Before we’d made it out of the yard, the first snow of the season began to fall. Not enough to settle, only enough to soften the world’s edges and turn the air into something precious.

  I lingered in the back of the wagon longer than I needed to, listening as the sound of travel changed around us. The horses’ shoes no longer rang sharp against the cobblestones, and the wheels lost their rattle, the noise of them all fading gently as flakes gathered in the air. Even voices seemed to carry less, as if the snow caught them before they could travel far.

  Someone remarked that the road would be slower now. Another wondered aloud whether we should have waited. I listened without answering, aware that I didn’t really know what snow meant for travel beyond the things people assumed about it. I had never gone far in it before. What I knew was that it made everything feel quieter, and somehow kinder.

  I had always loved the snow. It came now, of all times, when I was holding too many new worries without knowing quite what to do with them yet. A family I had only just begun to belong to. A love that had not faded at all, only grown quieter and more distant. I didn’t dwell on either. I let the falling snow sit between me and those thoughts, just for a moment.

  When I finally climbed up to the bench beside Nadine, Altivo fell in step close to the wheel, alert but calm, his attention on me rather than the road ahead. I reached over to scratch behind his ear.

  “Are you all right?” Nadine asked. “You look a little lost in thought.”

  I smiled at her. “I am. I think I let the snow carry me off for a moment.”

  “Anything you want to talk about?”

  I shook my head. “No. It was all very pretty and not especially useful.”

  “That,” Mara, the scout, said promptly, “is something we can all relate to, being around Tomas so often.”

  A muffled bark of laughter came from nearby. “I am deeply useful,” Tomas said. “Just not quietly.”

  I turned at his voice, careful to keep my hood low as I did. The big man had a warm grin on his face as he watched the road ahead. The kind that made me want to smile along with him.

  Nadine laughed softly, reins steady in her hands. “See? Perfectly practical company.”

  They continued to joke and tease, managing to stay professionally alert the entire time. They were close enough to be careless with each other, which made them easier to read. It also meant that if something went wrong, I would have to be very careful. But until that happened, it was nice to have them traveling with us.

  Their leader, Roderick, was the most serious and reserved of the three, but they all talked easily enough, with Mara poking them and even Nadine pretty consistently. It felt like a practice in keeping a conversation going to pass the time more than a serious conversation, but somehow it just worked. I stayed quiet, but no one seemed to mind, and that alone was enough to make me feel included.

  Just as I was getting comfortable watching trees turn white, Mara glanced back at me.

  “You’re awfully quiet for someone who looks like she’s enjoying the snow.”

  “I am,” I said. “I just like listening.”

  She nodded slowly, a mock-solemn look on her face. “So long as it’s listening and not watching.”

  Nadine barked a laugh in surprise, then reached over and picked up my book, holding it up for Mara's inspection. “Let’s not jump to any conclusions.”

  “Hey!” I objected, not quite able to sound offended.

  The laughter faded naturally, settling back into the quiet rhythm of the road.

  “If this turns wet, I’m going to regret every life choice I’ve ever made,” Tomas muttered into the quiet that followed.

  “At least it’ll keep the dust down,” Mara said.

  Roderik glanced ahead, then to either side of the road, “Traffic’s been lighter, even before the weather.”

  “This road gets dangerous this far out," Mara said. "I've heard it's people turning back, or taking longer routes. Depends who you ask.”

  “And who are you asking?” Nadine said lightly, as if it were idle curiosity.

  Mara shrugged. “Rumors are pouring in from everywhere. Merchants mostly. Pilgrims too, when you find them. It's not just here. Valoria’s supposed to be worse than the stories, but no one can quite agree on how.”

  “The Oracle being gone hasn’t helped,” Tomas added. “Makes people nervous.”

  “Missing,” Roderik corrected. “Gone makes it sound permanent.”

  “You can call it whatever you want. It's got everyone worried,” Mara said. “I’ve heard the Church is reacting the worst. Nothing official, but plenty of temporary measures. You know how that goes.”

  Nadine hummed softly at that, the sound thoughtful rather than dismissive.

  I listened closely, the earlier drift gone entirely. They spoke the way people do when they aren’t sure what to believe yet, only that something important is shifting beneath their feet.

  “There’s talk of a Prophet, too,” Mara went on. “Someone throwing their weight around and talking about changes.”

  Tomas snorted. “The Church already has a prophet. She’s called the Oracle. Anyone else saying something like that would just be heresy.”

  “Sure,” Mara said. “But this one’s supposedly got several cardinals backing them.” She tipped her head, half-amused. “I even heard the king might step in over it. Quite the scandal.”

  Her tone stayed light, but her fingers worried briefly at the strap of her quiver as she spoke.

