Reva and the Expedition - Part III (Patron Reward) (Patreon)

[The following is a reward/commission for a patron. Thank you so much for your support!

The following is an original story featuring the fantasy setting and characters of the commissioner. The story features a woman with size-changing magic and other divine abilities; nudity; gentle; handheld/breastheld; near-vore/mouthplay.]

Long shadows stretched up the temple walls and pillars, shivering from the flame that cast them. Some paced while others stood still, but all were plagued by anxiety. The expedition had suffered through an attack by the goddess Sepentria, a battle that saw four lives lost – a fifth as well, if Rose’s comatose condition did not improve. Motionless on the temple floor, skin pale as the snow that had covered her, blood seeping through bandages; hope that their one remaining healer would survive was slipping away from the expedition, but it was kept alive by the one witch always at Rose’s side. Reva held a cold, limp hand between her own, refusing to give up on the woman that would have never given up on them.

The shelter made in that entrance to the temple was a meager relief from the snow dropping outside. Freezing winds still blew through the corridor, threatening to take away the fire Reva had lit in the middle of the space. The ruins were too unstable and icy to trek any deeper – a mess largely created by Sepentria and Reva, when they as giants trampled their way out of the underground and into the valley – which prevented them from seeking refuge any farther inside. Everyone bore some degree of injuries, except for Reva, the most lively of the crew, her energy dedicated to addressing Rose. It was miraculous how unbothered she was by the temperature, how clean her body was of wounds; since having ripped out of her clothing earlier, she donned only a spare blanket over her shoulders and belted at the waist, a loose covering that would be inexcusable in the cold – if she had not been imbued with divine powers, that which innately resisted the bitterness that crippled the others.

“...Potions,” Reva gasped, noticing Rose’s bag of supplies. The stock was only meant to be distributed based on a healers’ evaluation, but without one to make that decision, Reva made the choice herself. She went to retrieve the bag, until–

“Drop the potions, Mage.” The command pierced Reva in the middle of unlatching the satchel. Starrberger spoke as leader of the expedition: “That isn’t your call to make. Those potions are all we have left… and we are not wasting them on lost causes.”

Through the fire between her and Starrberger, Reva glared and proceeded into the bag. “Rose is our only healer,” she argued, “without her, we’re walking to our deaths – potions or not!” She pulled one such bottle out of the bag, showing it and the others inside to Starrberger and the team; “Do you think this would be enough to carry us back home? We need a doctor, Starrberger! Not just brute force and will!”

“It’s enough to continue with the expedition,” Starrberger growled. “We are not retreating – not now, not this far… I refuse to return empty-handed. I refuse to let the ones that have died already be left dead for nothin’.” He looked to the other men of the expedition, their expressions hollowed after having endured Sepentria’s wrath, their eyes replaying scenes of terror whenever they blinked. “There’s no undoing the harm that foul thing has done to us, but we still decide what reward we earn. I did not make this voyage just so others might die, and neither did they – we have a mission, dammit!”

“There will be no reward if we don’t ever make it back alive!” Reva snarled back, standing up and away from the potions. “In this weather, wounded as we are – y-you really believe to make progress? What a good joke, if it weren’t going to get us all killed!”

“I’ve done it before, with less men and half the resources. I’d have been dead on my first expedition had we been draggin’ corpses behind us, thinkin’ we would give them some hero’s burial!” Starrberger could have kept raging, but a stinging pain in his broken leg choked him into a long wince – yet even through that pain, his determination was apparent, that he would guide the others to the end of the expedition and back. He seethed, “Even now, we’re wasting precious time…!”

Reva scoffed sarcastically, “I agree! Let’s not extend Rose’s suffering any longer.” Dismissing Starrberger, she knelt back into the medical bag and dug through its supplies. She had a potion in-hand, chosen for Rose’s health, but it was dropped back with the others when she was pulled away by her shoulder. “Hey–”

“Listen to me!” Starrberger growled, twisting Reva to face him. “I will not be disob– rrk…”

The others in the expedition went stiff as they saw their leader be lifted off the temple floor – inches off the ground, grabbed by the scruff of his collar. Reva’s hand was within his beard, effortlessly holding him up with just the one arm. Everyone could sense how easy it would have been for the witch to throw their leader across the chamber, or anything worse; she could do the same to any of them, a fear Reva soon detected, chilling her more than the tundra draft. After looking into Starrberger’s eyes and hearing a strained breath, she released him, though he staggered on his feet, trembling into a temple wall for support. Reva held that hand of her’s by the wrist as she backed away, unable to speak for herself.

Starrberger, however, had plenty of questions. “Where…? From where did you get such strength…?” he asked in gasped breaths. “That size, and that magic… What became of you…?”

“A vial,” Reva answered tersely, massaging her knuckles. More than before, she shied her bare body behind her arms and tactful turns; her fingers pinched anxiously at stray hairs, threads of red and some that had turned black like ash. “I-It was in this temple. Wh-Whatever it is, it’s in me now. It’s mine.”

