Though the large ship pulled into port on the cusp of night, Sammy and Julie showed no signs of tiredness. While they readied their horses, Julie asked, “Are they near?”

Sammy didn’t stop what she was doing, but she focused. Like how she knew where her hands were when her eyes were closed, she somewhat knew where the wild beasts were, could guess their size and speed.

“Four or five. If we follow the route south, we should avoid the worst that trail behind,” Sammy said.

Julie nodded.

Even at night, the trading city showed its prosperity, lit with the modern amenities that had trickled out of Hopschtat, roads well-paved, countless establishments overflowing with song and cheer. Julie might have felt her role as guard was purely for show by now, but that didn’t stop her unease at all the noise. How similar the starts of choruses and cries of terror sounded to ears already listening for trouble.

Of course, Julie knew the real trouble would come beyond the city walls, beyond the bright lights and wavering torches, out in the darkness where even silence didn’t offer prey safety.

Leaving the city, that noise quickly died out. “The route follows a gentle slope up to a rather wide pass. If my estimations are correct, we should arrive around dawn, at which point we can rest at the trading post there,” Sammy said.

Julie heard that “should”, not as Sammy being unsure when they would arrive, but if they would, and her heart tensed up, the next few beats painful until the spike of anxiety passed. As enjoyable as the journey had been recently, these moments reminded her that, blessed or not, Sammy could die. And thinking about that hurt—had hurt from the start of their journey.

Reminded Julie that Sammy really was risking her life for this chance at love.

For the little time that they were in the city’s glow, Julie spiralled down, unable to believe Sammy’s life worth love from such a worthless woman. However, she fell back to her training when darkness proper swallowed them.

After being idle for so long, the horses pushed for a faster pace, but Sammy kept Faith reigned in and Hope had the habit of matching. It would have been easy to tire out on the incline, important to stop at a place of Sammy’s choosing.

Because they were not alone.

Sammy had intuited many things about the wild beasts on their journey. Importantly, they mostly travelled at night. As hard as they were to see in the shadows during the day, Sammy knew she wouldn’t see one if it was right in front of her—not beings of darkness, but of night. That was how something as large as the one that had attacked her birthday party could have travelled from the Corrupted Lands undetected.

A second thing, they seemed to grow more desperate, erratic, the closer they came to her. That their pace picked up, that they moved towards her instead of aiming ahead to cut her off. Curving as if being pulled into her orbit.

Three hours of darkness but for the light of the cremoon and moonlet filtering through night clouds, of silence but for the beat of the horses’ hooves, and Sammy brought them to a stop.

Nothing needed to be said. Julie dismounted quickly and readied Sammy’s bow and arrows, for once thankful of the night drills, and then readied herself with sword and shield. Not her sword nor her shield. Heavy thoughts not easily put down, she knew tonight these were Sammy’s sword and shield. The culmination of her morbid thinking: it felt easier to imagine herself dying than for Sammy to die. That was… calming. A purpose. The same purpose she had trained all her life for, reaffirmed.

Still, in the black of night, with barely a trickle of moonlight to see by, Julie could do little. She knew that, simply stayed at Sammy’s side and waited.

Sammy’s vision fared not much better, but was better. With her extra sense to guide her, she could spot the shifting of grass, could watch as a deeper darkness covered up what she could see.

What the night’s darkness did do was distort Sammy’s sense of distance, dropping her confidence.

“If it comes to it, I shall engulf us in divine fire,” Sammy whispered.

“Understood,” Julie said.

Then silence but for their heartbeats pounding in their ears.

Seconds dragged to minutes, Sammy for once struggling to control her patience. She knew that to make the first move required her aim be true lest they rush her, yet wait too long and they could well rush her first, the tension weighing heavily on her.

Until finally, a thought came to Sammy: she could die happy having known love.

Sammy's arrogance rekindled and quieted her doubts, however reasonable they were.

There was no signal. Julie simply heard the movement at her side and tensed up, ready to react. A flare of divine light, the heavy snap of the bowstring, then hissing like water on hot stone. She could see even less with that bright light burned into her sight. Panic rose up like a wave to try and drag her in, but she stood steady, ignored her own desperation to see and instead listened.

Listened to that hissing, to the rustle of Sammy’s clothing—to the footfalls of wild beasts.

One streak of light then another cut through the night and Julie followed as Sammy backed up. Julie tried to hear, but the overlapping hissing made it hard, the divine fires burning up the wild beasts that were hit.

