The gentle, muffled patter of rain on a thatched roof roused Ben from his sleep. The smell of moist soil pleasantly wafted in through an open window. Night had fallen and a warm, subtle orange glow permeated his eyelids.

He opened his eyes to see the dim light cast by a lantern on the crude wooden beams of a low ceiling. He tried to prop himself up on his elbows but found the weight of a blonde head sleeping on his chest made the task difficult. Calm radiated from the Priestess.

He scanned his surroundings and found that he was in a room of a cabin-like structure. The walls were long wooden beams, chinked together with mud for insulation. The bed he found himself and the woman on was crudely made with wood and straw. The room was bare except for a thick stump of wood, used as a bedside table to house a glass oil lamp and Ann’s old waterskin.

The sounds of muted sobbing came from the doorway to his right.

"You’re awake."

A gentle voice drew his attention to the Priestess.

"Ann. What happened? Are you okay?" he spoke with the rasp of a parched throat.

The Priestess sat up on the bed beside him. Her eyes showed signs of exhaustion and lack of sleep.

"I’m okay, my heart. We’re safe for now." Her smile felt warm.

Ben trusted her and her assessment of their circumstances. He paused for a moment to recall the events that had led him here. He took a swig from the waterskin.

"How did I get here? And where is… here?"

"This is Shalebeak village. We made it here a few hours after sunset."

She tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear. The action drew his attention to specks of dried blood on her face. He thought back to Ainsle’s form, one eye blinded, lying on the forest floor. She spoke.

"The Squad Leader and I managed to drag you and the Vanguard here to the village. The trek was slow, but fortunately, we weren’t harried by the forest denizens too much." She spoke with relief in her voice.

Ben considered that they had been more than half a day’s trek from the village before encountering the Witigos. He looked at her with renewed respect and sympathy for the arduous task she had accomplished with her diminutive build.

"Annie, I-"

"You’re safe. That’s all that matters to me," she interrupted with a tone that suggested no reproach would be tolerated.

He averted his gaze in silence.

"You fought bravely. I felt your struggle and, though it tore at my heart to not intervene, I was confident in your victory."

"You mean, the… beast?"

Ben was disturbed by his recollection of his encounter with the entity that dwelled in his dreams. He had fragmented memories of engaging it in a contest of wills. He believed that he had subdued it, yet he couldn’t remember the details of the battle.

"Yes, my Champion." Her eyelids strained under the weight of exhaustion. "You have taken the first step on your path. Now you must learn to Wield its power."

The flame of the lamp fluttered, and the sound of distant thunder shook the air in his lungs.

"This power that you talk about. What is it, and how do I learn to use it?"

"To my perception… it appears to be that of an Avatar, the connection still in its infancy. As to its nature, only you will know."

The Priestess remained silent. As if she expected a response from Ben.

"I… I don’t know what it is. It feels-" He tried to formulate the concepts conveyed by the beast into words. "-like pride. It’s almost as if… When I felt ‘it’, I was arrogant and … I wanted to exert my will on the world."

Ann’s face became thoughtful, and it appeared as if she had come to a conclusion.

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"I shouldn’t speculate as to what it may be, as I fear it may poorly influence your development." She turned to look at the open doorway. "One of us is confronting a weakening connection to their Avatar. You should look to see if you can gain some insight from her, as being so close to losing it, reveals much to the Wielder."

"Ainsle? Is she going to be alright?" he asked, concerned.

"No. And yes, she should live." She held his hand and squeezed gently. "Go to her. I’ll keep the bed warm." She winked.

Ben nodded at the familiar attempt to elicit a reaction from him. She dipped her head to acknowledge her lack of success.

"Alright. Please try to get some rest."

He left the priestess in the bare room and walked on a creaking wooden floor out the door. A large living area in a state of chaos greeted him. Crude, damaged furniture was strewn about the room. The main door had been destroyed during what appeared to have been a break-in. Outside the dwelling, the street was dark, which was strange for a village.

Abandoned village? Did something happen before we got here?

He followed the sounds of sniffing that came from a room adjacent to the one he had woken up in. The floorboards produced a hollow thump with each step, despite his efforts, and the sniffing stopped abruptly. Ben recalled what the entity had done to her. He hesitated after hearing the Archer’s voice.

