Cedrik sat amongst the carnage. Another battle won, another army slaughtered. As a swordsman for higher, he had been in countless skirmishes. His side? The one that paid him.

He had been still for a while now, embracing the silence of the company of the dead. This was just another job well-done... So why did he feel dissatisfied? He should be sated, his own soul engorged from consuming the souls of the enemy. Yet, something ate at him from inside.

He finished cleaning his blade and sheathed his weapon. Standing, he attempted to shake off the ill feeling, but it persisted. With attentive steps, he began his slow crossing of the battlefield, the weight of his armor finally registering as the adrenaline faded from his system. He was without a contract once again and he didn't like to be idle.

As he pondered his options, he noted a lone figure roaming in the distance. Muscle memory told him to smite whoever it was, consume their soul, and continue on. But there was something about the way they moved.

Ultimately, curiosity won. A single opponent would bore him in combat anyway. This person certainly didn't carry themselves like a soldier, nor like that of an assassin. Cedrik relaxed slightly as he approached, until he realized the intruder was a young woman.

She was tall for a female, and with the bulkiness of her gear, it was easy to see how he had mistaken her for a man. But up close, her soft features betrayed her silhouette.

Cedrik stilled as she knelt in place. Why was she bowing? Did she think he was going to strike her down?

He hated how the image of it flashed in his mind. It was so easy to see himself running his sword right through her, as he had done to countless others.

Instead, she stood without acknowledging him and moved past. Then she knelt again. Was she trying to rob the bodies? Didn't she know that grunts don't carry valuables?

"Excuse me," the woman said as she knelt directly at Cedrik's sullied boots, paying no attention to the pool of blood that had yet to drain away. "You're irritatingly proficient in your work," she said, finally looking at him.

The way that she stared up at him, with those deep, ocean-blue eyes, it was like he was floating. Yes, she certainly was more interesting than he had expected.

Cedrik offered forward a gauntleted hand, which she accepted. He helped her stand, noting how her stained knees had darkened with saturation. Her boots were almost as coated with mud and viscera as his own, but her face and her hair were clean.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked.

She cocked her head to the side, unabashed in her inspection of him. "I'm looking for the Salvageable. The Atton Army isn't usually so... efficient," she said carefully.

"You're a Savior?"

"I don't like that term," she said quickly. "Call me Asa. And you must be Barrett?" she asked, her voice rising in question.

Cedrik's stomach twisted. Did it really matter that she assumed him to be another Wielder? "It's Cedrik," he said, hoping to end the awkwardness.

Instead, something shifted behind her eyes; a recognition that seemed to make her uncomfortable. "Well, Cedrik," she said with an even voice, "It seems, there is no one left for me to salvage. A good day for you is an unfortunate one for my employer."

She gave the armored man a nod then turned from him.

"Asa, wait," Cedrik said as he placed a hand on her shoulder. She stopped, waiting, staring, patient and polite, as he wracked his brain for a reason to keep her there other than simply not wanting to watch her walk away. "Aren't you going to do a scan?"

She gave him an incredulous look. "So you can boost your ego?"

"No, I didn't mean it like that. I just thought it was something Saviors- sorry, you guys, always did."

Her furrowed brows smoothed. "Would you like to watch, then?" she asked.

Her voice was inviting, making him wonder how he could keep her talking to him. "If you don't mind," he answered. He couldn't remember the last time he had watched a Savior perform a scan. There wasn't much point once he had done his part.

Asa nodded to him and they hiked up to the precipice that overlooked the battlefield. Sun glistened off of the armors that lay discarded, yet full, the warmth of their inhabitants fading with the hours. Soon, the bodies would be as cold as the steel that encompassed them.

"What does it feel like?" she asked, unprompted. "Consuming souls, I mean."

Cedrik shrugged, his armor shifting noisily. "Usually, it feels good. Satisfying, like a good meal, but without the taste or texture."

"'Usually?'" she prodded.

Cringing, Cedrik gestured out towards the empty bodies. "What about you? Do you... feel anything when you scan?" It wasn't the question he wanted to ask, but he was having a hard time finding the right words.

Asa nodded, her ponytail bouncing with the motion. "I can sum it up in one word: vertigo." She laughed it off but he could see she was simply better at masking than himself.

No one who specializes working this closely with the dead avoids carrying it with them in one way or another.

He allowed her silence so she could begin her task. It was a curious thing to watch a Savior work. She started by putting on a blindfold, then she raised her head to the sky and began her chant. Saviors were taught sacred words never to be shared with those not on the path of Salvation. Because of this, their chants were all done in whispers.

Cedrik watched quietly, as a golden light began to form around Asa. She moved her hands out around her, as if treading her fingers over the surface of water, and the light expanded out. It quickly enveloped him, pausing for the briefest of moments, before shooting out across the vast expanse before them.

Asa removed her blindfold to look out at the dullness of the battlefield before turning to Cedrik. Her brilliant blue eyes were welled with tears but she gave him a small smile nonetheless. "Your soul is beautiful," she said.

He looked down, seeing the flame-red burst of light that emanated from his chest. It was a stark contrast to the Savior's ice-blue one.

"You are beautiful too- your soul, it's beautiful." Cedrik felt the heat on the back of his neck. Why did she have to unnerve him so? Could he not face a lone woman when a whole battalion didn't cause him to blink an eye?

Asa turned to look back out across the open field. There was no light, no color, no souls that needed guidance. She had said it before, this Wielder was highly efficient. With acceptance, she wiped her eyes and dispersed her light.

"I must report in," she said while gingerly folding her blindfold.

Cedrik shifted his weight in anticipation. "Does your contract end here?" he asked, praying the hope didn't bleed into his voice.

Finally, a smile graced Asa's face. "It does," she said without elaboration.

"My contract has ended as well. I'll be heading to the capitol after this. We could travel together," he said in question.

"And how would that look? A Wielder and a Savior traveling together?"

Another noisy shrug. "I don't much care, to be honest."

Asa regarded him, a long thoughtful look overtaking her features before a chuckle erupted from her. "You're not like the other Wielders I've met."

Cedrik shook his head. "I can't really say the same. It's been a long time since I've crossed paths with one of your skillset."

"Then let our paths cross again and you may judge me against myself."

The warrior tried to wrap his head around her statement, but as she walked away, her message was clear. She was not going with him. And that hurt for some reason. "I'll look for you on the Royal Road," he called out to her.

He watched her silhouette shrink with the growing distance as he spoke to himself, stunned by his own infatuation. "I'll look for you, Asa."