Sigurd flung the door open the moment the knights were in the next house, Vel close behind him as he charged out to the boyish knight holding on to two horses. He looked more like stablehand than a knight, enough that Vel felt terrible when Sigurd punched him across the jaw.

  At least he didn’t use the dagger, she thought.

  “Horses!” the hunter said, pointing.

  Vel yanked the lead for one horse out of the boy’s hands, the poor soul screaming something incoherent, loud enough that the knights in the house were tripping over themselves to exit as fast as they could. Amalia grabbed the second lead, the one the boy dropped, and while Vel got mounted, Sigurd pulled that lead from Amalia.

  The ex-priestess looked offended when Sigurd swung up onto the horse, and less so when the hunter offered her a hand and pulled her up behind him. Then he spurred the mount forward, and Vel, hesitating, did the same.

  One hand on the reins and the other on the horn of the saddle, Vel tried to follow after the hunter, though she didn’t ride anywhere near as fast. Fast enough, at least, that when a knight swung a sword at her, it missed. Monumentally.

  “Sigurd!” she called, and the hunter turned, looking past Amalia and to Vel. His lips moved, but Vel didn’t hear a word. He halted his horse, allowing Vel to catch up. Pulling on the reins, her mount responded just as quickly. “I don’t know how to ride that fast,” she said.

  “I do,” Amalia responded, slipping off Sigurd’s horse. “Scoot back.” She took the reins from Vel, who slipped from the stirrups and slid as far back as the saddle would allow. After Amalia was mounted, Vel put her arms around her waist, and . . .

  “You’re so small,” she couldn’t help but say.

  “Yeah, so . . . don’t hold on too tight?” she asked.

  “But I’ll fall.”

  “We don’t have time for this, you two, figure it out as we go,” Sigurd said, eyes trained on the knights behind them.

  “Velmira, just lean with me, and grip the sides of the horse with your thighs,” Amalia said, and Vel nodded, leaning forward with the other woman as she spurred the mount into a gallop. Sigurd, doing the same, passed them and took the lead. He guided them around the streets, which were far busier in the early morning than in the dead of night.

  As they turned, Vel leaned into Amalia, leaning into the turn with her, and found that, despite her thighs growing sore, keeping balance on the galloping horse was far easier than she expected it to be. It helped that Amalia was sturdy on the horse, even if she was small.

  They rounded a second corner, coming out to a street that looked to have more businesses than anything else. That meant more people too. Halted by a slow moving cart and another coming from the other direction, Vel swore that she heard Sigurd curse. The hunter, in his urgency, veered towards the walkway on the edge of the street, a man pushing a woman out of the way and another shouting obscenities at the hunter and Amalia, the ex-priestess following right after him.

  “He’s so reckless,” Amalia huffed.

  “Yeah,” Vel agreed. Mostly. There were moments she’d seen Sigurd act with a great deal of caution.

  “I respect it,” Amalia added.

  Huh, not what Vel was expecting.

  As they raced around another corner, the gates came into view, along with the plethora of knights guarding it. Sigurd shouted at his mount, kicking its sides repeatedly as he sped forward.

  “Hold tight,” Amalia warned, leaning forward further and kicking the horse’s sides multiple times. The brown animal’s pace really picked up, and Vel was tempted to close her eyes like she had the first time she was on one of these things, but out of fear of falling off, she didn’t.

  No, I won’t fall! she told herself, determined. She stiffened her legs, clutching the animal tightly.

  [Tough Hide level 49]

  Looking up at the knights, Vel saw them mostly looking confused. Right, they didn’t know it was her, hair covered and . . . One was pointing at her. That lasted so long. The knights, all of them scrambling, rushed to close the gates. A spike of anxiety stabbed at Vel’s heart, and she tightened her grip on Amalia. Fortunately, the woman didn’t seem bothered.

  “Come on! Hiyaw!” Amalia shouted, kicking the horse more. The beast responded, picking up the pace until they were right on Sigurd’s tail.

