I quiver tiredly, edging away, and it follows me and pushes me, blasting me with another warm burst of air. At least it feels warmer than the breeze coming across the river. The smell from the inside of its body doesn’t smell too bad, not compared to an ogre. I despair, close my eyes, waiting for it to eat me and it makes a familiar noise. 

“Eeeeeeeeeeeee!” A… a horse’s whinny!

I’d heard the noise horses make in films, and even heard it while in Vayne’s body, but since I’ve never ridden one in my life, I can’t be completely sure of it, but… this is a horse and not a baleful monster.

My eyes widen in realization. Is it Vayne’s horse that I found?! He did leave it by the river near the village, but I’m not sure where.

Hesitantly, I reach up and touch its long and shaggy neck and run my fingers through its short hair and the longer on its neck. As I gently pet it, it whickers and making some kind of a decision, it lies beside me.

It’s body's so warm… I wonder why it’s here and hasn’t wandered closer to its master? 

After a moment, it lays its head on me, seeming to want reassurement or some companionship. The feeling is mutual.

Feeling that the horse means me no harm, I curl up against its big warm body and sigh, relaxing my aching muscles as its body heat gives me monetary relief from the freezing cold. It softly whickers, looking at me, although I can barely make out its long face. I pet it gently some more on impulse. It’s dry and very warm. It wouldn’t be bad to take a break and sleep here by its side, basking in its warmth.

I think for a long moment, relaxing, and realizing something, I frown. Early morning hours tend to be coldest just before daybreak.

I can’t ride horses, but maybe I can try to do just that and see if it’ll let me. Maybe it’ll take me the rest of the way to the village where maybe I can salvage some clothes, that sword and the chest. I’d be lucky if there was something warm locked up in it.

Chewing my lip, hesitating because I’m truly loath to leave this blessed warmth, I wait for what feels like a half of an hour, resting before mustering the willpower to rise. The horse neighs when I move and shakes before climbing up with me to nuzzle at my shoulder. I stroke its arched neck and fumble for its head between its pointy ears, stroking. It whickers more, seemingly happy for some attention.

Does Vayne even bother to pet them? As tame as this one is and so friendly, I can’t imagine it being wild.

“Do you mind if I ride you?” I ask very softly in a whisper. It doesn’t answer, of course. Horses don’t speak. With some anxiety, I walk along its side, petting more and reach my arm around its neck and struggle to throw a leg over it. With a pout, I frown. As flexible as Halima is, my leg stretches up as far as neck level, but I don’t think I have the strength to pull myself up.

Seeming to understand my problem, the horse sits back on its haunches. I put my leg down with a blush. Turning, I climb up onto its back. It stands underneath me and lifts me. My legs stretch uncomfortably on either side as I straddle it, making the muscles in my thighs stretch in ways that aren’t used to it. I throw my arms around the horse’s neck and clench my legs to its sides. “Um… can we go to the village?”

 I point along the riverbank in the right direction where I want to go. The horse snorts loudly and does nothing.

With a frown, I think about what I might be doing wrong now. Considering how Vayne clenched his legs against the horse’s sides firmly, his horse moved forward. And he grabbed the reins and used those to guide how the horse moved. I look for those and find that, for some strange reason this horse has none. Come to think, there’s also no saddle on its back. Is this really Vayne’s horse?

I have no obvious way to direct the movement of the horse. What can I do instead?

I knot my fingers into its mane and hope for the best as I dig my knees into the horse’s sides. It responds by neighing and charges forward… in the wrong direction. I pull its neck gently in the right direction, finding that I kind of have to force it to point in the right direction. The horse finally obliges after our little tug-of-war game. It trots towards the riverbank, whickering softly. I angle its head towards where the village should be, grinning at my victory. It’s working!

The clip-clopping of its hooves clattering on the beach’s rocks and the grinding noises as some rub against each other fills the air. This kind of racket could be problematic… but that’s a chance that I have to take. 

As we go, its body warmth spreads up through my legs, although the moving air rushing over my upper body and legs makes me shiver again. Before riding it too far, I pull firmly on its mane, seeing the village ahead. Halima’s memories of the land around tickle at me. Just before entering the village, the clouds part slightly again and the light bouncing off the moon faintly illuminates things, giving me a bearing, even with all the spread out homes rendered to burned out husks. 

Looking around the smallish area from the vantage of a higher place, and with all the walls reduced low enough to see over everything, I notice that all the monsters seem to have wandered off.

Hmmmm… could any of them be hiding in the wreckage? I can’t be certain.

With a sigh of anxiety, I dig my knees in and urge the horse onwards, guiding it to where Halima’s house is, or was. Why would the monsters want to hang around here doing nothing, I guess? Did they turn on each other right away? Maybe they chased each other off or something?

Continuing onwards astride the horse, we reach the mostly untouched garden outside her home. I’m relieved to see that the trees in their garden have mostly escaped harm. In a community like this, people trade services and food from gardens. What Jeraldyne contributed was embroidery, clothes washing services and food. 

