A gentle shake of my shoulder woke me. "Madison, your turn," Betiara said quietly as her face slowly came into focus. The wagon had been stopped to let the horse graze, which explained how I hadn't been woken earlier. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. It was still dark, which made for easy adjustment to my surroundings. Orange light was just beginning to crest over the western mountains some ways behind us. A yawn forced its way out of me. We had been on the road for a day and a half at this point, and I was really feeling it. This cart was not the most comfortable way to travel; given that it was meant to haul raw materials and racks of finished products, it didn't surprise me in the slightest. Bird songs rang around me while I gathered myself for a stint of driving. I hoped their daily lives being relatively unaffected was an upward portent for the day's events. Stretching myself out helped my body exorcise the stiff cold of the night.
"How's everything," I asked in a whisper.
"Fine. The wagon got stuck a few hours ago. I'm surprised you slept through it." Betiara started to smirk as she stared at me with intent.
"What?"
"You drooled on my shoulder."
"Oh my god." I remembered slumping against someone. My embarrassment started to twist my stomach into knots. "I'm sorry. Here, uh, I can clean it."
"Yeah..." She chuckled at my eagerness to make up for my terrible wrong, which she evidently didn't consider that terrible. A simple cast of Prestidigitation, and all was well again. "Thanks. Well, I'm going back to sleep," she announced as she settled next to Lilika to do exactly what she said. I climbed into the driver's seat as gingerly as I could to avoid rocking the cart, and as much as I hated to do so, gently flicked the reins to urge the horse forward. They resumed their leisurely pace without issue. I had some time on my hands, and I didn't know what to do with it; so much of my planning had been for the engagement of my currently sleeping friends. My began to wander with my eyes as I scanned the tree line for dangers. I wasn't used to this pace of life. Things had always been so hectic at my jobs, having quiet time to myself was a new luxury. The coming hours would be an exercise in patience. Patience was something I needed to embrace more in this world, or I'd rattle myself apart with fear and worry. That exact result had been my way of living on Earth. I was sure it had a hand in making me chronically miserable.
The orange light of morning spilled through the forest early into my driving shift. My breath passed easily, and I felt lucky to experience it all to myself. I almost didn't survive the cataclysm that split the Karthos Valley. If it hadn't been for Lilika, if it hadn't been for my decision to visit her... I wondered if I would wake up on Earth if I died here. No, these thoughts weren't productive. I gave my head a shake to free said thoughts from their scaly prison. My attention had to be focused here and now if I was going to keep moving, both literally and metaphorically. The wagon's vibrations and the feel of the reins in my hands grounded me as I let myself feel them to the utmost. Soreness rose through my spine from all the impacting blows of the road. If Lilika's report was correct and nothing slowed our pace today, an inn bed could be waiting for me in Letvel. I would even take lying in the grass over the wagon at this point. I reached up to gently touch over my draconic face. Feeling my scales, my new shape, reminded me of the hope and wonder I had felt when I first arrived here. I hoped the memory of feeling my horns for the first time would help me feel better as time went on. The room in the inn had been basic, even sparse, but it was comfortable. I discovered magic and rediscovered myself in that room. I expected to miss it for a long time.
My thoughts cycled between self-determined forward motion and the doom sliding of my idle brain. Luckily, before too much longer, the others began to wake up. I had to secure my staff across my waist with my elbows as I turned around to greet them. Betiara sat beside me to keep me silent company until Lilika woke, who passed enchanted berries to us. A late breakfast was far better than none at all, and I accepted it happily. Sekvi woke next and assumed driving with assurance that if they didn't, they wouldn't be able to abstain from playing their symphonia. Keff was the last to rise, and once he had warmed up for the day, I set my prepared plan in motion. "So, I've been thinking," I began in hopes that my anxiety wouldn't show through, "some of us know each other better than others. On Earth, we have what are called 'icebreakers,' and those can be used to help groups of people get to know each other better. There are some games we can play while we ride, if you all like the sound of that."
Unanimous interest met my suggestion. I thanked my lucky stars for their patience. "Okay, cool! My first idea was Two Truths, One Lie. What we do is take turns telling two truths and a lie, and the others try to guess which one is the lie. It can be about anything. There's no score to keep track of, it's just feeling the other person out; we all win just by, um, growing our understanding of the other. I'll go first to show you how it's done. Um..." My hands wrung over my staff while my gaze drifted. I had no idea what to tell them. I had to think quickly or the game I had suggested would fall apart! "My job at Taco Bell was my first job, I had a cat before I came here, and I only eat plant-based foods."
"What's a cat?" Sekvi asked with a look of interest. I had never thought that domestic cats wouldn't exist in this world.
"They're small, kind of lanky animals with pointy ears and a long tail. They're mammals, so they have fur, breathe air, and nurse their kittens with milk. Um, oh, they have slit pupils and little whiskers that hang over their eyes that help them see in the dark. They enjoy hunting, and though they're pretty independent compared to dogs, they can still be very affectionate." It felt so surreal to explain cats to someone. This feeling would likely become more frequent as the others learned more about me.
"That's the lie," Keff asserted with confidence. "If you had a companion you'd be scrambling to get back to Earth as fast as you could."