  “Faster!” a knight shouted from the gates, the space between the large wooden doors growing smaller and smaller with each moment. They were still so far.

  We’re not going to make it, Vel realized. Hesitantly, she raised a hand, palm facing towards the knights. Gripping the horse with her legs as tight as she could, she shot a [fireball] towards the gates.

  [Fireball level 45]

  The fire flew true, slapping right above the head of a knight and onto the gate. It was enough to startle that knight and two others on either side of him, giving them pause. Firing a second [fireball], Vel aimed for the same spot. It was off, but a third slammed into the spot between them, and the flames finally took to the wood, starting to eat at it. The knights patted at the flames, and while they were successful, Vel, Sigurd, and Amalia were now much closer to the slim opening left between the two large wooden doors.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  As they neared, their passing no longer impossible, but now inevitable, a few of the knights drew their swords while one shot a crossbolt at them. The bolt whizzed by behind Vel. She leaned forward just a little more, nervous about the next one actually hitting its mark, but as Amalia elbowed her, she backed off a bit.

  Sigurd yanked his steed off to the side, narrowly missing a sword that flung out towards his mount’s knees. Amalia was already making a much wider arc, and as she did, Vel looked towards the knights with crossbows. Their weapons moved, trained on them, and Vel had a sinking feeling, one she reacted to.

  Holding her hand up, flames burst from it, one for each knight with a crossbow.

  [Fireball level 46]

  [Fireball level 47]

  The first two flinched out of the way, but the third was struck in the chest by the flames, his clothes igniting. He dropped the crossbow, and just as Vel and Amalia slipped out the gates, she saw the bolt fly from the dropped weapon, nailing a swordsman in the knee.

  Unable to help it, Vel looked over her shoulder, the gates obscuring most of the scene, and furrowed her brow. They’d won, now racing down the path out of town to travel further west, but she didn’t feel like they’d won. No, she felt guilty. When the screams of a man echoed through the air, and a burning, flailing soldier danced into view, Vel’s eyes widened. She snapped her head forward, then curled her fingers into fists, grappling Amalia’s dress.

  Did I kill him? she thought, shuddering. Just as they rounded the bend, she glanced back. The burning knight was now rolling across the ground, and many men were patting out the flames. They were succeeding.

  “Thank the gods,” she muttered habitually. He would live, most likely. If nothing else, she convinced herself of it just to keep going. She had to.

  “Are you okay?” Amalia asked, her voice barely audible above the wind, and now as the rain fell. Rain. Vel didn’t know what good omen this was, if only to save one man’s life, but she would take it.

  Not an omen of the gods, she thought, and for a moment, even considered if there was something else out there watching over her. Her class had to come from somewhere, didn’t it? Leaning her face into Amalia’s yellow hair, Vel nodded.

  “That was a good thing you did,” Amalia said, Vel cringing at the compliment. “It distracted the knights enough to let us go.”

  “I suppose,” she said, voice small. After a long moment, Vel lifted her head, looking forward to the winding road, shielded by towering trees of green. “Amalia,” she started, hesitating, “Have you killed anyone before?”

  “No,” Amalia answered, and glanced back at Vel. “Are you worried you killed that man back there?”

  “Yes.”

  The ex-priestess stared ahead of them for a long while, long enough for Vel to realize just how sore her behind was quickly becoming. Her words came as a distraction from the pain, but didn’t bear the relief Vel hoped for, “It’s between you and them. If I were in your shoes, I probably wouldn’t bat an eye at doing what needs to be done. Does that make me a killer?”

  “No,” Vel shook her head. “I suppose not. I just . . . can’t help but think about them━they have families, don’t they?”

  “You have a family,” Amalia said.

  “No, I don’t have━”

  “Aren’t you chasing someone you love?”

