The fall had cost them weeks.
The path Pinky had planned to take was now far above them, unreachable without proper climbing equipment. He would have to find another route through this unfamiliar territory.
He studied his map, trying to make sense of the terrain. Everything looked the same. Trees. Rocks. More trees. He was lost.
Then he saw them.
Three figures huddled at the base of a cliff. Humanoid, but not human. Their bodies were translucent, shimmering like water in the fading light. Slimes. Monster slimes, but in feminine form.
They looked up as he approached.
Fear flooded their faces.
The one with the half-ponytail stepped forward, putting herself between Pinky and her sisters. Her body shook, but her voice was steady.
"If you're going to do it," she said, "do it to me. Leave them alone."
Pinky stopped. He studied them more closely now. The bruises on their translucent skin. The fear in their eyes. The way they flinched at his slightest movement.
He knew what had happened. He didn't need to ask.
Slowly, he raised his hands. Non-threatening. Palms open. He pointed at himself, then made a gesture like holding a map, then pointed in several directions with a questioning tilt of his head.
I'm lost. Which way to the eastern road?
The slimes stared at him, confused.
"What's he doing?" the short-haired one whispered.
"I don't know," the long-haired one replied. "Some kind of signal?"
Lyriel bounced up beside him. "Oh! He's saying we're here to help! Don't worry, little slimes, my husband and I will protect you!"
Pinky's eye twitched. That was absolutely not what he said.
But Lyriel was already kneeling beside the slimes, hands glowing with healing magic. "Look at these bruises! Who did this to you? How cruel! Don't worry, I'll fix you right up!"
The slimes looked at each other, uncertain.
"She's... healing us?" the short-haired one said.
"Why?" the defiant one asked, suspicion clear in her voice.
"Because you're hurt, silly!" Lyriel chirped. "That's what healers do!"
Pinky watched for a moment. Then he sighed silently and began setting up camp.
He might as well rest here for the night. Figure out the route tomorrow. Train a bit before continuing his journey.
He found a clear area, set down his pack, and began going through his warm-up exercises. Simple movements. Stretches. Basic sword forms.
The slimes watched him.
"What's he doing?" the short-haired one asked.
"Training," the long-haired one said. Her voice held something new. Interest. "Look at his form. It's perfect."
"Is he... teaching us?" the defiant one asked slowly.
"Maybe he's our protector," the short-haired one whispered. "Like in the stories. A knight who comes to save monsters from humans."
"Don't be stupid," the defiant one snapped. "Knights kill monsters. They don't save them."
"But he hasn't hurt us," the long-haired one pointed out. "And his companion healed us."
They fell silent, watching the pink-haired knight move through his forms, the firelight casting long shadows across the cliff face.
Pinky finished his training and sat by the fire.
Lyriel had fallen asleep against his pack, exhausted from healing. The slimes remained at the edge of the firelight, watching, waiting.
The long-haired one spoke first. "I'm Lizy. These are my sisters, Mimi and Wixi."
Pinky nodded in acknowledgment.
"You're really not going to hurt us?" Mimi asked, the short-haired one, her voice barely above a whisper.
Pinky shook his head.
"Why?" Wixi demanded. "We're monsters. You're a knight. Isn't killing us your job?"
Pinky looked at her. Then he pointed at himself, then at them, then made a motion like sheathing a sword and crossing his arms.
No threat. No fight. No reason.
Lizy smiled, the first real smile any of them had shown. "I think he's saying we haven't done anything wrong."
"Since when do knights care about that?" Wixi muttered.
"Maybe this one is different," Mimi said softly.
Pinky leaned back against a rock and closed his eyes. Tomorrow, he would ask for directions. Tomorrow, he would continue his journey. Tomorrow, everything would go back to normal.
But for now, he let the warmth of the fire wash over him, let the sounds of the night settle into his bones.
He was tired.
And somewhere, far behind him, a silver-haired knight swung her sword at shadows, waiting for him to return.