The sound of dead leaves fluttering along the dirty floor of the abandoned house grated on Ben’s ears. An orange ray of a lazy sun poured through an unshuttered window, illuminating the face of the Priestess who sat on her knees, ankles tucked under her legs, eyes closed.

The awkward exchange between Ann and Ainsle during breakfast saw the death of light-hearted conversation. Each of the party’s members went their way after the meal. The Berserker went to her room to rest, and Jor left the group to scout, or patrol, as Ainsle had remarked the area.

Ann had suggested that Ben join her in meditative training to attempt to commune with the Avatar that resided in his soul. The pair had been at it for a few frustrating hours before Ben finally gave up.

"Still nothing."

He sighed, as he stretched his arms and back from his cross-legged position in front of the Priestess.

"Be patient, my heart. And calm, it will come in time," she said, mirroring the sentiment.

"I was anything but calm those times it communicated with me."

Ann opened her eyes and regarded him.

"Maybe we’re going about this the wrong way. Perhaps we should try to replicate the circumstances that created the link." Her lips twitched.

"You’re horrible."

Ben groaned, and the Priestess let out a chuckle before closing her eyes once more. The sound was pleasant and warm, and Ben realized that he hadn’t heard the sound in a while. He recalled her, somewhat frigid, interactions with their traveling companions during their time spent together. He also considered the contrasting, near obsessive, manner in which she regarded him and felt that it had reached the point where it would need to be addressed.

"Hey, Ann. I’ve been meaning to ask you something. Somethings," he corrected and emphasized the plural.

"Hmm?"

"About Jor and Ainsle. You don’t seem to get along with them very well. You’re always quiet when they’re around, and you seem to regard them… coldly?" He tried. "Is everything alright?"

The Priestess’s brow raised, and she appeared thoughtful. She waited for a beat to respond.

"To be completely honest, I tolerate them, as it is your wish that I do so. I believe they only have their interests in mind and, if it came to it, both of them would toss you to the wolves to save their skins."

Ben was taken aback at the candid reply.

"Do you really believe that? I’m trying to see your point of view, but I can’t. Jor was the one who ordered my life saved and saw to it that I was given aid. Besides that, back in the forest-"

She opened her eyes and stared at Ben intently.

"They didn’t do us any favors. The Squad Leader knew that she and Ainsle couldn’t traverse the Ancient woods alone. They needed a guide. A Ranger or a Caster that could use Aura magic... Or a Priestess."

The young man’s eyes went wide at what she had implied.

"What do you mean, they couldn’t move through the forest without you?" he asked, brows furrowed questioningly.

"My heart, there is a reason why there are no settlements that close to a tear. The same reason that the Empire’s military sends large, well-armed convoys to outposts there twice a year." A pause. "Because you’d have to be insane or have a death wish, or both if you thought that the creatures that dwell in that wicked forest would allow safe passage."

Ben shook his head in uncertainty, his eyes darted around the room. He grappled with the implication that he and Ann had been used by their companions. Ann seemed to notice his internal conflict as she raised an open hand to forestall any questions. She brushed at the dress on her lap before continuing.

"Did you not think it odd that we scrambled through the blight woods for hours unmolested? As you know, my strength lies in Aura magic. But the school in which I specialize has very specific applications, and I am what many would consider to be a Master in the field. However, due to my lack of proficiency in the more…mundane schools, such as Healing, Battle, and Protection, it takes more for me to cast and maintain Auras from said disciplines."

"Like the, uh, ‘wellness’ Aura you told me about?"

"Yes, my sweet. It’s an adept-level Aura called Gialessi’s Reprieve, in the school of Healing and Rejuvenation." She shook her head lightly. "We digress. I was able to maintain a Protection Aura for so long because it only encompassed two of us. That number, and cost, doubled when we went into the Ancient woods."

At Ann’s mention of being encompassed by her Aura, Ben thought back to the Aura he felt when the bandits had shown up at the camp. The severe, physical extent to which they were affected compared to the light chill he had felt, gave him the impression that she truly was a Master and a specialist. Not that he knew anything about magic, but he was convinced.

"Did Jor know of these limitations?" He asked.

"Of course. Healing and Protection are complementary schools, and one does not gain proficiency in one without competency in the other, their concepts overlap. These are the fundamentals of tactics and squad-building that are taught at the Military Academy of Caemire."

"So, you’re suggesting…" The young man trailed off.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"I’m not suggesting anything, my darling. I’m stating it as plainly as possible. The Squad Leader was desperate, and she used whatever means were at her disposal to ensure her survival."

The pair remained silent for a while after the revelation. Ben felt the familiar venomous thoughts of betrayal and dishonesty corrode his opinion of the two women, whom he considered to be companions or perhaps even friends. After grappling with his thoughts, he began to feel detached, and a feeling of cold loneliness stewed in the pit of his stomach. A thought came to him, and he asked the Priestess.

"Why didn’t you just refuse to travel with them?"

Ann opened her blue eyes and tilted her head at the question.

"I thought it was what you wanted?"

Ben frowned as the rhetorical statement disturbed him deeply.

"Well, I did, but… I had no idea that it would cost you so much. You don’t have to do this for me, you know?"

"I have sworn myself to you in both body and soul." She paused. "That is not an oath taken lightly by one of my Order, my heart."

Ben hesitated. He was afraid of the conversation that would follow. The young man was conflicted as he tried to formulate his words so as not to cause any more strain between them, yet to be as clear and direct as possible.

"Listen. Ann. I’m uncomfortable about… this." He gestured to the space between them. "I mean, you’ve done so much, and don’t get me wrong, I think you’re amazing and smart and-"

The Priestess’ interrupted in a voice tinged with a hint of panic.

"Is it my age? I may be thirty-two summers old, but I-" She paused. "-or am I coming on too forcefully?"

