A comfortable breeze blew through the clearing. Ben sat at the dying campfire with a Priestess fast asleep on his lap. The revelations of the conversation he had with Jor had left Ben overwhelmed. He was anxious to learn of his origins, and the scholar, as mentioned by the Archer, seemed to be his best bet.
The raven-haired woman had left him alone with his thoughts after her confession. He wondered how prevalent incestual relationships were in Aetheria. He deduced that perhaps it was just one of the eccentricities of those who wielded such terrifying power. He only had three people to reference, which may not be the best sample size.
I suppose I’d have a hard time keeping it together, too, if I could disintegrate heads with my bare hands.
He was distracted from his contemplation as Ann abruptly began snoring so loudly that the sound echoed into the cave where the two soldiers were sleeping.
Ben watched as the diminutive blonde woman slept as if she had no care in the world. He thought about how their new relationship had been strained by his outbursts the day prior. He wasn’t exactly sure what the Priestess felt for him, but he suspected that it was due, in large part, to the image of him that she had conjured in her mind prior to their meeting. She had created a fictitious persona of somebody who didn’t exist.
He was willing to entertain the idea that she had seen him in a vision. Nothing else made much sense in this world, so he decided that visions and prophecies could very well be true.
A few things bothered Ben about the Priestess. It was not that she flirted often and almost always referred to him with one of her pet names but that if her affections were genuine, he had not earned them. To give in to his base desires would be taking advantage of someone who had saved his life numerous times. It didn’t sit right with him, and he owed her that respect, at the very least.
Another thought for the shelf, eh, Benny?
Ben chuckled as his inner voice tried to mimic the husky drawl of his wounded traveling companion.
He lightly stirred the Priestess, who mumbled and drooled, and he led her to the cave before settling in for the night.
"Uuhnnngggg."
Ben was startled awake by the inhuman moan. The sun appeared to have awoken, and delicate rays of light shone through the trees of the forest. Jor’s silhouette was seen stretching in the early morning sun, apparently unused to sleeping on pine needles and dead leaves in a cave. She appeared to have noticed the rustling of pine needles and turned to address Ben.
"Good morning," she said.
The familiar tone brought back the awkwardness Ben had grappled with the evening prior.
"Morning."
He moved to get up but found his body as stiff as a board. Sometime during the evening, Ann had cuddled up behind Ainsle under the furs. The Priestess’s body wouldn’t share the same fate as Ben and Jor’s. It turned out that sleeping outdoors without any means of insulation from the elements tended to bite you in the arse the following morning. He shuffled to his feet and joined the Archer, who had a boiling pot of pine needles on the fire.
"What’s that?" Ben gestured to the pot.
"It’s pine tea. Apparently, it's very good for you. I have no idea how good it is, since it’s my first time making it." She smiled.
Ben felt an awkwardness scuttle up his spine. He hadn’t thought the squad leader to be melancholic, but the cheerful demeanor the woman was exuding was a big contrast to his impression of her. He supposed that her revelation and acceptance of her feelings for Eric had changed her. For better or for worse, it was yet to be seen.
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"Uh, nice. Looks good." Ben blabbered.
She paused her stretching and turned to him.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah."
Ben remembered the loot he had managed to salvage from the bandits, sitting on a pile a few paces away from the campfire. He was grateful that he could steer his attention away from the thought of forbidden love, so he continued.
"Hey, so I, uh, managed to gather the gear our… friends left behind yesterday."
"Oh. Yes, that was good thinking. You and the Priestess must arm yourselves before we hit the road."
She walked over to the pile of weapons and odd trinkets with a skip in her step. Jor bent over to inspect several weapons before selecting a somewhat tarnished short sword. She turned and handed it to Ben, hilt first.
Wait… Is this supposed to mean something?
He took the offered blade and immediately felt inadequate. His lanky arms made the short sword look like an oversized dagger.
"You have anything up there that tells you how to use one of these?" She asked while tapping the side of her head.
"No," Ben replied, almost defeated.
"Right. I can show you the basics, but I think you’d find a better teacher in Ain."
He glanced back towards the cave to see the stirring form of the Berserker and shuddered at the thought of having that demon as a mentor. Jor noticed his hesitation and spoke up.
"For now, let's replace this belt with this one, see?"
She held a thick leather belt with a loop that could act as a sheath for the weapon. He nodded and silently replaced his thin belt with the thicker one.
"The tea should be about ready by now. Let’s sit and drink. We can talk about the trip today?" she said questioningly.
"Sounds good," Ben replied.
The pair went to sit in front of the campfire. Jor had a wooden bowl she used as a cup; he hadn’t seen it on her person the previous night, so he assumed she had found it during her ‘hunt’ the day before. She scooped some fragrant tea from the pot and delicately blew on the brew. She took a sip with dainty lips, and Ben found himself staring. She offered the bowl to him, returning his stare with a raised brow. Ben drank and immediately sprayed the contents of his mouth all over the Archer’s face.
Her eyes closed tightly, and her mouth went to a thin line. She wiped the concoction from her face and broke out in the most infectious bout of laughter Ben had heard since waking up in this world. He couldn’t help himself, and he mimicked the hysterical display of his new friend.
"It’s quite horrible, isn’t it?" she bellowed between bouts of laughter.
"Not at all. It’s the nectar of the Gods."
Jor rolled on the floor with laughter, and Ben found himself smiling at the pure joy she displayed. He couldn’t help but feel happy for her. The Berserker and the Priestess seemed to have had enough of their antics.
"Gods dammit. Are you two lovebirds done waking up the spirits of the forest?"
Ainsle ambled over, still wrapped in the furs, and sat heavily before the campfire. The Priestess, now devoid of a source of warmth, grumbled an inaudible protest before curling up into a ball in the pine needles.
"What’s this?" Ainsle asked, gesturing to the bitter liquid in the pot.
Jor gracefully picked up the discarded drinking bowl from the dirt and filled it with tea before offering it to the grumpy old woman.
"For you, your majesty. It is said that a mysterious traveler likened the brew to that of a divine nectar." She bowed.
Ben’s stomach was about to burst with laughter. His body shook violently as he struggled to maintain the ruse. The Berserker looked at the bowl and then at Jor with suspicion before shrugging and taking the offered vessel. She threw back the hot liquid in one gulp. She frowned.
"Did this mysterious traveler happen to have a shaved head and sticks for legs?" Ainsle’s gaze suddenly met Ben’s.
The young man froze abruptly. All traces of laughter evaporated in an instant. Two heartbeats passed, and the Berserker bellowed a full and deep laugh before coughing and clutching her wounded stomach. Ben sighed in relief and smiled at Jor, who was positively beaming.
Ann had been woken by the commotion and shambled towards the noisy trio. She sat beside Ben and didn’t comment at seeing the sword on his hip.
"Good morning, my heart." She leaned her head against his shoulder.
The mood seemed to sober a bit. Ben had resolved to get used to the Priestess’ quirks and felt a small victory at not flinching at the contact. He patted her on the shoulder.
"Morning, Ann."
Ben also noticed that the Priestess had made a point of not greeting their companions. Jor and Ainsle didn’t seem bothered by the slight as they continued their back-and-forth ribbing.
After a while, the young man and the women wandered off individually to take care of their natural needs. Ann had helped herself to a serving of the horrid beverage, and Ben swore he heard her curse the Archer under her breath. Once everyone had gathered back at the cave, the squad leader spoke.
"Okay, now that we’re rested, we should talk about our plans for the immediate future."