  Nadine didn’t comment right away. Her gaze stayed forward, thoughtful, as if she were sorting the pieces before deciding which mattered.

  “And the Saint?” she asked at last. “Are people still talking about her?”

  There was a brief pause. It didn't feel uncomfortable, only careful.

  “Depends who you’re listening to,” Mara said. “Some are calling her the Red Saint now. Or the Saint of Blood. Things that sound just official enough to get arguments started.”

  “Saints don’t name themselves,” Tomas said.

  No one disagreed.

  Nadine tilted her head slightly. “I’ve heard a few rumors about her,” she said. “Red Saint makes sense, with the wings. But where did Blood Saint come from?”

  Mara hesitated, just for a breath. “That’s the part no one agrees on. There are a lot of stories, I think all reaching back to Valoria.”

  Roderik spoke this time. “People don’t like miracles they don’t control. And with what happened, blood gives it a story. Sacrifice. Judgment. It's something they can argue about.”

  I stayed quiet, hood low, listening to how they spoke more than what they said. There was no fervor in it, no fear either. Just careful voices and half-formed opinions, turned over and set aside again. Some of the worry I'd carried since we'd hired them faded as the conversation went on, until finally, I felt comfortable enough to join the conversation.

  “If Saints were allowed to choose,” I said, “I doubt anyone would settle on Blood Saint. Red Saint at least has a nicer ring to it.”

  Nadine glanced sideways at me, one brow lifting. There was a hint of amusement there, and a little concern.

  “Careful,” she said. “You’re going to convince people you’ve put more thought into this than is strictly necessary.”

  Mara huffed a quiet laugh. “She’s not wrong. Blood Saint sounds like something a committee argued into existence after she made them angry.”

  “Or a warning label,” Tomas added. “Big red letters. Don’t touch.”

  Roderik gave a thoughtful nod. “Names like that stick because they’re simple. Doesn’t mean they’re accurate.”

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  Nadine’s mouth curved faintly at that, and she flicked the reins once, settling the horses back into their rhythm.

  “She just prefers Red Saint," she said, amusement warming her voice, “because she thinks it sounds like a love story. Hopeless romantic, my cousin.”

  “That’s not what I said,” I objected, unable to keep the smile out of my voice.

  “Nothing wrong with that,” Mara said, ignoring me. “Better than being memorable for the wrong reasons. Love does have a better reputation than blood.”

  Tomas snorted. “Depends who you ask.”

  Something about the road seemed to narrow and empty as the snow continued. It wasn't anything that happened all at once, but steadily enough that I noticed the absences before I noticed who remained. A wagon ahead of us turned off toward a narrower side road, the driver lifting a hand in a half-hearted wave as he went. Another passed us heading back the way we’d come, cart piled high and urging their team faster than the road or weather seemed to warrant.

  “Decided not to chance it,” Tomas said, watching them go.

  “Maybe, but I recognize them from the tavern last night. I think they just wanted to see me again,” Mara replied with a wink.

  There were still travelers on the road, but fewer of them now, and more space between each meeting. Voices carried only briefly before fading again, swallowed by the snow and open distance. Something about it made the road lengthen, stretched thin without feeling empty. I found I didn’t mind the quiet. It made the miles feel like something we were crossing together, rather than passing through a crowd.

  We stopped for lunch near a low stand of trees that broke the wind just enough to be worth the pause. With only a brief conversation, Nadine and I decided we should do something about the cold before it slowed our progress like the others we were passing along the way. What was meant to be an hour stretched longer as Nadine and I unpacked our things, neither of us quite willing to rush the work once we’d begun.

  Nadine moved methodically, fingers quick and sure as she worked small charms from cord and scrap. She tied them to tack and bridles, murmuring softly as she went, the sort of magic meant to turn biting wind aside and keep cold from settling too deeply. She made no distinction between mounts and people, slipping the last charm beneath a horse’s mane with the same care she gave the rest.

  I worked beside her, setting up my kit and brewing quietly. The elixirs I prepared were not meant for immediate use. I sealed them carefully, labeling each before setting it aside. They were nothing so advanced, simple cold-resistance, but strong enough to keep someone moving when they otherwise shouldn’t be able to. When Mara asked, I explained, and she agreed having a stockpile in case of emergency would make everyone feel more at ease.

  Altivo stood a short distance away, watching the road rather than us. He flicked an ear in my direction once, then again when the minutes stretched on. When the hour passed, he shifted his weight and snorted softly.

  “I know,” I murmured, as much to him as to myself.

  He did not look convinced.

  We all worked together to cover the horses with their blankets, setting the tack back in place once everything was ready. By the time we packed everything away again, the light had shifted and the snow had gathered a little more insistently along the edges of the road. An hour and a half gone, but the horses were calmer for it, and the warmth held better beneath our cloaks.