"She could have a trusted person to look after the cat while she's gone," Sekvi mused aloud.
"If she trusted someone that much, she would miss them." Betiara sounded confident. I felt a pang of chill run through me as I realized that I hadn't had any trusted friends on Earth. Even if I had had a cat, I couldn't trust anyone to feed them for me. That felt so sad to me.
"She learns too quickly to have only had one job," Lilika asserted. "I think the first statement is a lie."
"It's the cat. I know it."
"My vote is for the cat, as well. Madison likely engaged in various extracurricular studies; she informed me that they have a tool for such things on Earth. It's called the Internet."
"Can people survive well on plants alone?" Betiara posed for effect. "I think that's the lie." Everyone looked to me for the answer. It felt like I was under a spotlight, but I had to trust that their attention was good. I had to admit that I found Betiara's answer grating in spite of knowing that dietary needs could be different for werewolves.
"I did not have a cat," I answered. Keff crossed his arms with satisfaction, and Sekvi's hands pumped into the air. Betiara raised an eyebrow. Lilika, meanwhile, looked pleasantly surprised. To be fair, she usually wore that expression.
"Told you. She likes animals too much to leave one behind."
"I admit that I have an advantage, given that she stayed in my tower for a time."
"Is that why you eat plants? Because you care for animals too much to eat one?" I bristled slightly, anticipating my answer being met sourly by Betiara.
"Essentially. I mean, I wouldn't do it to a person, either." This elicited a chuckle from Lilika, which broke the tension that was quickly building within me.
"I don't, either. Rags wouldn't approve of that, would he?" A bark confirmed this assertion.
"Oh. Well... it's admirable to live by principles," Betiara said with quiet conviction. I felt I should have trusted her more than to deride me for making a personal decision for myself. "Well played. Who's next?"
"The one and only me," Sekvi announced with a grin. Betiara reached over to keep their arms from rising into the air again, which could have given the horse a false signal to speed up. "Yes, two truths, and one lie. I once lost an irresponsible amount of money on a bet, I have had my face spit upon by a fellow diplomat, aaaand I once started a bar fight that I then won." Keff began to laugh; I suspected that he knew the answer. Sekvi seemed to be too careful to lose money on something as insecure as gambling, but I couldn't imagine someone spitting in their face. I voiced my guess first.
"I can't imagine someone spitting in your face."
"I should hope not. What say everyone?"
"Gambling," said Betiara.
"Gambling," echoed Lilika.
"You couldn't win a bar fight." Keff grinned at Sekvi with his arms firmly crossed.
"I could win a bar fight," Sekvi countered with a hint of indignation, "but alas, that day is yet come. Well done, Keff."
"How am I so bad at this?" Betiara asked in exasperation. "This is my job."
"Everyone has room to improve, sweetie."
"Somebody seriously spit in your face, Sekvi?" I had to hear this story.
"Over tax reforms, yes. He remained an alpaca for an hour afterward!" Laughter erupted in the wagon. Of all the animals that existed in two entirely separate worlds, alpacas would likely have been my last guess. "If only the council thought it as amusing as you all do!"
"I'll go next," Betiara volunteered. She thought for a moment, then began to speak while her nose scrunched up as if itchy. "I was a priest before I was a mercenary. I'm allergic to kobraan, and I did not bend my last sword by being an oaf, Keff." Another round of laughter filled the road.
"What's kobraan?" I asked.
"A sparkdrop fruit that grows under normal conditions. I've heard sparkdrops are grown in a special way during the Winter." I felt it such a tragedy to be allergic to such a wondrous fruit. This moment was a harrowing reminder that I could be allergic to many different plants in this world, and that I'd need to be careful if I were to avoid invoking anaphylactic shock.
"I'm guessing that just because I hope it's not true." Regardless of my views of organized religion, I felt it better to give Betiara the benefit of the doubt this time. I had learned from my earlier blunder. "Your morality could have come from a place informed by religion."
"You are an oaf, and I'm sticking to it," chuckled Keff.
"You don't seem the pious sort to me," Sekvi mused. "I believe your inspiration to be more grounded."
"I think you'd take better care of a sword than that. I think you were involved in religion, but not a priest. You're too young." Betiara paused for dramatic effect, as if enjoying the attention.
"I was only an acolyte," she confessed. "And that's part of where I got my principles. I saw a lot of inequality in my church, but I also saw people doing a lot of good in the world. I left the church when I realized I could do more universal good outside of its confines. I still have my symbol, actually. It reminds me of how far I've come." A chain of silver was fished out from between Betiara's shirt and her armor. It featured a stained glass crescent moon with silver-beaded strings that hung below the amulet. I recognized another source of commonality with Betiara.
"What does it mean? The moon and the strings."
"See how they're of equal length? We're all the same under the light of the moon." I found the sentiment to be particularly powerful coming from someone that was secretly a werewolf.
"I like that. There's a similar saying on Earth." I nervously fidgeted my thumbs over my staff while I weighed a question. "Was it just the individual church, or was it the religion?"
"Mostly the former. The rest was feeling like I shouldn't have to have a specific faith in order to help people. I feel those two things can be separate." The more I learned about Betiara, the more I liked her.
