An hour of work later, they had buried all the bodies they found around town, marking the spot with a big rock on top of the mound of dirt that was left. Both women kept silent for a minute or two, looking down while the fire burned in the background. This wasn’t new to either of them. Once you become a mercenary, you start seeing death as an old acquaintance. One that doesn’t talk, and never leaves.

Quite the crummy acquaintance, really.

“I wonder how all of them died.” Gabrielle mumbled, finally breaking the silence.

“Those wretches got to them, clearly. Nothing else kills you and leaves you dry like that.” Lucrece sighed, turning around to return to the bonfire.

“But we faced the wretches before, they weren’t so tough.”.

“They would have torn you to pieces if I hadn’t come there, and they are without number: once they start appearing, they don’t stop.” Lucrece sat by the fire. “I reckon it won't take long until they find us again so we better eat while we can.”

Gabrielle narrowed her eyes at this woman for a moment, before saying:

“You know a lot. How long have you been in the Fog?”

“Long enough to know we can’t waste time.” The Lancer shrugged, setting some of their meat to cook, and finally lighting her pipe. “It’s less that I’ve been here for long, and more that I’ve been here a few times already. So, follow me and we should be out in a day or so.”

Now this was good news. The redheaded swordswoman nodded and sat beside her companion, pulling the bottle of mead to give it a nice swig, before the dots finally connected in her mind.

“So you’re a thief after all!” Said the Witch.

Lucrece coughed loudly, some smoke escaping through her nose as she turned to face her companion with indignation.

“Excusez-moi, bitch?” All that good will the Lancer seemed to have for her new companion disappeared in an instant.

“What.” Gabrielle blinked slowly.

“I am no thief.”

“Do you prefer the term looter?”

“Do I pref—ta gueule!” Lucrece crossed her arms.

“But you knew exactly which houses to steal from and which ones to ignore, as if you had been here before.”

“I have common sense you oaf!”

“And you have been quietly saving up every coin you’ve found in our way.”

Lucrece froze. This girl had noticed!? Not so slow in the outtake, it seems. Trapped, she tried to think of a good excuse, quickly.

“W-Well. I thought you didn’t want it, and–”

“Also the only people who venture into the Fog are thieves, criminals and Royal Companies. And you are not part of a Royal Company, you are not wearing symbols or sacred seals on you.”

“I-I could be, you don’t know…”

“Are you?”

“...No.”

There was a moment of silence between them, before Gabi spoke once again.

“Are you mad?”

“Wh–Yes! Yes, I am!” Lucrece frowned even harder. “You just called me a thief! After I went through all the trouble to save you and such!”

“But you admitted you are a thief, just now.”

“I said I ain’t a part of a Royal Company, I didn’t say I was a thief!” The Lancer had to use all her willpower to not pout. “You’re just being very rude right now, you know!?”

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?!”

“I did not know it was rude to establish facts.”

Lucrece stared for a long time, trying to determine if the woman in front of her was being some kind of arsehole right now, but to her surprise, she found that Gabrielle was completely earnest. The Lancer wondered what kind of education this girl got, but considering her own experiences, she could guess she didn’t get much of an education at all. Such is the kind of world they lived in, such is the situation in Jericho.

“Look, ugh. You can’t just call people thieves. It makes people look and feel bad.” The Lancer explained, as patiently as she could. “If you discover something like that, keep it to yourself.”

“Oh. Alright.” Gabi nodded softly. “Esperanza used to tell me to be honest all the time, though.”

“Who the Hells is– No. Wait. Focus.” Lucrece told mostly to herself. “You can be honest and not say everything that comes to your mind.”

“That’s lying by omission.”

“What are you, a constabulary?” The blonde woman shook her head. “You don’t owe anyone complete honesty.”

“That’s the way of the Saints, though?” Gabrielle tilted her head.

“Oh mes étoiles…” Lucrece rubbed her face slowly. Of course this girl was also religious. She should have gotten that from the requiem singing! “Listen, I’m trying to help you here. If you are too honest you can hurt people’s feelings, or worse, make them angry and get in trouble.”

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“Esperanza usually explains things to people…” The redhead frowned, suddenly feeling a tinge of guilt in her heart. Memories came to attack her.