“Aye, I can tell,” Starrberger huffed. “So what do you have to fear? I saw that power– we all saw! You were a giant – like Sepentria! You fought her and made her flee – a goddess!” Starrberger laughed in frustration. “And you look better than all of us combined, even after all that. Do you understand? The expedition’s success is guaranteed with you and your power, Reva! No more will have to suffer under your protection!”

“Don’t make promises with my powers! I-I don’t even know how these abilities work…! If I did, I’d–” Reva winced, interrupted by a shiver of self-doubt. She glanced to the corner where Rose was laid out, wishing she could simply cast a spell and undo all her injuries – a technically possible task, if it were within Reva’s understanding. Though a capable evoker of elements, as a magic-user, Reva was less learned about restoration magic, and worried what an attempt would be like in her supercharged state. Healing was a sensitive practice, and like surgery, a small miscast could do more harm than good. “...I would heal her myself…

“But magic isn’t so clear-cut and easy!” Reva continued to argue. “You want to risk another fight with Sepentria? What if my magic fails on me? Or if she knows something I don’t?” She scanned the others of the expedition, her skin itching with memories. “I almost crushed some of you…! Is that something you really want to gamble again?!”

“Tis a better fate than being devoured by Sepentria,” Starrberger said, only slightly joking. “I’d rather die in battle than become a morsel for a wicked goddess.”

“Then why don’t you… just go ahead… and die to her yourself!” Reva did more than just grow into a shout – she grew just as much, expanding taller towards the broken ceiling of the temple, a slow surge that represented a rising anger. Her blanket-wrapping ripped and her belt snapped apart, outgrown by her unflinching form. Behind her was an even broader shape, her shadow cast wide on the cracked wall, emphasizing her intimidating picture. By growing bigger, she made the others spill away from her in skitters, taking cover behind Starrberger; he, too, was urged away by Reva’s looming presence, which soon met its limits within the confined space. The witch glared at him, “Haven’t you dragged enough adventurers to their dooms?! Must more be sacrificed for you to profit?!”

Reva’s words were effectively inspiring, but towards the wrong results. She caught her emotions too late, realizing in a gasp how she had grown subconsciously; her speech was meant to turn the aides and navigators to her side, but they were all instead pushed further away. She saw them behind Starrberger, not just physically, but loyally as well, surely trusting him more than they did the mysterious witch with unknown powers; some among them readied knives and swords, to fight back if she so crashed upon them. That image was not what Reva intended, yet that impression had been instilled in their heads, even as she deflated back to her ordinary scale.

There was silence between the cut made in the expedition. While Reva shrunk to normal-size beside Rose, Starrberger gathered his belongings and nodded at the rest to do the same. “Sepentria is licking her wounds, no doubt,” he explained, “and likely throwing a tantrum. It’s safest we move now and keep moving into daylight.” He glanced at Reva once, while reaching for the medicine bag – her motionlessness gave approval for him to take it. “We can reach the mines by nightfall; we make camp there, chart out the caves, and then we can return to Sophus. If so be it… we signal for Northview mages to create a bridge across the Divide – assuming, that is, that we won’t have a mage left to do that for us.

“What will it be, Mage?” Starrberger looked sternly at her, a stare that solidly presented his final offer. “Will you follow us into Sepentria? Or will you desert us and retreat to Sophus?”

A lone path of tracks was carved through the deep blue snow, footsteps that were concealed moments later by the falling flakes. Like a soul fading away, there was only a small flame that led the path forward, held outward in the palm of Reva’s hand; though it brought precious light to ward the blackness of night, there was nothing to see ahead of her – no landmarks or foothills, only a flat plain of snow that went on in every direction. Not even the heat did anything for her, as her enhanced skin made her immune to the sub-zero temperatures, but to march onward into darkness would have driven her insane. The situation was too dire to make such a mistake, for the journey was not one of her wild misadventures as a mercenary, but an important responsibility, carrying the life of someone else.

That soul Reva sought to preserve was hidden from the grueling weather, though no more lively than back at the ravine. Rose had remained unconscious, and so to transport her, Reva carefully used her magic to reduce the comatose healer’s scale, shrinking her beyond the amount of effect normal size-changing magic could achieve; she was only some inches tall after the spell, a doll-sized treasure that Reva could easily hold in one hand while the other was used like a torch. Cradled in her fist and wedged between her breasts, Rose was further protected by the cloak Reva wore: Rose’s own Healers of Sophus cloak, borrowed from her before being shrunk, flapping fast against the wind. Otherwise naked, Reva kept warmth under the layers with a delicate release of heat, maintaining a temperature that would keep Rose healthy – yet the odds were no less daunting, every step pressed with worry that it was all for a lost cause.

