Feels like you’ve been saying that a lot lately. Her eyes opened to the cloudless sky. The sun hadn’t moved much, there should be more than enough time to catch the final ferry. It was a good feeling. Everything was coming together.

Two, I think. I’m ready. I can feel it. Something has changed, I don’t really know how to explain it. It’s not building up anymore, I think. It’s... I don’t know. It feels strong. She lifted a hand up toward the sky as if she could see the changes in her own body. The only change she could see were that the burns had cracked and started leaking fluid.

Why would anyone choose not to progress? Karen couldn’t imagine not pursuing this as far as it went.

For a moment Karen thought it was more monsters and made ready to jump up and make a break for it. Anything was better than undergoing another magical torture session. The flight instinct calmed down when she spotted the figures in the distance making their way over the livestock wall and directly to her.

Karen frowned. Our fancy friends from earlier?

One of her healing potions was produced and quaffed, causing her to tremble from the sensation of it. Not long ago it would have been agonizing, but after recently resetting the scale for pain tolerance several times it was now entirely reasonable.

The trio were taking their time, and Karen opted to patiently let them come, picking at her newly healed hands. The healing had regrown skin under the burn instead of repairing what was damaged, leaving a sticky, wet layer of papery skin behind. The larger sections sloughed off like working with wet paper mache, but smaller parts were more resilient, forcing her to pick it out manually. It was simultaneously revolting and satisfying.

They stopped a fair distance from her. Between politeness or wariness, Karen couldn’t tell which one was driving the choice.

“Hello again, friend.”

“Yo.” From the look on his face this either translated very well or very poorly.

“You made an unwise choice coming here.”

“I’m thinking so did you.” Karen spit. All told, she was a little parched, but every western she’d ever seen told her this was the time to do it.

“That was true once, but not now.” He looked back at his silent crew before continuing. “We were watching you. We saw what you’re capable of.”

“Oh yeah? Seems like you spend a lot of time watching me. How many of these things could the three of you kill?” It was a guess, but the looks they gave each other were loaded, and she believed she’d seen enough episodes of SVU to get to the bottom of this.

“I’m going to lay this out as easily as I can. I don’t care. I don’t care who you are, or who your buddies are. I don’t care who that corpse is or how he ended up dead. I’m heading back to town. After a couple days I’ll be somewhere you’ve never heard of and will never go, and you can go on about your business of killing and bribing and daydrinking and stuff. Whatever this is, it’s not my business and you need to leave me out of it.”

Inside, Karen was terrified. She had never fought a person while using a sharp stick, not even recreationally, and had zero confidence in winning. Outside, she was every negotiating tactic she’d ever used. Project confidence, intimidate to undermine their position, and give them some portion of what they want so they feel they’ve won something. She hoped it was enough.

Her speech set off a flurry of angry whispers between them. The immediate thought was to leave them to argue without her, but she was certain it would force their hand in an unfavorable way. It wasn’t long before two camps emerged in the elf whisper fight, the leader and a second against the other. More and more heat was added as it went on, but after a while the three reached some kind of agreement.

“You’ve seen too much. I… my father says to be successful you have to manage risk. I apologize, Destined for Drinking, I have no choice.” A sword materialized in his hand, then the second elf did the same. The third frowned, backing away.

God damned spineless brat living in the shadow of his daddy. Do you think I can run?

Fuck. She had one last gambit. They said they had been watching her, but she wasn’t certain what they had been able to see from that distance.

A freshly summoned black spear appeared in her moving arm as she slammed the butt into the ground with a hard WHUMP. The shadowy smoke poofed down the length and spread out, obscuring the ground near her feet. Fine steel sabers, even when polished to a gleam and with a wicked looking edge, were toys next to the light drinking soul weapon.

The weapon was frightful, but she wanted to look as much so. Gaze dark like her father’s with his temper up. Back straight with the strong bearing of The Great Wizard, Auguste. His easy posture, ready to do violence at any moment. The unwavering, terrifying smile he held.

“I like what your father says, son. I wonder, what’s he going to say at your funeral? The way I see it, you’re at risk of two things right now: bleeding out in the dust, or parting ways and going about your lives.”

The two of them stopped in their tracks, and they were wise to. She was an intimidating sight. Now well over six and a half feet, and with a powerful physique and a big, fuck-off weapon to say she meant business. But societal pressures have a way of overwhelming fear. What was the fear of a large fighter compared to disappointing your family? The thin elf advanced, and his comrade apprehensively followed.

Internally, Karen was screaming. She wanted nothing to do with these clowns. If only she had sprinted away from the final two monsters instead of taking the kills, maybe she could have run off in a way that the elves couldn’t have intercepted. No, that was a stupid thing to think. They were here now, and any thoughts aside from how to handle the situation were pointless. They probably would have ambushed her somewhere else anyway.

