Dorothea had it all mapped out. She and Gren had done so together, actually. The second night she’d been in Ghuria, three days ago now, they had burned the midnight oil to crunch the numbers.

There were about 1,500 miles of land to heal. After the initial hundred-mile test they had conducted, Dorothea had a full grasp of her limits in this scenario.

It took 40 seconds of her life to heal one foot of desiccated land, accounting for the depth of damage and the necessity of bringing new growth to provide enough food for Ghuria’s struggling population. Calculating the feet per mile and the number of feet to heal and then incorporating how many seconds were in a year… To complete the task, she’d lose ten years of her life. Assuming things went off without a hitch.

It took them a while to figure out, as neither of them were very good at math. Gren admitted somewhat shyly to her that his education had stopped at age thirteen. Still, they successfully charted the routes they would take through Ghuria to accomplish this behemoth of a task.

Today also marked the third morning of her training with Gren in the courtyard of the barracks. Her idea for battlefield application was going well enough, but today he seemed to have other plans. A different but not unwelcome face awaited them at their grounds.

“Hey,” Johanna greeted after giving a wide yawn. “It is I, your guest instructor for the day.”

Gren nodded when Dorothea looked at him questioningly. “She volunteered.”

“Consider this my thanks.” She withdrew a vial of pale liquid from her dress pocket and dropped it into Dorothea’s hand. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen Pearlie smile like this.”

Dorothea blushed, pleased to have been helpful. “I didn’t do anything…”

“If you’re going this far, there’s no need to be modest. I certainly wouldn’t be.”

“But I…” Dorothea shook her head and smiled. “Thank you.” Rather than apologizing for her past failures, she needed to appreciate that Johanna was accepting her.

Johanna smiled back. “Now. The odds of you being useful in a standard fight are very, very, very, veeery low. That said, we want to give you the capability to defend yourself and escape in a dire situation, should the need arise.” She tapped the vial. “That’s where this comes in.”

“Great!” Dorothea paused. “What is it?”

Johanna opened her mouth wide and pointed to the roof of it, where a small white berry hung from a fleshy stem. It was small and shrivelled, as if struggling to grow. “My magic is called True Mistletoe. It’s only active from October to January, but I save a lot of the juice from the berries that grow here. That’s what nullifies enemy magic. Something like that can turn the tides, no doubt.”

Dorothea nodded. Johanna’s needles had often been the quiet key to Ghurian victory if she recounted all the times she’d had to reverse the events at Izozkia the first time the two forces had clashed there. “So in that case I’d only have to manage a small scrape.”

“Right.” Gren stepped in here to hand her a slender blade identical to the ones he carried, complete with a leather sheath and strap. “We want to give you whatever tools we can. This is a way you might be able to defend yourself without using your magic. We don’t expect it to come to that, but we want you to be safe.”

They were so considerate her heart swelled. “Thank you. So what do I do?”

“Coat the knife in that juice, but be careful and remember that the effects only last for half a minute,” Johanna explained. “If you can manage to catch someone off guard, it’ll serve you well. Our goal here is for the enemy not to know you have it at all. Use it only if there’s no one else to defend you. If they enemy expects it, there’s no chance you’ll be able to pull anything off.”

Dorothea clutched the blade tightly, accepting its weight. “I’ll do my best.”

Johanna smiled and started stretching. “Welp, nothing like practical experience. Gren and I will demonstrate some of the moves, and then it’ll be you fending me off, Dorothea. Pay close attention, ‘cause I’d hate to have gotten up this early only to see no improvements.”

Johanna had been on night watch, so she really was going out of her way. “Y-Yes ma’am!”

She chuckled. “I can see why you’re sweet on her, Grenny.”

He glanced quickly at Dorothea, who was trying very hard to force her blush back down, before letting out a huff and drawing a knife. Six slender black blades designed for throwing were cloaked in a holster on his right leg. “Focus, will you?”

“See, Dorothea, he can’t even deny it.” She smoothly sidestepped as Gren came at her, then toppled to the ground as he crouched low and swept her legs by kicking out. “I let you do that.”

“Sure.” He helped her to her feet. “Take your stance.”

“Looking lively, aren’t you?”

By the end of several hours of practice, they’d judged her just barely competent enough to get the job done, with luck on her side. The problem was keeping her wits about her. If she didn’t know how to react with allies against her, then hesitation against an enemy would get her killed.

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Johanna concluded her instruction with another big yawn. “Well, see you guys later. Good luck today.” She gave Dorothea one last smile, patting the top of her head in farewell. “Take care out there!” she called over her shoulder.

“I will…” Dorothea pushed her hands to the spot she’d been touched. “She’s really nice.”

“She is,” Gren agreed. He looked her over. “Did we go too hard on you?”

She would be covered in bruises later and her wounded arm was screaming, but progress was progress. “I’m fine. But if we could take a break before we go back out there, I’d like that.” As he nodded, they turned back towards his room.

Their efforts in healing the land over the past few days were going well, but it had Wesley and Gren witnessing her limitations firsthand; Rhys was the only one who hadn’t been shocked. The nosebleeds, the vomiting, the fainting… Dorothea knew she should have warned them better, but she hadn’t wanted to complain. Besides, it didn’t change what they needed to do.