Reva was not entirely hopeless, however, and even made efforts to hurry. While bearing against a dreadful wind, she stubbornly grew herself to that gigantic height, a size that trekked through waist-height snow like shallow puddles – until her weight caved into underground snow chambers, a harsh stumble that risked Rose’s health. Only so far forward at that scale did she eventually dwindle down to normal height, glancing back at the snowy crater she had formed. She dwelled on how dangerous she was, remembering how obliviously she had people pinned under her gigantic body; blessed with divine power, Reva yet felt cursed, as though removed from the definitions of humanity.

All through the night, Reva walked on, and continued to do so when the sun rose with the slightest breath of heat. It did not feel as though they had survived the darkness, however, as the witch found herself no less confused in a void of sparkling white. Distant forests and hills were unhelpful for navigation, not without a compass to determine direction or a map to assert position. She had only south to trust would take her back to the border, but otherwise had no sense of where Northview was located, or if the path she chose was safe for travel. Every minute mattered for Rose’s sake, and so Reva hastened the trip however she could, with blazes of fire that cleared fields of thick snow, and extending her height by several feet to lengthen every stride.

The sun was directly overhead, a fogged light behind a dense coat of clouds. By then, the Divide should have been visible, yet Reva was still far from any feature. She slowed to a standstill, hit the most by hopelessness since she departed from the expedition, but before sinking too deep into despair, there was a miraculous change, tickling her chest with unexpected movements. Reva was strained into a giggle before realizing what it meant, and then threw open her cloak – “Rose! Rose, y-you’re awake! Y-You’re awake…!”

There was a definite improvement in her condition, yet Rose’s restless rustling was hardly reassuring. She did not spring to life like Reva had wished would happen, but instead stirred into consciousness, awakening to her pains and discomforts, struggling to comprehend her whereabouts. Revealed from Reva’s cleavage, Rose twitched under the sunlight and flinched against the breeze; Reva wanted badly to appreciate her health in the open, but knew best to keep the shrunken woman tucked away like she had, embraced even better with both arms hugging her breasts into a more mattress-like shape.

“R-Rose… A-Are you with me…?” Reva whispered, kneeling in the snow to concentrate on the healer. She bit her lip with concern when Rose went still; “Rose, t-talk to me… s-stay awake, please…!”

Rose’s mouth opened, but it took moments to speak: “...R…Reva…”

“Y-Yeah! It’s me! I-I’m here, Rose! You’re safe – I-I’m taking us to Northview, you’re going to get help…!”

Rose blinked flatly, squinting into the pale sky with a rousing of questions. “Th-The… expedition…”

“W-We had to–” Reva stuttered and restarted, “We had to leave them… Starrberger wouldn’t wait. I-I had to make a choice– they wanted to leave you…!” She shook her head, casting anger aside for gratitude; “Doesn’t matter now. I’m not leaving you.”

“But… Sepentria…?”

“She’s gone. For now.” Reva looked southward, where her destination supposedly was. “I-I’ll explain everything later, but for now, you need more rest. Save your strength, Rose.”

“Err… I’ll try…” Rose exhaled, nearly slipping back into slumber that instant. In her delirious state, she messily rolled over to her other side, fixing herself around the giving flesh like a proper bed. “R-Reva,” she stammered with another question, “are these… your boobs…?”

In a desert of anxiety and uncertainty, Rose’s remark brought a smile and laugh to Reva’s hardened expression. “Yes!” she exclaimed, turning red with embarrassment. It was understood only then that Rose was unaware of her shrunken scale; Reva gently stroked her with a finger, “I’ve kept you close this entire time. I hope they’ve been keeping you warm, at least…”

Rose slowly melted face-first into the cleavage, succumbing to her exhaustion – and the softness around her. “Yeah~” she cooed weakly, “warm…~”

But Rose required more than just warmth, Reva knew. Starrberger and the crew took all the supplies with them for the rest of the expedition, leaving the deserters with one canteen of water and a pack of trail rations – food too tough for Rose’s condition, and too little to keep her energy up. With potentially a whole other day of travel before reaching the Divide, Reva would have to find better sustenance.

She grew to her enormous size within a landscape of rolling slopes and small cliffs. Surrounded by that white snow, only the few landmarks of rock formations made any comparison to Reva’s height, none taller than her hips. She prowled the hills low to the ground until she saw her target: a pack of nixodere, blissfully finding their own meals by snuffling through the snow. Despite being half a mile away, the docile mammals were well within the reach of Reva’s magic, and so with a snap of her fingers, there was a dazzling strike of light – electricity that surged all at once, leaping from one nixodere to the next, all within an instant. There was a unanimous groan from the animals as they slumped lifelessly where they had stood, dead before they could feel a spark. An effective hunt that brought no pride to the witch, that she could overwhelm oblivious creatures so effortlessly that it was no hunt at all. It was more death than Reva intended, yet again underestimating her divine power and left to dwell on its depths – so did Rose, witnessing that strength in blurry glimpses, unsure what was real and what was a half-conscious dream.