Her mind kept returning to The Great Wizard, Auguste even as she leveled her spear and waited for the two of them to approach. He would crush the pair with overwhelming force. Overwhelming force. She didn’t have that. She’d put it on her shopping list. The spirit had said none of the things he did were spells, meaning she’d have to be developed enough physically to replicate even the laziest of his ‘spells.’

The attacking duo forked out, splitting their approach. Karen countered that by quickly sidestepping around the leader, forcing him between her and the mute elf. He didn’t seem to care. A Man Destined For Glory made the first move, ignoring his comrade’s disadvantageous position.

He charged, selling Karen on his coming in hard only to stop short. Karen’s thrust was deftly knocked aside, and his weapon dropped to the dirt as two hands firmly grabbed the haft of her spear. His strategy was a good one: hold the weapon and let his second do the fun part. But since he wanted it so badly, Karen released the spear and let him have it, throwing the smaller man off balance. Then she resummoned the spear and let him have it, throwing his welfare off balance.

The attempted dodge wasn’t terrible under the circumstances, but her strike still hit firmly, entering high in the chest and exiting the back under the shoulder. He screamed bloody murder. A hit like that was sure to put him out of the fight, but she wouldn’t feel comfortable until she put him out of every fight, and so pulled back for another thrust. He was wide open, and she shoved hard, aiming once more for the chest. With a clank, it was knocked aside by his companion.

The second elf pressed forward, now inside her guard and wanting to capitalize on it. He slashed down at her, and she managed to block it on her hard, black shaft. He yanked the blade back, dragging it across her forearm as he did so. The cut was deep and bleeding freely almost as soon as the metal was pulled free. It didn’t hurt, almost like she was watching someone else’s arm get slashed, but her grip felt strange on her weapon. Not a good sign.

If there was an advantage to be had, her opponent saw no point in pressing it. He backed out of her spear range to reset, slowly circling as he tested her guard with quick feints. It wasn’t a winning strategy. He was camped out in perfect range for her weapon, and not even sniffing at closing the gap. It was only a matter of time.

Karen nearly stumbled forward, barely catching herself before she would have gone face first at her opponent’s feet. Something had struck her from behind. It wasn’t a mystery. Karen didn’t need Scoob and the gang to come up and solve the mystery of the hitting it from behind. There was half a sword coming out from her gut. The pokey half.

“You took quite some time. I was beginning to think you had gone coward like poor Jules.” The elf in front of her said. She only half heard it. She couldn’t take her focus away from the blade.

They’d ruined her shirt. The wine glass had been cut in half, and blood was leaking quickly from the cut. It looked almost like the glass had been broken and the spill was spreading out across her stomach. It was blood o’clock.

“I was wounded, sir, and painfully so. And now I must be wounded once more to hear such harshness from a friend?” A hand behind her pressed down on her shoulder. It was gentle, almost friendly. It only half registered.

Her shirt was already soaked, and now it was dripping. Drip drip drip. Right onto her boots. Her new fucking boots. Did they have any idea how much these cost?

“Glory, you are my sworn brother. You had all of my faith, and more than enough talent.”

They were ruined. Fucking ruined. She couldn’t look away. Couldn’t look away until the grip in her hair lifted her chin and she felt the hand on her shoulder press against the side of her neck.

“Well then, brother, I do believe I have earned the honor.”

Honor? Fuck honor. He literally stabbed me in the back.

Motherfuckers ruined my fucking BOOTS!

Quickstep. The persistent tingling in her body ceased.

Stab me in the back, I’ll show you how to stab a motherfucker in the back. From behind she could see his arm drop where it had previously been resting against her. She summoned her spear. It suffered no resistance as it punched through his heart.

Karen wished she could see his look of triumph fade into utter defeat. The look of his friend would have to do; she could actually pinpoint the second his heart broke in half. It was a slideshow of emotion, from gloating, to confusion, then disbelief, and finally uncontrolled rage. She couldn’t take her eyes away.

But she had to. She had to for what was coming next. She smiled at him. There was blood on her face.

Quickstep.

The elf’s sword came back for a blind parry, at the same time he tried to dive forward. Fancy lad had clearly missed a lesson on trying to half ass two things. She whole assed a thrust, entering under the ribs and damn near exiting his pretty boy neck. He didn’t move when he hit the ground.

Part of her expected one to get up and try to finish it like some kind of horror movie cliché. Another part expected the third elf to join in the fight like he was the final boss all along, but he merely stood back where he’d been the entire time.

She stood panting. Waiting. Bleeding. Leaning heavily on her spear while the other shoe did whatever it was going to do. Nothing happened.