“Hey.” Gren had stopped walking in the hallway and was looking at her doubtfully. “You told me before in the planning stage that you had a sense of how much time you have left.”

“Right…” She crossed her arms, afraid of where this was going.

“But you conveniently didn’t mention, and avoided the question of, how much time you’ll have by the end.” He looked at her expectantly.

Well, passing out had been an awfully convenient way to dodge the question. “Um. It’s fine, really…” A stupid thing to say and she knew it, but she was at a loss for words.

He sighed. “You know, I hate feeling helpless.”

“Huh? I mean yes, I think everyone does.”

“It feels like…like there’s a knife to my throat, and something unreachable right in front of my fingertips. Understand?”

To respect what he was saying, she let that sink in. She imagined the physical sensation and fear that would come with it. “I’m sorry, Gren… Is that how I’m making you feel? I mean, obviously it is, I just… I never wanted to hurt anyone.”

“I don’t mind if you hurt me,” he said calmly, and her heart heated and somersaulted so painfully she had to stifle a gasp. Did he have any idea what words like that meant to her? They were so tender and beautiful. “And I care about you a lot, more than I should. So whether it’s selfish or not, please, I want to know.”

“Gren, I…” Gods, he wasn’t just precious to her, she was a tiny bit in love. He’d challenged her to be better beyond her wildest dreams for herself. In the Catacombs and even before then when he’d called out her hatred and blindness, he’d pulled her from a darkness she’d thought inescapable, given her so many chances and agreed to stand by her side.

His eyes were boring into hers. “How much time will you have left after we’re done?”

She was still reeling from having her emotions click into place. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to worry. Or maybe I figured there was no point, since it is what it is,” she explained sheepishly.

“Dorothea.” Her name in his voice gave her shivers. “How much time?”

“A year at most,” she admitted. “But before you say anything, I’ve thought about this! I have to be prepared for anything. There are people I want to live no matter what, so I’m allotting time for that too. I’ll heal your wounds, all of you, and I’ll keep you alive. I’ve got enough in me for that. I just… I’ve made my peace. It’s important that I do this with all I have.”

He was quiet for an agonizing, awkward amount of time. “Okay. A year.” He opened his mouth, closed it again, then dragged a hand through his bangs, making them stick out and exposing some of his forehead. Dorothea got the most shameful urge to kiss it. “It’s a lot of time, but also none at all. Huh…”

“I’m sorry.” She took a step towards him. “You know, because of you I was able to work to change myself. So no matter what, know that I’ve made more out of my life than I ever dared to dream of thanks to you.”

“What? Me? You made a lot of decisions on your own.”

She had to laugh. “I know, but more than anyone else, you inspired me to become better than I was. So you’re the last person I wanted to hurt or lie to, and I’m sorry.”

He smiled. “Don’t worry. Just remember what I said.”

I don’t mind if you hurt me. As if she could forget words like that.

“Come on. Let’s take a break.” Gren turned and she followed him back into his room, trying not to stare at his back while she thought of something to say.

“Something I’ve noticed about you,” she said once they had sat on the floor across from each other, “is that you have a tendency to say what you want and not let things fester.”

“Mostly.”

“I guess I was just wondering how you got to be so determined. I admire your forthrightness.” She wanted to close every gap she could think of, fill her head with his stories.

“I trained myself,” he said, giving a small smile as she laughed.

“You trained yourself to say whatever was on your mind?”

“Yeah. Time is a luxury. So I need to say these things.”

Dorothea looked at her lap, feeling restless. “You know, my friend Shark said something similar. They told me we could all lose our lives at any moment, so life is only worth living if we work to make the most of it. That got me thinking, you know? Of what I’d do if I…” Feeling his gaze on her, she glanced at him and caught his dark, intense eyes. “Had more time,” she concluded in a small voice.

“You’ve mentioned them before. Will you tell me more?” Gren asked after a small silence.

“Sharkie… At a time when I was all alone, they came crashing in and saved me. But they just…want different things than I do, so it looks like we’ll have to be apart now.” She clutched at her chest like that would stop it from hurting so much.

“You never know. Some people can change.”

It didn’t sound like he was saying it as false comfort, so she chased his certainty. “You really think so?”

“You changed. And I changed, thanks to someone who saved me too.” He laughed his short breath of a laugh. “I guess I had my own Sharkie, then.”

“Your own…? Haha!” That laugh, the way he’d just said ‘Sharkie’, it was all so, so cute… Her cheeks and ears felt hot; she bowed her head to hide behind her hair, not wanting him to see and guess what she knew she was making too obvious. “So you have a very important person too, then?” Could it be a lover? Not that she had any right to be jealous.

“Well… Let me ask. Are you scared of Wesley?”

“Aside from his obvious desire for murder he’s a very pleasant fellow, I think?”

Gren chuckled. “Let me tell you something that might help you understand the both of us better, if that’s okay.”

“Please.” Anything he might say, she would take it and hold it close.