A camp, if it could generously be called that, was established under a tight circle of trees which guarded them from the winds. Reva’s powers made setup effortless, as she could command snow with a wave of her hand, rip firewood right off the trees with her bare hands, and point a fire into existence; the hardest hurdle was controlling her power to avoid overdoing anything again. Though the flame made no difference to her, it was sure to be better for Rose’s condition, who was then carefully laid out nearby on top of a makeshift bed of wood – arranged by Reva’s giant form as though she were placing down a broken doll. She yearned to shrink to normal-size and be by Rose’s side more closely, but she chose to maintain her hugeness, believing it better to be bigger and more prepared; sat with her knees arched up to her chest, Reva cooked the nixodere meat while keeping a constant eye on Rose, offering a shielding hand over her body whenever she had the chance.

In the blinks where Rose was more conscious, she snuggled into the blanket of fingers with twitches of life. She stirred no further than those hazy moments, until she was lured awake by the aroma of a completed meal – a thin soup, or rather a bowl of broth stewed from nixodere meat. The scent reached her when it was presented by Reva, who had returned to her ordinary height; no less did she appear extraordinary standing over Rose, resisting the cold wearing only a coat. The image of a hero earned a weak smile, which disappeared when she coughed sorely on an attempt to lift up– “Erk! Ggah…”

“D-Don’t push yourself!” Reva ordered, perhaps too sternly – a tense reaction to watching Rose suffer. She knelt beside her and used her free arm to ease her back into laying down; “I’ll feed it to you,” she offered, “but, be warned… I’m not the best camp chef.”

One sip at a time, Reva brought the soup to Rose’s lips, patiently allowing her to drink at her slowed pace. There had been an unrealistic hope that some hot fluids would recover Rose instantly, as if by magic, but it instead proved harder and harder to get the drink down with each spoonful. After so few sips from minutes of feeding, Reva’s fingers began to shake unsteadily, afflicted with worries that her departure from the expedition had been in vain – that Rose had been doomed since the battle.

A sudden cough that choked on the soup magnified that fear. Reva gasped and used the sleeve of her coat to clean around Rose’s mouth. “No, no… T-Take it easy…”

But Rose gagged again, straining herself to speak louder. “R… Roots…” she said in between coughs. Reva lowered her ear to hear; “From… white weeds… a-and the liver… from the n-nixodere…”

“Weeds and liver…” Reva repeated with no enthusiasm. When the healer groaned into another coughing fit, she hurried to obtain that list of items, beginning first with uprooting handfuls of icy weeds that sprouted from tree trunks. In preparing a medicine for Rose’s condition, she found no places where divine magic would be more efficient – a trial in which she was human again, and the risks that came with it. Incredible power coursed through her veins, yet with the ingredients gathered, she was left meekly turning back to Rose; “Wh-What do I do with these…?”

Rose muttered and hacked a guide for Reva to follow, as if puppeting the witch’s body when she was without control over her own. A different brew was made, an unpleasant concoction that mixed poorly with itself in the bowl, but that which Rose verified as complete. Reva nervously brought the first spoonful to Rose, finding her to be weaker than she had been earlier; she tenderly lifted her head forward from the ground, coaxing her to drink. “C-C’mon… I-Is it right? D-Did I make it right…?”

After forcing the first swallow down, Rose’s face crunched into a grimace – as though she were ready to cough, but instead gasped and sighed. Tears peeked from her squinted eyes as she kept the bitter flavor down, an expression that weighed on Reva’s faith. It appeared the concoction had stung her with only more pain, until she crept a smile across her lips with a staggered giggle; “That tastes… much better.”

“Wh–...” Reva blinked, shook her head, then rolled her head skywards with a laugh. “Are you being funny? Now, of all times? You…!” She would have pushed Rose’s shoulder or kicked her boot for teasing her in such a way, but she instead met her humor with a gentle lay of her hand over her chest, which thumped with amusement that breached her ill condition. “You’re laughing! How sick are you even?!”

Once Rose’s giggling turned into coughing, Reva realized the tension, immediately kneeling closer to her side. But Rose still smiled, shifting her head and gradually relaxing her face. “I’m sorry~” she wheezed, “I’m… so thankful… f-for what you’ve done… You… truly shouldn’t have…”

“Truly?” Reva scoffed.

“We might both die… in the middle of nowhere…” Despite a despairing outlook, Rose’s smile revived. “Starrberger… wasn’t wrong, y-you know…”

“Forget him. Forget that expedition. It was a suicide mission – he knew it from the start, he–!” Reva clenched her fist, realizing she was letting her emotions distract her – she sensed as much, the magic within her boiling like her anger. “It’s us now, Rose. And we’re gonna survive this together.” She took Rose’s hands and squeezed them tightly, allowing some of her magic – that emotion – to be put to use in warming her friend. “...Unless you just made me feed you poison. Y-You didn’t, right?”

Rose laughed weakly, “No, no… It will help my recovery, barely…”

“You sure are smiley for all this bad news…” Reva shook her head, changing her crouch into a proper seat in the snow beside Rose. “...I’ve heard plenty of adventurers say they laugh at death, but you’re the first I’ve seen actually do it.”

