbol depicted a harp, meaning he was an Entertainer. Will had been forcing her to memorize them all.

“Who are you?” Bee asked. She found herself reaching for her sword, only to realize that she had left it in the house.

“You’re Cancer’s girl, yeah?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I’m Big Deal Buck. I’ll be teaching you some stuff.”

He unclasped his cloak and let it fall to the ground, wearing a white blouse and tight black trousers underneath. He stepped forward, offering a handshake. She reluctantly took his hand, and Buck turned up her arm so he could get a good look at her sheet.

“Level 3, huh?” he mused in a rich, humming voice. “We’ll have to do something about that.”

Will wandered into the yard, and Bee relaxed a little when she saw that he didn’t look alarmed.

“You’re late,” Will said as he reached them, crossing his arms.

Buck gave a vague, noncommittal gesture. “Eh, I had a few detours.” He let his hand rest on the rounded guard of a saber sticking up from his hip.

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter.” Will nodded towards Buck’s arm. “You leveled up, I see.”

“I haven’t just been sitting around. Losing to you kinda lit a fire under my ass, actually.”

“I saw that they upped your bounty, too—7 500 graces isn’t too shabby.”

Buck flipped his wavy hair back with a winning smile. “That old cuck’s finally starting to take me seriously.”

“Sounds like you’ve got me training with a bandit,” Bee noted.

“Only the most notorious bandit in the greater Sheerhome region,” Buck corrected with obvious pride.

Will thumbed at the scar on his nose. “Him and Brimstone don’t see eye to eye, so as far as anyone’s concerned, you’ve never met him. But he’s the best melee fighter I know, so you’re in good hands.”

“Great, then.” Bee clapped her hands together. “When do we get started, teach?”

“Right now,” Buck replied.

“Oh, okay. And what do I—”

He kicked her in the chest and sent her sprawling on her back.