The young man and three women of varying ages stood around a campfire in the clearing of woods near The Vale of Moons. Ben thought the band to be an odd mix of characters. The sun hadn’t fully risen yet, and the air felt brisk and fresh with the promise of an eventful day ahead.

He looked toward the Blonde-haired Priestess and spoke.

“Last night, Jor mentioned the whereabouts of a scholar that might give me some insight as to my origins and, hopefully, get me on the path to regain some of my memories.”

Ann nodded to indicate that he should continue.

“How far was it?” Ben asked the Archer.

“About four days walk to Honeydew, as I told Ben last night-” She turned to the Priestess. “-we were headed there before we met the two of you here.”

Ann nodded and frowned before meeting the young man’s eyes questioningly.

“I see. I think making the trip to Honeydew would be the most prudent course. Besides, I agreed to help your Vanguard, and I intend to honor the promise.”

“Excellent. We should pack the… goods that Ben managed to salvage. I believe the bandits had heavy purses?” Jor turned to Ben.

“Well, yes, I suppose. I stored all the coins in this sack.”

He rummaged through the pile of loot and hefted a significantly heavy burlap sack. The thud of clinking metal on dirt seemed to elicit a reaction from the pair of soldiers. Ben continued.

“I didn’t quite figure out the value of the denominations, so I just gave up on counting and tossed them together during the, uh, cleanup.”

Ainsle let out a low whistle after having peeked inside the half-opened bag.

“Looks like those fuckers were busy, alright. They’re scum, you see. Looters.” The Berserker’s expression grew cold. “One of the cunts wore Willy’s armor.”

A pause of silence was shared between the four.

“But fuck 'em. They got done in good, so I’m happy. Looks like we’re set for a while.” She wiggled her brows at Jor, who rolled her eyes in response.

“The scavengers probably stalked the outpost during the undead attack. There is a vantage point on a hill nearby. I followed one of them back to their temporary camp and found that they had been there for what seemed like a few days.” She frowned. “As if they expected the camp to be attacked.”

Ainsle grunted.

“Yah, they’d have to be dumb as shit to have planned a hit and run on a military outpost.”

Ann, uncharacteristically, spoke up.

“They were more than opportunists, it seems. Though opportunity often arises at points of convergence.”

Jor frowned, and Ben thought that the ladies had been doing an awful lot of frowning recently.

“Whether it was a convergence or not,” the Archer broke the silence. “We should really get a move on. There’s a village about a day away, and if we maintain a steady pace, we should be able to reach it by nightfall.”

Nods of agreement from the three women caused Ben to nod along as if he understood precisely what the pair had spoken about, which he did not, naturally. The camp’s occupants got to work, packing the most valuable odds and ends from the pile of loot. The Priestess managed to fashion a satchel by tearing fabric from the hem of her dress. Ben could almost see her knees! He wondered if the dress would be a skirt by the time they reached their destination.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Here we go again.

He told himself.

Ainsle caught Ben staring and elbowed him in the ribs while winking in a manner that drew the attention of both the Archer and the Priestess to the implied voyeurism. He sighed and continued the task of sorting through daggers, the odd lantern, and other useless trinkets. Ann had, at the behest of Jor, reluctantly armed herself with a dagger that she strapped to the side of her boot.

Jor chided Ainsle regarding her attire. The Berserker protested but relented after her Squad leader said that she couldn’t prance around the woods dressed like some hermit witch. She grudgingly went to put on her armor. Ben stole an innocent glance and saw a body, lean with scars and corded muscle. His eye twitched at the juxtaposition of her apparent age and her physical condition.

After a while, the party was ready to depart, and the band began their trek through the woods.

Roughly an hour had passed, and the sun drifted lazily across the sky, and Ben was grateful that the forest's canopy kept its harsh light at bay. The party came across a rather large amphibian. Ben likened its size to a horse. The frog tried to have a taste of the bite-sized Berserker but soon found that the scarred woman was all too eager to bite back.

“Benny-boy! Can you do something with this?” She held up the hindleg of the limp creature.

Ben considered her question, and surprisingly, images of seared frogs' legs flashed in his mind. He couldn’t attest to the flavor, but his memory suggested that they were, at the very least, edible.

“Yeah, sure,” he replied.

Jor seemed to stiffen at the exchange. Ainsle whistled a merry tune as she butchered the poor creature. The other two women watched in various states of expression, from shock to disgust, and then the sudden realization that the amphibian’s legs would be dinner that night.

Ben took the time to rest his aching legs. He was terribly thin, and it had only been a few days since waking up on the beach near the Vale of Moons. Ann came to sit next to him.

“We should be vigilant. There are predators here that would give even the most seasoned of hunters pause.” She said eyes closed. “I felt the creatures at the edge of my Aura. They come and go as if watching us.”

“Where?” he said, eyes darting, hand on the short sword at his hip.

“They’ve been quiet for a while, but I expect that may change soon.”

She opened her eyes, and Ben was startled at her expression. It was as if she felt shame or regret. Ben couldn’t decipher which.

“How long have they followed us for? And why didn’t you say anything before now?”

“I’m… inadequate… I thought I could repel them… I’m sorry, my sweet. I can’t keep the Aura up for much longer.” Her eyes began to close as her body went limp.

Ben caught the Priestess before she could fall to the forest floor.

“JOR, AINSLE!” he cried.

The pair rushed to his aid.

“What happened?” Jor asked, concerned. Her bow in hand. Ainsle held her great mace in a low two-handed grip. The squad leader noticed the limp form of the Priestess.

“She said something about predators. I don’t know. Her Aura? I didn’t even feel anything,” Ben blabbered incoherently.

“Ben. BEN!” Jor snapped the young man out of his nonsensical tirade. “What predators? And where are they now?”

“I don’t know! She said they had been watching us. She was maintaining an Aura this whole time!”

Jor seemed disturbed at the information. She glanced toward Ainsle, who, with a stoic expression, nodded and began circling, back facing Ben and Ann. Jor knelt in a crouch and prepared to nock a crude arrow. Her eyes scanned their surroundings.

The deafening susurration of leaves and a calm breeze grated on Ben’s ears. A shadow. It moved imperceptibly quickly in the periphery of his vision. Another one in the opposite direction. Jor drew her bowstring and seemed to be tracking… something. She loosed an arrow and nocked another. Silence.

“Witigo,” she spoke calmly.

“Yep, seems about right,” came an uncharacteristically severe reply from the Berserker. “Did you get one?”

“No,” replied the archer.

Ben felt every agonizing second as if it were an eternity. Seconds turned into minutes. The party waited in silence.

“Move, now,” the Squad Leader ordered.

The young man obeyed and lifted the non-responsive Priestess in a princess carry. He was weak, and he struggled to maintain a steady pace. The soldiers flanked the excruciatingly slow flight. They made it about fifteen paces from the corpse of the amphibian before the Berserker spun on her heel and swung her great mace in a terrifying arc. Ben felt his ears pop as the displaced air of the maneuver seemed to knock the wind out of his lungs.

A heavy thud followed by a screeching, inhuman wail was the next thing to assault his ears. The Archer had also spun and aimed her bow toward the area before them. Ben couldn’t see the creature at all. A familiar vibration disturbed his throat, and he glanced toward Jor, who had called forth her Avatar. He watched her intently, as he had no hope of tracking the creatures with his eyes.

Her slender back arched, and her shoulders drew the powerful bowstring to the limit. Her long raven-colored braid fluttered. A kiss. Her eyes shone with pure white light. She spoke without sound.

“Repulse.”