Mirelle's screams rip me from dreamless sleep, my body lurching upward before my brain fully engages. The carriage rocks violently beneath us, wood splintering with an ear-splitting crack. "WAKE UP!" she shouts, electric blue hair wild with static as she grabs me around the waist. My world turns upside down as she hauls me bodily from the carriage, leaping into open air with me tucked against her chest like a child's doll. We hit the ground hard, her armor taking the brunt of the impact as we roll across dirt and scattered stones. My lungs empty on contact, leaving me gasping like a landed fish. "What's happening?" I manage through desperate gulps of air, my head still fuzzy with interrupted sleep. Mirelle sets me on my feet, steadying me with a firm grip on my shoulder. "We've got trouble. An Ogre." I follow her gaze across the trampled grass to where three of our fellow guards form a defensive line, weapons raised against a monstrosity that makes my blood run cold. Towering at least ten feet tall, skin like weathered granite, the ogre bellows its rage to the sky. My wooden staff practically leaps into my hands as I pull it from its harness, the familiar warmth pulsing against my palms. "Should I shoot it with fire?" I ask, already channeling energy into the weapon. "No," Mirelle says firmly, her own thunder staff crackling with blue electricity. "Focus on staying safe. If I need healing, I'll tell you." I nod, swallowing down the sudden dryness in my throat as the ogre swings a massive club fashioned from what looks like an entire tree trunk. One of the guards barely dodges the devastating blow, the ground trembling as the makeshift weapon gouges a crater where she stood moments before. The beast hasn't reached the carriages yet, but it's only a matter of time. The merchants are frantically trying to calm their panicked horses, some already cutting harnesses to escape faster. "Get back!" Mirelle yells, pushing me toward the overturned carriage. She whips her thunder staff forward, taking aim at the ogre's massive head. Blue lightning erupts from the tip, crackling through the air with a deafening boom. The bolt strikes the ogre square between its eyes, sending it staggering backward with a howl that shakes the leaves from nearby trees. Its massive hands clutch at its smoking face, momentarily blinded by the attack. The other guards seize the opportunity, darting forward with practiced coordination. One slashes at the creature's hamstring while another drives a spear into its exposed flank. Dark blood spatters the trampled grass as the ogre roars in pain and fury. "Now's our chance!" Mirelle shouts, her blue hair standing on end with static electricity. She turns to me, eyes wild with battle lust. "Keep up with me!" Before I can respond, she's sprinting toward the wounded ogre, her thunder staff already gathering another deadly charge. I hesitate for just a moment before following, wooden staff clutched tightly in my sweating palms. The ogre, recovering from Mirelle's first attack, sees her charging and makes a split-second decision. With a grunt of effort, it hurls its massive club directly at her. The weapon spins through the air like a deadly windmill, but Mirelle dives and rolls, the club missing her by yards. I'm so focused on Mirelle that I don't realize the club is still airborne and heading straight for me. Time slows as I watch death spinning toward my face, too late to dodge, too shocked to scream. Something slams into my legs from the side, sweeping them out from under me. I hit the ground hard, pain exploding through my hip and shoulder as I skid across dirt and rocks. The massive club whooshes overhead, close enough that I feel the displaced air ruffle my hair before it crashes into the trees behind me. Stunned and winded, I look up to see who saved me. A familiar scarred face stares back at me, one eye milky white and unseeing, the other sharp with calculation. Vessa crouches beside me, her flame-red braid dangling as she extends a hand. "You're welcome," she says, her raspy voice somehow audible over the ogre's roars. "Now get the fuck up before that thing decides to use you as a toothpick." I stare at her outstretched hand, paralyzed by confusion. "What are you doing here?" "Saving your ungrateful ass, apparently." She grabs my wrist and hauls me to my feet, ignoring my gasp of pain as the curse freezes my body. "Oh shit, sorry about that," she mutters, quickly releasing me. Control rushes back into my limbs as Vessa releases me, but my mind remains frozen in confusion. Her apology rings hollow in my ears. This is the same woman who tried to strip me in front of her entire bandit crew, who would have violated me if Jhone hadn't shown up. And now she's saving my life? "Why would you…" I start to ask, but my words are drowned by a deafening thunderclap. The sky itself seems to split open as Mirelle unleashes her most powerful attack yet. A massive bolt of lightning, thick as a tree trunk and blinding white at its core, strikes the ogre dead center. The creature's roar transforms into a gurgling scream as electricity courses through its massive body, muscles spasming violently. The air fills with the sickening smell of burnt hair and cooking meat. The ogre sways for a moment, its eyes rolling back to show only whites, before crashing to the ground with enough force to make the earth tremble beneath my feet. Smoke rises from its charred flesh, wisps of gray curling toward the sky like departing spirits. Mirelle turns immediately, her gaze finding me across the trampled grass. Relief floods her face for just an instant before her eyes lock onto Vessa standing beside me. Her expression transforms in a heartbeat to fury, her electric blue hair practically standing on end with crackling energy. She sprints toward us, thunder staff still glowing with residual power. The other guards gather around the ogre's massive corpse, some poking it cautiously with spears to ensure it's truly dead, others already discussing how to butcher the valuable meat and harvest its tusks. "Get away from him," Mirelle snarls as she reaches us, positioning herself between me and Vessa like a shield. Her staff rises, pointed directly at Vessa's scarred face. Vessa raises her hands in a placating gesture, taking a deliberate step backward. "Easy there, Sparky. I just saved the Saint’s life." I watch Mirelle freeze, her body going rigid as if she's been struck by her own lightning. I'm frozen too, but not from the curse, from pure shock. How the hell does Vessa know I'm the Saint? "What did you just say?" Mirelle's voice drops to a dangerous whisper, her knuckles white around her thunder staff. Static electricity dances through her blue hair, each strand lifting as if gravity has suddenly reversed. Vessa sighs, her scarred face twisting into something that might be resignation. Her good eye flicks between us while her milky white one stares at nothing. "Look," she says, lowering her hands slightly, "we really need to talk.”