Still, Julie tried, tried—another arrow let loose, landing true a dozen paces from them and erupting into flames—flinching, Julie still tried, the edge of her awareness drawing her over, instinct pulling up her shield, bracing—an arrow whipped past her ear, painfully loud with how she strained to hear, body tensing out of fright—light pricked at her closed eyes a heartbeat before the impact, a heavy crash into her shield that staggered her back, reeling, whiting out from the pain for a moment, forearm aching.

Before Julie could get her bearings, Sammy was on her, touching her. Utterly bewildered, she couldn’t ask why, but the reason soon became clear: an acrid smell, harsh enough to sober her up.

“It is a good thing we are so warmly dressed,” Sammy murmured.

“Mm.”

Julie obediently watched as Sammy cleansed the spatters of corruption that had gone around the, admittedly rather small, shield, hands softly glowing with divine light. Light touches that Julie barely felt. Once Sammy was satisfied, that glowing faded and, despite her still being in arms’ reach, Julie couldn’t see more than her silhouette.

“We should carry on,” Sammy whispered.

“Okay,” Julie said.

Although Sammy had said that, they waited a minute, letting their eyes readjust to the darkness, then taking another minute to settle the horses. At last, they set off.

There was nothing for Julie to say, so she said nothing, and it seemed that same was true for Sammy. That left Julie to notice how much louder the silence was now, the bugs and night birds apparently more afraid of the wild beasts than people on horses. Now and then, more moonlight trickled through the clouds, letting her gaze at the nightscape. Yet, like a fallen star, the city far behind them still shone brightest, eventually disappearing beneath the natural rise and fall of the slope. The ache in her arm soon numbed, not that it bothered her; she was used to lingering pains from her training.

So they wandered through the night, only stopping to rest the horses once, eating a small “lunch” at that time of bread and soup, heated up by divine fire. That reminded Julie of how nice Sammy’s blessing had been when they hiked through Dworfen—a skill that had mostly been used to light candles and heat water for bathing since coming back to Hufen.

Eventually, dawn crept upon them, light spilling over the mountain range as it funnelled through the pass.

“It’s funny. I should feel tired, but the sunshine’s waking me up,” Julie said lightly.

Sammy chuckled. “Well, we have only been awake some ten hours? I would say to carry on, but I don’t think the next stop will be nearby,” she said.

Something small but significant, Julie had sat on Sammy’s left when they had eaten and now rode on Sammy’s left too. So she had no way to understand the looks they got on the way to the inn, nor the look from the innkeeper, nor did she have any reason to suspect Sammy was keeping her on this side on purpose.

While Julie went through her pack, taking out her nightwear, she asked, “Is it that strange for people to turn up in the morning?”

“I suppose so. There’s really no good reason to travel through the night,” Sammy said.

And it was such a normal tone, Julie had no reason to think anything was wrong. No reason at all—until she turned and saw Sammy gently smiling, a gentle smile that tugged at a scarred cheek.

Julie gasped, eyes wide, then reached out despite being much too far away to reach, then brought back that hand to her mouth, quivering lips unable to decide what expression to make or word to say.

“It should heal in a few days, maybe a week. Still, if it never did, would I be the most beautiful woman in the world?” Sammy quietly asked. A selfish question, she knew. But she was no stranger to being selfish, knowing full well the world would never willingly give her what she wanted, knowing now that only Julie could.

Unfortunately for Sammy, Julie couldn’t focus on the question. Filling her mind were the dead and injured. Because she had been listening, listening so closely, yet…. “You didn’t… cry out,” she said, unable to think of a better way to say it.

Sammy let out a breath of laughter at the unexpected reply. “Mm, I have long since known that no one will come even if I do. However, this was not so painful, my blessing quickly stopping it.”

Those words weren’t at all reassuring for Julie. “But it was painful?” she whispered.

It really was unusual for someone to be concerned for Sammy. Somewhat at a loss, she fell on old habits, putting on a sweet smile and saying, “If you kiss me, it will feel better.”

So Julie did—because she wanted Sammy to feel better, because she wanted to do something to help, because Sammy asked her to. Just that, to Sammy’s surprise, Julie kissed the scarred skin. A gentle touch that would have hurt if any heavier. And Julie’s warm breath fell on it, ticklish, comforting.