“Mmm… I’ve had to give… a lot of bad news to people,” Rose replied, her gaze having dipped into the crackling campfire. “Maybe I’m… used to it. There was a mission, once…when I was just recruited into Sophus’ Healers… A massive alchemy fire broke out…dozens of victims…and I had a tent of patients, that couldn’t breathe well…and were burned all over. They were in such pain…and they asked if I could help. I promised them I’d save them – and I meant it – …and they were so calmed…so sure in me. But their lungs were failing…and no magic would help. It was…inevitable. No one could’ve made a difference…

“I gave them hope, though. Didn’t I…?” Rose’s smile persisted only like a stain as she looked into the canopy of jagged branches. “Or did I only delude them…? I thought even a false hope…was better than none… Now, hah…”

“C’mon, Rose, c’mon…!” Reva began to shake, sharing that worry with Rose’s arms. “Don’t talk like that. I-In fact, don’t talk at all – rest! A-And have some more of this… stuff!” She huffed and urged Rose to take another sip of the liver-and-weed brew, eventually persuading her to accept another few swallows, but there was a haunting feeling creeping over Reva’s shoulders, no matter how much she encouraged Rose to drink. It was not only a dread, but a chill – a literal cold that was dropping the temperature dramatically.

Reva exhaled a stream of visible breath, sacrificing her coat to give Rose another layer. “Wh-Why…? It’s still day…” she wondered about the cold, a poorly-timed change in the weather; Rose was shivering again, undoing so much improvement. It was a question Reva expected no answer for, but in the back of her mind was a whisper – a sixth-sense about the domain she and Rose endured in. Reva’s arms twitched into crossing over each other; “Sepentria…”

The colder air was not an ill-fated happenstance, but a specific change – a strategy from a master overseer, the machinations of a goddess. Sepentria hunted for them; she knew not where they were precisely, so Reva inferred from her divine sense, but knowing as much was unnecessary. The weather bent to Sepentria’s whims, and thus became a snowstorm that swept over her terrain, a widespread attack intended to wane the will of interlopers until they succumbed to exhaustion. Sleet and hail bombarded their shelter of trees, which themselves proved less fortified against the increasing winds; Reva stood against the elements, but she knew also that she was not Sepentria’s target. The storm was meant not for her, but for the human of the two, whose life was already flickering.

The winds howled louder with Sepentria’s laughter – or perhaps it was her voice echoing in Reva’s head. Whichever the case, the witch understood too well the peril put upon them. There was no protection from weather so fierce, not within the barren tundra, and so Reva was determined towards her only other option: to brave the storm directly and escape Sepentria’s domain. Lost as she was, there was no guarantee she might reach the Divide in time for Rose’s life, but divine magic was on her side, and so she grew into her giant shape yet again, positioned arched over her partner as she sprouted back-up into the canopies, then broke through them like a blossom. Except for what branches were in her red-and-black hair, she cleaned her bare body of debris and faced the frigid cold; she lifted the smaller Rose into her grasp, surrounding her in a clear glass of magic and kept hugged into her chest, protected with a resonating warmth. Reva glared into the path ahead, resolved that if Sepentria was to hunt them, she would make it a chase to the end of her domain.

Huge footsteps trudged through the field of snow, yet even that much power was pushed against by the sheer force of unrelenting winds. Reva pressed onward with one arm shielding her front; that hand channeled a spell to ward the gales aside, but the weather blew in from all directions, staggering the witch no matter how she defended herself. Her vision became blocked with white as a swirling fog overtook her surroundings, and the ground beneath her turned rugged and unstable, breaking under her weight unpredictably. Although these were harmless bumps to Reva no harsher than the usual conditions of traveling, she yet had to fret for Rose’s sake, that her missteps and stumbles could worsen her friend’s status.

But having gone off the known path Starrberger had charted out, lost in the snowy haze, Reva found herself marching across terrible terrain – primeval land that reflected an age before humans, frozen in time as miles of rugged, jetted rocks that had long since been weathered into an icy permanency. Reva’s enormous size had to be fitted through narrow valleys and into sheer chasms; her naked form was invulnerable to scrapes and cuts, but it was her body that did more damage to the world, her urgency driving her to power through such obstacles, as much as she could while keeping Rose clutched safely with one arm. She frequently glanced down at the glass orb against her chest, though with each check on Rose’s health, Reva felt more like she was holding an hourglass – she heard groaning and coughing, indications of how much sand was left to dwindle.

As the storm raged, another weight gradually pulled at Reva, gripping at her with a freezing touch that made her numb – almost numb enough to forget her cause, to give up and fall where she was. Consciousness nearly slipped from her, until she realized that it was not merely snow piling up on her giant body, but something living. Reva gasped as she looked down her nude self and became aware of snowy tendrils wrapping around her; snake-like strings of animated snow, summoned by Sepentria’s storm. They dragged her legs and made each stride harder than the last, and clung to her arms so they were slower to respond. They crept around every crevice of her body, spiraling towards her safekeep.

