Time slowed to a crawl as Gabrielle stared up to the ceiling of her new room. She had very soon lost interest in all the amenities around in this room, getting rid of the heavy and bothersome covers to leave only one (the softest) on top of her, ignoring the bookshelves and the veil around the king sized bed… the cute, soft feathers inside of her cushion did entertain her for a bit but, after playing around and tossing the things up and down for a bit, she found herself just thinking.

  This whole situation felt so familiar to her. Reminiscent of a time that she should not be thinking about while walking in the Fog… but she simply couldn’t stop the memories from invading her.

  When she was completely alone and directionless, walking through the wilds like some sort of animal until She found her.

  Esperanza was so young back then, so small and full of ambition. The sparkle in her eyes was so bright back then…

  … unlike the last time she saw her.

  Gabi sat up in a rush, feeling the palpitations return. She clung to her own shoulders, sinking her nails on her screaming skin, breathing deeply as she tried her best to push back those memories.

  Don’t think of it. Don’t do it. Don’t think of it. Think of anything but it.

  But that only seemed to make matters worse. She could see it, clear as day in her mind’s eye: a charred body, skin turned to coal, blood turned to mist, the screams of pain and… what was worse…

  The way she was staring…

  Winds blew powerfully, forcing the one window to her right to blast open. And she could see her in the distance, atop of a building: the burnt, tainted Saint, riding a famelic horse and carrying a black banner that matched her black armour. She was so far away, and yet Gabrielle could swear she could see the figure, this bizarre caricature of her Esperanza, smile at her.

  The Witch’s breath picked up, it became fast and erratic, hard to catch. Her nails scratched her bloodstained skin over and over, trying to pull herself away from these thoughts before the rest of the horde manifested itself.

  When the doors of the room opened, Gabrielle couldn’t help but yelp and jump in the bed.

  Lucrece looked at her, worried, while she walked into the room. The woman carried a big cloth sack on her shoulder, its contents jingled as she approached the nervous swordswoman.

  “Are you okay Gabi?” She asked, tilting her head to the side before walking over to the window. “When did you open this? You’ll catch a cold.”

  “Wait! There’s a–”

  Watching outside the window, Gabrielle saw nothing on the buildings… had she just dreamed it?

  Lucrece blinked a few times, before closing the window and the blinds, going back to the sack and pulling out a few candle holders to set around the room, lighting them up one by one.

  “So, good news! This place has a bath. Bad news? The bastards took all the coal, so we won’t have hot water.” Lucrece sighed softly. “I guess we can’t be choosers right now. I–”

  “I want to leave.” The Witch spoke up all of a sudden. “Now.”

  “What? But, Gabi—”

  “I can feel myself weakening, memories creeping on me.” The redheaded girl kept talking, fast and nervous, her usual calm completely lost. “If we don’t move, we’ll be trapped in here. And– And…! C-Count to ten… count to ten…!”

  Watching intently, the Lancer saw the new wounds on the girl’s arms, and her clear distress. She was struggling to breathe, her thoughts were scrambled, she was terrified. Having seen this before, the blonde offered her hand out to the girl and said.

  “Gabi. Take my hand. Squeeze it.”

  She didn’t insist on it, just made the offering once and let Gabrielle make the choice. At first she just stared at that gauntleted hand, before finally reaching to take it with both of hers and squeeze it tightly. Lucrece tried not to wince, even though the squeeze was quite hard.

  “Good…” The taller woman smiled at her. “Now, I want you to close your mouth.”

  Confused, but too scared to question it, the girl agreed and closed her mouth, breathing rapidly with her nose. Things got a little dizzy…

  “You are doing great…” The blonde nodded slowly “Now, try to breathe deeper. Make it slower. Like me.”

  Lucrece breathed slowly, deeply, getting the air in and out through her nose, and Gabrielle soon joined her. Eventually, her body stopped shaking.

  “Alright, good… tell me, what are you feeling?” The Lancer tilted her head.

  “My head is… no longer pounding… but it still hurts, and I feel very tired.” The Witch blinked a few times. “How did you do that…?”

  “My brother, remember that I told you that I had many? One of them used to get like this too… and… this is a secret, alright?” Lucrece raised a finger, still holding the girl’s hands. “A Witch taught me.”

  The swordswoman opened her eyes wide as plates, gasping loudly.

  “Really?”

  “Yes.” Lucrece smirked smugly. It was only a half lie! People did call that old lady a witch, but she never had proof of it anyways. Not that it mattered. “She taught me how to calm people when they feel like this. Called it ‘Headology’ or something. It doesn’t always do the trick but, sometimes it works like a charm!”

  “Baraqiel just used to hug me when this happened, but…” Gabrielle shifted in place.

  “Yeah yeah, I get it, I won’t do stuff like that all of a sudden, I promise”

  “Thank you.”

  “Now… you can let go of me if you want, by the way.”

  “Oh.”

  Gabi looked at that hand and slowly let go of it. Lucrece sighed in relief, that woman had a grasp like a pair of pincers.

