The orbs drew closer.

In those terrifyingly slow, painful seconds, Ben boiled on the inside. He felt the heat of hatred towards himself, and the creature sear through his veins. The overwhelming emotion was born from his own powerlessness and his inability to prevent others from having control over him. He thought his mind was finally beginning to go when he was overcome with an uncontrollable urge to punish and exert his will on the predator. His breath slowed, and his face contorted in rage.

"Come on! I haven’t got all day!" he goaded the beast.

The terrible pair of eyes flashed. Suddenly, they were inches away from his own. Ben froze. The remnants of defiance were gone in an instant. His head was struck by something heavy, and Ben impacted the dirt floor on his side. Ribs screamed at the abuse. Something like a paw, twice the size of his head, smashed into the back of his neck and pinned him to the ground. He was paralyzed.

A warm breath caressed his cheek, and he felt the creature sniffing him. Assessing him.

WEAK

PATHETIC

He felt the words vibrate through his bones. It came from everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

"Get… off…" He wheezed.

SUBMIT

Ben tried to look up at the creature, but all he saw was a great maw lined with long, sharp teeth. It closed around him and darkened his vision. The teeth found purchase on his skull, and in slow, agonizing moments, it began to close. The pain was indescribable. He saw red and felt the pressure build in his temples. The creature didn’t relent. His skull cracked, and he let out a blood-curdling scream.

His eyes burst into bloody fountains. The agony penetrated his very existence. Time stopped having meaning until, after what felt like an eternity, he felt a radiance pour over his tormented form.

He fought with every last fiber to drag himself towards the warmth. Slowly, it drew closer. The light began to feel tangible. His wounds began to heal, and he felt whole again.

He startled awake. Sweat dripped down his brow. His breath quickened, and he scrambled to look for the beast.

A dream?

Ben sat and tried to recall the events of the strange dream. The pain felt so real. He touched his neck and massaged his temples, where the fangs had pierced his skull. He looked out at the sky and found that not much time had passed since he dozed off. It was approaching late afternoon, and a while later, Ann appeared. She was walking over with what appeared to be a heavy, dirt-stained wooden crate. She stepped inside and dumped the cargo on the floor before collapsing on the pine-covered dirt in front of Ben.

Her hands and fingernails were black from digging in the wet soil. Her hair was even messier than before, and her tired eyes smiled at the low ceiling of the cave.

She turned her head to glance at Ben and grinned.

"Somebody was having a pleasant nap." She winked. "I came back to tell you I found the cache and noticed you, my darling, were fast-asleep with a blissful smile on your face. You wouldn’t have happened to have dreamt about little old me, would you?"

His face went numb at the mention of the dream. The appreciation of the Healer’s beauty and her tireless efforts vanished. He shook his head and decided to try to focus on the present. If she noticed Ben’s slight tick, she didn’t outwardly display it.

"We should be safe here for a spell." She rolled to her side to face him and said, after a few breaths. "The blight woods aren’t safe after dark; well, we’re not exactly safe here either, but I’d rather we take our chances against things that can die." She sighed.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Ben felt a chill race up his spine at those words. He shook his head once more to try to expel the unwanted memories of the beast.

"What happened back at the camp? Who was that man with the bone sword?" Ben let out.

"I’m afraid I don’t know, my heart. It's ironic, but Fate has a way of meddling at times of great convergence."

She touched the copper pendant that rested between her breasts and muttered what sounded like a brief, inaudible prayer.

"As for the man we met before our flight, that was Eric Vasylius, great grand-nephew of the Emperor of Caemire. He serves on the Council of Blades, a governing body of the Empire that oversees the conquest and subjugation of foreign entities. He made a name for himself during the Great Invasion as a ruthless general and a capable fighter."

Ann noticed the waterskin Ben had left for her. She took a sip and nodded appreciatively before continuing.

"Given his lineage as well as his titles and accomplishments, he is probably one of the most politically dangerous men on this side of the glades. He also wields an Artifact, the ‘Finger of Naevehulle’. You, no doubt, saw the destruction it was capable of."

Ben’s eyes went distant at the mention of the name. Ann, not seeming to notice the change, continued once more.

"It’s known that he possesses an Avatar, but the details of its strength and ability are unknown. Rumors are too inaccurate…"

Ann’s words grew distant and blended into the background. A scene of that monster having his way with Jor, played out in his mind, fuelling his anger towards his own powerlessness.

Ann propped herself up on her elbows as she watched Ben's demeanor shift with concern.

"If you’re worried about him coming after you, I-"

"No. It’s just… I don’t know. The people I’ve met seem to be so… unnaturally strong." He tried to formulate his thoughts into words after interrupting the healer. "I told you I don’t remember much of anything, but still… This all feels wrong, different. If you hadn’t stepped in at that moment, I would’ve been dead."

Ben’s face fell into his open palms. Dejected. He felt insignificant and weak next to Ann, who had earlier displayed power he wouldn’t have thought she was capable of.

Pathetic. Weak.

She remained silent. Blue eyes considered him.

"Why are you even wasting your time with me? I’m not interested in this charade of being your pretend messiah or whatever-the-fuck your lunatic cult thinks I am. I never asked for any of this! Is this some kind of game to you?"

He lifted his head out of his palms and looked at her with harsh eyes. The outburst was fueled by the emotions and ordeals of the past few days. An overfilled dam waiting to burst. He felt a hint of shame for lashing out at the woman, but he remained resolute.

"I can’t do this anymore. Leave me! I don’t want your help or your pity!"

Heat washed over his body, and he felt a hot, rancid breath brush the back of his neck. Perhaps it was the thought of Eric, who so callously manipulated Jor or the indifference he exhibited when he disregarded the lives of the soldiers defending the camp. Or maybe it was the fact that, up to this point, he hadn’t been able to do anything to help himself. He was weak and had to rely on the help of others to save him. The words of the beast echoed in his chest.

Ann lifted herself up and sat on her knees, legs folded under her. Tears began to roll down her face. Gaze downward. Slowly, she placed her palms on top of each other on her lap. Her lips were impassive. Silence occupied the moment before she spoke in a soft voice.

"It’s taking hold of you, becoming part of you now." She paused to hold in a sob. "You must tame it. You mustn’t le-"

"Enough of this cryptic bullshit! Tell me what’s really going on, or fuck-off back to where you came from!"

Ben interrupted the woman once more. She trembled at the outburst, barely managing to maintain composure. She sniffed and cleared her throat, not meeting his eyes.

"There is an entity inside of you. Ancient and powerful. It's trying to consume you, but you mustn't let it." She paused and sniffled. "Tame it and take its power for yourself."

"Why do you even care? You're more than capable of taking care of yourself." Ben drew a deep breath in frustration. "Even that... monster with the white sword fears you," Ben said as he folded his arms.

"The Councilor's deference was largely due to his lack of willingness to face the consequences of slaying one of my Order. Not because of fear." She forced a tight smile. "There are powerful people in this world, and… I’m not one of them."

"I find that hard to believe. I saw... no, I couldn't see you move back there," he said as he met her eyes.

"What you saw at the camp was my Avatar. I’ve only ever used it twice, once when I was a young acolyte and the other- today."

Ben's swirling emotions began to abate, and he felt a touch of shame at his treatment of the Priestess. She wiped the tears from her eyes and swallowed.

"Avatars are gifts few mortals have on Aetheria. It’s a…personal thing. And it’s said to only be obtained through great adversity. Most chosen worthy go their entire existences without ever revealing its true nature to another."

Ann paused for a heartbeat and said:

"I trade years of my life for a moment of impossible power-"

"-Mine is the Avatar of Sacrifice."