“A little help?” Heloise stared expectantly at the markswoman.

Alma, beaten and bloodied and rubbing her aching fist, let out her usual exasperated sigh. She grabbed her friend’s fallen staff and poised herself, ready to strike at the rocky trap encircling the witch tightly.

“Hey! No, wait!” Heloise protested. “Be careful with that! Alma, don’t. Don’t!”

“What then?” questioned Alma, staff in hand. “We gotta get you out of there. Who knows what kind of infection you can get from a bite like that. Are you even okay?”

“I-I’m fine,” lied the witch. “It doesn’t even hurt. But I’d very much like to get out of this place once and for all before any more mutated old-timey assholes show up.”

“Don’t jinx it.”

Alma grabbed one of the burning torches from the wall and flipped it downwards to the ground, extinguishing its magic flame. Then, swinging it upward, brought it down on Zosimos’s petrified arm. She repeated this a few times before the stone appendage began to crack and eventually break off. After that, it was a simple task of pulling the rest of the long, thin arm from around Heloise’s body.

The witch, now free, immediately reached for the cherished staff she had recently acquired. She hugged it tightly, as if it were a precious doll, and spoke sweet nothings into its invisible ear. All the while, her collar was being dyed in continuous strands of crimson blood.

“At least pay attention to what’s important.” Alma tugged on the sleeve of her shirt and placed it over Heloise’s wound, attempting to staunch the blood flow.

“I’m important to you, huh?”

“Let’s just go home already so you can get that thing checked out. My sister has some medical training, maybe she can fix you up.”

“I’d rather play doctor with you instead,” the witch replied coquettishly, batting her eyelashes in an exaggerated manner.

“Shut up already, you dummy. We almost died! Imagine what would’ve happened if you hadn’t hired my services.”

Heloise smiled and rested her head on the sleeved hand of her friend that was resting on her shoulder.

“Thanks for saving me, Alma.”

“You can thank me by bringing one of those torches along so I’m not walking blind on our way out.” Alma chuckled softly. “After seeing how scared you got, I’d rather you not lead the way this time.”

Heloise backed away and frowned at her friend for the slighted remark. Silently, she went over and grabbed a torch with her free hand and thrusted it in front of Alma.

“Whatever. Let’s just get out of this—” Heloise froze mid-sentence. The emerald staff in her hand was emitting an eerie glow. Something was amiss.

“Heli?”

“Alma. Something’s wrong. I-I can’t move.” She looked down nervously at her feet. At some point, her left foot had been slowly encasing itself in stone. A worst-case scenario had presented itself.

“Oh no. What did you do? Was it the bite?”

"I don't think so. Maybe I fucked up the spell somehow? Shit. Merde ! Fuck! Please don't do this to me now. After everything?" The young sorceress's voice filled with a panicking terror once again. The skin of her leg was gradually encasing in stone. In her hand, the staff continued to emit a pulsing green luminescence.

"Your staff. It's your staff, isn't it? Why else would it be glowing?"

"N-No! Don't be stupid. Why would my own staff betray me?" She giggled nervously while clutching the rod close. "We were both just heroes together. My staff loves me. It wouldn't do this to me."

"Then make it stop glowing. Make it stop doing whatever it is it's doing!"

"Haha. You think I didn't just try that? Obviously this isn't normal but it's totes unrelated. Trust me. Crois moi."

"Damn it, Heli." Alma reached for the staff in Heloise's hand, only for it to be pulled greedily away. "Give. Me. The. Staff."

"No! Mitts off!"

Alma reached over once again and grabbed hold of the staff, pulling it and her friend's arm roughly. Heloise dragged it right back to her chest, protesting loudly. A tug-of-war started between the staff that lasted roughly ten seconds before the energies of the thing began to concentrate elsewhere.

As if responding to her desires, the stone curse had slowly began to encroach upon the witch's fingers, making it virtually impossible to release the staff from her now petrified grip. Staring wide-eyed, Heloise was now left speechless.

"See?! Why didn't you let go?!"

"I-I—" She couldn't find the words. Despite her friend's warnings, Heloise had almost died acquiring this treasure of a life-time, and she'd be damned if she gave it up now.

Alma tugged the head of the staff toward her, placed her pistol behind it, and fired her last shot.

"Alma! NOOOOOOO!"

The staff's emerald crown of serpents was shattered into millions of tiny shards—its spectral green energies dissipating into the darkness. The rocky affliction that had been making its way across Heloise's body had completely dissolved. There was a stinging pain in the witch's eyes as she tossed the broken staff to the ground causing the tears to well up once again. Her chest was hurting. In attempting to save her life, her best friend had stabbed a knife into her heart and twisted it. An affront she wasn't going to easily forgive.

"Heloise. Are you okay? I'm sorry about the staff but it was the only way—"

Heloise's gaze refused to look upon her friend as she spoke. With silent anger, she took off up the steps, not uttering a single word despite her partner's constant protestations, until they made it back to the entrance of the cave. The sun had set, meaning the only source of light was now the torch in Alma's hand. The witch, still quietly seething, pulled out her old staff, lit it and began walking away. After only a few steps, she stopped and slowly veered her head to the side.

"Thanks for coming, Alma. Good luck in the war. "

Uttering words dripping with disappointment, the witch marched somberly into the forest and vanished.