I carefully lower myself to my feet in the grass, especially happy to see that their fruit tree has plenty of food on it. Walking over to it, I pick a fruit and turning towards the horse, I stroke its neck and offer it the fresh fruit. The horse stretches its neck out and wraps its sloppy mouth around the fruit, eating it almost as fast as I did back on the mountainside. With a little laugh, I wrap my arms around myself and wince at getting slobber on my shoulder. 

The horse whickers softly for more. “Ahhhh… I get you. Wait here,” I say softly, smiling warmly at the horse. “This is the start of a beautiful relationship.”

Heading to the tree again, not far away, I pick out another couple of fruits and offer them to my new friend. It eats the fruit as greedily as ever. 

With a nod, rubbing my goosebump covered arms, I tread over to the burnt-out frame of the house’s wreckage to inspect it. After a moment, I start rummaging through the ashes and broken wood that made up the home, working as quietly as I can getting to where the door was. The house fell somewhat outward as it collapsed.

Moving large chunks of char-covered blackened wood that make my hands black as the night itself, upon examining them for any splinters, I get a wonderful idea. With an impish smile, I rub my hands all over my body as though I’m washing myself and turn my too white skin blackened. As I rub on the char, painting my body with it, I feel almost clothed, even warmer.

My eyes widen in surprise. I thought maybe it would disguise my scent and hide me in the dark, but its actually… kind of warm now, almost like I had fur!

Shaking my head and grinning, I set to moving more heavy, burnt chunks of things and as I dig, I finally see it. The sword isn’t as shiny as Halima remembers, but the rose on its hilt smiles at me from under the pile and I pry at things and heave other things to slide it free. The wooden bin it was kept in burnt to ashes like much of the rest.

Examining its rusty length, I grimace. It doesn’t look to be in good enough condition to be able to cut anything very well. Not waiting, I wander through the remnants of the house, rooting around, clambering as I search for where the chest had sat in the attic. Things should be roughly where Halima remembers.

Not seeing the chest right away, I set to digging where Halima’s memories place it. Somewhere here… I set myself tiredly to shifting more things. It’s painful work. I’m just thankful that much of it is movable. But some of the beams are too heavy, so I work around those. Breathing hard after nudging things around, I finally catch sight of the metal surface shining, though most of it’s soot-covered. Like the sword, as Halima remembers, it has a rose emblem on its front. Freeing it from the mess, I heave a sigh as I inspect the chest more daringly than Halima ever could. Jeraldyne would call her down whenever she caught Halima poking around near it. 

The chest is a puzzle. 

It has a sealed lid. Trying to budge the lid directly, I find that even with it dented after some things fell on it, it’s still in good enough shape to bar casual access. I keep working at it for a bit, but no matter how hard I pry at it, it won’t budge. Even digging my fingernails into the slight groove between the lid and the body, it remains tightly sealed. 

Chewing my lip, I turn the heavy thing over, seeing that there’s a slot both in the front and back of the chest up in the lid above the rose that rests over the seam there. 

My brows knit in puzzlement as I think my way through it. No keyhole exists anywhere on it that I can see, and yet it is locked. Is it a magic trick? Jeraldyne didn’t tell Halima anything to give me any real hints about how to… She just got angry any time Halima asked Jeraldyne about it and the sword, but looking at the sword, I get an idea, thinking about something Jeraldyne almost said.

Why don’t you put it inside that weird metal chest in the attic if it’s so scary?

Quiet, Halima. That’d be…

….

That’d be what? Stupid? If she was going to say that, why? Well, it’s true that it wouldn’t fit, but only an idiot locks up their key inside a safe.

Certain that I’m right, I lift the sword that I laid aside to work. Directing the tip to the slot in the front of the chest, I shove the sword through the lid. It grates against things inside, screeching and making odd clicks. Nothing happens until I drive it the whole way in with the hilt’s points resting against the chest. There’s a louder clicking noise and the lid springs open. Behind me, the horse neighs loudly, and I turn to see a huge wolf standing there, eyeing my horse hungrily.

Its saliva runs from its jaws, sparkling in the moonlight as more clouds part and the area is illuminated again. 

Shit! I look at the panicking horse, finding myself having to make a difficult choice. The wolf isn’t looking at me. A horse would probably more than fill its belly. Either of us might, but when you consider how basically greedy creatures can be, more is usually more appealing.

Do I try to save the horse, or do I let it lead the wolf away from me in its flight and get away while I can? The realist in me says that a horse’s life isn’t worth more than mine, but it shared its body warmth with me when I was exhausted and freezing and even gave me a ride. I’d be ungrateful if I didn’t protect the horse in return. 

With a sigh, I yank the sword free from the chest’s lid with a loud screeching noise. No matter whatever lay in the chest, I wouldn’t have the time to do anything but act. Any waiting would result in the horse being chased off or killed. With the loud noise drawing the wolf’s attention my way, it fixes me with its baleful gaze and snarls bounding at me.

The soot neatly covers my scent and renders me invisible. But I went and drew its attention to myself when I was most likely safe.

Damn my stupid, reckless courage!