"So what happened to the sword?" Keff asked in what sounded like a rhetorical tone.
"It was an accident."
"Come now, Betiara, secrets aren't in the spirit of the game," Sekvi prodded.
"I got scared by a roda scurrying over the floor and fell on it." Everyone else, even Betiara, laughed. I imagined a roda was some sort of insect or rodent, but didn't press the question.
"My turn." Keff sniffed in a confident gesture as he looked us over. He was in it to win it. "Genealogy is a hobby of mine. Steel is my least favorite metal to work, and... I taught myself how to smelt and smith." His statements were impenetrable. They were each delivered with the same even tone. One of them clearly stood out from the others, however.
"Genealogy," I guessed. "You have such a precise touch with a hammer, which seems like something you'd say can't be taught."
"I would hope you liked working with steel, considering how often you do so!" Sekvi probably knew the answer. Changing my answer seemed pointless in a game without tallied points.
"Genealogy," Betiara guessed without elaboration.
"Talent can be inherent, sure, but I think someone else taught you the basics. I have a feeling," Lilika announced with confidence.
"Uh-huh, from my father, who's not worth talking about."
"I'm glad this game doesn't have losers," Betiara lamented with a chuckle.
"I wasn't aware of this hobby. Why did you never tell me? I could have helped you find relevant records."
"It's a new interest, but I appreciate it, Blue." Sekvi's apparent pet name was terribly cute. Their cheeks turned a purple color while they attempted to laugh it off.
"That leaves me," Lilika said as silence descended over the wagon once more. She was a wild card; as far as I was aware, nobody here knew much about her. I didn't expect anyone to guess her lie correctly. "I spent much of my life with my husband, who later shed his name and lived among the bears as one himself. Just for fun, we would explore the caves together to see if we could find the buried treasures you hear about. Finally, my circle of druidic magic comes from the mountains themselves." To think that I had read Keff's answers as impenetrable... I had no idea what to think. That sentiment seemed to be shared by everyone else in the wagon; no one was eager to guess.
"Having only met you once, I don't believe you the sort to fall for such fancies as hidden treasures," Sekvi mused aloud. I agreed with them while the rest of the group hesitantly evaluated the story of her husband as the lie. My stomach sank for Lilika regardless of the fact that she chose that statement knowing full well that this could happen. Her smile didn't falter. I watched as she slipped her coat, which I now discovered was more like a fur shawl, from her shoulder. This was the first time I had gotten a clear look at the back of the garment. I noticed small spots of white scattered as if on a painter's canvas.
"I, like many wanderers in this life, follow the stars."
"Your husband was a bear?" Betiara blurted out. I listened as Lilika recounted the same story that she had told me. She made eye contact with me a few times as if to ask if the rest of the group was trustworthy. The answer must have been provided to her without a word. Silence fell over the wagon once her story was done. Lilika's eyes closed as she took a breath.
"He didn't survive the earthquake. He's... with the stars now, as an infinity before him and an infinity to come." I felt as if I'd swallowed a lead weight. My throat hardened up as I thought of the mangled bear and what came after. Whether or not it was the right thing to do, I felt I had to say something.
"I wish I could have met him, before..." Words failed me. My arms began to feel cold again.
"You were lucky to have met him, even in that moment, Madison. There was no shame in his end. You saw his eyes, how they closed; he had no issue with your presence." Lilika took my hands in hers, clearly aware of how the event had affected me. I could tell she felt far more than her unflappable countenance would suggest. "Any of us, anyone in any world, could die at any moment. All we are is stardust, ready to come apart for any reason. Instead of mourning moments that never happened, it's better to relish the ones that did. You knew my husband at his most true, his most vulnerable, the freest he had ever been. What you saw wasn't pitiful... what you saw was the power that change truly holds." I was stunned by the depth of Lilika's depth and how willing she was to share it with me. All I could do was look down and nod my head as my eyes welled up. Though most would think of this moment as a low note on which to end our lighthearted game, I shared her depth in this moment. Her husband had changed his body to match his internal conceptualization of himself to grant him happiness and freedom. As a wizard that aimed to specialize in Transmutation, that could very well be the core of the power I could come to wield one day. Change held depths so far beyond the scope of any of our beings.
"I'm sorry about your husband," Betiara said quietly. She, too, seemed to have a lot on her mind as she spoke. "I understand, I think. Living truly brings peace that nothing else can." Her eyes flicked to mine with a look of intent. I couldn't tell if she was referring to my transition, or if she was referring to herself. Betiara living as a wild wolf seemed like it would make it much harder for her to achieve her goals. Maybe she knew something that I couldn't even conceptualize.
"To the bears," Keff said as he raised his hand, cupping an invisible cup. "And the stars." Everyone raised their hands as if conducting a toast and brought them together. A light laugh was shared among the wagon, falling into an awkward silence as a gust of wind kicked up behind us.
