It's Almost Over

John didn’t wake up in quite the same position he’d fallen asleep, but he was still much closer to Moira than he would have dared to even consider a few days ago. His arms were empty, but she still had one of hers loosely draped over him. It took John a second to realize that the ‘pillows’ directly in front of his face were not something he should nestle back into, inviting as they seemed. Who knew ankylosauruses could look so soft and warm?

“Are you awake?” Moira asked. Her voice was soft and reassuring in its tone.

“No,” John answered, closing his eyes and settling back down. “I won’t be awake for another ten or fifteen minutes.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Moira sighed. “Because I’ve just received word that my father will arrive within the next five.”

“I’m awake!” John sat bolt upright and scooted back a bit to increase the distance between him and Lord Brighton’s precious daughter. Said daughter quietly laughed to herself. Somehow she made even a gentle giggle sound graceful. Realizing the ruse, John grimaced and slumped his shoulders. “Very funny. Give me a heart attack, why don’t you?”

“I’d hope you’re made of sterner stuff than that,” Moira replied. Separated from John, she sat up on the opposite side of the tent, next to her shield. She reached into it. “Breakfast?”

“Please.” John gratefully accepted her offer of what their meals had become: a protein bar, a bottle of water, and a napkin. Apple, this time. It was fine.

They gave each other a little privacy to take care of themselves afterwards. There wasn’t much for John to do but wipe himself down with the Everclean Towel. It seemed to do well enough, but he didn’t feel all that clean, and there was another worry, besides.

“Do I stink?” John asked while they broke down the tent together. He couldn’t smell anything, but he was well aware of nose-blindness.

“No more than most boys,” Moira said.

“Ouch.” John clutched his chest for the imaginary pain. “On behalf of men everywhere.”

“Am I wrong?” she shot back.

“Nope.” John resumed folding up the tent’s canvas. “You’re lucky you’ve never had to endure a trip to the boys’ locker room.”

“A fact for which I am forever grateful.” Moira nodded with a slight grimace on her face. “And that’s about as much discussion of boy-stink I can stomach for one day, thank you.”

“You won’t see me pressing the issue. I’m just glad I’m not going to have to explain all this in front of your father while reeking to high heaven.”

“John.” Moira set down the tent struts and turned to face him with a polite smile. Polite, save for the aura of sheer malice hiding behind it. “Please stop.”

“Yes, ma’am”

John judged it to be a bit past noon when the sound of conflict ahead reached their ears. It had been another long few hours of walking in silence, so it was hard to miss the distant clangs, grunts, and thuds of combat. Moira barely cast a glance towards John before reaching for her hammer and rushing off at what was, to her, a brisk pace. John had to sprint to keep up.

A loud impact and the telltale dying yelp of a Gnoll preceded a body careening towards the pair from out of the darkness beyond. It was close enough to nearly knock John off balance and fast enough that, when he turned back to watch it go, it didn’t even land before vanishing into the distance. He swore under his breath, thankful that whatever had done that wasn’t on the Gnolls’ side. A feminine roar followed, drawing John’s attention back forward. Moira had shot ahead of him in the time it took him to regain his speed.

“Aeternum vigilans!” she called out. Her voice had the bark of a commander to it, but the joy behind it was impossible to miss. At that, she held her hammer aloft, and it glowed with her signature golden brilliance. The fighting continued, but the markedly human shouting took on a victorious lilt as the knights beyond rejoiced at the return of their Warden and returned her cry. John caught up just in time for Moira’s light to illuminate a familiar face as she put down the last Gnoll with a mighty swing of her axe. It was cloven clean in two, from shoulder to waist, spraying blood and who knows what else upon its killer.

It was the first time John had seen Erica in actual combat. The runes tattooed all over her body thrummed with blue light, and her face was locked into the visage of a predator. Bathed in the vivid red of fresh viscera, the aura she radiated gave John pause.

“Erica!” Moira called out again, softer this time. Her hammer’s sunlike gleam dimmed to a gentle glow.

Erica’s eyes retained their ferocity when they shot over to Moira. She was still on guard and scanning her surroundings for any remaining threats as the Warden approached. John could even see Erica’s muscles twitch and grip tighten in the instant Moira came into view, but it all fell away when recognition brought clarity to her eyes.

“Moira!” Erica dropped her axe, which quickly dissipated into a swirl of black smoke, and wrapped Moira in a bear hug so tight that John could hear the breath being squeezed out of her lungs. The rest of the assembled knights, five in all, fell into an awkward kneel while their compatriot lifted their lady clear off the ground. Erica set Moira back down abruptly before finally letting go with a firm clap on the back. John was surprised to see that her expression was not one of concern or relief, but of conflicted anger and hurt. Something about her eyes stayed hard and cold as ice. From his angle, John couldn’t see how Moira reacted. He was just grateful not to be the subject of whatever ire their friend bore.

“Decorum, Erica,” said a voice of smooth gravel. A gauntleted hand came to grasp her shoulder from behind and Christopher stepped forward. Erica’s jaw tightened, but John saw the sharpness in her eyes dull after a brief glint of rebellion. The older knight patted her shoulder once before turning to Moira and snapping to attention. “Lady Warden, it is an honor and a relief to see you well.”

“Thank you, Knight Caellaigh.” Moira showed no signs of having just suffered a rib-cracking hug, easily stepping into her role as a commander. Still, there was a hint of softness in her voice when she turned to Erica. “And you as well, Dame Carpenter.”

Erica didn’t speak in response. She silently nodded, then genuflected in an unbefittingly stiff manner before stepping back. She stood aside and watched as Moira addressed the rest of her knights.