Ben held his hands up to calm the woman.

"No, no. It’s just… Look, I get it; you think I’m some savior from a prophecy. I don’t doubt your beliefs, truly, but I can’t help but feel your… loyalty is misplaced. We just met, what, four days ago? But this blind trust and affection towards me feel undeserved. And I... I respect you too much to take advantage of you like this."

Ann seemed distraught and tilted her head in confusion, the promise of tears began to bloom in her eyes.

"What? I don’t understand," she said imploringly.

"I don’t know. I don’t know how I’d handle it if you sacrificed yourself for me. What if it turns out I’m not the one? They said that there were many corpses of Old-Worlders on the beach where they found me. What if… What if your Harbinger is dead?"

Ben’s question appeared to be the final blow that cracked Ann’s frail composure. The Priestess clutched the pendant in her hands and began sobbing quietly. Her body shook with short and erratic breaths. Tears flowed in a torrent from her tightly closed eyes.

Witnessing the pain he had inflicted on the Priestess caused his chest to ache as if his lungs were being crushed.

"Annie…" He called out to her. "I don’t want to feel like a pretender. I mean, I don’t even know who I am, yet you believe you do. Does that make sense? In the short time that I’ve known you, I’ve come to respect and admire so much about you. You’re kind, smart, and…many other things. You’re firm, cold, and intimidating when you need to be."

Ann’s sobbing seemed to intensify at being addressed by the pet name that she had insisted he call her.

Ben had to restrain himself from listing all her positive qualities, as he was afraid that he might let slip that he thought she was gorgeous and witty, among others. That would not help quell her obsession and her eagerness to throw her life away for his.

Man, you’re really bad at this…

"I don’t want to be the chosen one from your prophecy. If I am, then so be it. I just… I just want to figure this all out and not have to deal with such high expectations while I do."

"Please, my heart. Don’t leave me. I’ll be better. I’ll do anything-" Ann wailed between sobs.

"What? No-"

Ben was startled by the plea. And stumbled to find the words to avoid any further misunderstanding.

"Can we start over? From the beginning."

Two heartbeats passed, and Ann, still sobbing uncontrollably, opened her soft, blue eyes. Ben waited patiently for her to regain a semblance of composure.

"I’m Ben. Just Ben. And you’re… amazing. Nice to meet you."

Ann’s sobbing slowly abated and turned into a light chuckle. Snot and tears ran freely. Her twin braids rolled down from her shoulders as she nodded.

"I’m amazing. Nice to meet you too."

The pair had sat in semi-comfortable silence in each other’s company until the pale glow of a full moon bathed the room in its eerie light. Ann eventually went to attend to ‘a lady’s business’, and the young man was left alone with his thoughts.

Ben regretted how he had handled the confrontation between himself and Ann. He cursed himself for not having thought it through enough before approaching her with his concerns. After mulling over the events of the day, he considered that the thought of the women using her for their self-interests might have been the catalyst for the spontaneous confrontation. If she wasn’t so… obsessed with him, she might’ve made a more reasonable decision regarding her safety.

I just wanted her to value her safety more…

Ben felt like punching himself for his lack of tact.

He doubted that she would change her beliefs; as far as he knew, she was the epitome of her Avatar, Sacrifice. Ben resolved to make it up to Ann with his actions, by being someone worth that degree of dedication and affection. He only hoped she would regard him for himself and not as a prophesized figure.

He decided that he should try to keep a level head and discover the truth of it from Jor, herself. Ben got up from the floor, stretched a satisfying click out of his back, and went to see the Archer. Before standing in front of the doorless portal of Jor and Ainsle’s room, he knocked on the wall and called out.

"Jor, are you there?"

"Come." He heard Ainsle’s husky voice.

Ben stepped in front of the doorway and saw that the Berserker was the only occupant of the room. She sat on the bed, dressed in her full suit of armor. Her great-mace lay across her lap, and she was applying a coating of unidentifiable wax to the bloom of angular steel that was its head.

"I always say, treat your weapon like you would your woman, otherwise, she might just fuck you over when you need her the most."

She paused and gestured for him to sit. Armed as she was, the bandage over her right eye and the angry scar that ran down her left cheek, gave the old woman a dangerous appearance. Ben complied wordlessly and sat on the chair she had used during the training session that morning. She continued her maintenance methodically and with great care. Her usual grin was absent.

"When I was a girl, I was pretty stubborn, you see? Hot-headed. Always had a problem with authority. I’m not good at apologizing or admitting when I’m wrong." Another pause. "Ah, fuck it. Listen up. I’m blind, not bloody deaf. The answer is yes."

Ben didn’t know how to react to the admission. He remained silent.

"Yeah, the princess knew Miss Holy-tits would probably burn out before we made it. It’s not my place to ask. I just follow. I’m a grunt, through and through. But… not anymore." The Berserker frowned. "Willy was the golden heart to my black one. Good to people, too good as we got older, you know? Like he was trying to make up for all the bad shit we did in the past. He was paying for both of our sins."

"Ainsle, I-" Ben tried to interject.

"Shut up and listen." The old woman sighed. "I’m gonna pay my own way from now on."

The Berserker stopped oiling the ridiculous weapon and pocketed the cube of wax in a small pouch on her belt. She gently placed the mace head on the floor, which creaked and bowed in protest at the weight. She stood, using the shaft of the weapon to help her to her feet.

"So, you know that place in your head? Where the monster inside of you lives?"

Ben nodded. He assumed she was referring to the cave in the clearing from his dreams.

"Ol’ Ain is gonna share a pretty juicy secret with you about that place."

Her infectious grin returned, and Ben became apprehensive once more.

"Tell me, Benny-boy. Do you really want to learn how to dance?"