  When we set off again, the road felt quieter for the stop, the rhythm of travel settling back in beneath us. Deciding it was safe enough, I swung up onto Altivo’s back and let him settle into a steady walk beside the wagon. It was more comfortable than the bench, and close enough that I could still hear the conversation without needing to raise my voice.

  Snow gathered slowly along his mane and the edge of my cloak as we went, the world narrowing to the quiet space between hoofbeats and turning wheels. From here, I could see farther down the road, and the trees as they leaned inward beneath their growing white.

  “Better view up there?” Mara asked, glancing back.

  I nodded. “And more room to think.”

  Tomas eyed Altivo with open approval. “Can’t blame you. Warmer, too, I imagine. Before you all made these charms, I was starting to wonder how you were dealing with this chill in that skirt.”

  I looked down at the bit of bare skin peeking out from between my skirt and boots from where my cloak shifted, and pulled it tighter.

  "I am doing quite well, thank you."

  “You’re the only one complaining,” Nadine said, needling him. “Even Altivo’s doing just fine, and he's only recently gotten his blanket.”

  Altivo flicked an ear at that, as if in agreement.

  Roderik nudged his mare a little closer, his voice carrying without effort. “You’ve traveled much?”

  “Some,” I said. "I'm still getting used to it, honestly."

  “You’re picking up enough to look like you know what you’re doing,” he replied. “It’s a good start.”

  I inclined my head slightly. "Most of my travel wasn't by choice. I've been picking it up as I go along."

  Mara peeked over, her eyes sparkling as if she'd just caught scent of some enticing new story. “That so?”

  I only shrugged. “Not much of a story.” Then, before she could press, I nodded toward her. “What about you? You sound like you’ve been around.”

  “Careful,” Tomas said. “That’s how you get Mara started on her stories.”

  "Oh?" I said, looking between them. "I like stories. What is wrong with that?"

  Tomas groaned, and Roderik sighed like a man already resigned to his fate, but Mara perked up immediately. "Now, that's what I like to hear! These two can be so boring. But I've certainly got some tales."

  For a while, she regaled us with stories of her early life as an adventurer, starting nearly ten years ago, back when she was sixteen. As fantastical as they were, I couldn't tell where reality ended and embellishment began, but they were fun regardless. Only when Tomas begged for mercy did the talk drift to smaller things—the state of the road ahead, whether the snow would hold, which towns were worth stopping in and which ones never were.

  It was all interesting to me, and the easy familiarity of it tugged at memories of the first group of adventurers I’d traveled with. It was the kind of conversation that let the miles pass without being counted.

  The more we traveled, the more the snow began to stick. It slowed us, but not enough to be real trouble. The horses had to work harder as the wagon wheels pushed a shallow bow wave of snow along the road, but the enchantments Nadine had made did their quiet work, keeping the cold from settling too deeply and the strain from building too quickly.

  We stopped a few extra times to clear snow from hooves and let the horses rest, but even so, we still expected to reach the next town before evening.

  Not everyone shared that confidence. They were rare, but we passed a handful of small camps set just off the road, mostly adventurers who had decided to wait out the weather. They must have trusted their own strength to sleep outside a wall with everything going on, or perhaps they were hunting something worth the risk.

  To me, they were just a little extra scenery in the white, and I enjoyed the smell of their campfires.

  "Brave souls," Tomas commented as we passed a camp with only four occupants, all wrapped tight in heavy cloaks. Two were minding the fire and food over it, while the others watched the road, giving us a casual nod as we passed.

  I nodded, "At least they're well provisioned. Those tents look thick and expensive."

  Mara gestured further up the road. "I don't think they're as alone as it seems."

  I followed her motion and made out a much larger camp in the distance. It was little more than shadows through the spindrift and falling snow, but there must have been dozens of people gathered there.

  “Lookouts?” I guessed.

  Mara nodded.

  I frowned slightly, eyes lingering on the shapes ahead. “I wonder who they are, and what they’re doing out here.”

  Nadine glanced back toward the sentries we’d just passed, then around the cart. “Those cloaks look like what the Crusaders issue their squires.”

  “More heretics, you think?” I wondered aloud, and immediately wished I hadn’t.

  Nadine shot me a sharp look before carefully checking the others. The silence stretched on for several long seconds before Roderik finally answered.

  “No,” he said. “Those ones have taken to wearing a brass nine-pointed star.”

  I lifted the tip of my hood just enough to see his expression, but it was calm and unconcerned.

  "I haven't seen anything like that, yet." I said, hoping to hear more.

  He glanced at me, then back ahead. "You will," he said.