“My gratitude to you all,” she said. “Knight Jameson, Dame Weiller, Dame Sellers, Knight Lee. Please, rise.”

The rest of the knights stood and swiftly encircled their Warden in a protective barrier, pelting her with reverent platitudes and questions both. Only Christopher paid John any mind, turning to offer him a warm smile and a nod before joining his fellows. They ushered her away, leaving John and Erica behind.

“Erica, I-” John said, or began to, at least. He was interrupted by his mentor’s swift approach, and she looked no happier than she had earlier. He recognized the look, the rising arm, and how her weight shifted, but, for all his improved agility, John was helpless to avoid the blur of motion that was Erica’s fist on a crash course with his face.

-17hp

John saw stars while his body performed a complete three-sixty twist before crumpling to the ground. He could barely catch himself before his head collided with the cold stone below, vision and balance swimming against opposite tides. He lay on the ground, nursing his bruised jaw, painfully working it to make sure she hadn’t knocked anything out of place.

“Yeah,” he groaned, “I deserved that.”

“Damn right you did,” she said, standing imperiously over him. Moira wasn’t the only one who could crush with her mere presence.

“But you held back,” John said. He considered the airborne Gnoll from a moment ago and wondered how he’d fair if that was him.

“Damn right I did,” Erica said. She bent down and grabbed John by the arm to hoist him back onto his feet and directly into a bone-crushing hug. Being nearly his height, she rested her head on his shoulder in a way that made the hug feel surprisingly intimate. Additionally, John was keenly aware of her prodigious chest squashing against his. He did his best to hug her back, given the circumstances.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked out, patting her back with what little strength he could muster. Erica seemed to take the cue and let him go.

“You had me worried, dude,” she said. “One moment I’m watching Moira shout you into the dirt, and the next you’re both gone. What happened?”

“I, uh,” John floundered, really not wanting to get punched again. “I opened a portal to the Abyss, apparently.”

-4hp

“Why the hell did you do that?” she demanded.

“I don’t know!” John shouted, now holding the other side of his face. “Okay, I kind of know, but not really? Look, let me explain before you hit me again, okay?”

“Maybe.” Erica crossed her arms. “I can only keep that promise if you’re done being an idiot.”

“I’m never done being an idiot,” John said. The words came out of his mouth before he could think not to say it. Erica raised a fist and John flinched, but he realized almost immediately that she had no intention of actually hitting him. A sheepish grin crept onto his face. “Case in point.”

“Mhmm,” Erica hummed, crossing her arms again while she waited for John to get on with it.

“Okay, so, I have this thing, a thing I don’t really have full control of. It makes my spells stronger, but it only works when I’m really angry or stressed out.”

“Sounds like a Limit Break,” Erica said.

“I keep forgetting you play games,” John said, more to himself than her. “Yes, exactly like a Limit Break, except that it can trigger on its own if I go too long without using it.”

Erica quirked a brow. John chose to keep the fact that he triggered it on purpose to himself. He always found lies of omission easier to tell than outright falsehoods. They came almost naturally to him.

“And how does that lead to winding up here?” she asked.

“I wanted to open a Barrier,” John admitted with a sigh. “I don’t know why. I think I wanted to show Moira that I can actually fight or something. Maybe I wanted to try power leveling, or maybe I just wanted to run away. Either way, it was stupid.”

“So the Limit Break happened and you wound up in the Abyss instead, is that right?”

“Yup,” John nodded. “And the thing is I can’t just do it whenever I want, so we got stuck.”

“I’m surprised you made it this long with Moira without hitting your limit again,” Erica said, casting the Warden a tight-lipped glance.

“Yeah, actually…” John scratched an itch that appeared on the back of his head. “I would have agreed with you a few days ago. Stuff happened and, uh, we’re cool now.”

“Stuff, huh?” Erica’s raised brow returned.

“Yeah,” John could feel blood gather in his cheeks as he looked away, “stuff.”

“That ‘stuff’ synonymous with almost dying?” she asked. John looked back to her in surprise.

“How’d you know that?” he asked in return.

“I can tell,” Erica said. “You held yourself differently when you got here, and you have a look in your eyes that wasn’t there before. I know the signs that someone has stared down **** and survived." She offered John a wan smile. "We’ll get you some chocolate when we get home.”

“I…” John stopped himself to consider what she meant. Fighting had felt different since his second Gnoll encounter, but he hadn’t noticed it until now. That wasn’t the only thing, though. John had manifested a level of attentiveness that was new, judging by the way they reunited. He remarked internally on how he’d instinctively read the situation in a tactical sense, going so far as to pick up on the minute ways Erica was preparing to attack Moira if she was another threat. He recalled recognizing that Erica was about to punch him, and how quickly he realized her feint. There’s no way he would have noticed that before. “Yeah, I think I get what you mean.”

“Tell me about it?” Erica offered, placing a reassuring palm on his shoulder.

John looked away at first, towards Moira and her group of knights. They seemed about ready to set off back home. It was strange, how wide the distance between him and Moira felt all of the sudden. After a few days growing closer to her than he’d ever expected, the seemingly uncrossable chasm separating them returned in an instant. Things were as they had been before; only this time, John felt an unfamiliar weight in his chest. It wasn’t too heavy, but it was there.

That weight lifted somewhat when, for a brief instant, Moira caught his eye across the gulf. John had only a moment to try and parse the unreadable expression on her face before her attention was pulled away. He couldn’t say what it was, but it wasn’t happy. That much he could say for sure.

“Yeah,” John said. He turned back to Erica, and he couldn’t help but feel a smile creep onto his face as he thought of all the strange moments he could share with his mentor. Things felt a little lighter. He gestured for them to follow the others.

“So,” he began, “have you ever heard of Florida Man?"