Camp

The hues of the auras mixed with Heaven’s burgundy glow, illuminating the Earth well so that one could see even at night. Heaven’s dusk light cast long shadows. The West face of a nearby mountain was illuminated as if it was sitting by a fire, while the East side was invisible, casting a shadow of inky-black across the peninsula only occasionally lit by blues and greens from the strong auroras. Also visible, as a small point of light, was Rebirth, another satellite of Heaven.

Estrild’s group approached the tribal campsite. At its centre burned a great bonfire, visible for miles around. The goblins lived in tents and temporary wooden huts, though the transient settlement was surprisingly well-ordered. She called out to them in their language.

Several dozen goblins were waiting for them. The families of the captured women could not hold themselves back, and ran over to them to help them down from the horse. Husbands and wives tenderly embraced, and children cried in joy.

The witch swung her leg over and jumped down from her own mount. Already speaking to some goblin men, she extended a hand to Mel. The bee took it gingerly, finding the witch’s fingers to be cold. She slowly clambered down, and managed to avoid falling on her bum.

A young man moved through the crowd towards them, looking at Mel. He was young, definitely younger than she was in human years. Long black hair fell to his shoulders, and his beard was thin. He wore a princely red cape (though the colour might have just been from Heaven), and a colourful tunic.

“Now, who’s this woman riding with the esteemed warrior Estrild?”, said the man in Thervic, approaching the witch with open arms.

Mel shrunk away. She tried to stammer a reply, but the prince was already sharing a quick embrace with Estrild. She couldn’t tell what their relation to one another was, but he smelled of sweat.

“This is Mel. I found her in the slaver’s wagon, and she had nowhere to go but with me”, the witch explained once they had made their greetings. “Oh, and Mel, he’s Gruffudd. He’s like a brother to me.”

Gruffudd nodded. “The chief will want to talk to you. Farus is over with him, by the way.”

Estrild said, “Of course. By the way, of your men…”

“Father wouldn’t spare any of his standing guard, and still won’t even think about raising the realm’s men to fight. These fourteen are volunteers I picked up from Llannernws.”

“It’s so frustrating”, he said, shaking his head. “I will say this openly now: Celyn is a fool, firstly for tolerating their occupation of Castell Barnus… He thinks it is fine if they ravish our Southern Forests, as long as they don’t affect the cultivated North.”

Estrild just nodded. “Come, let’s go speak with the hierarch about tomorrow. There will be food for you there, Mel.”

The bee didn’t know why she had been summoned to a war council, but she followed behind her liberator. Up ahead, a night celebration was taking place around the fire. Dozens of warriors with spiked recurve bows sat around the fire, drinking and shouting. Others danced, or found women to lie with. Such a festival was needed to quell nerves before a battle.

“Estrild?”, Mel asked quietly, “Why am I coming with you to meet the chief? I don’t think I have anything much to add.”

“You’re free to go wherever you want, Mel. I don’t expect you to come with us tomorrow, though I would like if you did. We will be using crossbows, and we could do with someone else to move the ammunition.”

Mel froze, letting the two humans walk on without her. The fire was burning very close, and her cheek felt hot against it. Its smoke almost engulfed her sense of smell. She knew that if she didn’t follow Estrild to war, she would never see her again. She had only known the witch for a day, but it already felt like it would be an immense loss.

In 20 years of life, Mel had never experienced a positive interaction with anyone except her sisters and mother. She’d always thought that’s how it would always be. Now, if she let Estrild go, she probably wouldn’t make another friend in the years of her life that remained.

Mel shook her head, trying to clear it. She thought, What am I thinking? I’ve only just met her, and yet I’m already considering going with her to die in a futile battle? There’s been something off-putting about her since the beginning, like she’s been enchanting me. Why did I allow myself to be named by a human again? It’s like I’m still in shackles, just these ones are mental.

The escaped slave decided on leaving. She looked behind her, and thought about melting into the dark undergrowth at the edge of the camp (maybe after stealing some vegetables from a store). But before she could run, Estrild was calling out to her.

“Mel? What’s wrong?”, the witch said, having turned back to look at her.

Mel met her red eyes, as powerful as stars, and realised why she had to go with her. There was something within her gaze. Estrild was special. Even if the bee made other friends, she would never have the chance to be close to someone like Estrild ever again. The witch was powerful beyond measure, so did it even matter that she treated Mel strangely at times? They were not equals, how could they be? Estrild would change the world.

Some communal instinct within Mel told her that being the witch’s pet would give her life more meaning than anything else she could possibly do. Estrild was like Rebirth, the golden moon, where magical plains were said to lie beneath its thick yellow clouds. She was free now, and free to choose who to follow. Mel began to cry, without really knowing why.

Estrild rushed over and embraced her. The witch’s cold arms wrapped around her beneath the loaned cloak. Mel buried her head into a waiting shoulder.

“It’s all going to be alright”, comforted Estrild. “I know you have been through a lot of horrible things. But I’m here now, alright? You’re not alone anymore.”

Mel cried for a minute into Estrild, making her tunic wet with tears. They held each other for a minute more. They were so close now that Estrild overcame the smoke, and Mel could smell the sweat beneath the flowery perfume (if it indeed was perfume). The tenderness of the moment almost made Mel cry again, but she was unused to it, having shed not a tear since she had escaped the latifundia.

“Thank you, Estild. For saving me”, Mel said, looking at the witch’s finely shaped face shyly. She couldn’t help but blush.

“You’re welcome”, said Estrild, smiling intimately before breaking away. “Come, you will feel better once you’ve eaten.”