"The wind tells me it's time for lunch. Berries, berries, berries," Lilika chanted as she passed them out to everyone. She said that if we couldn't find suitable food in town, she could make more berries for us. Full stomachs saw us further forward along the trail as we spoke and laughed together. The game had gone over well! I could feel satisfied with my efforts to bring the others together; it was something we all needed. Time, if there would be time, could see arguments and other difficulties arise, but there was now a base to build on. If nothing else, we could part with one more fond memory. Sometimes that was all we got in life. The Bear and I had only intersected for a short time, and those precious moments were all we knew of each other. I wondered if some part of him, a soul or some other semblance of his being, had really journeyed to the stars, or if that was merely the metaphor Lilika had used. What would the Cradle look like from up there? Did he have any memory of me? I would have felt that any other memories in his life would have been more important if not for the gravity Lilika had imparted upon me before. Every moment in life was important. His last view on this planet was of me standing there in dismayed shock, smeared with soot in the darkness. I could only dishonor that memory for us both by devaluing it. He was worth more than my maladaptive coping mechanisms were.
I caught myself staring off into space after I finished my lunch. Some of the water, due for its daily replacement, was used to give ourselves a freshening up. My face had been streaked in soot ever since that night. Tears had streaked it in a comedic fashion. I was almost sad to wipe it away, as if doing so would take part of me with it. Gray water dropped from my face. I felt like time was slowing down as I watched the drops land in the dirt and mud sliding toward the horizon behind us. My hands, growing more familiar to me by the day, caught some of the droplets. Each one splashed into a teardrop shape that came apart as it traveled away from the point of impact. An aquatic kaleidoscope of existence suffused my very being in its wake. This was a moment. I was alive. I was experiencing this. I felt like nothing more than a drop of water within the context of my life. I merely followed the slopes and gravity of my containers, drifting from a larger lake of personage into a river of uncertain destination. Would I ever find an ocean? Could I evolve into a fish, then a reptile, and walk upon the land with all the other wondrous creatures I was familiar with? Perhaps I was to stay a drop of water forever. The grand scheme saw all of my experiences and troubles and fears as specks of water, should it see anything more than the planetary expanse of blue. I would die one day the same as the bear had, and I pondered whether I would remember any of this in ten seconds, ten years, ten centuries or even a lifetime of being nothing more than water and stardust. It all felt so silly.
"Madison?" My head flicked to the side, casting so many lifetimes of water onto Keff. He stared up at me with concern. "What's going on?" That was a good question. I had no idea. My whole body felt tense, and there was a crushing chasm of emptiness in my chest. I felt my eyes, wide open, coursing with tears alongside a heightened heart rate and frantic breathing. Keff took my hand and sat me down next to him as whatever was happening to me continued. Rags pawed at my leg, and I reached out to pet him out of mere reflex. He was a very good boy.
"I don't know. I just, hurt. I hurt. It hurts. I don't know." All of life felt like static and noise, great flames in the dark.
"It's hitting her late," Keff announced to the others in a low tone. "Blue?"
"It's alright, Madison. Breathe with me," I heard Sekvi say as their face came into view. They started to laugh a little, as if to tell me that everything was okay. Their eyes told another story. Hurt lived deeply in them, too. "You're safe here with us. Keff, Betiara, Lilika, Rags and I, we're all here. So are you."
"I don't know what happened."
"That's not a problem. Sometimes things happen that we don't understand; it happens to me all the time. Here, I know, I can play a song for us all to enjoy together." I wiped the blur from my eyes as they picked up their symphonia. As if they had been born with the instrument in their hands, Sekvi began to play a somber melody. I had expected something happier, but I liked this better. I felt matched, heard, understood. This melody wasn't made of just my emotions, but everyone's. I felt each of my friends in the music. My whole life ached, but I did not ache alone. Ache burst from its bubble within my chest. Memories of the flourishing town brought to ashes, the bodies along the streets and in fallen homes, and fire... so much fire. They didn't have the chance that I had now: to breathe. Those dead no longer got to ache with me, and so I ached in their stead. My eyes found the road behind us, a waving line carved through deciduous forest, expanding so far that I couldn't see its end beyond the trees. Sekvi's song seemed to stretch far beyond the endless green around us.
"Did that help you?" They asked after playing for at least an hour. The melody had continued to morph over time, ending in something more sweet than bitter. It was a pleasant experience.
"Yeah. Thank you. I'm sorry about that, it just, came over me." I noticed only now that Lilika had assumed the driver's seat of the wagon.
"You need to feel your feelings, sweetie. They just come at inopportune times." Lilika, as ever, was a balm to my worries.
"Tell me about it." I covered my face and took a deep breath. "That was a lot."
"What happened?" Keff ventured with caution. "You seemed fine one minute, then you were staring at the water like you saw something horrible in it." I tried to recall what happened. It was terrifying; I had to tread carefully.
"I was thinking about existence, and how it starts, and ends. Trying to make sense of myself inside it. It felt like I was in slow motion, watching the water fall. I was asking why, and how, and what it all means." My breathing remained steady, but slightly elevated. I resumed petting Rags, which earned a heaving paw pressing down against my leg. "I didn't belong on Earth, I don't think, but do I belong here? I'm trying to put all these thoughts aside so I can focus on you all, but they keep coming back. This time, they came back with some friends."
