Obelix was in a foul mood. Two days had passed since Asterix left, and everyone was still restricted to the village. Everyone except him, since they still needed supplies from the forest. He considered himself extremely lucky to be the one who fell in the magic potion for once; if he had had to wait like the others, with only his every-day activities to distract him, he would most likely have given up the whole concept of staying out of this adventure. But his supernatural abilities made hunting and gathering supplies for Getafix only short activities. He also thought Getafix was sending him to gather things just to keep him occupied. He knew that Getafix was brewing potions to countereffect illusions, cure wounds and cuts and to create illusions on their own. He was searching for his own means to battle Mesmeron, as he had explained to Obelix. But Obelix was fairly sure that Getafix already knew all these potions quite well. Maybe their druid was doing his best to keep himself busy as well. He confided in Obelix more than usual, Asterix absence seemed to bother him too. But not their druid, Bonny's careful attempts to make amends or the daily errands that Vitalstatistix thought up for him, could really distract him from what was going on. And it certainly did not convince him that staying behind had been the right decision. The forest was deadly calm, the Romans did not attack…if anything was out of the ordinary, it was the unusual quietness of the forest, the Romans and his fellow villagers. There had only been one small fish fight since Asterix left, making the daily record drop by 75%. The other villagers suffered the same discomfort as he did, only in a milder form.

It did not lift his mood to see Bravura walking around. She was positively foul too. Oficially she lived at Obelix' hut, but it had been clear from the start that she took a special liking to Asterix. Some pets like to be petted by everyone, Bravura was not one of them. Obelix could usually handle her fine as well, she normally would like to be petted by him, but right now she seemed to blame him for Asterix' absence. Still, it was well that she did not go with the little warrior, since she had started limping again this morning. He had tried to let Getafix have a look at her paw, but she had growled and fidgeted so much that Getafix could not get a good look. Finally, the old man had suggested to wait a few days. He could always sedate the little dog so he could have a look, but since Bravura was still a pup, there was a risk of overdosing her. It made more sense to wait for Asterix return. That last remark had sent Obelix right into his current mood. Of course it made sense to wait for Asterix. But he hated waiting. He hated making sense. He….had a real hard time hiding his surprise as he saw a tiny black-haired girl sitting on his table as he entered his hut. She was studying the inscriptions of a helmet that once belonged to a roman, without so much as glancing up at him as he closed the door behind him. Since girls sitting on his table (or being in his hut altogether) were not a daily occurrence, he immediately linked the scrawny raven-haired creature in front of him to Asterix' description of her. Seems he was right about thinking she would come here. Obelix was not sure if that was a good thing though. She looked up at him now. Normally, Obelix was quite enthusiastic about meeting new people. But due to this young woman, Asterix was now on a solo trip towards danger. He knew he could not really blame her for this, but she looked quite unfazed by it all, as if a roman helmet was more interesting to her than the faith of his best friend.

Phyllis had heard Obelix coming long before he entered his hut. His sulking mood had increased rapidly over the course of the last two days, and she had grown worried despite herself. Maybe the large warrior knew something she didn't? She hadn't planned on letting him know she was around, but when she heard him approach somehow she could just not bring herself to disappear again. Waiting took even longer when you could not talk to anyone….

Phyllis had done her homework about Asterix when she had first heard his name mentioned by Manilla. She had not trusted Manilla to stick to her decision not to involve Getafix and his fellow villagers back in the past. And as she had inquired about him among roman soldiers, Obelix came into the picture too. They were quite famous, infamous actually. But their strength would not help against Mesmeron. So it had seemed to her that they could be of little assistance against him. She still thought the same way about this. Still, meeting Asterix had been a surprise. She had not expected him to be so perceptive. She thought she had more or less managed to figure him out, without even using much of her abilities. But she had been wrong, because his decision to track down Goliath had been an utter surprise. It seemed like the blonde warrior had done a better job at reading her than she had done on him. This worried her, but it also intrigued her.

During her initial investigation, she had also heard about the idea of Julius Caesar to battle the invincible Gauls with an army of women soldiers, which she had found incredibly funny back then. So stupid. But the idea was defended a little by the centurion who told her the story. According to him, the only thing that could bring the enormous Obelix down was a woman. Looking at him right now, Phyllis seriously doubted this. If she would be able to bring him down, it would most certainly not have anything to do with her being female. Either way, it did not matter, she was not here to pick a fight. She let the helmet turn on one of her fingers "this one looks rather undamaged," she said. "1st legion, 3rd cohort, 2nd maniple. You have friends among Ceasars favourite legion?"