“No! Ughh!” Reva refused, and with a shout, she spawned a blaze from her mouth, hot enough to steam away some of the tendrils – an impressive feat to channel a spell with her voice as the motion. Breaking through just one layer of Sepentria’s grasp, she still had to squirm and flail to rid the rest of the snow, preventing them from capturing Rose. She thundered forward in a rush to get away, but every step was glued with new tendrils threatening to consume her – or at least her treasure, coming as close as icing the outer glass.

Reva dashed forward in a surge of speed to escape, but in her haste, a footfall found nothing to crater into. Behind a veil of fog, there was no more rugged land or snowy hills – a sheer drop-off where the continent ended, a canyon that split deep into the earth. After an enduring travel, Reva had finally found the Divide, but was then at risk of falling victim to it. She tried to halt herself, but her backstep heel could not brake on the frozen rocks, which crumbled under her sudden attempt. The land broke, a wide edge of a mountainside that chipped away by shards, then all at once, dropping Reva into a descent down a jagged wall. She twisted around and clawed at the ledge, but the ice was frictionless, causing her fingers to skid down the surface – a burning pain concentrated in the tips, persisting even after she slowed to a stop. Reva was careful with how she twinged, for one wrong move meant falling again towards that abyss; she wondered how far of a drop it could be, considering her own gigantic scale, but the depth she saw below was so immense that it disappeared into fog, a distance that humbled her hugeness entirely as though she were no giant at all. From faraway, she was a small ember clinging to a mighty wall, refusing to be blown out.

The position was perilous as Reva felt her one-handed grip sinking, for though she had stopped her fall, she yet gravitated towards that hazy abyss. A strain to pull herself up only proved more dangerous as the stones cracked and whined, a threat that the ledges could crumble under her weight at any second. Holding her breath and biting down on her shivering, Reva slowly turned her head, scanning the opposite side of the chasm, a cliffside that mirrored her own – the beginning to Sophus.

Painfully, it was impossibly out of reach, the gap too wide even for goddesses to cross. Reva shuddered to remember the long bridge of chromatic glass the expedition had to use for their voyage, a shiver she could not afford lest she begin to fall again. Stuck how she was, her only option was to cast a spell such as that, connecting the two continents. But one arm grabbed the cliffside, and the other protected Rose; the construction spell needed direction and focus, which her predicament did not allow.

Another slip deeper into the Divide prompted a desperate decision. She swallowed nervously, an essential step for the maneuver she had planned; “D-Don’t move, Rose,” she whispered, lifting her friend towards her lips, “I’ll make this fast…!”

Rose’s spirit had been in and out during the jostling ride within a giant’s possession, but her eyes were dimly open when Reva had raised her up from her chest and closer to her mouth. The words, like all other sounds, were mumbled to Rose’s ears, a vague noise that added no context, though no less would she have been able to react. Her mind drifted loose and weak, making sense of the scene as a dream – a warmth of romance that thawed her from the haunting cold, a kiss that would rescue her from that nightmare. She imagined leaning forward into that affection, meeting Reva’s lips and combining their softness with her own, sharing the taste of one another in a blissful moment. It was a love that enveloped her fully, melting her from her wounds and sickness, as though Reva had absorbed every discomfort from her weary body.

Reva carefully closed her mouth, sealing her lips tight after lowering her emptied palm. An apology rumbled in her throat, but she could not speak: she had laid Rose out on her tongue, depositing the healer into her mouth so that her hand could be freed. She hesitated to commit, her throat quivering in suspense; Reva could feel how easy it would be to swallow her whole, an instinct that had to be resisted. Yet it was also the electric taste of having Rose on her tongue that charged the witch with confidence, granting her the focus she needed to cast a spell. As the cliffside under her grip cracked apart, Reva made a sweeping motion with her hand, holding her breath tight as gravity grabbed her…

The dream ended like a lifted fog. Rose’s head turned to each side, rocking as little as it was allowed to move; her arms and legs twitched, their numbness relieved but replaced with a deep soreness. Her limbs were in casts, and so was her neck, itching at her skin but keeping her body still for recovery. For almost an hour, Rose had been awake, but the passage of time was blurrier than her memories; she only just began to comprehend her surroundings, blinking to the realization that she was in a hospital bed, but more importantly, that she had returned to Sophus.

It was a surprise to Mira when she returned to the emergency care room and saw Rose with her eyes wide open, awoken from a coma-like state with an unusually calm disposition to her surroundings. Mira immediately called in her assistant Adiu for support while she hurried to help Rose be welcomed back to consciousness; she introduced herself as a fellow doctor of the Sophus’s Healers Association, and explained that Rose had been admitted to the Northview Hospital as a patient – for the past three days. Science and magic were both utilized to keep her in a stable condition, but long-term recovery was yet a long road to follow. Rose struggled to speak, but Mira ushered her to rest quietly while she and Adiu transitioned her treatment to the next steps, adjusting and reapplying the medical equipment around her limp body.

