“The best protection any woman can have… is courage.”

Elizabeth Cady Stanton, American writer (1815 – 1902)

“I-I’m not going to let you hurt him,” Milly hollered at the goblin, and, this time, it came out as more than a squeak. “I’ll use this if I have to.”

The goblin glared at her with eyes of hate. Its drive to hunt—to kill—hung thick in the air. It stalked towards her, licking its lips as it surveyed the prey who would defy the natural order of the world.

It’s not going to stop. I have to fight it!

“I’ll rip you apart, plump monkey!” screeched the goblin as it circled her, looking for an opportunity to strike. “I’ll tear out your bones and…”

Don’t let it get close. Do it, Milly!

She hurled her spear as hard as she could at the goblin—a surprise attack it didn’t expect. The spear bit into the goblin’s shoulder, popping a massive boil.

The goblin screamed in pain, green puss flowing down its now useless arm. A sickening smell of rot and decay permeated the air. Milly held her breath, trying not to vomit. The stench assailed her senses, but she held her ground, unwilling to leave Xavier defenseless.

“I-Inventory,” she stuttered, trying to make her inventory screen appear. Her mind raced, and she had trouble focusing on anything except the foul-smelling goblin. “Inventory! Come on, please work. Damn it! Inventory!”

The goblin ripped the spear from its shoulder and hurled it to the ground.

“You…you hurt Grebble! I kill you! Die prey! Die!”

With bared teeth, the goblin charged at its prey, all semblance of caution buried beneath its hatred of the woman who dared to fight back.

“Inventory!” Milly cried, forcing herself, for the briefest of moments, to block out everything else around her.

The inventory screen appeared, but she didn’t have time to celebrate. She pressed the icon of the war hammer Xavier had given her in the lobby. The hammer materialized and fell into her arms. It was so heavy that she nearly dropped it. Wrapping both hands around its handle, she braced herself.

Damn it, Xavier. You couldn’t have given me something lighter? Oh shit, swing now! Don’t miss…please don’t miss!

She grasped tightly and swung, throwing her weight into the blow. Her heart pounded so ferociously that she could hear her heartbeat in her ears.

The enraged goblin, believing its prey unarmed and helpless, didn’t notice the sudden appearance of the war hammer until it was too late. The heavy iron head struck the goblin full-force in the face.

Milly heard a bone-snapping crunch as the goblin’s squat body was hurled to the ground, landing on its back in the dirt.

She waited, heart in her throat, for it to get back up, but it never did. Its fractured skull seeped its contents into the soil below and its leg twitched as death settled in. The hatred in its eyes faded as it stared up at the cloudless sky—the last sight it would ever see.

I hit it! Oh god, I killed it. I-I think I’m gonna be sick!

She let the hammer fall from her hands—its flat edge covered in sticky bits of goblin blood, puss, and hair—and she vomited out the meager contents of her stomach. The foul stench of the goblin’s ichor reached her nose, and she vomited again. It ran down her chin and over the front of her hoodie, soaking into the fabric.

She didn’t stop vomiting until her stomach was empty and she was dry heaving. She collapsed to the ground, her legs weak.

“X-Xavier,” she muttered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she crawled over to his body. The man lay unmoving, his hair caked in blood. A growing sense of panic filled her. “Come on, wake up. Xavier!”

She eased open his eyes, his pupils large. He didn’t react to her touch. His leg began to twitch as his breath grew shallow.

There must be something I can do. Think, Milly. Think!

She felt helpless. She looked frantically around the clearing, but all she could see was grass, the river, and the dead deer and dying goblin. Nothing that would help her save him.

The Castle of Glass is at least a half an hour away. I could run for help—but…but I can’t run, and I can’t leave him behind. Why can’t I do anything useful?

A few feet away, the goblin released its grip on life as its final breath escaped its lips. As it died, a screen popped up in front of her.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Congratulations! You have defeated a Goblin Scout.

That was a close one, wasn’t it? Unfortunately for you, this is as easy as it gets. Well, this should help for the next time.

You have been awarded 10 experience points.

Milly Hawthorn has leveled up. Two attribute points and one talent point acquired.

Item Received: Soiled Goblin Loincloth

Gold: 5

All items and gold acquired have been added to your inventory.

Milly Hawthorn has acquired her first talent point. Talent points may be spent using the Talent Web.

Milly focused, and the talent web appeared.

“There must be something here that will help,” she said desperately as she manipulated the web like a touch screen. “But what the hell am I looking for?”

The web zoomed out as far as it would go, revealing a network of tens of thousands of talents available for her to select. The talents were organized into different sections and subcategories, each occupying a different area of the web.

She scanned the sections, looking for something—anything—that could help save Xavier’s life.

