It was dusk when Lightning regained consciousness. She woke up bound once again, but this time in a different, much larger tent. And she was not alone. Her eyes fluttered open to find the redheaded girl from the river kneeling in front of her, applying some kind of salve to her stomach. The girl was covered in painted marks, her attire now more ornate, adorned with beads and fabric woven around her small frame. A headdress covered her eyes with a thin veil, with jewels dangling from it and looping behind her neck.

The tent was dimly lit, shadows dancing on the walls from the flickering firelight. The air was thick with the scent of herbs and smoke, mingling with the earthy smell of the ground beneath them. Lightning's gaze shifted back to Vanille, who was now carefully applying more salve to her wounds. The girl's touch was gentle, almost reverent, as if she were handling something delicate and precious.

"Easy, easy," Vanille spoke calmly as Lightning began to sit up, grunting from pain. "I've just stopped the bleeding. Stop it!" Vanille chided, then sighed softly, though worry was evident in her green eyes. She genuinely seemed to care for the soldier, and as Lightning glanced down at her many bandages, she assumed she did, Viper or not. The soldier bit back any harsh comments and merely nodded, resting back on the fabrics spread underneath her. She couldn't even feel the gravel that made up the base of the tent.

Lightning couldn't help but feel a mix of confusion and gratitude. These people, whom she had been taught to fear and despise, were now the ones saving her life. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but she had no choice but to accept it.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

"It speaks." Fang suddenly appeared by Vanille's side, crouching down with a perpetual scowl on her face. Her green eyes sparkled against the firelight burning at Lightning's back.

"Go away, Fang. I'm sure she doesn't want to see you right now."

Fang smirked at Vanille's protest, the corner of her mouth curling up in amusement. "I'm not going anywhere, Vanille," she replied, her tone teasing but firm. She allowed herself to be gently pushed aside, but only just enough to give Lightning some space.

Vanille sighed, rolling her eyes at Fang's stubbornness, though there was no real anger in her expression. "You're impossible," she muttered, though a small smile tugged at her lips. She knew Fang well enough to understand that her watchful stance was driven by concern, even if it came across as cold or intimidating.

Lightning, still too weak to do much more than watch, caught the exchange between the two women. She could sense the bond between them, something strong and deep, forged through shared experiences and mutual care. It reminded her of her younger sister, the kind-hearted girl she'd wanted to protect. She took several deep breaths to steady her heart.

Fang stepped back, observing her. She looked pitiful—bruised and bandaged, pink hair soaked with blood that had yet to be washed out. Fang could hardly believe what she was witnessing. After all the tales from her tribe about the Vipers' nest above, waiting to strike—ruthless and lethal, killing without mercy like in the great war many millennia ago—she'd long since gotten over her fear and grown to hate them. Thinking back, she nearly laughed. This was what she had been so frightened of as a child? A wounded soldier barely able to handle her own weight or talk back? Kicking a rock, she walked to the fire, finding a cushion to place herself on and sat down cautiously.

She stayed close to her friend in case that Viper decided to try anything. Fang wouldn't hesitate to put her lance through their skull.

Moments passed, and Lightning felt the warmth creeping up her spine. Despite the pain, she couldn't suppress the curiosity growing within her. She had so many questions, but her throat burned too much to speak more than a whisper. Instead, she closed her eyes and focused on the warmth spreading through her body, the pain gradually ebbing away as the salve worked its magic.

Vanille finished tending to her wounds and sat back on her heels, her expression softening as she looked at Lightning. "You'll be okay," she said quietly, her voice filled with unexpected kindness. "Just rest."

Fang's mouth started to open, but Vanille shot her a look, not in any mood to hear anything contrary. "Fine," Vanille finally conceded, turning back to Lightning with a softer expression as she was starting to doze again. "But try not to scare her off, okay?" Vanille said, passing Fang on her way to the opening of the tent.

Fang chuckled again, a low, throaty sound that seemed to echo around the tent. "No promises," she said, though the edge in her voice had softened slightly.

Vanille stepped out into the heat, and to her surprise, an older woman greeted her with a bow.

"Good day, Priestess," she croaked. Vanille smiled gently in return, still not quite used to the title, and headed through the center of their small accumulation of tents. It wasn't their home, not really; they'd settled here several months ago, trying to expand their clan's territory. She missed the ocean, their small buildings, the coziness of it all. It wasn't like this, bordered by a forest so dense she hadn't dreamed of stepping inside. With Fang by her side, she was equipped to handle herself, but every bone in her body screamed at her to stay away from it. So she had. She'd let the warriors handle that. It's what they were here for, if nothing else.