"You're coming back with friends, too," Keff reminded me. That single assertion gave me pause. "Those are questions you can maybe answer, or maybe you never will. We care too much about you to let that be the end of it. We might part ways eventually, but we'll still care. Are you gonna let us care?" Pause turned into stillness as he asked me that question. Had I not been letting them care? ...in setting my own feelings aside for the sake of theirs, I might have been doing just that. My only method of coping wasn't going to work here. That thought terrified me.
"Yeah. You've all proven it. Ignoring what I'm feeling is the only way I know how to cope with it, though."
"Then we'll find another way," Betiara assured me. "What about magic?"
"Oooh. Oooh. Yes! Betiara, that's brilliant. Madison, you could do as I have done, as I am doing. This instrument better allows me to translate my emotions into magic, or at the very least, inform them." Sekvi all but became a flurry of living color as they stood and brandished their sparkling blue robe. "You've succeeded in applying your intellect to your magic. How would you apply your emotions to your magic?" I had never thought about magic in such a way. It had seemed mechanical to me, the way myriad components of spell composition and components had to be arranged in order to produce a viable, repeatable effect.
"I have a lot of emotions about change. Good things becoming bad and vice versa, changing perspectives and understandings... movement, estrangement and establishing new connections. I mean, Transmutation, right? But that doesn't seem emotional by itself." I frowned as I brought my tail into my lap to wring it with my hands.
"It can be! Anything can be anything, but that's beside the point. ...or perhaps it's not. Anyway, this is a start. How do you feel when things change?"
"Scary. Usually very scary. Sometimes it gets better as I get used to it."
"Fear is a powerful motivator. Do you enjoy feeling fear?" I thought about what seemed to be a very odd question at first. Did people enjoy fear? Horror movies existed, and there were people that enjoyed watching them.
"No, I don't think so."
"Perhaps fear can be replaced with a different point of emotional origin. A different form of tension and release." Sekvi tapped their chin and moved as if to begin pacing, but stopped upon realizing they were in a moving wagon. "What emotions do you enjoy more?" I considered their question, feeling that it could lead to potent understanding if we followed this course forward. Powerful rushes of emotion had come from Lilika's assertions earlier, for better and for worse. The experiences I had gathered during my time here were utterly transformative in more ways than one. I remembered the high moments: appreciating my new body, feeling friendship with my new friends, casting magic for the first time... the emotions they inspired were far more palatable to me. My life had been changed, and I would never be the same person that I was before all this. That was what I wished to impart in the casting of my magic wherever possible. "Elation, excitement... I'm not sure if discovery is an emotion. Experiential, um, possibility."
"Fantastic. Ah, patterns materialize before us, do you see them?"
"Some of the spells I already have, and the ones I'm planning to add to my Tome. Comprehend Languages; it opens doorways to new understanding." Sekvi clapped their hands in excitement.
"You're already engaging. This will be simple, yet, I suppose, likely difficult. What you need to do is to reduce the separation you feel from yourself." I couldn't fathom how Sekvi was able to see my inner workings so clearly. Could it be that they had already gone down this road before? Could it be that they were already walking alongside me? Their symphonia seemed to be a gateway for their myriad and mercurial emotions. That had to be what it was. Removing myself from myself had long been a defense mechanism that had guaranteed emotional survival while I was under constant threat. Embracing and processing all of those feelings, let alone the ones I'd undergone in the past two weeks alone, felt like an impossible task. It felt too dangerous an operation to chance.
"I'd... rather not do that, I think. It feels dangerous, and, like it's not a good time to be doing that when so much is up in the air." I used my hands to illustrate my point, paralleling them in front of me. "I need a stable base to work from first." I could tell that Sekvi understood what I was saying, but their eyes averted while they chose words they deemed most helpful.
"I'm afraid life isn't concerned with what we're ready for." They were trying to break it to me softly. I felt conflicted by that fact. Sekvi was obviously trying to spare me as much difficulty as possible without obscuring the bare facts of reality from me. It was so unlike me to wish for something sweeter. "Your study will force the issue, trust me, for I know only too well. ...do you not feel it better to manage yourself on your own terms?"
"It's preferable, but not when I'd rather not do it." I saw their lips part in preparation for further challenge, but they decided not to press. Sentiments swirled within me. Defensive upset, perhaps, but they started to spill from me before I could stop them. "I've spent my whole life as an enemy of everyone around me. I won't make an enemy of myself, too."
"But this is endeavor to inspire the opposite: healing and self-love. It's very important to-"
"We're all frazzled," Keff interjected. "Let her cope how she does. She'll learn when it's time for her to learn." I wanted to internalize this assertion, to give myself time to grieve in the flawed way that I could. Still... I couldn't let myself be seen as a child that the others had to do therapy for. It wasn't fair to them and it wasn't fair to me. Fortunately, my upset was quelled by a surprise embrace from Lilika. My first instinct was to push her off of me, but as my muscles tensed, my resolve came loose. I went limp and leaned my head into her shoulder instead.
"I'm so damn angry and I hate it," I whispered. I didn't know where it had all come from so quickly. Why had Sekvi's simple, reasonable evaluation brought out a desire to lash out in self-defense? All the energy had nowhere else to go. Crying so soon after I'd done so earlier -- on the shoulder of a stranger, no less -- was not something I wanted to do. What did it matter, if it was going to happen anyway?
