A lot, it turns out.

The moment Corvus took a step forward, her spear was flying towards vital spots from what seemed like three different directions at once. It was all Corvus could do try and not get pieces of himself cut off left and right. In that single exchange that lasted no longer than 4 seconds, Corvus was on the back foot for all of it and would be dead many times over if he didn’t heal as much as he did.

Another rain of strikes forced Corvus back, and he took the opportunity to put some distance between them, taking an extra five steps just to be safe. He could still see Gilgamesh lounging in his comfortable patch of sun.

“Oh that's it, you useless pile of-“. Corvus growled quietly to himself.

Gilgamesh’s eyes immediately shot open and glared at Corvus with a piercing command.

“Don’t you dare call me useless, boy!” Gilgamesh shouted from his improvised bed. At that moment, he noticed the new danger that had arisen. His expression changed from irritation to surprise then to indifference. “Oh. Just a minute.” He stood up and began to stretch.

“Really? Now?” Corvus complained, turning his attention back to the advancing woman, who was raising her spear again, the focus on her face was cold and deadly.

Then she vanished, before reappearing behind Corvus. She was unbelievably fast, especially considering the size of her spear. She lunged for his head, which Corvus lifted his blade to catch the blow. It never came, instead, piercing his stomach. He tried again to grip the spear and restrict its movement, but it was gone by the time his hand reached it. The handle collide with the back of his head, then the blade sliced back towards his chest. There was nothing Corvus could do to stop it as it tore open his clothes and carved into him.

As Gilgamesh finished stretching, he looked over to the one sided duel and snapped his fingers, sighing.

With that snap, the world became sluggish, the woman moved as if she were in the ocean. She became slow and predictable. Corvus stood up, tugging at his torn clothes.

“Took you long enough. Just look.” Corvus held up his broadsword, its edge worn and dented to the point of bluntness. “That’s on you.”

Gilgamesh shrugged, then motioned to the woman, almost frozen mid-strike. Corvus sighed. He didn’t want to kill one of the people in his visions but if he had no choice, then so be it.

He moved her spear out of the way and connected his fist to her stomach. He drew Raven from her holster, brought back both hammers and sent both rounds into her chest, before putting her back in place. He lined up the point of his blunted blade with her neck, ready to end her life in one single strike.

“Time’s up.” Gilgamesh said with a self congratulatory smile. He snapped his fingers again, speeding time back up.

The woman was knocked back into a tree, blood spraying from her mouth from both impacts. She gasped and clutched her chest, coughing up more deep red liquid.

Corvus sagged slightly. The feeling of killing someone that he was looking for was a curious one. A mix of loss and regret seemed to fill the void that was inside Corvus for a split second, before vanishing again. He turned to walk away, the hundreds of black, knowing eyes of the crows bored into him with a fiery judgement. Then there was a noise. Something between a low hum and a quill on new parchment.

The crows tilted their heads towards the noise, coming from behind Corvus. He turned around to see, curiosity the forefront of his mind. The woman was drawing a symbol of black lines into the air with her finger. She was barely moving but drawing steadily, as if the symbol was the most important thing in the world. As blood seeped from her mouth, she had to slow down to steady her hand.

Corvus’ gaze was fixed with interest, studying the symbol in detail. What looked relatively simple was instead filled with complexities and precisions that were so subtle that even a trained eye would need time to recognise. Then she connected the two loose ends, and the symbol hummed with a deep, resonant tone as it began to move with her hand. She pressed the symbol against her stomach and it began to emit small streams of green smoke. She looked on the verge of screaming with the pain, tensing every muscle that wasn’t torn.

The blood that she had previously coughed up began to move backwards, flowing back into her mouth like a reverse waterfall. Two small bullets fell out of the holes in her chest, before the holes began to stitch themselves up. Her eyes began to tear up with the feeling. Eventually, she gasped for air and slumped on the ground, any injuries that she had received before were nothing but a memory, besides a light scar that was seared into her stomach where she had pressed the symbol.

She began to stand up, slowly and difficultly, but definitely. She looked at Corvus with a face of shock and eyes of determination. Corvus on the other hand, began sincerely applauding.

“Awesome trick.” Corvus complimented, curiosity and wonder playing beneath his stoicism. “Can I learn that?”

Instead of answering, she held out her hand, palm down and closed her eyes. Corvus and the crows both tilted their heads, eager to see more. Green light spilled from her hand, weaving together in bands of emeralds and pines, forming something gradually larger and more defined.

The shape began to change into a large creature, maybe 7 feet long and four feet to hold itself. Though it was different shades of translucent, ethereal green, the stripes were prevalent on its large mass of thick fur. Corvus didn’t pay attention to how long it took, but there was a point that he realised just what he was seeing.

“You’ve got a tiger?” Corvus asked, his eyes wide with awe. “Nice.”

That tiger then launched itself towards him, claws and teeth flashing underneath the beastial roar of fury that followed. The nearby crows understood what was happening, and decided to find branches that were as far away from the tiger as possible to continue watching the interesting events.

