The rest of the afternoon passed in silence. The supply cache Ann had found contained various goods one would expect from an emergency stash. There were flint stones and tinder wrapped in soft leather, two cured hides of animals that Ben could only guess at, a rusty knife, an equally rusty axe with a broken wooden handle, and some kind of cord or rope wound neatly in a figure-eight. What the box did not have, however, was anything to eat. Fortunately, Ann had dug up an old cast iron pot somewhere in the camp.

Ben felt sick with shame and regret at his treatment of the woman. He was confused as to why he lashed out at her. His rational mind told him that she had done a great deal for him at no small cost to herself. But his emotions overwhelmed him. He had the thought that he was losing himself to something and that he may not be himself for much longer. He followed that train of thought, and found that his outburst felt oddly out of character for him. Not that he knew what his character was exactly, but he was sure that he shouldn’t treat other people, especially allies, with such disregard.

After Ann had told him of Avatars and revealed the very nature of her own, she remained silent, her body shuddering while holding back sobs. Ben inferred that by sharing her secret with him, she showed him trust deeper than he had any right to have.

Dammit.

He couldn’t look her in the eye after that. Instead of resting, she got to work on opening the wooden chest. Ben tried to help her, but she refused politely, almost formally, the way one would address a stranger. He worried that he had slit the throat of any bond or friendship the pair might’ve had; even though he had only known her for two days, he found her to be quite endearing, if a bit obsessive and clingy.

Yeah. You screwed that one up.

His self-castigation continued.

She had left Ben about an hour prior to do what she said was a ‘lady’s business.’ She took the pot and knife with her. He began to worry about her safety. Ben pulled himself up out of his wallowing and decided to go look for her. He resolved to apologize, get on his knees, and ask for forgiveness.

He walked in the direction Ann had gone, away from the direction of the blighted woods. The trees here were a thick, deep green, and the ground was covered in golden pine needles. The sky had turned a warm, fiery orange, promising that nightfall would come soon. Ben arrived at the edge of the clearing and saw an overgrown trail that he followed. He called out to her, uncertain whether his company was welcome.

"Ann? Where are you?" He paused and steeled himself. "Look. I’m sorry about earlier. I… I don’t know what came over me."

Ben shouted as he continued on the path.

"You’ve done so much for me. You’re amazing. I felt… inadequate, and I took it out on you. You didn’t deserve that."

He stopped, and his gaze fell to his dirty shoes.

"I’m sorry."

Ben almost expected Ann to appear from behind a bush and run into his arms. But all he heard was the sound of forest denizens and the rustling of leaves. He blushed at the silliness he felt. This wasn’t some fictional world. This was a place where people ate, shat, and had their entrails strewn about for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He was drawn out of his self-deprecation by the distant echo of his name being called. It was Ann. His spirits suddenly lifted, and he ran back up the path towards the source of the voice. Ann sounded more and more panicked as she called out to him.

"Ben! Be- Gods." She exhaled forcefully.

Taking deep breaths, she closed her eyes tightly, and she dropped to her knees at the sight of the young man. She gripped her pendant with both hands and offered a prayer to whatever god she thought was listening. Ben stood, eyes wide, unsure of what to do. He expected her reaction to seeing him to be colder and more distant than before and not the intense relief of a mother finding her lost child. He was prepared to grovel for her forgiveness, but he was taken aback by the display. Ben didn’t have a plan for this scenario.

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"Ann, listen, I’m…"

Ben began as the woman stood, dusting pine needles from her dress. Her cheeks were flushed, and her hair was in the same state of disorder.

"I wanted to- I went looking for you, and-"

SMACK.

White.

His vision swam. When the short woman came into focus again, she had a dangerous look in her eyes. Ben touched his cheek and watched as the usually cheerful Healer wound up for another devastating attack. He shut his eyes tightly and waited for the finishing blow. It never came. As he opened his eyes, he saw the woman standing with her feet spread in a rough fighting stance, her arm lowered with a formidable open palm. She breathed heavily. Barely containing her fury.

Woah, she really put her back into that one…

"If you hate me, FINE! If you want me to leave, I’ll leave once we’ve made it to the nearest town! But don’t you DARE! Dare, irresponsibly endanger your life! What were you thinking?!"

"Uh, I-"

"You weren’t bloody thinking, that’s what! I-" She sobbed, her fury melted into grief. "I looked for you, and you weren’t there. Where did you-? Why?"

She collapsed, mumbling incoherently. Ben knelt beside her and hugged her tightly. She wailed into his boney chest.

"Please… I can’t lose you. My whole life, I…" she said between sobs.

He spoke softly.

"I’ve made a mistake. I’m sorry, Ann. I’m sorry for everything."

The pair remained seated on the forest floor, in each other’s embrace, until the sky lazily turned a deep purple. Ann pushed herself off Ben and wiped her red, puffy eyes. Sniffing, she looked at him as he stood. They exchanged nods, and a comfortable and knowing silence occupied their walk back to camp.

They arrived at the cave, and Ben found what Ann had been busy with during her outing earlier. The old pot had been cleaned and was filled with water. A substantial assortment of mushrooms and unidentifiable fruits or vegetables had been washed and placed in a pile on one of the furs. There was also a pile of wood that seemed to have been dropped in a hurry.

Ann, with a look of embarrassment on her face, spoke in a voice hoarse from her screaming earlier.

"I thought you had gone to attend to your natural needs. I called out to you and, when you didn’t reply…"

"Yeah. Sorry," he said sheepishly.

She considered him in the twilight light.

"Why were you headed back into the blight woods?"

Ben’s eyes widened.

"I thought the blight woods was that way." He pointed in the opposite direction.

Ann sighed and tiredly placed her hands on her hips.

"Anyways. We need to start a fire and eat. That’s a priority for now."

Ben collected the discarded firewood while Ann cleared a small area in the dirt. The pair worked silently, exhausted from the events of the past two days. Ben was surprised that either of them managed to stand upright. He offered the flint to Ann while he laid out the tinder. He felt as if there was a gap in his knowledge when it came to bushcraft. He understood vaguely what to do, just not how to do it.

The woman wordlessly accepted the flint and, after a few attempts, managed to ignite the tinder and get the fire going. When the flames died down to an acceptable level, she put the pot of water on the red-hot coals.

"So, about earlier this afternoon… Ann, I didn’t mean what I said."

Ben said, breaking the silence. Ann remained silent and rubbed her eyes with her dirty palms. He continued.

"There’s a lot going on and…" He thought about the beast in his dream. "…and I handled it badly. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you."

The woman, sitting with her knees to her chest, arms wrapped around her shins, placed her head on her knees and faced the young man. Her hoarse, tired voice let out a hum.

"I spent the latter half of my life imagining what it would be like to receive the Harbinger. It became an obsession." She paused to chuckle. "When I was chosen to be a Keeper, everything and everyone else seemed less important than my duty to the faith."

She closed her eyes.

"I dreamt about you, you know? Every night for years. The dreams were all different, but their endings were always the same. Maybe that’s why I thought I knew you." She smiled lightly. "I romanticized our first meeting. But those were the childish desires of a girl whose knowledge of the world came from dusty romantic novels. Back at the temple, visiting pilgrims would often leave behind various bits and pieces, and I found my first book at the age of sixteen."

"How did they end? The dreams," Ben asked unsteadily.

She opened her beautiful blue eyes and met his gaze.

"You killed me."