"So am I," Lilika responded. "I believe we all are... you're an adult, Madison, we know that. Sekvi and Keff just have different ideas of how to help. We're all new to each other, so there will be a period of..."
"Trial and error?" Betiara chimed in from the front of the wagon.
"Yes, thank you! Trial and error." It was a sensible sentiment, and I was able to see its worth. The anger didn't subside; it merely settled to a simmer. I could feel it in me, throughout every part of my body. The way it seemed to come out of nowhere like that terrified me. What if I wasn't able to control it the next time it started to boil over? Why was I so upset with the idea of having to confront myself?
"I'm sorry Sekvi. You were giving me good advice, it's just, raw." Sekvi inclined their head and looked out toward the afternoon sun, deep in thought.
"Perhaps I was out of line. I apologize."
"No, you were helping. You're my friend. I think... I needed to be aware of it. Thank you." A smile and a bow of their head was their response as they resumed their symphonia practice. I felt terrified that I had crossed a line somehow and Sekvi would no longer attempt to help me overcome what had happened. There was such a disconnect between the help they could offer me and their refusal of the same. Was that what they were thinking about right now, or were they weighing whether I was worth all this? I didn't feel like I was, with the way my emotions had risen to a peak so quickly. Rags' head landed in my lap; he could sense my distress. I leaned forward to give his neck a big hug. My panic slowed down as I brushed my hand over his braided fur. We were all in the same boat: angry, frazzled, distraught, sad, desperate for an outlet or resolution. I could only hope that Sekvi was considering themself more than me right now, and was realizing the same thing I was. We weren't ready to help each other in this while the embers of this trauma hadn't yet burnt out. That had to be the message the others were trying to tell me.
Arctic, the horse that had been laboring us forward these past two days, was given another rest as the sun began to go down. A handful of glinting lights in the distance indicated that we had nearly reached Letvel. I took the opportunity to clean everyone's clothing again via Prestidigitation, both in hope of mending any potential offenses I had caused with my upset and to give myself some more practice with the cantrip. Engaging with my magic as often as I could felt like a good way to keep myself sharp amid the dulling stress that constantly battered against me. I had tried to let my mind wander, but all it wanted to think about were bodies, flames, and how this group of people were only tolerating me at best. Reasoning with my shellshocked mind didn't work for very long, so I sought out any distraction I could find. The night didn't bring quite the same chill as it had in the valley; between the lack of wind blowing Southeast from the nearby tundra and falling against the taller eastern mountains in the form of mist, it was drier here. The conditions here were more favorable for widespread boreal tree growth that I imagined was only helped by Letvel likely importing its lumber from Karthos Bend. I imagined it could afford to do so, given that it was wedged between the intersection of two rivers.
Keff and Sekvi continued to educate the rest of us on the city as we drew closer. I saw a tall, cracked stone wall that spanned the land between the Tagat River and its now former tributary. The city, with an estimated population of around 12,000 people, was a thriving hub of trade along these two rivers. The farmland wasn't as arable, but it was plentiful near the town. Mountains continued to the Southwest that provided mineral wealth, and there was a substantial peat bog to the Southeast, both across the Tagat River from Letvel. The point of the wedge featured large bridges with periodic draws to enable visitors and river vessels to pass through and pass by while keeping the city safe with an overwatching fortress at the very point of the wedge. Forestry was a big industry here, though that industry was largely conducted at remote camps in less populated areas of these foothills. Karthos Bend had supplied much of the lumber for the city in decades past and its more expensive products were sold further down the river for a higher price. With forestry came charcoal, as well. In short, the city mostly derived its wealth from the natural resources of the area as well as taxes it collected on tolls and trade down the rivers. I imagined that the drying of our familiar river would cause some economic instability for a time, but as we weren't residents, we could probably count ourselves outside of that effect.
The enormous wall before us, the dense forest behind us, and the downward slope out of Karthos Valley meant that the wind that constantly buffeted us before was hardly present here. The dry river was within viewing distance of the road now, now but a deep trench of mud among all the green. I noticed as we drew closer to the wall, through the patchwork of farms that lay on either side of us, had upper sections missing along its left side. Scattered stone had presumably fallen at the base of the wall and into the river. A single wide overhead gate was manned by a selection of guards stationed at the gate itself and patrolling the agricultural area, each of their torches visible at a distance. I wondered where we would be sleeping tonight. Before I could gather enough courage to ask the others what they expected, we had arrived at the gate. An elven guard halted us before we passed the threshold into town. "Names and business?" Sekvi graciously took point of the conversation.
"I am Sekvi Tenkasin, also known as the Seer; perhaps you've heard of me? This is my star pupil, Madison Cantrell." I offered a timid wave from the hand that held my staff. "Beside me is Betiara Ottenber, Captain of the Karthos Bend guard. This is-"
"Keffit Suffoto."
"The Keffit Suffoto?" Questioned the guard in surprise. "My brother took up the trade after seeing your demonstrations, sir."
"Good men, then."
"My thanks. And, ma'am, with the furs?"
"Lilika Faeserbik. I'm their guide!" The road had not dulled her enthusiasm or her sense of humor.