There was a sudden growl coming from the distance. Groans of pain, steps in the mist. Both women stopped talking and immediately stood up, each reaching for their own weapon. Banging sounds echoed, as several hands punched and clawed at the closed town gates, which soon caught fire from the burning claws. Lucrece and Gabrielle looked at each other, then turned to the other town exit.

It wasn’t long before they heard smashing and breaking from there, too. An attack from both sides!

Gabi frowned. She felt better, she could probably try to fight again, but she wasn’t fully recovered just yet and she knew it. Things wouldn’t last very long… The lanky woman wasn’t in a much better condition after carrying her and digging a mass grave.

The redhead’s hand slowly slid back to her left gauntlet. Maybe… maybe she could try again. It would be painful, extremely painful, but this may be their one chance.

Lucrece, completely ignorant of these thoughts, suddenly took her hand and started running.

“We’re leaving now!” She decided, worried but determined. “We get the Hells out of here and go straight, you hear me?! Straight and don’t deviate for an instant! That’s the only way to exit this fog!”

“Maybe we should jump over the wall.” Gabrielle suggested.

“What, jump off and pray to the Saints we don’t break our legs!?” The taller woman growled. “There has to be other way!”

“Name one.” The swordswoman looked at her dead in the eye.

… After a moment of hesitation, both of them ran straight for the walls, just as the gates broke down and creatures began to run into the town with their loud roaring. They were practically trampling each other as they tried to find the two.

“What the Hells!? They weren’t this violent before!” Lucrece kicked down the door of one of the towers around the town to pull Gabrielle through it, quickly running up the stairs until reaching the top; and there: “...Saints above…”

The town was completely surrounded by shadows of many sizes. There were many a burning wretch among them, yes, but there were also other strange beasts: dog faced, squalid figures wielding serrated blades; panting, groaning, gigantic lumps of flesh and skin with short legs and many mouths; muscular humanoids with huge machetes whose faces were eternally concealed by shadow, only showing wide, toothy grins and burning red eyes; shambling masses of chains, rattling with their every move…

Many manifestations of sin, of fear, of regret, just gathered around the town once they had caught the scent of fresh blood.

“I thought you said the pyre would keep them away.” Gabrielle commented, staring at this sea of monstrosities.

“It usually does!” Lucrece was looking around at high speed. “Something is wrong here, there shouldn’t be this many wretches around here!”

Gabrielle, meanwhile, was focusing on the one figure riding a horse in this whole mess. The burnt shadow of Esperanza de Aragón was still there, waiting, staring from afar, as if knowing she didn’t even need to chase or fight herself. She just needed to wait.

The redheaded swordswoman gulped, hands trembling for a moment as she looked back at Lucrece.

“Run!” Screamed a voice in her head.

“Every girl for herself!” Screamed another.

But then, the voice of a young, kind kid simply stated.

“Do the noble thing.”

Like the Knights of Red, thought Gabi. She nodded to herself, taking Lucrece’s hand firmly on her own. The taller woman looked at her, doe eyed.

“Hop on my back.” Said the redhead.

“W-What?!” The blonde looked at her, then back down, then back at her. “You can’t be serious!”

“Trust me.”

Lucrece shook her head again. Hells no, she did not trust her, she barely knew her! And the look of deranged determination in those unblinking eyes only made the Lancer doubt her even more. She knew Gabrielle wasn’t exactly brilliant, but this was not stupidity: this was madness.

“There has to be another way out!” Lucrece bargained “If you just give me a min—”

“No.”

The Witch knew there was no time to hesitate, so she decided to simply take the reins of the situation. Making a show of strength that Lucrece simply did not expect, Gabrielle picked her right up and, holding her in her arms, she jumped off the tower. The Lancer had to cover her mouth to not scream, her one eye opening widely as they descended at full speed towards the ground.

And then they landed, crushing one of the shambling creatures into a splatter of black ichor. The blonde winced, hearing not only how the creature exploded, but also how Gabi’s bones literally burst to pieces in her legs! Trembling, feeling the pain rush through her whole body, the redhead opened her eyes widely and let out a heart wrenching battle cry, suddenly tossing Lucrece high into the air before falling.

She didn’t even realize what was happening as she flew through the skies for a second, and instinct kicked in to correct her posture and land on the other side of the horde. Lucrece’s heart was racing, her eye darting back to the monsters that right now were ignoring her, piling on the red headed warrior.