Civilization talents? No, that’s stuff like construction, colony leadership and city planning. Useful for survival, but they won’t help Xavier. Exploration talents? That’s skills like mapmaking, shipbuilding and treasure hunting, but no healing. Damn it.

She scrolled further right.

Warfare and weaponry. Martial arts and meditation. Agriculture and aeronautics. There are dozens of different kinds of magic, but they all look so complicated. This thing is so big! And I don’t even know what I’m looking for!

“I don’t have read all of this,” Milly cried aloud, swiping the talent web in frustration. “Just tell me what I need!”

An icon—a simple green circle with a question mark in the middle—blinked into existence at the center of the web. A short message appeared, overlayed on her screen.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

You have activated the Talent Web Navigational Assistant. Please input parameters.

The talent screen zoomed in on a section of the web called ‘Psychiatric Assistance’.

“Oh, you think you’re really funny, don’t you? Well, I don’t have time for bullshit! Show me a talent I can use to physically heal Xavier.”

The talent web shifted again, this time to the bottom left corner of the web and a category entitled ‘Physical Well-being’. Milly quickly scanned the options.

Medicine. Magical Protection. Magical healing. Physical Well-being must be the right category, but there are dozens of talents available in each category. I need to narrow it down.

“I don’t have any medical supplies,” she explained, starting to get the hang of the navigator. “And I need something that works quickly.”

The icon sailed over to the ‘magical healing’ category and zoomed in on the available talents.

“Regeneration, disease resistance, healer’s aura, Healer’s…this one! Show me this talent.”

The icon flashed orange, and a description appeared.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Healer’s Touch (Level 1)

This is the God Contest. You will get hurt. A lot. Like, a ridiculous amount. And the Gods don’t want to wait for you to heal before you get back to the action. Because that’s boring. And, frankly, we don’t have that kind of time. Luckily, there’s a solution—Healer’s Touch!

The foundation of all healing magic, Healer’s Touch gives the player the ability to magically mend physical injuries. The amount of time and magic required for the process depends upon the severity of the injury and the player’s magic attribute score.

The talent web flashed, and Healer’s Touch glowed gold as it was activated.

“How do I…ah…Ahh!”

Milly's mind erupted with sharp, intense pain as a torrent of magical know-how was downloaded directly into her brain. She grasped the sides of her head and doubled over, her breath coming in gasps and her teeth clenched in agony.

The pain lasted only for a moment, and as it faded, she shook off the residual feeling and sprang into action.

Placing her hands on Xavier’s head, she concentrated on his injury, able to sense the extent of the damage.

His skull is cracked. It’s bad. Where do I start? Think Milly—dig into that knowledge.

She turned her attention inward, to the magical reservoir she could now sense lying deep inside her—a pool of pure energy that had settled in next to her heart. She reached for it and, as if she were spinning silk, gently weaved it up her arms to the tips of her fingers. It took immense focus to maintain the stream of magic flowing within her, lest the thread break and waste the magic. She knew her magic energy would regenerate over time—the download had told her as much—but she didn’t have the magic to waste. Xavier needed everything she had.

If I break my concentration, he’s not going to make it. Focus!

Her hands glowed a faint blue—the color of the sky on a cloudless summer’s day. With gentle pressure, she weaved the magic from her fingertips into his wound, as if she were threading a needle. The magic went deep, and she could sense the accelerated healing take effect.

She settled in as the world around her dimmed, all her attention on the slow and methodical magical process that would save her friend’s life.

It was twenty minutes before Xavier's internal injuries were healed and his head wound scabbed over. His breath steadied and his spasms stopped, but he was still unconscious.

Milly was exhausted. Her hands and arms trembled from the effort, and she was drenched head to toe with sweat. She had poured every bit of magic she had into Xavier and now she felt hollow inside—her magical reserve empty. Her eyes grew heavy, and she struggled to keep them open.

I need to stay awake…there are…yawn…too many dangers out here. Oh...I-I shouldn’t have drained all my magic…

She watched Xavier’s chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm, and lay her head on his chest to listen to his heartbeat.

He’s...he’s going to be okay. He’s…

With a final yawn, she fell protectively over Xavier's unconscious form, and closed her eyes.

And, surrounded by the dangers of the wilds, she fell asleep.

The Non-Canonical Aftermath:

Goblin 42 slams the door to his dressing room, furious.

"You gave her my loin cloth as a reward?" he shouts at the Author, a black censor bar swinging where the loin cloth had once been.

"Well, I had to give them something,” explains The Author.

"That was my favorite loincloth," whines Goblin 42. "I finally had it smelling just the way I wanted!"

"I'll get you a new one," The Author promises.

"Why would I want a new one? The value is in the stench."

"Eww..." says Milly, disgusted. “I think I’ll stay unconscious for a bit longer.”

“Yeah,” Xavier agrees. “Me too.”