Raising the sword in front of me as the wolf lunges without hesitation, its jaws snap open to reveal gums and rows of sharp teeth as it glares at me, showing me how a predator looks at its prey. Holding the sword up before me, prodding my mind for how Vayne moved while I was riding along with him, I do my best to put to use what he did while he was slaughtering the goblins. I turn abruptly at the last moment and bring the sword with all my strength to slice into its side. If the sword wasn’t so terribly blunt, I might have ended the fight right then.

It lands heavily into the mess of what’s left of the house, sending fragments of charred wood and blackened dust flying around as it promptly turns and snarls at me, hunkering down. Blood drips from the wound I opened on its sooty fur-covered side, making a large mat. Waiting, I hold the sword in front of me, waiting for it to lunge again. It wouldn’t likely wait long before it did. The horse neighing, clearly unnerved, it gallops off.

Traitor! I think, amused. My amusement doesn’t last, though. The wolf digs its paws in and launches at me as expected since its primary weapon is its fangs. Falling back, I haul my arms forward hard as I can, slamming the sword tip into its head. The sword wrenches from my hands as the sword embeds deeply into the wolf’s skull with a splash of its blood flying all over as it sails over. It lands heavily into the yard and hits the garden wall, cracking it and sending stones flying. 

I take a long breath, looking for another possible weapon. Shit… now what, genius?

It unsteadily gets up onto its paws and looks at me with blood streaming down its nose around its grizzled gray muzzle. Its mouth works and twitches as it collapses and lays its head down on the grass. 

“Haaaaaah…” Heaving a sigh of relief and exhaustion, I turn back towards the chest, leaving my sword embedded in the head of the wolf. I clamber over things and throw the lid the rest of the way to see what's inside. Plates of shiny metal and leather lay there. I lift them out carefully, seeing that there’s a pauldron with golden trimming and leather straps, a large breastplate with assorted straps and other plates attached. It’s some light armor! It won’t keep me warmer than the soot or clothes would, but it’ll help to protect my body in a fight.

“Nice find, girl,” Vayne’s cold voice comes from behind me and I hear his armored feet tramp over towards the wolf’s dead body. “You did a fine job of handling this critter. Who are you?”

I turn to meet Vayne’s gaze with startlement. He has his arms crossed in front of his chest and his eyes are narrowed with suspicion.

“You might not believe what I have to tell you,” I say, beyond exhaustion. “But, I’m from another world… or otherwise this is just some kind of a horrible dream I’ve been having.” Turning, I look at the wreckage of the house and add, “the body I’m kind of borrowing… This was her house. She knew about a sword being here, kept by her mother, passed down to her by her father along with a chest.” Turning back to Vayne, I shrug helplessly. “I thought there would be something useful in it to use here if I could just…”

“IDIOT!” Vayne splutters. “This place was full of monsters not too long ago. The villagers just turned, and you thought you wouldn’t meet any of ‘em? You’re damn lucky they wandered off. I had to kill a couple of ghouls that were following you. They’re almost nastier than ogres, I’ll have you know. This direwolf must have been strong enough to drive most of the others off, except for the ogres. Those massive, dumb creatures wander and eat anything they come across.”

“You said to run far away.” I sigh softly. “And I did… I know it was dangerous coming back here, but I’m cold and miserable except for all this soot.” I gesture at myself.

“Nice touch, that. That makes me wonder even more about you. Soot works famously. Almost as good as clothes, but doesn’t leave much to imagination.”

I cover my chest reflexively, blushing angrily. “I needed to forage for things that would help me survive.”

With a rolling of his eyes, Vayne unfastens a bundle at his side and tosses it at me. I see that he’s got some clothes tied up in some twine for me, all wrapped into a small bundle. Picking at the knots he made, I find a loop and pull it all free while he bends down and places a foot on the wolf’s head to wrench my sword free with a squishing and crunching noise. He examines the blade with a contemptuous look. “I guess this sword will serve once the rust is rubbed off and the blade polished and sharpened. I might be inclined to show you how to restore it.” He shakes his head. “But what’s in it for me? Hmph. As for what you just told me, I think you’re full of shit. A visitor from another world you say? Those are old legends that don’t mean a thing. You’re delusional if you think I’ll buy that bullshit.”

“If I’m lying…” I mutter as I pull on the clothes that he brought for me, I start feeling even warmer and better about having a layer of clothing to hold in my body warmth. The clothes aren’t beautiful, baggy in many places, but I don’t care about being stylish right now. 

The shirt’s simple, somewhat crushing my breasts against my ribs. The pants are a bit loose but tight about the hips, but there’s a fastener to cinch it at my feminine waist. I knot the cord and turn to the chest. “If I’m lying to you, how do I know your name, Vayne?”

“I don’t know,” Vayne says grudgingly. “The way you fight, I guess that you’re probably not an assassin. I don’t believe your story, not a whit of it. Ain't no way you could kill me. I can tell that much just from watchin’ you. You’re too damned weak, but I’ll still keep my eye on you.”

“How do you know I’m not one of these assassins you’re so scared of? I could be pretending, right?” I smile faintly.

“Heh. Unless you knew I was watching you, that’s unlikely. You ain’t got any reason to pretend to be so bad at fighting. I’ll settle for your being a strange, crazy girl with delusions of grandeur for now.”