“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

My eyes reopen to a deafening thud that echoes through the forest; half the trees, once standing tall, now lie severed in half.

Someone—no, multiple people emerge from the bushes and trees.

First, I notice a woman with long, dark, spiky hair. In her hands is a ginormous bow shaped like a guitar, which visibly weighs her arms down.

Then, a burly man, his light hair slicked back. He grips a pair of twin axes, and he wears a thick set of armor.

Next, a man with a sword, his hair wild and untamed; he’s completely blind.

And two masked figures, dressed in black from head to toe; they look just alike, both with blades.

“I knew it; we were being followed from Hamlin’s village.”

Jorvain grunts, standing to his feet.

I wobble to my feet, holding my gut in pain.

“You people either tell us who you are and pretend that attack wasn’t meant for us, or we fight.”

Jorvain says sternly, gripping his sword.

“I think the second one sounds more fun, but how about we do a little bit of both?”

The blind man answers, his words evoking unease.

“We’re the Os Apertum of Avaritia. And we’re gonna need your stuff, all of it.”

He says, pointing his sword at our wagon and horse.

“Can’t say I’ve heard of you, and I’m sure there’s a reason for it. “

Jorvain says with a scoff,

“But we’re the Sol Viridis, we—

“I know who you are, especially you, Alberchet. But that doesn’t matter; we’re heroes on a journey, we’ve run out of rations, it’s unfortunate, but your sacrifice won’t be in vain, we plan to—

“Look, if you wanna steal our stuff so you can slay Sloth and pretend to be real heros, just say that, but I think I speak for all of us when I say I’m not interested in the monologue.”

Jorvain says with a roll of his eyes.

“Took the words right out of my mouth.”

Dain adds.

“Then I guess this is the part where we steal your stuff.”

He says with narrowed brows.

“Confidence is key, but that seems a little delusional even for me.”

Jorvain says, a grin growing on his face.

“Not quite, your greatness.

Emrys states, raising her bow with a smirk.

“Aw, man.”

Jorvain says.

And the battle begins—

The big guy charges toward Dain, a grin of excitement on his face; you could say he’s going for someone his own size.

But Dain’s not grinning; in fact, he's got a grimace on his face.

Using both of his axes, he lunges towards him, one swing after another, the blades of his axes trailing with a blue burning aura—they slam against the hilt of Dain’s long axe, and he doesn’t budge. Instead, he steps back, making his opponent stumble forward, and then slams the end of his axe’s hilt into his back.

The man whips around, swinging again, this time with even more strength, but Dain weaves and blocks the follow-up attack, seamlessly rotating his axe to combat each attack.

The woman with the long bow approaches Emrys, rapidly strumming her guitar; a red aura begins to swirl around her arms.

“If it takes a buildup of ardor to shoot that bow of yours, I don’t plan on letting you charge up that blast.”

Emrys says with a determined glare, raising her bow; she releases her arrows.

Rapidly shooting through the air, leaving golden trails—but the girl leans in and out, spinning with the weight of her bow to avoid Emrys's projectiles.

But that doesn’t stop Emrys; she begins strumming faster—but her opponent’s already finished and releases her attack—

“Everyone look out!”

Emrys shouts, ducking low to avoid the ginormous blast released from her enemy’s bow.

We all do the same, narrowly avoiding the attack.

With her opponent huffing with exhaustion from her first attack, Emrys takes the opportunity and blitzes her, weaving and twisting on her toes while effortlessly strumming her bow; despite her opponent's aggression, she can’t keep up.

The two twins attack Maelis, who has summoned two golems, but they’re not mini like the ones on the mountain; they’re huge. They send one to one twin and take on the other one-on-one. Twirling their staff with incredible speed to block their rapid attacks.

Me? I stand still, useless as always. But I can’t take it anymore.

And as if I weren't in control of my body. My feet push off the grass, and I shoot forward—drawing my blade.

I join Maelis first, shoving past the golems—a crackling aura extrudes from my footsteps

Negative Ardor. My ardor.

From the corner of my eye, I see the golems fall and break down—but I don’t stop. Taking on the first twin, I swing my blade—causing them to jump back in an attempt to dodge—their backs slam into a tree.