"Very well. Seer, the mayor expects you. Do you know the way?"
"I do indeed, Vaun. It's a pleasure to see you again." The guard gave a nervous chuckle and rubbed the back of their neck. I wondered what prompted this response.
"You're cleared to enter, only a formality to observe for the sake of my work. I am... deeply saddened by the news I've received from other refugees. Did you pass any others along the way?" His question strained under the brittle weight of hope.
"As far as I'm aware, we're the last ones. ...aside from a bard without an instrument," Betiara explained. Silence chilled the air far more than the light breeze drifting across flat farmland. Vaun closed his eyes to better withstand this unfortunate news. He appeared to be at a loss for words.
"Oh no," Sekvi lamented as they stepped down from the wagon.
"My wife's father. He traveled North to seek aid at the temple for an issue with his arm. We received a letter only days ago stating that he had begun treatment." My scales were the only thing keeping color in my face as I stared forward. The old man I had given silver to, assuming he was homeless... the one I had found dead in the 1st Spoke, that was the man Vaun spoke of. Keff had put it together too, and he gave me a look.
"Madison here gave him that money with the first wages she earned at my smithy." I felt numb. I wanted to be invisible. The ever-gracious Sekvi attempted to save me from this exposure.
"Madison, Lilika and I buried him outside of the West gate of town. He died quickly. I'm so sorry, Vaun." Vaun's shaking form readily embraced Sekvi when they offered him the same comfort.
"He was, reluctant to accept our financial aid. Always too proud to ask his children for money... he didn't want to burden us. Miss Cantrell?" I locked eyes with Vaun and lowered my hood so that he could see me fully. It felt like the right thing to do. "Thank you." There was nothing I could say that could adequately address the suffering of anyone right now, especially knowing that this man would have to return home and give his wife this news. My expression fell with my eyes. We were shortly on our way once again. Sekvi instructed Betiara to follow the road down to Letvel Hall, which lay at the foot of the city's main defensive fortification. This settlement, a small city by my standards, was denser than Karthos Bend had been by some margin. Many of the buildings were taller and made in a less rigid style. I saw white houses with wooden frames that could have come straight out of a historical documentary. More aged wooden structures were commonplace among smatterings of older stone construction. The city grew narrower and more dense the further we traveled. While Karthos Bend had featured mere alleyways between its main roads, Letvel had opted for streets that periodically curved across three straight roads radiating from the inner center of the city. Street lamps containing mundane fire light were sensibly placed at every intersection to keep the city illuminated to a reasonable degree.
"It's a bit bright," Lilika observed, her attention cast upward. I noticed wooden upper floors of homes and shops lining the street above us, leaving a narrower gap above us through which to view the stars. These features of Letvel diminished the nearly unspoiled nighttime that I had enjoyed until now. I could sense the discomfort in her observation and offered a tentative touch against her forearm in an effort to comfort her. "Oh, it's fine, sweetie. Maybe the city will be fun. I can always blend in as a bird or fly somewhere darker." What a wondrous thing to be able to do. We arrived at a curved plaza that was even brighter. To my left and right were docks along their respective rivers, and directly ahead lay a diamond-shaped fortification sat at the rivers' confluence. Cannons lit by patrolling soldiers' torches lined brown stone battlements. I imagined it was an effective way to defend the rivers, the docks, the still active market and the city's center of government. We turned left and parked by the entryway to a wooden-roofed stone building that featured a bridge above the roadway, connecting it to another building across the road. I imagined this was Letvel Hall.
We all exited the wagon. I didn't know what was going to happen to us next. Sekvi, Keff and Betiara announced that they were heading inside to inform the city's leadership of recent events and secure lodging. They invited me to come with them, but I declined. The encounter with Vaun had shaken me to my core. All I could see in my mind was the old man's unmoving eyes staring wide open. His situation had been improving, too, but he wasn't here anymore. He would never see his family again, and vice versa. It was such a terrible thing to be close to someone, sometimes. "Would you like to feed her?" I blinked and turned around to see Lilika petting Arctic.
"Okay. Hi, Arctic. Thank you for carrying us all that way. I'm sorry you had to do that."
"Here," Lilika said, offering me one of her Goodberries. "Hold your hand out flat with the berry in the middle. That way she can't accidentally eat your fingers." Did horses do that? I had never seen one up close. A cursory look at Arctic as she lipped the air showed me that her teeth were quite capable of doing exactly that. I followed Lilika's instructions to the letter and found success as the druid spoke words that even my necklace wouldn't translate.
"Does she understand you?"
"I've been able to speak with animals since I was a little girl. She can feel how you're feeling, you know. Horses are very empathetic." What a wonder, to be able to speak with animals. I almost came to regret choosing Arcane magical study over Primal magic. "Come pet her with me, sweetie. You'll feel better." These instructions were followed as well. As always, Lilika was right.
"My pendant didn't translate what you said. That's never happened before."
"You can't translate Druidic. It doesn't work like other languages... it's something only the Cradle and those in tune with it can understand." Lilika tilted her head to the side as she considered her explanation. "It's like speaking through your soul." She was a continuously impressive person. Every day I gained more respect for and interest in Lilika.
