“Do you think she’s watching us?” Marina asked as Friedrich turned back into a human. They had run from the bridge where the hooded archer had chosen not to kill them without looking back.

“I have no doubt that she’s watching the road,” said Friedrich, “but I don’t think she means to kill us. In any case, I would rather not get on her bad side if I can help it. We’re lucky she wasn’t a simple bandit content on shooting us, robbing us and leaving us to bleed to death.”

“Yes, that is, umm…reassuring?” said Marina.

“Hold on,” said Friedrich, holding up a hand. “Over by the roadside, do you see that?”

Marina squinted. “No, what am I looking for?”

“Look to the right. There are wagon tracks heading off the path and over to the trees.”

“Ah, I see it now. Let’s keep moving and get out of here then, shall we?”

“Yes, let’s make haste.”

Friedrich and Marina ran down the road, looking to put as much distance between themselves and the wagon trail as they could. They sped on past it, but Marina suddenly stopped upon hearing a woman’s scream.

“Don’t stop,” said Friedrich.

“But someone needs help,” she said uneasily.

“That isn’t our concern right now. Do you want to get on the bad side of that archer? She seemed a lot more capable than Muriance and he’s caused us trouble enough.”

“I…I don’t know…”

“Now really isn’t the time to get sentimental about people you don’t know.”

“It’s not sentimentality, it’s compassion,” said Marina, turning and running along the wagon tracks.

Friedrich grunted in frustration and followed, intending to drag her back by her feet if he must. Marina ran straight through the trees and Friedrich saw a flash of her lightning as he caught up to her. There was a loud howl and a wolf burst past them, running in terror with a large chunk of his fur burned off by Marina’s bolt.

“Thank goodness,” came a relieved woman’s voice as she stepped out from behind her horse-drawn wagon. “We thought we were done for.”

“Yes,” said a man, picking up a sword from the ground. “That was most gracious of you, to help strangers in need.”

“You’re welcome,” said Marina, as Friedrich subtly tugged at her cloak. “I’m just glad to be able to help.”

“At least let us offer you some food,” said the woman, reaching into one of the bags on the wagon and pulling out a roll of bread.

She smiled sweetly; her face framed by her black hair as she passed the bread to Marina. The man nodded approvingly with a similarly kind smile. As Marina reached for the bread, Friedrich grabbed her arm.

“No, thank you,” said Friedrich. “We have plenty of food and don’t need repayment for a good deed. We wish you well, but now we’ll be on our way.”

“It’s a nice gesture,” said Marina, pulling her arm from Friedrich’s grip and accepting the roll with a nod of her head. “I was going to share it with you, Friedrich.”

“Will the two of you stay for a while?” asked the woman. “It’s been a long journey and the company would be most welcome.”

“What are your names?” asked Friedrich, suspicious of the two travellers.

“My name is Elbert,” said the man. “This is my wife, Ysolda.”

“A pleasure,” said the woman, curtseying.

“Where are you travelling to?” asked Friedrich.

Elbert laughed. “I understand that you do not trust strangers you have just met, and you would be right to, but I assure you that we mean you no harm. We took a short detour to rest for a while and were beset upon by that filthy wolf.”

“Where are you travelling to?” repeated Friedrich.

“You’re being unnecessarily rude again,” muttered Marina, trying to hide her annoyance by maintaining her smile.

“Akatfall,” said Ysolda.

“That’s where we’re going too!” exclaimed Marina.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

“Excuse us for a moment,” said Friedrich pulling her aside. “Are you mad? These could be the two that the archer was looking for. Regardless of their intentions, we’re in danger by just being here.”

“These two seem perfectly nice,” said Marina. “Is it right that we leave them to be assassinated?”

“You were terrified of the archer minutes ago.”

“But I can’t stand by and let innocents get hurt.”

Marina walked back towards the two and raised the bread to her mouth, but an arrow suddenly struck it and the bread flew from her hand. The arrow landed in a tree trunk, where it pinned the bread.

“Zar’futh!” called Ysolda in a warbling, echoey voice.

Suddenly, her innocent face turned grey and two horns erupted from her forehead. Her travelling clothes faded away in a swirling of black mist, only to be replaced by armour of metal and bone. In a flash, Elbert also revealed his own true form, with his sword changing from a Mercian broadsword into a curved sword of black metal that he raised, rushing to attack Marina.

Friedrich rushed to her defence, drawing his own blade. Before he could thrust his sword, a whirling figure leapt from the trees with her bow raised and drawn back. She unleashed an arrow through the top of the demon’s head and he fell forwards dead.

“I told you to stay away,” came the woman’s muffled voice.

The female demon burst forwards; her hands were covered in blue fire that she hurled at the three. Friedrich stepped in front of Marina, raising his shield and blocking the fireballs which hissed as they petered out. The archer nimbly sidestepped the fiery volley and ran for her quarry.