“Is that better?” Julie asked.

“Much,” Sammy said with some honesty, looping her arms around Julie. That answer had been just wonderful too.

Though Julie was far from settled, she returned Sammy’s embrace for the moment. Soon, she pulled back, trying to get a better look at the wound; Sammy relented and even turned her cheek.

It didn’t seem deep, no sign of pus or anything else worrying, which finally let Julie relax her worried heart. And it had taken months for the guards’ wounds to heal this much, so it really seemed like the scarring could fade in a week.

That, at last, brought Julie to the question Sammy had asked. She wasn’t naive. She knew this was about her own insecurities, that Sammy wanted her to understand she didn’t have to be flawless to be beautiful.

Except that, this time, Sammy really was just being flirty.

Regardless of intentions, Julie caught herself in tangling thoughts. As often happened when facing something difficult, it didn’t take long for her mind to try and avoid the problem, bringing up old thoughts.

“In Dworfen, you said Liliana wanted to give you the blessing of healing? Have you tried… I mean, after last time… maybe they still gave you another blessing?” Julie asked.

“Is my face now so ugly you cannot bare with it for a week?” Sammy replied, her tone giving nothing away.

Julie softly shook her head, her hands coming to clutch the front of Sammy’s riding habit. Words eluding her, she gave up on speaking, spoke with her lips as she kissed Sammy’s scarred cheek once again. “I don’t want you to be in pain,” she whispered.

Sammy’s neutral expression broke at that. Even though it hurt, she smiled to hide the pain from Julie—the irony not lost on her. “Then, for your sake, I shall try,” she said, caressing Julie’s cheek with one hand, the other still keeping a loose hold of her beloved wife.

Julie bowed her head in silent thanks—while leaning into the touch.

They stayed like that for a minute longer before breaking apart. In no rush, Sammy chose to change first, preferring the ease of her nightwear. Of course, she did so in front of Julie and left it up to Julie whether or not to watch; Julie turned away.

Once done, Sammy said, “I am modest—so to speak.”

Tittering, Julie turned back around. And her gaze was drawn to Sammy. As reluctant as she was to give Sammy answers that would be used against her, she could admit to herself that the scarring didn’t change how she felt. Sammy was beautiful. So beautiful.

Although Sammy would have enjoyed the look in Julie’s eye, her own eyes were closed, already searching for a new blessing. Slow and methodical. She felt as if her body a piano she was playing, seemingly tensing every muscle one by one. Then she came to the “muscles” that controlled the flow of divine power inside her. While she rarely used it to bless her weapons, she had much familiarity with drawing out divine fire.

Thinking back, she tried to recall how it had looked when Sister Tutty had healed little Amélie—the miracle. How the divine power had split into countless threads and cocooned Amélie and the wounds had healed, even the shaved hair growing out. But miracles and blessings were different things and Sammy couldn’t draw out the divine power in the same way.

Once she gave up on that, she thought while carefully tugging at the divine power until something came to her.

Half an hour had passed by now and Julie had watched Sammy closely this entire time. Every frown, every twitch of the fingers, every unspoken word. Even if she hadn’t, the pulse of bright light was hardly inconspicuous, especially with the drawn curtains damming the dawn light.

That light glowed around Sammy’s entire body before being pulled, pulled from her head and toes, down her neck and up her legs, flowing to her arms, finally pooling in her hands. Dazzlingly bright, Julie’s mind told her to look away, yet her eyes didn’t hurt. If anything, her eyes wanted to stare. Pleasant and comforting.

After every bit of light was in Sammy’s hands, it began to dim, but never quite lost its lustre. What was left behind looked like a puddle of moonlight.

And Julie watched as Sammy brought that handful of water up to her face, dipping her cheek in it. There was no sound nor another flash of light nor even a shiver from Sammy. But Julie saw that, one moment there was that horrible scar, the next moment there was flawless skin—as if it had all along simply been some loose dirt.

Sammy then moved her hands apart, but the liquid didn’t fall. No, it became a glittering smoke, rising up into nothingness.

“Better?” Sammy asked.

Though Julie heard that, it took her a long second to react, stepping forward and bringing up her hand. Sammy obliged, presenting her cheek, and Julie stroked it, still disbelieving. She knew well the feel of it, found it softer. A flash of inspiration, she touched the other cheek, found it that little less smooth. Maybe a trick of the eye, she now saw the healed cheek as paler.