  "They have people traveling around," Mara said, joining the conversation with far less caution. "No one wants to talk about it. Some people have gone missing after arguing with them."

  "That's horrible!" Nadine said, looking between each of them as if making sure they were being serious. "We've been trying to catch rumors… How did we miss this?"

  "Ah," Mara said. "That's the thing. If you know, you know not to talk about it in unfamiliar company. Most people don't seem to realize what's happening—the small changes they're making to their sermons and doctrine. But they will, eventually."

  "You should be careful when we make it to Behrl's Ford tonight," Tomas added. "The entire church there seems to be following those new rules. Best if you just don't say anything about them at all."

  Nadine shifted uncomfortably. "Thank you for warning us. But maybe we should consider going around if that's the case. Those people are dangerous."

  Mara shot her a comforting grin. "I wouldn't worry about it. The kingdom has a garrison there as well for the river trade. They'll keep everything civil."

  I nodded, taking in the size of the camp ahead. "I think the best thing we can do is move through quickly."

  No one argued, and we grew quiet as we closed with the larger camp.

  It resolved slowly out of the blown snow, shape by shape, until it was no longer just a dark mass beside the road but a living thing, spread wide across the frozen ground. Tents stood in ordered rows, most of them cut from the same heavy cloth used by the Church’s crusaders and paladins, their lines straight and practical. Between them were others that didn’t quite match. Smaller and sometimes patched, but sturdy. They were marked with the stains and wear of rough travel, and even I could recognize them as belonging to experienced adventurers.

  All throughout the camp mixed banners hung stiff in the cold. Family crests beside ecclesiastical symbols, some vaguely familiar, though I held no illusion that I might recognize them.

  Sentries watched the road as we passed, alert but unchallenging. Not tense, but not bored either. This wasn’t a camp expecting battle, but it was one that knew danger existed. A few nodded to us as we went by, hands resting easily on spear shafts or sword hilts. Others stood with shields planted in the snow, speaking quietly to one another as they scanned the tree line.

  Beyond them, the camp moved with subdued purpose. Horses were being brushed down and checked for ice along their hooves. Someone was tightening traces on a wagon, breath fogging the air with each pull. Small fires burned low, carefully tended, more for warmth than light. Clergy moved among the tents, offering murmured words and quiet blessings against the chill. A handful of people knelt together near one fire, heads bowed, while others sat nearby sharpening blades or mending torn gloves and cloaks.

  It felt… deliberate. It was no convenient gathering against the storm, nor some kind of pilgrimage. This had the feel of people moving together with a purpose, more like an army setting camp early, before the snow could settle too deep.

  I became aware of how many eyes were on the road, and how few followed us as we passed. We were noted, cataloged, and dismissed. Whatever they were waiting for, it wasn’t us.

  “That’s a lot of people,” Tomas said quietly.

  “And not all Church,” Mara replied, her gaze moving from banner to banner. “Someone’s been very convincing. Or generous.”

  Nadine’s hands tightened just slightly on the reins. She leaned forward, eyes narrowing as she took in the details, the way the camp held itself together against the snow. Then she inhaled sharply. I followed her line of sight, my stomach tightening as a familiar silhouette took shape near the heart of the camp.

  Sir Cedric.

  Nadine turned toward me at once, pulling my hood lower as she did. She didn’t need to say a word.

  Altivo slowed without prompting, just enough for the wagon to drift ahead of us. I slid down from his side and into the back of the wagon as he moved around to the far side, falling in step there as if he had always been meant to walk that way.

  I moved quickly through the narrow space and took my seat behind Nadine’s bench, keeping my head low as I listened and watched through a thin gap between the canvas and the sidewall. The crunch of snow under the wheels filled my ears as I scanned the camp for the one face I wanted to see.

  Overpowers: Magical Girl Crossover, and it’s just a genuinely fun time!

  ? Overpowers: Magical Girl Crossover ?

  by Moawar

  He, Life, had a simple job.

  His responsibility as an Overpower was to make sure that fiction stories and the characters in them follow their dictated path. He always did his job well enough, not more or less than was needed.

  His latest assignment, however, would, in retrospect, prove to be his most challenging one of all.

  He would find himself in a unfamiliar world. There he'll have to quickly adapt to guide Nozomi.

  The strongest magical girl with the potential to accidentally destroy those she seeks to protect in her fight against evil.

  What to Expect: A love letter to fiction, where each relevant character represents a different genre in fiction with a few twists to make them fresh. Ex: Isekai, Shonen, Magical Girl, Tragedy, Cultivation, Regression, Tokusatsu, Horror, and many others. All are united under one theme: life and how each character will choose to live theirs.

  If you like the psychological aspects of Madoka Magica and the mixing of different genres a crossover story brings then this story is for you