“Don’t you dare sacrifice yourself for me, don’t you dare!” Lucrece was ready to go right back in, but then she saw several of those figures be sent flying. “Putain…!”

“GO!” Gabrielle screamed her lungs out, suddenly standing once again, swinging her sword from side to side.

Terrified, the Lancer couldn’t find it in herself to refuse. She turned right around and ran, clinging to her halberd as she closed her eye and felt the frustration building up in her stomach.

“Putain! Putain! Putain!”

She then felt something stir within her… and soon after, a figure jumped in her way from the forest. A figure that made her freeze in her tracks.

He was much taller than her, much wider and muscular, his black hair filthy with sweat and blood. She could smell the air of violence from afar, and it made her retch. Dressed completely with pelts, he was a monster of a man. On one of his huge, calloused hands, he held his dull battle axe; on the other, he held a branding iron, still red hot…

The man licked his own lips slowly while staring at Lucrece, panting so heavily the hot air was visible as it pushed between his lips.

The Lancer trembled, but forced herself steady, biting down her lips. Saints damn it all, she had forgotten! Don’t remember things in the Fog! That’s rule number one! Don’t think, just act!

Now she had to deal with the consequences. Now she felt small, weak in the face of this monster…

“I’m not scared of you…!” She barked, holding her halberd to the man’s throat.

He laughed at her. He had always done so.

Not waiting for him to move, Lucrece jumped high into the air once again, spinning rapidly to try and land a skewering hit straight through his head. But she was deflected with such strength that she was sent back a few meters, stumbling back to try and keep her footing. He laughed again, louder, his pronounced belly bouncing with each chuckle, before suddenly shifting and slamming his axe down, bulging muscles rippling as the Lancer had to move quickly so as to not get crushed.

With speed unbefitting such a large body, he stabbed onwards with the red hot branding iron, which Lucrece barely could deflect as her breath kept getting louder, harder. Fear and disgust were quickly conquered by rage and frustration. She grasped her halberd much more tighter, clenching her teeth and unleashing a flurry of stabs, all aimed at the man’s chest.

He was dodging and deflecting without even breaking a sweat, to the point that in the last stab, he simply let go of his branding iron, grabbed the polearm by the head, and squeezed… some black ichor falling from the wound on his hand. The Lancer snarled, trying to pull her weapon free, but the man held her in place with no problem.

“Not a bad effort, Princess…” The man mocked her, suddenly yanking the polearm away from Lucrece’s hands. “But not good enough.”

He simply tossed the weapon aside and kicked Lucrece to the floor, keeping one huge foot on top of her chest. She coughed, trying to shake that boot off herself as it crushed down.

He licked his lips again, his grin widening as his hand reached to gently feel Lucrece’s hair. She jerked away, her stomach turning… but then, something shook the entire forest. A violent tremor, the echo of lightning striking the Earth. That beast of a man looked up, blinking in confusion, as a body suddenly jumped from the forest around them, screaming like a possessed madwoman.

Gabrielle, now with several pieces of her armour missing, wounds and burn marks on her naked chest, had that old rusty sword high and shining with the heat of the Sun, destroying her throat as she landed on top of the man. Sparks of electricity flew from her every nerve, as a mark on her left arm burned blue.

Lucrece’s eye was staring, wide with terror and surprise, while her body was completely paralyzed. The hope of survival couldn’t push away the abject horror from her mind. Magic was, after all, something that should be reserved for fairy tales and old, dusty books!

When her sword fell on his head, the world shook once again. Lightning fell down, light flashed so bright that Lucrece was forced to close her eye… and when she opened it, the body of the man was left without a head. A small crater on the ground and the splatter of black ichor was all that was left of it.

She stared as the redheaded witch stood back up, panting, trembling and jolting, her face still contorted by rage. Gone was the inexpressive, if a bit silly girl from before, now all that was left was a wrathful demon.

A demon who fell down, unconscious, soon after.

The Lancer stood up, slowly approaching her. Dots were connecting on her head now.

A redheaded witch who commands the lightning. A raging force of nature who knows not of emotion.

She had heard of this girl before. Many in the mercenary business had.

The mad dog of the Saint, Gabrielle the Heartless.