“If you keep looking at me so intently, we may not have time to sleep,” Sammy said, her voice low, coming from a smile that promised she could make good on her threat.

Unable to come up with a better phrasing, Julie simply said, “That, that water… it made your skin softer.”

Sammy’s eyes showed her mild surprise and she reached up, comparing her cheeks just as Julie had. After a moment of thought, an answer came to her, perhaps even the right one. “Tell me, do you know the difference between holy water and blessed water?”

“No, I don’t,” Julie said.

Sammy smiled. “Few do, even the bible treating them as interchangeable terms. However, you do know the difference between a miracle and a blessing?” she asked.

Julie thought she did, suddenly felt afraid she didn’t. But Sammy asked and so she answered. “A miracle is… something the gods do. A blessing is when they give a hero divine powers.”

“Correct. However, it is somewhat backwards when it comes to water. Blessed water is usually made through prayer and is used to clean corrupted wounds. Holy water comes from divine power, able to truly heal wounds. For those of an older age, it is even said to make them younger, some tales speaking of bringing the recently dead back to life. Of course, those are stories and prone to exaggerations.”

Sammy’s gaze drifted over to the window.

“Well, it has been a long night. Let us leave matters here for now and rest,” Sammy said.

So their night finally came to an end… after some indulging.

A short sleep saw them rise in the early afternoon. Youthful, any grogginess was soon rinsed off. There wasn’t the same urgency as the day before, so they had time to replenish their supplies and check over their horses, as well as eating a “breakfast”.

Around them, the town was unusual. By appearance, most residents had darker skin, tanned or by birth or both, and there seemed to be as many horses as people. Makeshift stalls sold kegs of water and bales of fodder, farriers worked under tents, the only real shop building being a blacksmith. Julie hadn’t really thought what a “trading post” meant, but this certainly fit.

After leaving the town, there was only the road marring the natural landscape. A barren landscape. As Sammy often did, she spoke of the area’s climate, mentioning the mountain range blocking the rain from the Formadgian sea, little westerly wind to bring rain from the ocean. Despite that, flowers still bloomed. Plants with deep roots and waxy leaves.

“Growing in such a desolate place, how unnatural nature can be,” Sammy said.

The way down was rather steep and the road meandered to better keep a steady gradient, often cutting across the incline, dug out to make it even. Wagons had to get up to the top, after all. And they encountered those wagons, by evening caught up with the wagons that had left in the morning.

Not much about their surroundings had changed, simply more shallow. Vast stretches of dirt dried to an almost orange colour, brownish shrubs here and there, patches of yellowing grass or other small plants—until they came to a town.

“Welcome to Lapdose,” Sammy said.

Though it looked similar enough to towns they had visited before, Julie was more conscious of building styles by now, noticing things like what materials were used for walls and roofs and the colours, if doors and windows were squared or arched.

The buildings here were rather simple brick and mortar, slate shingles, very square and pointy. Just that the roofs stretched out much farther than the buildings, covering half the street in shade, and the bricks were a bright red like they had been painted; some had golden accents, mortar a deep-yet-vivid green.

While Sammy knew the interesting history of the bright red, she did not wish to tell Julie such a… barbaric tale. Slaves and criminals worked to untimely deaths mining cinnabar, poisoned by the mercury therein, then, too dangerous for most uses, the cinnabar was mixed into a lacquer to coat state buildings as a warning to the unruly.

If Julie had known that, she certainly wouldn’t have looked at the buildings with the same kind of awe.

Of course, these buildings weren’t coated with cinnabar, but that was where the colour called Lapdosian red originated. The green was more modern, coming from the somewhat cultural yearn for vegetation. As their traders travelled ever farther, seeds and cuttings of plants that could tolerate the drier conditions of Lapdose had come back, decorative plants feasible now that they weren’t such a waste of water. The gold spoke for itself.

A town along a trading route, there were plenty of places to stay for both them and their horses. Cheap, small rooms, and with more variety of alcohol than food—they indulged in some petty wine. Then it came time to go in for the night. However, neither felt too tired, for a while cuddling and then just lying there in silence, hands joined.

As always, peace left Julie deep in thought. Thoughts about Sammy—about them. Eventually, she went over that moment with the holy water, reminding her of Amélie’s miraculous healing, reminding her of the ordeal Sammy had gone through to rescue Amélie.

