Soft sunlight brushed against his face, and he woke to the sounds of birds singing. The air was brisk and damp. He opened his eyes to find a tangled mop of oily blonde hair resting on the crook of his shoulder. The pair were wrapped in furs next to the black charcoal of the fire near the cave’s mouth. His body was stiff from the cold, and his muscles ached. He felt a deep rumbling in his stomach and realized that his body was fighting back an unscheduled ejection of a dangerous substance.

Ben slowly removed his arm from under the older woman, who was fast asleep, snoring softly. He smiled and tiptoed out of the cave so as not to wake the sleeping Healer. He walked around the rocky outcrop and found a secluded area where he could deposit his payload.

He squatted and pulled down his sticky trousers to his ankles before expelling a furious acidic liquid from his rear. He was startled at the enthusiasm his body showed at the action. Ben sighed. The weird mushrooms he had eaten the previous night did not seem to agree with his existence.

He turned to pick up some dead leaves to wipe the smoking port when he heard the sound of footsteps crunching the dead leaves and pine needles on the forest floor. He panicked, furiously wiping his rear in hopes that he wouldn’t be seen by Ann in such a compromising position.

"______’s ballsack. Benny-boy, is that you?"

Ben froze. He looked up to see the scarred face of an old woman staring down at him with smiling eyes. The woman’s expression lit up at the obvious discomfort the young man was experiencing at that moment. She wore the same grey-black armor. The mail around her midsection was loose and appeared to be stained dark black. She had a large mace strapped to her back; the shaft was almost as tall as she was, and the head was an angry assortment of angular steel. It looked heavy, he thought.

"The day keeps getting better and better. Say, what brings you to this side of town? Do you come here often?" she teased.

Her face was dirty with soot and dried blood. If she was tired, he couldn’t tell.

"Ainsle. You made it," Ben said as he scrambled to pull up his trousers.

"Yeah. Seems so." She folded her arms. "You know, a girl’s starting to think you’re a bit of an exhibitionist."

Ben cringed. He stood up and remembered just how short the woman was.

"Did the others make it out safe?" He asked

"Nope. They all got fucked." The grin seemed plastered to her face.

Ben’s eyes widened in shock. Ainsle relented.

"Fine. A handful managed to escape, but the outpost’s truly fucked. The Lordling and his lackeys left yesterday. The Captain, Jor and I kept at it till we were finally overrun last night." Her grin vanished, and she mumbled while looking off into the distance. "Lost the Captain. Hope the others got away in time."

As soon as the moment of melancholy came, it went. Ainsle’s usual grin appeared once more.

"But you don’t have to worry about that. You seem fine and fit as a fiddle. Also," She leaned closer. "I’d be fine too if I was knocking boots with a pretty lady like our Healer friend."

"Whhat?" Ben stammered.

"Relax. I was hornier than you when I was your age. Shit, I couldn’t even hold a flask between my knees for longer than a bell." She winked.

How did I end up here?

"Ainsle, did you find... Oh. You." A familiar, raven-haired woman appeared from around the outcrop.

Jor looked tired. Her beautiful green eyes were bloodshot, and her freckled face was hidden behind dirt and soot. Her neat braid had come undone, and her absurdly long hair blew in the wind like a dark-frizzled cape. Her bow was strapped to her shoulder, and a near-empty quiver sat on her hip. The shortsword she had worn before was missing.

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"I was telling Benny that he was lucky to have left with the camp’s only Healer. Not that we could’ve used her magic or anything." She said sarcastically.

"Ain, enough, please. Ben? What happened?" she asked in consternation.

Ben described the events of the previous day. He tried to be as concise as possible. Jor’s gaze dropped at the mention of the confrontation with Eric. She seemed ashamed at the actions of the monster in human skin.

"I’m sorry about Eric. He is… willful at times. That was probably the best outcome. I’m glad you’re okay."

Ben tilted his head in confusion at Jor’s defense of Eric. He was about to comment when Ainsle interrupted his train of thought.

"Let’s go wake sleeping beauty. I need something looked at."