"Priestess? Is that you?" Jor spoke with a nasal tone that suggested she had been in a state of grief for a while. Ben was concerned for the Archer.

"It’s me," said Ben before stepping into view of the room’s occupants. "Can I come in?"

Jor sniffed, and he heard the creak of her leather armor as she composed herself.

"Come in."

The room was much like the one he had woken up in, albeit slightly smaller. A narrow bed of straw was placed on the opposite wall from the entrance, and a window with wooden shutters occupied the space above the wall. Jor sat on a chair next to the head of the bed, and she turned to face Ben as he entered the room.

Ben stood a respectable distance from Jor and saw Ainsle sleeping peacefully under a salvaged burlap sack-turned blanket. Her missing eye had been bandaged with a blood-soaked, beige-colored material. He made a mental note to buy Ann a new dress when they arrived in the port of Honeydew.

"How is she doing?"

She flinched as he spoke.

"Your Priestess said she’d live."

The tone was uncharacteristically venomous, with a hint of fear. A stark contrast to the composed and mild-mannered Squad Leader he had come to know.

"Care to talk for a bit?"

He asked carefully, unsure as to how she would feel about him after the beast had used his body to inflict harm on her.

"Or what? If I say no, would you force me?" She spat.

The magnitude of the outburst took him aback.

"Look. About what happene-"

"I KNOW! I know it was you coming into your Avatar! You think I’m too dense to feel the weight of your presence?!" She breathed heavily, and her face flushed with anger. "You’re just like him! You’re just like-"

"JOR! Stop. I’m trying to tell you. That it wasn’t me," he interrupted.

She flinched at Ben’s raised voice. Her brow remained in an angry furrow, but she seemed to consider something.

"What do you mean, it wasn’t you?"

"That’s why I came to see you. Well, I would’ve come to check on you and Ainsle regardless…"

He paused, wary of coming off as too forceful. The incident in the forest had probably shaken her more than him.

Show her that you’re the same person.

His inner voice encouraged him.

He opened his palms outward and spoke with as much calm as he could muster.

"I just want to make sure you’re okay. That Ainsle is okay… And that Ann is safe. Whatever I wanted to ask you, can wait."

A moment of silence passed between the pair, and Jor’s face slowly melted from anger to worry. Her lip quivered.

"It really wasn’t you?"

"I swear," he said, and remained as still as possible so as not to startle her. He had the thought of a wounded animal brush his mind.

"Was that… Was that ‘thing’ your Avatar taking control of your body? That’s ridiculous…"

Her words trailed off as her eyes became distant in recollection. Ben relaxed his arms and sat down, cross-legged, on the dirty floor. He felt that by appearing smaller, he would seem less intimidating. After a beat, she continued.

"When I was a girl growing up in the capital, I would always sneak out to the library to avoid a particularly nasty tutor. I read about tales of Champions and terrible creatures of the world. One day I found a book that detailed the life of the Champion named Ogrev the Bald." She turned her head to look at the sleeping form of Ainsle. "He lived about five hundred years ago and was said to have single-handedly assured the victory of a battle against overwhelming odds in the defense of the Empire."

"What did he do?" Asked the young man.

"The Hauluvian Republic, a nation from across the Serpent Sea, invaded the young Empire of Caemire. They saw the fledgling nation of Barbarians as easy takings. They were wrong. Ogrev, a giant among men, was one of the few Champions of that era, and he was a fanatical supporter of the new Emperor, having helped his ascension to the throne."

Ben listened intently. Jor faced him and sniffed before continuing.

She began fiddling with her long, black braid. "Ogrev the Bald was instrumental in repelling a large force of armed invaders that had fought their way to the capital. He was grievously wounded during the battle, and it was said that he fought like a man possessed. He was so ruthless in his slaughter that he didn’t discriminate between friend and foe. Eventually, he succumbed to wounds that even a Champion couldn’t possibly survive. However, at that point, the battle was already won."

She paused to frown and considered Ben for a moment.

"The text goes further to say that it was the Emperor himself who dealt the killing blow to his long-time friend in order to stop his insatiable lust for carnage."

Ben opened his mouth to ask a question, but the Archer quickly cut him off.

"There’s something about Avatars that you should know. An ideal can only be held by one Wielder at any given time. Also… the Avatar wielded by Ogrev was the same one that Ainsle wields today."