  Vel paused. Yes, she did have a family, and damnit, she intended to build it further. The thought of building a family with Edard hit her so fast that her very bones froze. A small smile began to spread on her lips, and she allowed herself to fantasize, just as she often had before. This time, however, of something grander.

  “I want to build a life with him; build a family,” Vel said, and looked up towards the gray sky. Droplets whizzed by as they raced forward, splashing against her face and soaking her clothes. She imagined living under blue skies, always blue, with a lush green landscape and a humble home. Nothing grand━she didn’t care for it. She didn’t need it. She just needed Edard. Of course, she also wanted to travel the world with him, and see grand, far off places and fairy forges.

  “Edard told me that I’ve been the same [sacrifice], just reincarnated over and over,” Vel said. “If that’s true, then he’s already headed toward my past life’s family in Ymril.”

  “There is some truth to that,” Amalia said.

  “Really?”

  “I overheard things working in your temple, particularly when the high priest arrived. The conversations he had . . . Velmira, he spoke of you like you were the enemy, not like you were the one thing that was supposed to bring the blessings the church promises,” Amalia explained. “I’ll need to tell you more when we get a moment.”

  Sigurd, just ahead of them, slowed, and as he did, Amalia pulled up beside him. “Do you two have the stamina to ride all day and night?” he asked.

  “I do,” Amalia answered.

  Vel, on the other hand, was less sure. “Maybe?”

  “Try sleeping upright, then. Amalia, let me know if you need to trade,” Sigurd said.

  The ex-priestess nodded, and Sigurd spurred forward, shouting back at them as Amalia followed after. “We will take a break once we’re sufficiently far from the city!”

  “I think that’s the first time he hasn’t glared at me,” Amalia said.

  “He didn’t glare at you when he peeked while you were changing.”

  Amalia gasped. “He peeked!”

  “Well, not on purpose, but yes,” Vel said.

  “I suppose I did change out in the open . . . It felt good to finally be free of those robes though.”

  “How did you become a priestess?” Vel asked.

  Amalia released an exasperated sigh, her whole form moving with it. Vel was impressed. The woman could support the both of them, solid as stone, yet not appear as rigid as she’d expect when riding a galloping horse. That said, when Sigurd slowed his to a trot, so did Amalia. That made it much easier to hear the shorter woman’s voice. “I come from a noble family, so one of us had to become a priest or priestess. I did it for the sake of my younger siblings, but . . . I wish I hadn’t.”

  “What did you want to do instead?”

  “Sing. Well, sort of. It’s complicated.”

  “How is singing complicated?” Vel asked.

  “Velmira,” Sigurd said, looking back at them. “When someone says ‘it’s complicated’, usually means they don’t want to talk about it.”

  Vel frowned. “I may have been raised in the temple, but I’m not socially stunted,” she argued.

  “I can talk about it,” Amalia said, and Vel got the sense it was just to spite the hunter, particularly after the ex-priestess’ resounding “Humph!” Amalia, leaning back a little, Vel forced to do the same, talked just a little quieter, as if she intended her story just for Vel, “My class is [Silver Singer]. It’s primarily magic based, but I’ve not figured out how to properly perform my spells. The last time I sang, I shattered a man’s hand.”

  “Oh,” Vel blinked. That is complicated, she thought. “So you joined the church then?”

  “What else was I to do? Might as well sacrifice myself to save my brother and sister from the stress. Plus, it's much easier to escape arranged marriages as a priestess anyways.”

  “Will your brother and sister have to contribute now that you’ve defected?”

  “I don’t know . . .” Amalia said, barely audible.

  “Let’s take a short break here, water the horses and give them rest. We’ll continue on like this through the day and night to reach Breddek’s port. Loverboy in the morning.”

  A smile came to Vel’s lips, a flutter dancing in her chest at the prospect of seeing Edard just the next morning. So close, she thought, looking towards the road in front of them. It wound, descending at a gradual decline, and at the end of that decline, she imagined, would be Edard and a vast blue expanse beyond them.