Her pondering was broken as someone started yelling. Her head turned, not finding the source. Worry filled her chest. Fang was soon at her side, lance raised.

"What was that?" she inquired, forest green eyes darting everywhere as people began to run past them—women, children. Their Chief soon appeared, looking strong and ready for whatever was coming, his own blue and white lance poised. His long brown hair was now pulled back and tied with a string of beads, much like Vanille's.

"Fang, with me. Vanille, usher the children down to the stream. Keep them occupied. There's a behemoth at our border."

Vanille's heart skipped a beat at the Chief's words. A behemoth? Here? The mere thought of such a creature sent a shiver down her spine. She had heard stories of them—massive, unstoppable beasts with the power to tear through entire villages. The very idea of one so close to their camp was enough to stir panic in the most seasoned warriors, let alone the children she was now tasked with protecting.

She nodded quickly, her expression serious despite the fear gnawing at her insides. "Understood," she replied, her voice steady, though her mind raced with the implications. She glanced at Fang, who met her gaze with a confident nod, her lance ready and her eyes sharp with determination. Fang was in her element, and that gave Vanille some comfort.

Her instincts kicked into high gear. She tightened her grip on her lance, the familiar weight of the weapon grounding her as she prepared for the fight ahead. Her mind focused sharply on the task, pushing aside any stray thoughts or fears. There was no room for hesitation now—only action.

Moving swiftly, Fang followed the Chief toward the forest's edge, her eyes scanning the treeline for any sign of the behemoth. The creature's roar still echoed in her ears, a deep, guttural sound that reverberated through the earth. She knew they were about to face something powerful, something that could easily tear through their defenses if they weren't careful. She gulped.

As they neared the forest, Fang could see the other warriors already in position, their faces grim but determined. They formed a loose perimeter, weapons at the ready, waiting for the first sight of the creature. Having never seen one before, Fang had no idea what to expect. She had read textbooks—well, Vanille had read them to her growing up—so she could summarize its weak points, but there had never been any pictures.

That didn't matter now. It was coming for them, and Fang wouldn't allow it to destroy what they were slowly building. It could be a good life for her here, a better one. She could even end up being the Chief. She gritted her teeth and positioned herself at the front, right beside her father, her body coiled like a spring ready to strike.

The forest, usually so still and quiet, seemed alive with tension. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig, set the warriors on edge. Fang's eyes narrowed, her senses heightened, as she peered into the dense underbrush. Then, she saw it—a massive shape moving through the shadows, the ground trembling beneath its weight.

The behemoth emerged from the forest with a roar that shook the very air around them. It was even larger than Fang had imagined, its muscled body covered in thick, matted fur, with sharp tusks protruding from its massive jaws. Its eyes glowed with a primal rage, fixed on the small group of warriors standing in its path. It seemed to glow as it dug its claws into the dirt, readying itself to attack.

Without waiting for the Chief's signal, Fang surged forward, her lance poised to strike. She knew she had to be fast, precise—there was no room for error. With a powerful leap, she closed the distance between herself and the behemoth, aiming for a vulnerable spot just beneath its thick neck.

The lance struck true, but the behemoth barely flinched, its hide too tough for a single blow to take it down. It let out a furious bellow, swiping at Fang with one massive claw. She dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding the attack, and quickly repositioned herself for another strike.

The other warriors joined the fray, attacking the behemoth from all sides, trying to distract it and weaken it. Fang kept moving, using her agility to stay out of the creature's reach while searching for an opening. She could see the Chief leading the charge, his lance striking again and again with precision and force. He was strong, dodging with ease, his arms tensing with the weight of his blade.

xXx

As the distant roar of the behemoth echoed through the camp, Lightning's eyes snapped open. The pain that had once gripped her body was now dulled, replaced by a burning determination. She wasn't at full strength, nowhere near it, but she couldn't just lie down, disregarding the obvious panic from the people outside. Ignoring the protests of her battered body, Lightning forced herself to sit up, wincing as the movement pulled at her bandaged wounds. Some bandages slipped off as she sat, her stomach tensed.