  “Now! I will get the bath ready.” Lulu closed her eye. “Now that I think about it, maybe we can break down a few chairs and turn on the furnaces with that. Do you want the first turn or can I take it?”

  Gabrielle started shifting again.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Actually…” The redhead ventured. “Can we…?”

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  “Eh?”

  —---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  The manor’s bath was very inspired by the designs of the ancient Great Empire: huge, made with marble and stone, with a wide tub and several statues on the sides decorating it. It was, honestly, an opulent mess and an ode to the excess of the rich. Steam was rising from the hot water as the flames of an underground furnace raised the temperature to a comfortable, barely scalding level.

  Lucrece sighed softly, walking into the bathroom with her towel hanging from her hips. It felt weird to be naked in front of someone else, even if she was another woman, but at least she had shaved relatively recently so, things should be fine, right? She looked at the other girl, who had already sat down on the hot tub, and tried to smile a little bit despite her own anxiety.

  “Is it too hot?” She asked.

  “A little.” Gabrielle responded, red in the face. “But I will be fine.”

  The water around the girl was stained with blood and mud, but it’s not like Lucrece was exactly clean either, so she decided to simply splash the filth away before sitting besides her companion, frowning a little bit.

  “This isn’t hot at all, this is barely hot enough!” The blonde woman cackled. “You’re a baby, Gabi.”

  “I am not. It really is hot.” Gabrielle actually pouted at that.

  “Sure thing, sure thing…” Lucrece grinned, before taking a bar of soap to start gently scrubbing herself.

  Staring intently, the shorter girl decides to imitate her companion there. Inch by inch, scrub scrub scrub, all the grime and filth dissolved and flowed away into the water. Then came the hair, and this is where the redhead took special care of things, slowly and carefully cleaning each lock with practiced, gentle motions.

  Lucrece took notice of this. She had seen that the only part of the witch that seemed relatively clean and well taken care of was her red hair… She looked at her own hair and sighed. She couldn’t really use much water on it, or the dye would fade.

  “Do you use your hair in your magic or something?” The Lancer ventured.

  “No.” The Witch said without even looking, still focused on her hair.

  “Huh. I heard that a Witch’s red hair was magical or something.” Lucrece grinned a bit.

  “My Instructor has black hair, and she’s far more magical than I am.”

  Soon enough Gabrielle finished cleaning her hair and simply relaxed into the water, blowing a few bubbles. Moved by curiosity, the taller girl kept watching her companion attentively. The girl’s body was covered in many scars, scratches, stabbings and bites from old times… then, she looked at her own figure and sighed. Scars, everywhere; maybe not as many as that girl over there, but still, she had been kicked and punched by this world too.

  “Lulu.” Suddenly, the redhead spoke again. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Only if I get to ask too.” The Lancer finally relaxed, sinking a little more in the water. “And you know the usual rules.”

  “So I still can’t ask about your eye?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s only adjacent to it, I promise.”

  “...Fine.”

  Gabi celebrated in silence before asking:

  “Why don’t you wear an eyepatch? Doesn’t the cold hurt in your socket?”

  Now that took the taller girl by surprise, but in a good way. She cackled loudly for a good minute or so before shaking her head slowly.

  “Why would I wear an eyepatch?” She said, grinning and shaking her head. “For the cold? I’m used to it by now. For the sake of others? I care not if they find it gnarly. For myself? I ain’t ashamed of it. I’m a survivor, people better know I will go down kicking and screaming when they try pushing me to the Hells!”

  Gabrielle turned to look Lucrece in the eye, intently, quietly. Now this was uncanny, the feeling that someone actually understood her feelings. She was impressed, her blue eyes shining bright with admiration.

  “The same reason I don’t hide my hair anymore.” The Witch explained. “I like it, and I don’t care what people think of it anymore.”

  Lucrece wasn’t sure she could say she ‘liked’ the scar on her face, or the weird feeling when the cold wind hit her in the empty socket. She could, however, see how the girl could see similarities between them… and it made her smile a little bit.

  “Screw the world, Gabi. They don’t deserve our consideration.” The Lancer declared with a wide grin. “It’s everyone for themselves, here.”

  “You say that, but you have been taking care of me since we met.” The swordwoman pointed out.

  “Are you teasing me, Gabrielle? Do you dare?” Lucrece grinned a bit.

  “No. I’m stating the facts.” Gabrielle looked away again. Her smallest of smiles was on display.

  “Well… we take care of some others!”

  “I am.. not good at taking care of others.” Letting out a little sigh, the redhead sank a little deeper in the water and let it cover her mouth.

  “... You gotta tell me what’s bothering you so much when we get out of this Fog, Gabi. It seems bad.” Lucrece sighed.

  “Why do you care so much, Lucrece?” The Witch looked up again. “Is it because you’re afraid of me?”

  “Nay. Actually,.I don’t think I’m even afraid of you anymore.” The Lancer smirked.

  “Then why? What do you expect to win? What profit are you chasing?”