“You die today,” said the archer as she drew back an arrow.

“Gaz fyth miir, Blackjack,” echoed the demon, causing the archer to hesitate.

The demon swept her arm through the air in a horizontal arc, sending a wave of flame. The archer ducked, but a surprise low fireball courtesy of the hellish fiend struck her on the arm. She winced and the demon charged at her, drawing a dagger and stabbing the archer in the side.

Friedrich threw his shield at the demon, who raised her arms to block. Seizing the distraction, he lunged forward with his sword stretched out, stabbing the demon in the gut. He pulled his blade free and slashed it across her exposed throat. She collapsed in a heap as she tried to curse his name in her foul tongue, but all that escaped were hoarse whispers.

“Are you alright?” asked Marina, rushing over to the archer, who was clutching her side.

“No,” she said in a strained voice. “I believe that blade was imbued with something nefarious, much like your bread. At least…at least those demonic tricksters are dead.”

Friedrich opened his mouth to speak.

“Don’t say it,” said Marina, turning around and pointing a finger at Friedrich.

“I wasn’t going to say what you thought I was about to say,” said Friedrich. He knew now wasn’t the time to gloat about how right he was, true as it may have been. “I just want to know if there’s anything we can do to help, Blackjack.”

“Blackjack?” asked Marina.

Friedrich nodded. “That’s what the demons called you, archer, was it not?”

“Yes,” she muttered, climbing to her feet. “We need to get back to my camp where my remedies are.”

As Blackjack tried to walk, she collapsed, but was caught by Friedrich who put his arm around her. She was taller than him by a couple of inches, but she was slumped over so much that she seemed much shorter.

“Direct us,” said Friedrich. “Marina, have your staff at the ready in case there’s anything else lurking nearby.”

“Right,” said Marina, holding her staff close to her chest and looking around anxiously.

“Go back to the bridge,” said Blackjack, allowing Friedrich to take the lead.

The three moved as swiftly as Blackjack’s ailment permitted. As they hurried along, the shrouded archer left a trail of blood behind her, while she tried to stem the flow of blood pouring from her leather armour.

“The pouch on my belt,” she said to Friedrich. “There is a red vial…pour it into my mouth. When we reach the bridge, go up the hill.”

Friedrich did as she asked, stashing the empty bottle haphazardly back inside and spilling a few of the remaining droplets within the pouch. Blackjack did not seem to care and breathed easier until they reached the bridge and started ascending the hill to the east.

Blackjack’s eyes were starting to glaze over, but she weakly raised her gloved hand and pointed to a small tower whose peak crept out from above the trees. The blood had stopped dripping from her wound, but Marina could see the wound between the tear in her leather armour; it was turning black.

“Top…of…tower…” she muttered, her eyes rolling back in her head. “Drink…purple…and pour…green…in that order.”

Blackjack’s head flopped over and her limbs fell limp. She was weighing Friedrich down, so he hoisted her over his shoulder and forced his burning legs to ascend the hill while Marina continually scanned the surrounding area for anything nearby, but all seemed quiet.

Friedrich carried Blackjack through the small wooded area and towards the tower. It appeared to be abandoned, overgrown with vines and the surrounding trees almost as tall as it. The entryway had been cut free already and Friedrich rushed inside, climbing the circular staircase that spiralled around the inside of the tower. He carefully set Blackjack down as Marina leaned over the edge of the battlements to see if anything had dared follow them.

Blackjack had very little stashed here. There was not even the remnants of a campfire, there was only a single pack which appeared to be packed very lightly. Normally, Friedrich wouldn’t have gone through a woman’s possessions, but he made an exception and threw the top flap open, rummaging to see if he could find anything containing purple and green liquids.

“Drink purple, pour green,” said Friedrich as he pulled out two small vials. “Drink purple, pour green. Drink purple, pour green. Pour green where?”

“On the wound!” called Marina.

“Right, yes,” said Friedrich, uncorking the purple liquid.

He pulled Blackjack’s mouth, revealing her pale golden skin. He now knew why she concealed her identity so, for she was an Alaurian—a high elf. He tipped the contents of the vial into her mouth, but she immediately started dribbling, unable to swallow properly, forcing Friedrich feed her little by little, holding the vial in one hand while keeping her jaw steady with the other. Once the vial was empty, Friedrich rolled her onto her side and pulled the stopper from the green vial and spread it across the knife wound on her left side.

“Is it working?” asked Marina as soon as the vial was empty.

“I don’t know,” said Friedrich.

Blackjack suddenly sat up, her eyes jolting wide open. She gasped agonisingly before slumping back down unconscious.

“What do we do?” asked Marina.

“We wait,” said Friedrich, falling backwards onto the ground and staring up at the clear sky. “There’s nothing else we can do now.”