Though it must be spoken,

that Her path,

Is one of sorrow.

-The Gospel According to the Holy First Handmaiden

Every inch of Gardinal’s body screamed in agony as he lay, crushed beneath his own shield. It was all broken, shattered by the daemons’ unceasing blows battering him like a post into the earth. But as the blows subsided, and he felt a familiar, comforting glow envelop him, the pain only grew. His bones, shattered shards stabbing through his skin, knit back together. He tried to scream, but his lungs would not move, would not fill with air, as his ribs moved through them to reform. His muscles too began to reknit. The thick strands of musculature pulling back together, taut and strained, wrapping themselves around the bones. Then his skin melded together, slipping back onto his flesh and sealing up once more. The whole time the warm light flowed through him, bursting through his veins in place of the blood once lost. The Prophetess’s grace pressed against his form, bulging against it near to bursting. It was agony, it was pain beyond compare, and it was pure ecstasy.

Air rushed into Gardinal’s collapsed lungs in a torrent, forcing him to retch thick coagulated globules of blood. Panting heavily, he shook himself from the daze of that warm glow and rose. His fingers reformed and grasping his hammer and shield white knuckled. Gardinal prepared himself to face down death once more. He had to protect Her Radiance, had to stop the daemons from…

Finally taking in his surroundings, Gardinal blinked. Three or four dozen armed women surrounded what was left of their group. Looking down he saw the Prophetess still kneeling at his side, perfection among the carnage. Trying to make sense of things, Gardinal scanned the battle. Everywhere he looked, women of all shapes and sizes thrust spears and shot bolts into the spasming flesh of daemon hounds. He even spotted Vallerian rushing about, pulling arrows out of corpses. Furrowing his brow, it almost seemed a fever dream, until he spied the silver pins fastened to the women’s clothing. The Silver Skulls had come to the rescue? It must be a fever dream.

“You are a hard group to find, did you know that?” A familiar high-pitched woman’s voice, all full of dry sass, called out. Three of the larger women, two Korek and a rather burly Fereni, stepped aside to reveal the diminutive form of Tabitha striding towards them. The odd Jöln woman wore her usual Fereni nobleman’s garb, tailored to her petite frame well, and a near comically large crossbow in her arms. “Are you hurt girl? I do hate a wasted investment.” The words were cold, but Gardinal could see honest concern in Tabitha’s large eyes.

From next to him, the Prophetess grasped his arm and silently rose. She took a half step toward Tabitha, Gardinal following alongside.

“Well girl? Cat got your…” Tabitha was cut off as The Prophetess pushed past Gardinal and wrapped her arms around the Jöln. Even as small as Her Radiance was, she completely enveloped the slum lord, holding her tightly. The small woman locked eyes with Gardinal over the Prophetess’s shoulder, confusion and discomfort plain on her face.

“Thank you, Tabitha.” The Prophetess whispered just loud enough for Gardinal to hear. “I knew… I knew you were a good person.” With that, Tabitha’s face shifted from discomfort, to shock, to a slight grin, before finally recovering with her usual snarky sneer.

Pulling away, Tabitha cleared her throat and adjusted her clothes. “Well, ahem, as you can see, I did have to pull out those weapons you told me to get rid of. So perhaps you shouldn’t be too giddy.” Tabitha tried to save face, but from the look Her Radiance wore, any doubts to where the slum lord’s loyalties stood were gone. Tabitha grunted, then gave a terse head nod to Gardinal. “The quality is fantastic by the way muscles, send my regards to your brother.”

A complex mix of emotions flitted across the Prophetess’s face as she looked over the women around her, all wielding a variety of well forged weapons. “I… I think I can allow their use this time.” She eventually spoke. “Though I hold you responsible for any of the Mother’s children who are hurt by their use. Do you understand me, Tabitha?”

Tabitha grunted before responding. “You hear that, girls?” She shouted, looking out over the women around them. “You can kill the ugly things but try not to stab the people.” The various women muttered various disgruntled responses but seemed to accept. Turning her attention back to Gardinal, Tabitha continued. “I assume you have some sort of plan? Or did little Radiance here just want to go for a stroll tonight of all nights?”

“We’re getting Celeste to the temple.” Vallerian spoke, striding up next to Gardinal with a pat on his shoulder. “Nice trick back there with the shield by the way, great showmanship. You could join a travelling troupe with that.”

Gardinal rolled his eyes. “We need to get Her Radiance back to the temple. With its walls I can’t imagine a better place to hold up while we wait for the king’s forces.”

“You think the king’s going to do anything?” Tabitha snorted dismissively, then shook her head. “Well, it’s not the worst plan I’ve ever heard. We can at least keep her safe there.”

“We?” Gardinal asked.

“You think I’m leaving the lot of you alone with her after what I just saw?” Tabitha chortled and shook her head. “We’ll escort you there then get back to clearing up the streets.”

“Tabitha is that you?” Kriss called out, striding up. Gardinal wasn’t aware the boy new her. “The Red Curtains, the girls. Are they…”

“They’re safe Kriss.” Tabitha responded, cutting him off. “Most of my girls are sitting in their windows with crossbows, picking off any fool…” Tabitha eyed Her Radiance wearily for a moment before correcting herself. “…any daemons that dare enter our streets. The rest of my girls are off supporting the various pockets of resistance all over Southshore.”

“Resistance?” The Prophetess asked, concern plain in her tone. Valleresa and Arabella stepped up beside Her Radiance once more, bodyguards in embroidered silk gowns.

“Southshore is tough girl. We’re no nobles who get to hide in their towers when things go wrong.” She eyed Vallerian as she spoke, and he shot back a casual shrug. “Southshore is fighting back, and they’re fighting for you.”