Corvus responded to the leap by clenching his fist and connecting a blow with the side of the oncoming tiger’s head. It flew to the side, deftly taking the hit and landing without a sound, though it scared more crows. It jumped again, this time leading with its claws. The angle was awkward so Corvus could only block half the blow with his sword, which bent severely, and took the rest on his shoulder, sending him tumbling into a tree.

The tiger leapt once more, going for the kill shot. Corvus tensed himself, ready for the hit. The tiger’s teeth met the dull and beaten blade of his broadsword while its claws pinned Corvus’ sides. The sword snapped like a twig, leaving a broken handle in his right hand and the blade in the tiger’s mouth. It spit the piece of metal to the side and ent for the kill again.

Throwing the hilt to the side, Corvus brought his arm up to defend himself, causing the tiger to bite down like a vice. He would've lost his arm save for two things: he was apparently tougher than he thought, and the swallow bracelet on his wrist refused to buckle even slightly. Not expecting this resistance, the tiger focussed more on its bite than its claws, allowing Corvus to wrench his left arm free and slam a grip onto the back of its neck.

The tiger caught a look in Corvus’ eyes, and immediately it was caught off guard. There was such a terrifying look in his eyes that the tiger questioned how it was still alive.

“Bad.” Corvus growled, his voice thick with bloodlust.

He threw the tiger to his left with all the strength he had, causing it to completely crash through a tree and collapsing it instantly. Corvus stood and slammed is fist into the tree that he crashed against, blowing a whole through it. This tree creaked and snapped with thunderous sounds before exploding on top of the ethereal animal. Corvus turned his eyes to the woman, who's eyes were wide with awe and terror. Corvus tried to summon his anchor, but something was stopping him, he looked down in confusion, only then noticing that the tiger had taken his arm off when he threw it.

“Oh. Hold on.” Corvus said holding a finger up to the woman, as anyone would when holding someone up. He had lost everything from his elbow down and he inspected it more carefully. Several seconds later, his bone began to regrow, followed quickly by the blood, muscle, and everything else. During this time, some of the crows flew off their perches to inspect the fallen trees to see if there was any arm left. By the time a minute or so had passed, his arm was back to normal. He clenched it to see if it was still working before returning his gaze politely to the woman.

Her look of awe and terror seemed to be stuck that way. Corvus looked at his torn sleeve in irritation, before looking to the wreckage.

The crows had pulled the torn remains of his arm free of the tangled mess of tree and ethereal tiger, the swallow bracelet still firmly in place. A crow met Corvus’ eyes and took flight with the arm, with extreme difficulty and protest from the other crows. Cleo’s face was darting from him to the crows, confused and shocked at the spectacle.

The birds were flying into each other to get a piece of the fresh meat, eventually dropping it into Corvus’ outstretched hand. He unclasped the bracelet and snapped it shut around his new arm, before rewarding the crows by tossing their meal onto a small patch of moss, which they took to greedily.

“Right. Sorry about that. Let's continue.” Corvus said, nodding.

He summoned his anchor and chain, spinning them in a whizzing vortex that caused some of the other crows to re-adjust their balance. This summoning changed the look that was on her face from terror and awe to surprise and desperate joy. A curious mix to say the least.

“Wait! Wait! That anchor...”. Her voice trailed off as she stared, hardly believing her eyes.

Corvus stopped spinning, catching it as it fell into his hand.

“Yes?” Corvus asked, slightly confused.

“How old are you?” She asked, disbelief in her voice.

“Uh…17 I think.” Corvus thought, his memory still not entirely clear on the subject.

She gasped.

“But…that shouldn’t be possible. They develop at 18. So how?” She began muttering to herself about possibilities and abnormalities that Corvus didn’t even bother trying to understand.

“You’re saying you know what this is?” Corvus asked, tilting his head in sequence with the crows again.

She nodded, motioning to the fallen trees.

“Yes. It's the same as my tiger.”

“In what way? He's an animal. Anchors aren't animals…I think.” Corvus had to re-evaluate his whole understanding of anchors in that moment.

She shook her head, trying to get out the words, eventually deciding to sigh and just explain as simply as possible.

“It's not that they’re alive, it’s…it’s a lot to explain.” She shrugged apologetically.

“Well,” Corvus sat on a small patch of leaves and dug up earth, “I've got the time.” Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Gilgamesh snoring again on his new favourite patch of moss.

Her eyes looked at the broken hilt that used to be Corvus’ broadsword.

“But…aren't you sad about your sword?” She lowered her gaze shamefully.

“Nah. It’s not like I have a magical anchor to replace it or anything. Except for the fact that I do.” Corvus shrugged.

“Oh…ok”. She was slightly taken aback at the swift change in moods and the out of place stoic sarcasm but walked over and sat down a few paces away just to be on the safe side.

Corvus held out his hand.

“I'm Corvus. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh.” She took his hand and shook it in greeting. “I'm Cleo. Cleo Rogun.”