Before they can recover, I sweep their leg, swinging my blade; a slash of slime flings from the blade—bounding them to the wood of the tree. The form of my sword softens.

I don’t slow—snatching the bound twin's blade, I lunge it in the direction of the other twin.

They weave to the side, and the blade slams into Maelis' staff, causing them to drop it—taking the opening, their opponent kicks them in the gut—sending them stumbling back.

But as they turn around—their jaw connects with my foot as I spin into a kick—sending them flying—I slash my sword through the air with all my might, flinging slime to keep them trapped. It melds their body to the ground.

Maelis looks up at me with furrowed brows, holding their gut in pain. And despite the ache in my chest, I keep moving.

Next thing I know, I’m charging towards Emrys's enemy, their back turned; I catch them by surprise—I swing my blade down against their shoulder—causing their knees to slam to the ground and drop their weapon as an arrow meant for them flies past me, nicking the side of my face.

They’re stuck to the ground with slime, but when I look up at Emrys, she is too, stumbling back—she falls to the floor.

I carry on, and soon I’m behind Dain’s opponent—swinging my blade—he reacts quickly, blocking my sword with one of his axes while he blocks Dain’s with the other.

“What are you doing?!”

Dain barks, his brows furrowed.

I don't answer; I can’t. I don’t even know what I’m doing or why I can’t stop!

The burly ducks, unblocking my sword with his axe—I stumble forward—accidentally slamming my blade against Dain’s helmet—sending him stumbling back with slime seeping into the gap of his helmet.

Leaving his opponent and me, we go one-on-one.

His axes clash with my blade once more, but this time I push even harder—my ardor spiking with passion—the man exclaims in pain as the slime from my sword climbs up his arm, seeping into the cracks of his armor.

He drops his weapons, flailing his arms as he desperately removes his armor.

I turn on my heel as he falls, rushing to the remaining enemy—I reach out, holding my blade to the back of his neck just as Jorvain places his to the front.

Our eyes meet, and only then do I come to my senses.

“What did you do?”

Jorvain asks, brows furrowed.

***

I pant, out of breath, wiping sweat from my forehead. I drop my sword.

I did it, I proved myself, I finally did it.

But as I look around at the others, there’s a disconnect.

The enemies are all rounded up, covered in slime, but so is half the team; the look in their eyes is nothing like what I hoped it’d be.

And it makes my heart drop.

“Dain! Dain, take your helmet off!”

Maelis shouts, rushing to him.

Dain takes off his helmet, coughing up slime as he tosses it to the ground in outrage.

“Whose side are you on?!”

He shouts, storming past them and towards me, erupting with rage.

I flinch, straightening up, clenching my fist with nerves.

“Do we look like your enemies or something?”

He barks.

“No, I—

“Who are you trying to impress so badly you’d sabotage your team, yourself? “

Emrys spits with a sharp stare.

My gaze falters.

“I didn’t mean to.”

I say, before I even believe it’s true

Because I did, I did mean to, but not like that; I thought I was being a hero.

But the way they’re all looking at me now isn’t the way you look at a hero—not admiration, pride, respect. But disappointment and disdain.

“You could’ve seriously hurt someone! “

Emrys shouts, stepping towards me, shoving her finger into my chest

I lower my head in shame.

“You did seriously hurt someone; you hurt all of us. Dain could've suffocated in his own helmet! “

Maelis exclaims, their brows furrowed.

“Say something, Jorvain!”

Dain demands.

And we all turn to him, waiting for his response.

Our eyes lock, and I can’t tell what that look on his face means, but I can’t bear to look at it any longer.

“Enough.”

Jorvain says sternly.

‘What?”

Dain says in disbelief.

“I said enough, Dain. Now’s not the time; don’t make me say it again. See what the enemies were carrying with them, and let’s set up camp for the night.”

Jorvain snaps, putting his sword back on his back.

For a moment there’s silence.

“Yes, sir.”

Dain responds coldly, turning away.

The others join him, and I stand still, looking down at my shaky hands.

End.