Noticing her bindings had been removed, she was curious who had done it but had no time to ponder as she pulled herself to her feet. She stood, steadying herself against the fabric walls of the tent. The warmth from the fire pit still lingered on her skin. Step by step, she moved, opening the tent and looking off into the distance. Just as the trees started to thicken, she spotted the beast. Her stomach dropped, and she glanced around, searching for anything she could use to attack it.

Knowing exactly what it was—she'd fought them numerous times in her Guardian Corps simulation combat training—she searched for a spear. Finding one quickly, she made her way toward the gathering mob.

She stumbled at first, her legs weak from injury and disuse, but she gritted her teeth and pushed through the pain. Each step became easier, fueled by the rising adrenaline and her soldier's instinct.

Her azure eyes narrowed as she assessed the situation. The behemoth was massive, its thick hide deflecting most of the blows aimed at it. But it wasn't invincible—she could see the places where it had been wounded, where the warriors' attacks had begun to wear it down.

She spotted Fang in the midst of the fray, moving with the deadly grace of a seasoned fighter. Her lance struck the behemoth again and again, but the creature refused to fall. Lightning knew she had to move fast.

With a deep breath, Lightning charged forward, her spear raised. She closed the distance between herself and the behemoth in a few swift strides, her focus narrowing to a single point. The beast turned its head toward her, its eyes filled with rage, but she didn't flinch. Instead, she launched herself into the air, bringing her weapon down in a powerful arc. Unfamiliar with spears, it struggled in her grip, but she struck true. It sliced into the behemoth's thick hide with a force that sent shockwaves through Lightning's arms. The creature let out a deafening roar, its massive body lurching in pain. But it wasn't enough. The beast swung its head, its tusks aiming to impale her where she was gripping.

Lightning twisted out of the way just in time, rolling to her feet as the behemoth's attack missed her by inches. She could feel the ground shake beneath her as the beast's massive weight shifted, but she kept moving, searching for another opening.

She couldn't afford to stop—not now.

Fang saw her and, for a split second, their eyes met. There was surprise there, but also a glimmer of mutual respect.

With a wordless understanding, Fang and Lightning coordinated their attacks. While Fang struck low, aiming to destabilize the behemoth's legs, Lightning went high, targeting its head and neck. The behemoth, caught between the two skilled warriors, struggled to keep up with their relentless assault. It started to slow, growing weaker as they attacked with precision, as if in an intricate dance.

Lightning could see the toll their attacks were taking, the once-mighty creature now bleeding from multiple wounds. But it was still dangerous, still capable of delivering a killing blow if they weren't careful. The thought nearly brought her to her knees. Her weakened body began to feel fatigued as the seconds dragged on.

Fang delivered a powerful strike to the beast's leg, causing it to stagger and fall to one knee. Lightning saw her chance. With a final burst of energy, she leaped onto the behemoth's back, driving her spear deep into its neck. The creature let out a strangled roar, thrashing violently as it tried to shake her off, but Lightning held firm, grunting with every swing of its massive head.

The behemoth's movements grew slower, its roars fading to low, guttural sounds. And then, with one last shuddering breath, it collapsed to the ground, its massive form lying still at last.

Panting and exhausted, Lightning slid off the behemoth's back, landing heavily on the ground beside it. She looked up at Fang, who was standing over the fallen creature, her lance still poised, ready for any final signs of life. But the battle was over. The behemoth was dead.

For a moment, there was only silence, the warriors around them catching their breath, their faces a mix of relief and disbelief. Then, slowly, the camp began to stir, the reality of their victory sinking in, and the one who helped win it.

Fang walked over to Lightning, her expression unreadable. Panting in the aftermath.

"You didn't have to do that," she said, her usually vivacious tone neutral, but there was a hint of something else—something akin to gratitude. But Lightning couldn't tell. Honestly, her vision was starting to blur as the wounds on her stomach and back reopened, her bandages seeping with blood.

Warm hands were suddenly placed on her back. Her eyes shifted, and she struggled in surprise before a voice stopped her.

"Wait. Let me help."

Vanille? A warm blue glow began to encompass her midriff, and her vision started to clear. The pain lessened, and Lightning leaped away from Vanille as it dawned on her.

That was magic. She was using magic. But that wasn't possible unless… She was a L'Cie.

Reviews are better than oxygen! Sorry for any mistakes, I don't have a beta, but if anyone would be willing to read through it for me that would be awesome :) Have a great one, folks!

Until next time