Or rather, Julie was reminded that that was why their first kiss had come. When she had thought of Sammy dying without having fulfilled that desire, that had silenced her doubts, focused her on wanting to give Sammy a precious experience. And she found that feeling stirring inside her again. It was easy to forget that, even though blessed, Sammy could be injured.

There was still a part of Julie that wished Sammy would just take the things she wanted. It was hard for Julie to change, really hard. Trapped inside her mind that had no notions of sexuality and only knew of lust as a word to do with men. That was changing, Sammy her patient teacher, but it didn’t change that she had to learn from scratch, had to slowly come to terms with the feelings inside her that had barely sprouted.

The bigger part of Julie was thankful for Sammy’s care. Because she had come to love Sammy, to love Sammy’s touches and kisses, to love touching and kissing Sammy. There was a happiness to it that she was sure she would have never known if she had simply been like a doll for Sammy to use.

And Julie admired Sammy, the Sammy who had carefully nurtured this love. Julie couldn’t imagine having what she most desired right in front of her, day after day, and never faltering.

Thoughts that kept Julie company late into the night.

At dawn, Julie was awoken by a kiss on her cheek.

“I would keep admiring your sleeping face, but I need to pee,” Sammy whispered.

Still half-asleep, Julie giggled, then gave Sammy a kiss good morning, knowing why Sammy hadn’t left yet.

Despite Julie’s late-night thoughts, the day was like any other as they travelled south-east, just reaching the coast by evening. Their horses really were making the most of this time back on land.

“It should be easy to cross over to Alfen, horses and cattle often traded,” Sammy said and, sure enough, they found a ship with spare room for two horses leaving midmorning. No time for wandering, they then sought out a room for the night and found a nearby inn and stable.

A change from their time in Formadgo, there were actual portions of meat for dinner—not just a small side. Tender lamb, fatty, with a sweet sauce to make it less heavy. Julie ate it up fast. She hadn’t realised how much she missed meat, but lean meat had been a staple growing up in the barracks. Sammy watched with a small smile.

Although more tired today, the late departure of the ship meant there was no rush to sleep. So they stayed downstairs for longer than they usually did, drank a few glasses of petty wine, Sammy idly sharing her encyclopaedic knowledge of Lapdose. Petty wine wasn’t easy to get drunk on, especially with a full stomach, but Julie managed to get tipsy, Sammy sure it was more to do with the smell and mood; she took it as their cue to retire.

As always, Sammy began to wash first. Her other everyday use for divine fire, she warmed the water while she undressed, which also kept the chill away, these early months of the year still cold at night.

Meanwhile, Julie sat on the bed, already sober. If not, her thoughts were sobering enough. When Sammy actually started wiping herself down, little splashes and drips, Julie dutifully joined her, taking the cloth and rubbing small circles on her back.

Such a slim back, such narrow shoulders for someone holding the weight of the world.

Less cleaning and more massaging, Julie worked down to the small of Sammy’s back, her gaze comfortable as it rested on Sammy’s neck. Finished, she left the cloth hanging over the edge of the water bucket.

“Thank you, that felt rather refreshing,” Sammy said.

Julie smiled, not that Sammy could see. She then walked back to the bed, but, when she sat down, she didn’t quite face all the way away. It took her a moment to gather her courage. “You… don’t have to dress,” she said, only to almost cringe at how awkward that sounded.

But Sammy knew, always knew. “Then I may just indulge.”

Heart pounding, Julie sat there, Sammy at the edge of her vision. She couldn’t really see, but she noticed. She noticed when Sammy stood up and turned around, noticed the towel, noticed the towel fall, noticed that Sammy soon sat down again to shave. Once Sammy finished shaving, she did some other parts of her routine.

And even though Julie caught a glimpse here and there, her heart calmed down, mind too. So she did what Sammy had long wanted her to do: look.

It didn’t take long for Sammy to notice, meeting Julie’s gaze with a small smile, then continuing what she was doing. At that time, Julie had to fight the urge to look away, stifled the spike of guilt, because it was only natural to see all of her wife.

After Sammy put away the nail files, she chose undergarments to wear and oh so carefully slid them on. It would be awfully unhygienic to sleep naked in a strange bed.

Still, that time had been a small step for Julie, the only acknowledgement of it Sammy’s smile, but a step nonetheless. Julie hoped she would be brave enough to take another step on their travels in Alfen.