The remaining members of the band immediately drew weapons of various shapes and states of repair. One of the more prominent men pointed to Jor.

“The bitch don’t have any arrows!” He shouted.

Ben snapped his head to Jor’s position and confirmed that she, indeed, did not have any more arrows. He grew nervous as the trio were outnumbered. Suddenly, a frigid blast of something intangible washed over him. It felt like a gust from a snowy mountain peak. The four men seemed to react to the feeling physically. They visibly shuddered. One of them, eyes wide, had begun taking steps backward, a look of terror on his face.

The large man seemed to resist the unseen force and began to advance on Ann. The Squad Leader crouched and drew a long knife from her boot before flipping its grip from haft to tip. She assumed a wide stance. The knife blade was held close to her temple between her thumb and index finger. Ben grabbed a piece of deadwood and scrambled to protect the Priestess. He also tried and failed to appear to know what he was doing.

“Oi, cunts!” called a familiar voice.

Ben sighed in relief as Ainsle appeared in the clearing behind the band. Her mace was still embedded in the ground a few paces to his right, but he was confident that the woman didn’t need the weapon to be dangerous. She strolled casually towards the group while tightening her gauntlets.

“Fuck off, granny,” said the large man.

Oof… You shouldn’t have said that.

Ainsle grinned. Ben swallowed at the casual gesture. She kept her steady pace. Eyes smiling all the while.

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to fucking swear in the presence of a Priestess? It’s bloody bad luck you know?” She mocked.

The large man ignored her and lifted his axe before charging towards Ann. Ben felt something draw his attention to the cave. He saw Jor kiss the blade of the knife she held. Her big, green eyes appeared to alight momentarily, and the air around the blade distorted as if reality bent around the weapon. In an almost imperceivable motion, she threw the knife. Ben felt something warm and wet spray the back of his head and neck. He turned to see the large man tumbling toward the forest floor. His eyes widened, and he dropped the piece of wood.

The man’s head and neck had exploded in a gory mess. He couldn’t even see anything that resembled parts of his face. Blood fountained in pulses from where his neck used to be—so much blood. A distant crack and a tree crash jolted Ben from his morbid musing. He looked to the source of the noise and guessed the trajectory of the blade Jor had thrown.

Not a second later, he saw the middle-aged woman walk up, ever so casually, to a tall man furthest from the cave. The height discrepancy between herself and the man meant she had to jump to reach her target. At the apex of said jump, her back arched. Elbow drawn behind her. Her hips twisted mid-air, and her fist followed. The man’s jaw vaporized. She landed heavily on the ground. Ben felt his jaw clench at witnessing such a devastatingly beautiful hook. The two remaining men dropped their weapons and made a run for it.

“Ain,” Jor said in a tone that Ben couldn’t decipher.

The scarred woman considered Jor then the retreating men. Her gaze fell on the leader's body, and her grin vanished. She looked to Jor once more and nodded.

The Squad Leader, face impassive, returned her nod and picked up her bow. She began a jog towards the bandits, quickly stopping to retrieve arrows from eye sockets. She broke into a sprint and soon disappeared into the woods.

Ben felt sick. He took in the scene before him. He still wasn’t used to such wanton carnage. He turned to check on Ann, who had, sometime during the conflict, fallen into a kneeling position, hands clutching the pendant around her neck. Her eyes were closed, and her unmarred face serene. He lowered himself to one knee and clasped a boney hand around hers. She opened her deep blue eyes and met his gaze. She smiled.

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“You protected me,” she said softly.

“Well…” He started, suddenly feeling that the moment had taken an unexpected turn.

She closed her eyes, lifted his hand to her lips, and gently kissed his knuckles.

“It’s the intent.” She opened her eyes once more and smiled.

“Hey, Priestess, I could use a good shag too.” The pair heard the teasing voice of Ainsle.

Ben, embarrassed, stood and helped Ann to her feet. He faced the scarred woman, who, with the ever-present shit-eating grin, fell face-first to the forest floor.

“AINSLE!” Exclaimed Ben as he rushed to her side.

The Priestess followed immediately after.

“How had she stayed upright all this time?” Ben asked no one in particular.