Ainsle lifted the plate and mail covering her stomach to reveal chiseled abs and an angry red wound that appeared to have been hastily cauterized. Ben stared with wide, open eyes. He hesitated a moment before he led the duo to the cave, where Ann was still snoring away.

He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and leaned in toward her ear to whisper.

"Ann, could you get up? We have visitors."

The woman’s blue eyes opened slowly, and she smiled before wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Good morning, my heart," she said, voice sleepy and coarse from the previous day’s antics.

Ben felt awkward at the contact. His back stiffened. The previous evening had allowed the pair to reconcile and begin forming a renewed bond of friendship. Sure, he woke to her sleeping on his shoulder, but that was due to the necessity of having to share limited covers for the evening. He was wide awake and felt very conscious of the physical affection, especially with onlookers. He chalked it up to it being another one of her eccentricities.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, sensing his reaction.

Ann looked over Ben’s shoulder and saw a pair of dirty, armored women. One with long, flowing black hair pointedly avoided the exchange. The other, a scarred, mature woman grinning from ear to ear. She disentangled from Ben and propped herself up among the furs.

"Squad leader Jor, Vanguard Ainsle. What brings the two of you here?" She addressed the two women by their titles.

Jor spoke. "Priestess, Ann. Good morning. We find ourselves in need of your magic."

She gestured to Ainsle, who exposed her wound.

"My Vanguard suffered a wound during the attack at the outpost. She managed to perform field cauterization to stem the bleeding, but, as you know, our supplies of healing potions have been running quite low recently…" She paused. "I believe that your contract has been paid for three months in advance?"

Ann seemed to consider the woman’s words. She stood and slipped on her boots. Ann approached Ainsle and inspected the wound.

"I’m afraid there’s not much I can do," she said plainly. Stepping back to stand beside Ben.

Jor’s face showed signs of surprise.

"You mean to say I’m too far gone?" Ainsle grimaced as she covered her abdomen.

Jor interjected.

"Priestess, surely the damage isn’t so grievous that a Bind Wounds spell couldn’t repair?" She looked at Ann suspiciously. "Or is it that you refuse to aid us?"

Ann shook her head.

"Not at all." She looked at Ben, who returned her gaze questioningly. "If I was able to, I would. But unfortunately, I’m not a Healer."

Ainsle’s mouth fell agape. The squad leader frowned.

"What do you mean?" Asked Jor incredulously.

"I mean what I said. I know Aura magic, some of which aids the body. If given enough time in my care, I could accelerate the body’s natural healing to a significant degree."

Jor’s brows furrowed. Anger in her eyes.

"You impersonated a Healer to get the contract? The whole farce was for monetary gain?" She reprimanded. "People’s lives depended on you… but you… you deceived us?!"

Ainsle looked up at Ann from her grimacing. Ann remained silent.

"So, I’m thinking that if we had a real Healer at the outpost, Willy might’ve been standing here with us now. Instead of bleeding out in the mud."

Ainsle’s tone frightened Ben most of all. It was calm. Frigid. Devoid of the usual witty edge or vulgar remarks.

The short woman lifted her hand above her head and wrapped her fingers slowly around the shaft of the giant mace. She spoke clearly and deliberately as she unholstered the terrible implement of violence from her back.

"There’s always entitled little princesses like you who walk all over the common folk."

Ainsle held the two-handed weapon effortlessly in one hand, midshaft leaning over her shoulder. The weight of the macehead, high above her, didn’t seem to affect her at all.

Ben panicked. Ainsle’s tone suggested violence, and the way she effortlessly carried that weapon, further suggested that she was capable of dishing out said violence. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, and without thinking, he stepped in front of Ann, gently ushering her behind him with the back of his palm.

"Ainsle, let’s take a minute to talk this out," Ben said warily.

Jor remained silent, eyes darting to observe the scene. She appeared to be dealing with an inner conflict herself. Ainsle let the massive mace drop to the ground in between them. Hand still loosely gripping the shaft. Ben felt the impact of the weapon on the ground through his bones. He shivered.

"And there’s always young, dumb boys who fall for bitches like that."