Obelix frowned. It was not quite what he had expected her to say. Then her remark sunk in, and he realized she was holding the helmet Asterix had worn during their adventure to save Tragicomix. His frown deepened. "What are you doing here," he asked, a little surprised at the unfriendly tone his voice carried.

Phyllis seemed quite unaffected by it. "Observing you, I guess," she said frankly. "You seem to be in a rather foul mood. Something the matter?"

Would it hurt to tell her? Obelix wasn't sure. But Asterix seemed to think she could be trusted, and Obelix had his own questions. "Asterix went to search for you horse. Your…uhm…Bonny and Manilla seem to think it is quite dangerous." The last part of his sentence had sounded much like a question, and Phyllis understood she was supposed to deny or confirm the statement.

"If your friend had consulted me on the matter, I would have told him it was pretty much a ticket into serious trouble, but since he didn't, we'll just have to hope for the best, won't we?" Her words did not only lack emotion this time, they also seriously lacked surprise.

"You knew already," Obelix said. The accusing tone in his voice made her raise an eyebrow.

"You know, and yet you're observing ME. Aren't you supposed to be all dark powers and stuff? My best friend is risking his life for YOU. The least you could do is give him a hand!" Obelix was fuming.

She gave him a nasty smile. "Like you're doing?" she shot back, her green eyes flashing dangerously. "Besides, you're giving your buddy an awful lot of credit. For me? Try for getting on my good side, so I won't become an additional problem to your village."

Obelix straightened up. "There would be other ways to solve that," he said, dangerously quiet. They continued to glare at each other for a few moments. Obelix tried to collect his calm again. He did not know exactly what Asterix had expected him to do when Phyllis paid the village a visit, they hadn't really discussed it. But he guessed throwing her a few miles into the sea was probably not it. So instead of doing just that, he launched himself onto one of his chairs. "Asterix does not think like that," he said flatly.

Phyllis was inclined to believe him. Her first instincts told her he was right. But they had been wrong before, and she had learned not to rely on them too much. She felt confused. She had not meant to pick a fight, but it happened anyway.

"Why are you not with Asterix?" she finally asked, carefully avoiding any accusing tone this time. "I mean, I know you're not really a warrior by profession, but you two usually go together no? Did you have a fight?"

Obelix shook his head wildly in denial. "I…I stick out", he said, thinking it sounded quite weakly. "We wanted to avoid to attract attention…" Phyllis looked him up and down. "Yeah," she said, "You do stick out. And you don't have to drink magic potion to be as strong as you are. How did that happen? Did you overdose?" "Fell in when I was little," Obelix murmured.

"It makes you stand out from the rest of the villagers. You're like….the winged helmet in a legion of regular helmets. A valuable collector's item. And Mesmeron likes to collect. Asterix is quite a thinker, isn't he?"

It was Obelix' turn to be confused. Her reasoning made little sense to him. And just a minute ago, she seemed less than happy with Asterix, yet now she was almost paying him a compliment. She continued talking before he could respond: "I'm one too. A collectors' item. Very valuable. The reason Mesmeron chose not to kill Goliath. To control me, to collect me. I'll never become part of his collection, but I….stayed out of his way."

"You really love that horse, don't you?"

"I do. But Mesmeron would know if I tried to reach her. Don't think I never tried. You may stick out, but I'm like a sky-enlightening torch to him. So we're kind of stuck in the same place. My best friend may be on a trip with yours soon."

"She will be. Asterix never fails. But when he succeeds, he will be in danger…"

"He already is. But yes, Mesmeron will be livid."

"Then you owe him something, you have to help him." It did not sound like a plea, more like an order.

"I'm helping. I'm keeping an eye on you."

"That's not going to do much good for Asterix."

"Isn't it? Your village is being threatened; a wizard with almost unlimited power has taken an interest in you. What is your biggest fear?"

Obelix did not have to think two seconds about it. And he understood what she meant to say. Suddenly he appreciated the skinny girl on his table a little more. She was really skinny. Pale as well. He hadn't been a good host up till now. "Would you like something to eat? I was going to make lunch."

"No you weren't. You have barely eaten the last two days. Good thing the wife of your chef has somewhat of an eye for that."