"Sometimes it's like you can hear mine." I was thankful that my new hands didn't experience any lessened sense of touch. Arctic's fur, thick and tawny, was impressively soft.
"The eyes, the voice, body language, it tells me everything."
"Hah, another language I can't hear."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah. I mean, some of it's obvious when you put two and two together. It's more the subtle cues that, um, entirely escape me. There are commonalities even among individuals, but it's like static to me." Lilika looked at me with genuine curiosity.
"Static?" I felt so far away from Earth.
"Indecipherable, unorganized noise, either visually or audibly."
"I see. You know, my husband felt the same way. He always told me animals made more sense in that respect than people." That was something I had felt many times over. Humans complicated matters by trying to hide their feelings and intent, but animals had no such compunctions. The wagging tail of a dog or the purr of a cat had always been easily understandable.
"I know exactly what he meant. He was right. ...what does my body language say?"
"That you're afraid. You're holding your staff close with both hands, your shoulders are drawn in. It's like you're making yourself a smaller target for someone aiming at you. Let me tell you something," she asserted with a smile as she stepped up to me. "No one's aiming at you, but if they were, they'd have to go through all of us first!" I couldn't help but smile at the assertion. Those were words highlighted trust that even my brain couldn't quash with its constant catastrophizing.
"Thank you for being so kind to me, even when I doubted you before. This is all so new and different to me."
"I could say the same to you." Lilika and I continued to chat over mercifully light subjects until the others emerged from their meeting.
"Would you rather weal or woe first?" Sekvi asked.
"Weal!"
"Woe," I answered. Keff chuckled at our characteristically diverging answers and elbowed Betiara in amusement.
"Alas diplomat's work is never done. The good news is that we can apply for river passage toward the capital! We also have lodgings we can rent for three copper pieces a day. The bad news... we will be in Letvel for the week, at least, unless we wish to task Arctic further." Everyone, including Sekvi, took the opportunity to object to that idea. "A retaining wall is being built to keep the Tagat flowing consistently, so we must wait until it's done to press on via boat. While Keff and Betiara will easily find temporary work, Letvel is apparently in little need of a wizard or a bard. As well, our accomodations, while adequate, are on the smaller side."
"Does it have beds?" I asked, wishing so dearly to sleep on something softer than loudly bucking wood tonight.
"It has little else."
"I am so okay with that." Betiara and Keff grunted an agreement in unison. "I can find a way to cook, I'm sure... tomorrow."
"And I accept this offer in kind," Sekvi said with a rueful chuckle. "Betiara will work alongside the town guard as a consultant, Keff will assist with repairing the wall, and I suppose I will do my utmost to cultivate an audience. The mayor is sending a group of volunteers with a detachment of guards for burials and salvaging in the valley. There is one pressing question, however: Lilika, Madison, Rags, will you be accompanying our mission to Nereved once departure is imminent?" Having a choice in the matter wasn't something I expected. I had nowhere to go. This world was still a dangerous mystery to me; death would only meet me if I were to venture out on my own. A comforting hand rested upon my upper back, courtesy of Lilika.
"I'll go if Madison does," she volunteered. It was okay. My tumultuous emotions hadn't removed me from trust or consideration of the group. They still accepted me... or had the choice been an effort to get rid of me over an unknown upset?
"Did I do something wrong...?" I asked, my voice breaking.
"No," Betiara asserted. "We didn't want you to feel obligated to come with us if you had other ideas, that's all." She paused, glancing away for a moment. "For the record, I hope you do."
"Uhuh," Keff affirmed.
"As do I."
"I'll go, yeah," I said quickly. A complicated swirl of gratitude and self-loathing did battle in my stomach. "I'm sorry. I just. Earlier, Sekvi, I don't want you to feel like you shouldn't try to help me."
"I've never felt that way in the slightest, star pupil. I see the way you attempt to engage me. It's simply that... I believe we have similar emotional demons to quash, and I decided it was best to have my house in order before assisting with yours." So that was their decision after all. I felt my body relax a little in the wake of my friends' patience. My brain was such an asshole.
"Thank you for having me a-, along," I said, interrupted by a yawn.
"Then let us make for bed." We did exactly that. Across the city we found a small stone house with a communal outbuilding in the meager yard behind it. It wasn't much, but it was sturdy shelter and appeared to be in good upkeep. We entered to find two rooms: a kitchen and a bedroom. There was no hesitation in starting a fire and dragging the five provided cots into the kitchen so we could enjoy the full benefits of the fireplace. Firewood was plentiful enough for several days' warmth under one of the awnings of the house. One final round of Goodberries was our sustenance for the evening along with the barrel of water that had been refreshed earlier in the day by Lilika. I spent a minute examining the cookware to assess its potential for the days to come before I collapsed into my cot. We all said our goodnights as sleep swept us up in its waiting grasp. Fire light danced over the walls of the small home, the occasional pops of a proper fire failing to wake us in our fatigue. My imagination, for the first time since I had arrived in this wondrous, terrifying world, was inundated with the visage of a carefree dragons flying high above all of their fears and concerns. I so desperately wished that I could fly away from myself... for now, my longing bid for peace lay with my friends.