“Reva…” It was the first coherent word Rose was able to cough, the name of her hero and the clearest image of her last waking memories. While Mira ran check-up tests on Rose, she sparsely explained the story of her arrival to the hospital: from the swirls of a snowstorm that had blown over the Divide, Northview guards saw an undying torch approaching from a mile away – a naked witch with red and black hair, carrying Rose’s unconscious form in her arms. They were retrieved on horseback and taken to emergency care, where Mira and Adiu were called in as the closest Sophus Healers, most fit to handle the urgent circumstance. But Mira had no more to say about Reva beyond that point; when Aidu strongly recommended she also be taken under their care, Reva refused and pushed the man aside when he tried to reason with her. Both doctors had assumed they could find a nude red-head in Northview easily, but neither had learned more than a rumor that she left town soon after the storm subsided. The last Mira heard of Reva was after giving her their reassurance, that Rose would recover under her and Adiu’s watch; with that much ascertained, the witch seemingly disappeared back into the fog.

Rose’s heart felt the cold temperatures of Sepentria again after hearing as much from Mira. She had hoped differently, that Reva would stay by her bedside, or at least long enough to be properly thanked – that their bond forged through Sepentria meant more than just a brief alliance in an expedition. But she recalled Reva’s history as a mercenary, a wanderer that went from one job to the next; something divine had happened to her, and thus her fate was likely meant for greater things. As Rose recovered through the day, thawed from her weariness enough to stand and gaze out her window, she tried to swallow that reality – strained to accept that end to the adventure.

There was a knock on her ajar door. Rose spun from the window with the most life returned to her yet, but her energy was misguided. Stepped into the room shyly was not who she expected: the floorboards creaked under Starrberger’s presence, his equipment clinking noisily from the otherwise quiet corridors, melted snow dripping off his jacket and beard. Rose reassessed her surprise with a mild laugh, “Sir…? Wh-When did you return?”

Starrberger hobbled into the room proper, seemingly unfit for the sterile environment with his weapons and gear. He looked more like a fellow patient, with his leg bandaged into a tight cast that staggered his speed. He cleared his throat, “Only just now,” he answered, then scoffed, “Feels like Sepentria is still on our boots, but… we made it. Those that survived.”

Rose nodded, weakly but sincerely – “They’ll all be remembered,” she said, smiling more as she waded to Starrberger, only as far as up to her bed where she could sit. “Well, welcome home, eh? Did the expedition, erm…?”

“We charted a course that expanded past the mountain ranges,” he replied professionally. “Promising mining points were located, and trail markers left behind for easier expeditions in the future. The mineral samples we retrieved will certainly entice more investors. All in all, the expedition was successful. Sophus may very well be able to strike ground and begin harvesting resources, if Sepentria stays as quiet as she has.” His warmth ended there, however, as he sighed into his next words, “It almost wasn’t the case. For a while, our journey seemed ill-destined.”

Rose chuckled, “Only for just a while?”

“...We were lost on our way back. I’m sure you, too, had endured that same storm, as we did at the farthest point of the expedition. The weather confused our navigator, and we wasted a day traveling in circles. Rations were thinning, morale was thinner. We feared the worst when we saw a giant in the fog lumbering towards us…but it wasn’t Sepentria. The witch had come back for us, waiting at the Divide. Tch…” He shook his head and stroked his sideburns. “I’m grateful she was there…but I can’t help but think she enjoyed giving us one last scare like that.”

The story Starrberger described illuminated a pleasant image in Rose’s eyes, fondly thinking of the scene as it must have played out. Emotions rose and fell within her, but she was most happy to know that the expedition crew – what remained of them – had returned safely enough. She wondered aloud why Sepentria was never seen again to defend her territory, but Starrberger had no better explanation than her own theory that the storm was her will, and that the goddess had greater priorities than chasing after expeditioners. Whatever the case, Rose was amazed and relieved at the results, content enough to know that no one else had to become a sacrifice.

But Rose had to ask about Reva, immediately wanting to know where she went after guiding the expedition across the Divide. Starrberger mumbled, “That’s a topic I meant to get to. I talked to Reva, you see, about what had happened during the mission – our disagreement, her departure, and… her payment.”

“...Payment? But I assumed…”

Starrberger shuffled into his coat pockets and retrieved a small item, even smaller in his gloved palm. Rose leaned over to admire the shining emblem – a Sophus sigil, a gem-studded treasure that represented a generous payout from the royal coffers. It was a prize awarded to the kingdom’s most worthy, given when the equivalent coin would be too burdensome for one person. Having only heard legend of such a symbol, Rose felt impressed, as though the little item was an incredible weight.

“And this is yours,” Starrberger added, suggesting the emblem closer to Rose. “I am relieved to see you’ve recovered well enough to receive this. It was my passion and fury that drove us all into those dangers, just as it was my leadership that took my first expedition into hell. For those sacrifices to have purpose, this second mission needed to be a success. But… sacrifices for sacrifices… there’s no purpose in that.