  There, the taller woman stopped to think for a moment, looking at her reflection in the water. What profit indeed? She knew she would have to let go of this girl when they reached the port, and she didn’t really want any favors right now! So, why did she care?

  “...You remind me of someone.” She decided to be sincere.

  “Of someone? You mean the other Witch you met?” Gabrielle tilted her head to the side.

  “Nay… my brother, Cluade.” Lucrece’s smile turned a little bitter. “He was a little like you, really.”

  The shorter woman didn’t know what she was expecting, but it wasn’t that. A brother… The girl stared at her companion for a bit, both blue eyes trying to find the hints of a lie in the taller lady, and finding nothing. This made her heart stir a little in her chest, warmth raising to her cheeks. Tenderness… like Baraqiel and Esperanza.

  “I can take care of myself.” She said, quickly shaking those comparisons off her head. “But… thank you.”

  “It’s no problem, really.” Lucrece grinned and slowly got up. “Now, we’ve been soaking for long enough. Let’s go eat and then sleep. I’ll take the first guard this time.”

  “You won’t try to stay awake all night like I did, right?” Gabi narrowed her eyes.

  “Girl. Please. I like you, but not that much.” The blonde didn’t want to admit it, but the idea did pass through her mind. “Now, let’s go steal clothes.”

  “...Why?”

  “What, are you telling me you wouldn’t like to wear one of those fancy dresses? This place’s wardrobe is full!”

  “...”

  Gabrielle had to admit, the idea was alluring! And whatever could keep her from thinking too much was acceptable. So, she nodded her head and carefully stood up.

  “Alright, but only one dress.”

  “Yes! This will be fun.” Lucrece walked out of the bath with a huge grin on her lips. Once again, indulging a little bit in the job could be good for the soul.

  —---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Night time had arrived to Forsia. The streets were so dark it was impossible to traverse them, but neither of the women really cared. They were comfortable in the house they had commandeered, gorging themselves with bread, cheese and curated meat, drinking down the wine reserves that the richest family in town had decided to abandon on their rush out of the city.

  Drunk and full of food, both women had raided the wardrobe and, between loud giggles and a few little fights, they had tried on every piece they could get their hands on, modelling them in front of a tall, full body mirror. Lucrece had settled by a nice, stylish dandy outfit, blue with golden frills everywhere! There was even a dusty wig to precariously wear on her head.

  Gabrielle was staring at herself in a green, long dress, chuckling softly as she turned around a little bit. She liked it, she really liked it! It was nice, flowing and soft… but then, she noticed how it also left the scars on her shoulders and legs exposed. The juxtaposition was a little jarring…

  “Saints, I must look ridiculous.” She chuckled drunkenly. “Why nothing here has pockets!?”

  “Nonsense! You’re fine.” The taller woman gave her approval with a thumbs up. “Stop whining! Fancy clothes don’t have pockets!”

  “I don’t whine! I don’t winge!” The short redhead pouted. “I just… don’t know if I look good! And they should have pockets! All of the pockets!”

  “You look good, woman. You just gotta learn how to wear it!” Lucrece wobbled over to Gabrielle to look at the mirror as well.

  “I’m wearing it though! Wait, is this backwards?”

  “Not what I meant! Putain, woman you’re daft!” The Lancer chuckled. “I meant like, you gotta be confident!”

  “Confident?”

  “Yeah! You look good, own it!”

  “It’s easy for you to say it, you look good in the one you picked.” Gabrielle’s pout only got heavier.

  “Bitch I look good in everything.” Lucrece chuckled, striking a pose for the mirror.

  Gabi mimicked her. They stood still for a moment before both chuckled loudly.

  “Hey, hey hey! Can I wear your hat?” Suddenly, and emboldened by her drunken stupor, the Witch reached for that beautiful hat.

  “Pffft! No? It’s mine!” The Lancer leaned backwards, batting the hand away. “Get your own!”

  “Pleeeease? Come on! The outfit wont work without it!”

  “What outfit? What??”

  “I’ll tell you if you gimme the hat!”

  “Fine! Damn woman you’re stubborn!”

  With a big smile, or at least a bigger smile than she’d get sober, Gabrielle took the hat and jumped into the wardrobe, struggling to put new clothes on. Soon enough, she’d walk outside with a pair of pants and a bright red jacket, wearing the big feathered hat and performing a rather exaggerated curtsy.

  “I’m Gabrielle, Knight of the Red!”

  Now that got Lucrece to grin. Drunk or not, this was kind of adorable to her.

  “What, are you an admirer of that legend too?”

  “You know this one, Lulu?”

  “It was pretty popular back in Normandia.” The taller woman chuckled. “Not half bad, girl. Not half bad.”

  “I was hoping to tell you about it tonight…”

  Gabi looked down with a little pout. Lucrece cursed herself for being so weak and nodded.

  “Go ahead, go ahead. The stage is yours…”

  With an excited gasp, the shorter girl cleared her throat and got ready. She didn’t remember the exact words… but she would never forget her favorite tale.

  Deep down, she thought, she was still the same person… and this brought her a strange comfort.