INTERIOR – Room inside an abandoned mineshaft dungeon, contains decrepit empty lockboxes and rusted spare pickaxes. There is a rge hole in the ceiling in the center of the room, which leads all the way up to the surface (atop a hill)

  PRESENT – THE GIRL (clinging to the walls of the hole, smirking and looking down at the boy with a sparkle in her eyes.) THE BOY (wearing part of a decrepit lockbox on his head like an open-faced helmet, currently assuming a cartoony fighting stance.) Along with three Bandits, currently surrounding him menacingly. One burly, the other two less burly.

  TIME – Not dark yet.

  The boy charged first at the weakest looking Bandit – A male-shaped one, with a small, chipped and rusty bde.

  It would be illogical to assume another opportunity would be given to him. The best course of action would be to quickly incapacitate just one, and use the opening to flee.

  The boy wasn’t overconfident, his movements were backed by sound reasoning and careful observation. He might not know how to fight, but there was one thing he did understand: Basic anatomy of the human male.

  He charged, and raised his leg like a soaring axe between the legs of the man-bandit, aiming for the small, hose-like growth that was barely obscured by its furs.

  Collision.

  There was some light ughter, and the boy was shoved to the ground.

  The boy let out a small noise as air was forcefully expelled from his body.

  It appeared that the boy’s ideas about sensitive male anatomy did not apply to Bandits. Noted.

  The Bandit he attempted to kick in the nuts giggled and dug its foot into the boy’s stomach. The other two stepped beside, and began kicking the boy’s helpless body, especially aiming for his ribs.

  It was a decidedly unpleasant feeling.

  Still, knowledge was gained. Bandits, these three at least, while violent, were not motivated only to kill. No, their drive appeared to be primarily based around pain and humiliation. Further observation would be required.

  The boy noted these things has he helplessly waved his limp and shattered noodle arm around in an attempt to defend himself however he could.

  It was not particurly effective. Within moments, red liquid poured out from the boy’s mouth and ears, and whatever other holes he remembered he had.

  From above, a pair of eyes rolled so hard one could almost hear it. This was accompanied by a loud sigh, which was actually just hearable. As was the following groan.

  “UUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH…”

  She held this groan for well over a minute. All the while, the boy was getting beaten senselessly.

  “…GGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHUUH.” She eventually concluded, while the boy was miraculously still conscious. While one might be lead to believe this was a dispy of inhuman resilience, he had been long since out of fighting shape. He lost faster, even, than the average human would have. “I GUESS it was dumb to assume you could take on three at once.”

  “Perhaps.” The boy managed to utter while still getting beaten, as the girl dropped down from the hole in the ceiling.

  As she fell, she produced a long, deadly pointy icicle out of thin air.

  “Don’t get cocky.” She told him as she went to work.

  Ordinarily, this would be a chance for the girl to show off how gracefully she can move along the battlefield, treating bloodshed and animal violence like a brilliant and elegant dance, coming out the other side with nary a scratch on her as the bodies of her unfortunate victims colpse into eternal silence…

  But, in this scenario, the Bandits were pretty distracted, and they were low-rent trash mobs in the first pce. They were downed in one or two hits apiece, with the girl taking care to break their limbs once they fell.

  Except for one, the burly one with the pickaxes, who she merely left bound with shackles of dirt after shoving him to the ground.

  It wasn’t a strong use of magic, anyone with magic ability would be able to counter it, but she assumed that this wasn’t kind of Bandit with any magical capabilities. She was correct, it stayed down. Like a good Bandit.

  The girl lifted the boy up, commanded the mud in front of the door to fall, and dragged the wounded boy out into the cave. Once they were on the other side, she threw her icicle like a javelin at the broken-limbed Bandits, and took great pleasure in watching their bodies explode into balls of fme. Then, she repced the muddy barricade, blocking off the little room once more.

  “You suck really bad, Bug.” She said as she dropped his limp body on the dirt.

  “i have been made aware, hat.”

  “A child would’ve put up a better fight.” She used various hand movements to accentuate her words. “A dumb, stupid child, even. I know you don’t have one, but do you even know how to hold a weapon?”

  “i do not.”

  “WOW.” She’d expected this, but it was still shocking somehow. “You’d think that someone like you would at least have cool magic, especially considering your mysterious origin, but… I mean, I guess this isn’t anything we didn’t already find out, but… I dunno, I was hoping you’d surprise me. I guess I was expecting it.”

  “Paradoxical.”

  “Yeah.” She nodded. “A bit.”

  . . .

  “Well, I can’t heal this.” The girl said, looking down at him with a bit of a slouch.

  “oh no.”

  “Well, I can, but it’s a particur spell, takes like 8 hours of rest to work.”

  “oh.”

  “Yeah.”

  “should we return to base?” The boy was unsure how he was going to move, but he was sure they’d find a way.

  “No. No way you can move like that, and I’m sure as heck not carrying you.”

  Never mind.

  “I’m gonna go to town and get you a bedroll. Don’t die or get kidnapped while I’m gone.” The girl immediately turned and began making her way back outside.

  “i will try.”

  “You better.”

  Before long, the girl was gone.

  The boy was left alone in the dirt.

  . . .

  . . .

  He’d be there for some time. Alone. Unable to move, or do much of anything. The nearest town was pretty far away.

  . . .

  . . . . . .. . . … . . .

  Many ellipsis ter, and the boy began to think that it’d be nice if he had some softness to rest on. One might say, in fact, that he desired it.

  . . . The girl said that magic had a lot to do with desire, right?

  . . .

  It was worth a go. For the pursuit of knowledge, if nothing else.

  He couldn’t move super acutely, but his noodle arm was just as noodly as ever, and his ‘good’ arm could… Move. Some.

  The girl said that movements and chants were important, especially for low-power scrubs. People like her, who’ve had a lot of practice and training, could do magic without movements or sound, but he was decided not like her.

  He wriggled his noodle arm and his fingers, as his ‘good’ arm twitched around.

  But what chant should he do?

  . . .

  Whatever came to his head first, he decided.

  “Magic. Go. Abracadabra. Please.”

  As he did the moves and said the words, to his surprise, a font of gray magic energy opened up in front of him.

  “Magic. Go. Abracadabra. Please. Magic. Go...”

  Slowly, as he kept up his movements and his chanting, the font of grey matter grew bigger and bigger until…

  Poof.

  A soft, fluffy white pillow. Not unlike the ones on a bed.

  With great effort, he lifted the pillow and moved it behind his head.

  . . .

  “Ah…” He cooed.

  Soft.

  This was good. Very good, indeed.