Impedimenta had ordered him to eat dinner with them the previous day. It felt a little creepy, to have Phyllis know these things when he had never been aware of her presence. But Asterix had already warned him about that. He gave her a somewhat irritated look.

"I'll have something if you have something too," she said quickly. "What are you making? Roasted boar?"

"Do you like that?"

"I'd like to try."

As Obelix prepared the boar(s), Phyllis' green eyes darted across the room. After a while, her eye fell upon the little Bravura, nestled upon a blanket. She was licking one of her paws rather obsessively. It seemed to hurt. Phyllis placed herself near the blanket, earning a warning growl from the female pup. Obelix looked up. "She'not really nice," he warned.

"Neither am I," Phyllis countered. She watched Bravura intently for a few minutes. The pup had stopped licking and now just looked at the dark-haired woman. After a while, she nestled a bit more comfortably in the blanket, seemingly deciding there was no immediate reason to be defensive.

"Is she your dog?" Phyllis asked.

"She's a pup of Dogmatix. But she's more Asterix' dog. He couldn't take her. Something is wrong with one of her paws."

"Did you treat it in any way?"

"Well, she's not easy to have a look at. I could hold her still if I wanted, but I'm a bit afraid to hurt her...It seemed better after Bonny treated her, but after a few days, she started limping again." To his surprise, Phyllis did not even flinch at the name of her former best friend.

"How did she treat her?" she asked.

"She threw some sort of blue orb around her." Obelix suddenly remembered something. "Bonny said she learnt that from you. Maybe she did it wrong."

"I doubt that. She's an excellent healer, possibly better than Manilla. I never really learnt her to do what you just described to me. Generally you need like touching contact to transfer the healing powers in a person to the animal or person they want to cure. The same goes for "darker" powers, like mind control. Only, it is not in your best interest to have to touch enemies before you can deal them a blow, so you try to work with indirect contact. Throwing your powers upon them, actually.

I learnt her how to do that. Bonny can cast her healing powers onto something and seemingly forget about them, do other things while her powers continue work. I need more focus to heal. But I can do it with some of my other powers. Do you have tweezers?"

Obelix tried to process and remember all the information about powers, he wanted to relate it to Asterix. But that last question made him forget everything.

"Tweezers?" he repeated, confused. "No, I don't. Getafix might have some." He was reluctant to leave his hut and Bravura alone with Phyllis. "It's for Bravura," she said, locking eyes with him. "Please get me some tweezers. Don't tell anyone I'm here."

Despite his reluctance, he was on his way immediately. When he returned moments later, Phyllis held an almost sleeping Bravura on her lap. Obelix handed her the instrument with a great deal of confusion. He had not planned on leaving his hut, but he had done so without hesitation. Why? And Bravura seemed totally relaxed, although she generally loathed strangers. He felt really uncomfortable. Phyllis massaged Bravura's paw with one hand, holding the tweezers in the other. She was biting her lip in concentrating. Only moments later, a few drops of bright red blood stained the white paw, and Phyllis held up the tweezers to show him what she was holding with them. He looked at the bleeding front paw instead.

"Don't worry about that," she told him. "The blood cleans out the cut made by this thing. It's a thorn. From some kind of berry bush I think. That's why the healing didn't work. If the reason for the wound is still present, it can't heal, can it?" She put the tweezers aside and put her hand over the small paw. Bravura put her head on top of it, and Phyllis smiled a little. It was amazing how the small smile changed her appearance. Her hand glowed, a faint blue light, much like he had seen before. She continued to sit like this for a few minutes, and Obelix held in his question, afraid to disturb her. It was obvious that Bravura already felt better. Only when Phyllis started stroking her, the light slowly fainting from her hands, he dared to ask: "I thought your healing power were gone? You told Asterix so." It sounded a little accusing again.

"I didn't tell him that, I said I couldn't set my mind on them. But I see your point. I didn't lie to him, it was true a few days ago. Few truths are ever-lasting, you know.

He could accept that. Just as he was about to ask what had caused her mind to focus again, he heard a faint nod at the door, followed by a melodic voice calling his name. Bonny. He stood up to open the door, looking at Phyllis, who put a finger on her lips. He opened the door, facing a rather surprised Bonny. He had ignored her as she had come to visit him yesterday. Unsure of what to say to her, he turned back to Phyllis. But she was gone.