So the boy set out walking along a road through the forest, because everyone knew that the forest was a good place to meet interesting people. Mostly because it was easier to hide from people coming to arrest you amongst the trees, and interesting people had a habit of getting arrested because the king objected to their interestingness.
Eventually, the boy came across a swordswoman battling a fierce hydra. Every time she cut off one of its heads, it grew two more. Presumably she hadn't walked away and let it get on with its multicranial lizardy business because of the fair youth it had pinned menacingly under one foot."
But the boy knew from his evil magic lessons that a hydra could only grow new heads from clean stumps, so he began using the magic that the sorcerer had taught him to snap the hydra's necks. Because even magic traditionally used for evil can do good, in the right hands."
'Thank you for helping me save my brother,' said the swordswoman. 'He's not normally this useless.'
The swordswoman's brother made a vague squashed mumble of protest.
'Well, you were,' the swordswoman pointed out. 'What brings you through these woods, traveler?'
'I am seeking companions on a quest to defeat the evil sorcerer and his king and make the land safe for innocents,' the boy told her. 'But I know that I can't do it by myself, so I'm looking for people to help me.'
'My brother and I are on a quest to overthrow our stepfather, the wicked count,' said the swordswoman. 'We'll help you with your quest if you'll help us with ours.'
'It's a deal,' said the boy, and they shook on it."
The boy expressed some doubts that a healer would be very much use on a quest to overthrow three people and counting, but the healer retorted, 'I sincerely doubt we're going to get through this with no injuries for any of us. I can keep the two of you in top fighting form even when by all rights you should be half-dead. And if it comes down to it, magic of the body is magic of the body. If I can touch someone, I can hurt them almost as well as heal them.' Because even magic traditionally used to help can do harm in the right hands.
The boy accepted this logic without protest. But the three of them still weren't sure that they could take down even one of the evil sorcerer, the bad king, or the wicked count with just themselves. So they journeyed through the woods a while longer."
At this point, they agreed that they probably had enough people, so they drew straws about whether they should deal with the sorcerer or the count first."
"When you can't decide on something, but it has to be decided, you usually settle it through chance. One of the ways of deciding things by chance is that you take as many straws as there are options, cut one of them shorter or longer than the others, and have an impartial party hold them in their fist so you can't tell which one is the odd one out. Then everyone who's arguing draws a straw. The person who gets the odd straw out either wins or loses depending on what kind of argument it is."
They walked up to the castle gates, where a pair of the mercenaries the wicked count had hired were guarding the castle. The swordswoman walked up to them.
'My stepfather isn't the rightful holder of this land, and you know it. Get out from between us and him, and you'll come to no harm.'
'Yeah? You and what army, girl?' one of the soldiers laughed.
'Me, for a start,' said the fire-woman, having come up behind the guard as sneakily as fire can, and hugged him."
"Yep! Luckily for the guard, he knew to drop to the ground and roll over when he got set on fire. But it distracted him and the other guard long enough for the boy to magic open the castle gates and for everyone to walk through. Those particular guards didn't follow them, presumably to avoid more fire."
"They met more guards, of course. Some of them the fire-woman managed to hug, and some of them were pelted with birds that the singer called from the sky, and some of them were magicked to sleep, and some of them were industriously sworded at by the swordswoman with the excellent new sword the sword-smith had made for her."
'Um. No,' said the mercenary captain.
'No? No? What do you mean no? What exactly am I paying you for again?' the wicked count screeched.
'Well, y'see, every time some of my men engaged with them, they were not only defeated, but many of them embarrassingly so. And if there's one thing that can hurt a mercenary company more than defaulting on a contract, it's being humiliated. Th'thing one a them c'n do with birds, it's not natural.' "
Naturally, he stopped shrieking. Hands shaking, he removed the coronet and handed it to her.
Having defaulted on their contract, the mercenaries left in short order. The siblings re-hired the old guards, and the swordswoman was installed as the true countess of Vesser. She threw her step-father in the dungeons, and they had a giant party to celebrate their first victory."
"The sword-smith expressed the opinion that he felt that this might have ended a little anticlimactically, and when he had been imagining this he had imagined there might be, oh, explosions or something. The boy offered to provide explosions. The swordswoman-countess told him firmly no."