“You and the witch were critical to this success,” Starrberger asserted. “There’s no denying that, just as I can’t deny your fair share of the glory. Take this, and perhaps you can enjoy a quieter life – somewhere… warmer.”

Rose was frozen with thoughts of the future. Opportunities shined like open windows, imagining the possibilities and paths she could use that reward to fund. As Starrberger said, she wondered where she would go, where she could escape to – what locations, and with whom. Though so many choices presented themselves, Rose yet hesitated, as what she wanted most yet felt closed.

“...What of Reva?” she asked. “After you spoke to her… um, did she mention what she might use the money for?”

Starrberger wavered before replying. “She… refused the payment, actually. She was polite about it. But she didn’t say anything else. I’m sorry, I don’t know what her plans are.”

The emblem shined at Rose again from the pit of Starrberger’s hand. She considered the life she could forge with that treasure, much as she thought Reva did as well; she thought of the witch’s ways, and her attitude towards what it meant to accept the reward. It would be an eternal attachment, a link to the expedition – a reminder of the past. It truly was a heavy item, imbued with the blood of sacrifice and the grit of loyalty.

Rose softly put her hand over Starrberger’s, calmly curling his fingers closed around the emblem. Her smile was apologetic; “Thanks for everything, sir.”

The winds blew against the road she faced, beckoning her backwards like a constant influence. The frosted air pulled at Reva like Sepentria’s touch, wanting her to return, as though the magic inside her – the power she stole from the goddess – belonged in that domain. It was a swirling sensation in her center, both spiritual and physical, but ultimately outright sickening. She whined by herself, hesitating again to embark southward, wishing there was a mortal cure for her divine ailment.

Leaving Northview and treading south seemed the only solution. Though she had no specific plans for where to travel, Reva had everything she needed – which was very little, a convenience granted by her divinehood, that she required no rations or water, no rest or supplies. The magic flowing through her veins granted her incredible stamina, strength, and sensitivity – Reva had everything to journey anywhere, at least after a visit to the Northview tailor. A fresh outfit renewed her sense of self as she proceeded into a new stage of her life, ready to take the first steps away from the expedition and back to the path of a wanderer.

But before she could completely cross the bridge exiting Northview, Reva’s heightened senses heard a rush of footsteps from the other end. She peered over her shoulder and perked with interest, realizing that someone was chasing her down, calling for her to wait. “Reva!” her name was shouted through the fog, as the silhouette cleared and became the image of Rose with a bulky backpack of supplies. The healer laughed and huffed as she hurried closer, “I found you…! B-Before you could–!”

Rose yelped, gasping as she began to stumble from her backpack swaying too far to one side. She spun on her heel and fell backwards, but was stopped and reset – caught by Reva’s hand in an effortless move. Though Reva had surprised her with that fast-acting save, she was more surprised when Rose hooked her into a hug and kissed her neck, casting a spell of redness up her shocked expression.

“R-Rose! Uh, wow – what a recovery!” Reva chuckled, parting only as much that their hands could keep joined. “Th-The doctors told me you’d be able to, but I never guessed it would be so… soon! Are you okay?”

Rose heaved from her run, but her amusement was unyielding. “Hah, I’m still a bit drowsy,” she admitted, “but I’d have to get my bearings eventually. I’ll keep up! These bandages aren’t too tight~”

Reva stuttered as Rose marched on ahead of her, off the bridge and onto the snow-speckled road. She shook her head, “Wh-What is this?”

“You didn’t abandon me, and I won’t abandon you,” Rose giggled, fixing the supplies on her back as she turned towards Reva. “We’re deserters, aren’t we? I was hoping us kindred spirits could travel together for a while. Or maybe longer. I figured you’d want to leave town as soon as possible~ but I won’t let you get away so easily. I understand how you want to move on, leave the expedition behind you, but if you can keep anything from it… I hope it could be our bond.”

A new wind breezed around Reva as she saw Rose against the openness outside Northview. Her eyes were open with a different perspective, a weight off her shoulders – she had feared that the divine concoction had made her unhuman, that it was a poison deciding her destiny, but Rose was a remedy, a reaching hand willing to take her somewhere else. Why she left Rose at all was because she worried what she would think of her, as a living symbol of the tragedy they nearly died to, but that had been for naught. Inside Reva was a fire that had been reignited, a warmth she thought Sepentria’s cold had completely drained ever since her descent from the mountain, burning brighter than it ever had.

As Rose struggled again with her backpack shifting, Reva dashed behind her; she lifted not just the bag of supplies, but all of Rose, sweeping her off her feet and seated onto her shoulder. Rose squealed ticklishly, but Reva effortlessly maintained her, grinning wide as she marched onward carrying her partner with divine strength. The pair set forth on their own adventure, determined to discover all the treasures to be won in the magic of romance – a quest that started with a kiss between each other, shared as they traveled into Sophus.