“Help me get her inside the cave,” Ann instructed. Ben complied.

Heavy. The pair dragged the form of the diminutive Berserker to the shade of the cave. Ann began undressing the older woman—unstrapping plates and pulling off boots.

“I thought you said you weren’t a Healer?” Ben commented.

“I’m not a Healer, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know basic care.” She spoke as she continued her task. “All acolytes, even those of _________, learn how to administer treatment to supplicants and the faithful.”

Ben paused. Something had been gnawing at him for a while.

“Ann, either I’m going deaf or crazy.”

“What’s that?” Asked Ann absently.

“Could you tell me the name of your God again?”

The Priestess frowned. Ainsle was down to her mail and gambeson.

“What? _________?”

“One more time?”

“__________...”

She looked at him and tilted her head in confusion.

“Okay. Can we take some time to talk later?” Ben asked.

Ann stopped. And she considered him intently. She leaned closer, hands resting on the poor woman’s abdomen. Ainsle let out a wheeze.

“Oh, sorry.” She flinched and adjusted herself to avoid injuring the patient any further.

“Is something the matter?” Her voice was concerned.

“Maybe. I don’t know. If you’re willing, I’d like us to continue our conversation from the sick bay a few days ago.”

She nodded and continued her care of the scarred woman.

“I can manage the rest on my own here. Besides, if you really want to see a woman’s body, we can add that to our schedule later.” She winked. Ben sighed, and Ann continued.

“If you’re able, we should tend to our visitors before they decide to wake up again. The saturation isn’t as dense here as the Fringe, but we’re close enough that it would be prudent to do so.”

She gestured with her chin to the bodies of the bandits strewn about the clearing. Ben nodded and gulped. He felt a pit open up in his stomach. He decided his squeamishness would make the task difficult, but he wouldn’t show weakness. He stood up and walked toward the corpses.

Late afternoon arrived, and Ben had managed to gather all the bodies and erect a pyre. He realized that perhaps he had bitten off more than he could chew. Building a pyre wasn’t easy, especially for an amateur. It had taken him nearly four hours to gather deadwood, stack them with the corpses so that they wouldn’t fall over, and to ignite the fire. He only threw up once, taking care to do so quietly, out of sight of the Priestess. The young man was exhausted.

He wondered when Jor would return and hoped the bandits didn’t trouble her. Earlier, he gathered all the weapons and anything he deemed valuable in a pile near the campfire. He found strange tokens or coins with markings he hadn’t seen before. He assumed that the coins were the currency of the land. He returned to the cave to check on Ainsle.

As he approached, he heard a familiar soft humming. He glimpsed the Berserker’s nude form half-covered by the furs they had used as blankets the night before. Ann laid out fresh pine needles on the dirt near the patient. It looked like a sleeping area of sorts. Another thing caught Ben’s attention as he entered the cave. He felt a subtle feeling of wellness and warmth when he heard the Priestesses humming. The effect grew more tangible the closer he got. He recalled the frigid, oppressive feeling from earlier during the conflict.

“Hey, how’s she doing?” Ben asked.

“Better,” Ann said, turning to look up at him. “She just needs rest. She’s exceptionally resilient; I can say that for sure. Anyone else would’ve been dead on their feet a day ago.”

Been sighed in relief.

“That’s amazing.” He exhaled.

His stomach grumbled. He realized he hadn’t eaten all day. He politely refused the danger mushrooms Ann had offered him during their foraging trip. His mouth watered at the thought of the delicious crabs waiting outside. He recalled the other reason for approaching the Priestess.

“By the way. Earlier, when those men were outside.” He paused.

“Hmm?”

“I felt something cold… Like an icy breeze. Was that an Aura? I didn’t hear a chant or anything.”

“Icy breeze? Yes, I suppose you would interpret it that way, and yes, it was an Aura. Being a Priestess of… um, being a Priestess of my God, naturally my specialties, namely Auras, would align with His… nature.”

Ann seemed to gather her words,

“How about we talk about it tonight, during our date,” she teased. “It’ll give me some time to figure out how to explain these concepts best.”

Ben chuckled. He appreciated her flirting, even though he knew it wouldn’t amount to more than teasing.

“Right. Tonight then.”