“Ah, right. Sorry.” He said, bowing his head apologetically, “What do you need, spirit-born?”

“No need to be sorry.” She responded, “There's not a whole lot of us around.” She smiled and shook her head. “Would you happen to know how many more days until the equinox?” She asked

“Of course.” He answered. His eyes shot towards the sky, “Hmmm, about...eight or nine days, I'd say. Though the creatures and the monsters will start to go into their frenzies in about four.”

“So soon?” She clicked her tongue and glanced behind her, “Bastards...” She massaged the small peaks of her temples with the thumb and index finger of her right hand. “Do you know how to get to the town of Belleire from here?”

“Belleire? Let me think for a second.”

The town of Belleire was well out of the way of his wandering area, but he had been there once before with his father to visit his uncle, who led his herd in the area surrounding. He knew the general direction, however.

“You want to go north from here.” He said. “It's nearly a straight shot. You'll see it above the grasses. It's along the banks of the Drift.”

“That's all? You have a map or something?” She asked. Placing her hand on her slender waists. Her cloak fluttered out of the way, and the leather wrapped handle of a wand flashed briefly.

“Afraid not.” He said as he shook his head, “Shepherds don't use maps.”

“No? Wouldn't it make things easier?”

“It might.” He said, “But we don't do much wandering outside of our areas, as to not interfere with others in the Clan.”

She sighed, and her shoulders sank.

“Oh well. Are there any landmarks to look out for?”

“Yeah. There's a giant tree.” He said, “Oak, I think. A ruin, and the Drift.”

“Uh-huh...north, you say?” She glanced down the slope she had just climbed. “How many days do you think it'd take to get there.”

“Hmm...” He sized her again — how the thinnest grass at the top of the hill brushed against her chin. “About two weeks. If you don't want to sleep.” He said, “Twenty if you do. At your size, at least.”

She frowned.

“You're pretty rude, you know that?”

“Sorry, it's true, though." He said with a shrug, "The grass is thicker to the north and it's hard enough for me to move through it at a comfortable speed.”

“Twenty days?” She glanced behind her, and then to the sky, and then to him. He adverted his gaze as soon as her sapphire eyes washed over him, “I've heard from certain people that Shepherds have a way to avoid the solstices and the equinox in the wild, is that true?”

He nodded.

“Every shepherding family has a Rest.” He said, “A place where only the Shepherd and those accompanying them can enter, and is safe during the Days.”

“I thought so. You shepherds are famously nomadic. You don't spend a lot of time in towns, from what I hear...” She thought for a moment. “So here's my offer,” she began, once more placing her hands on her hip. Once more the wand sheathed on her hip stuck out from beneath her cloak in the silver buckled belt holding up her dark brown trousers, and over the baggy long sleeved blouse that was tucked into them. “I might not look like it, but I'm an Adept and with the coming equinox, surely you'll need an extra hand to help defend your flocks until you get to the rest in exchange for safe harbor during the equinox.”

“Eh? You're an adept? Really?”

“I am!” She stated one part proudly and the other part indignantly, as she puffed out her chest, “Watch this.”

With an awkward pivot, she turned to face the slope behind her and drew the wand from her side. In the same fluid motion she swept it around herself Even with her arm fully extended the wand came inches from reaching the top of his head. After two full rotations above her head, she pointed the wand in front of her. The greenness of the grass all around began to fade into a dull, drought-borne yellow, and a ball of liquid that held both the dim gray of the sky, and a slight tinge of green from the drying grass, began to form in front of her. The grass turned from yellow to brown, and from brown to black, as it wilted all around the hill top. The green-gray ball of liquid grew until it was about as wide around as Dolly.

“Torrent!” She called in her warble of a voice.

The water spat forth instantly at a speed that would rival the swiftness of the Drift's current towards the direction she pointed. As she moved the wand, the water followed like a great spout, tearing up earth dozens of yards away wherever it landed until the large ball of water had been used up.

“Amazing!” It was the first time he had seen something other than the wind magic he and his father were capable of. “What else can you do?”

He looked towards the girl in front of him expectantly. As the grass fell, and revealed the bottom half of the fae-kin his eyes darted to the bottom of her trousers. Sticking out from the legs of her trousers two pale and taloned feet stuck out — two pairs of dark talons digging into the earth on either of them.

“Aren't I?” She looked back and followed his eyes downward. The proud smile pulling at her lips fading, “Ah... you saw them.” Her breath, strained from the spell she had just cast sputtered, “Hideous, aren't they?” She dug her feet beneath the blackened grass, burying them in the fertile soil of the valley.

He didn't say a word. He couldn't. It had taken him by surprise, and it was probably written all over his face the slight revulsion that welled up inside momentarily.

“Sorry.” She rubbed the back of her neck beneath her hood. It was only then that he had seen the slight discoloration, and the slight swelling on her right cheek “I'll leave. Please...” She sighed, “I'll leave.” She fastened the wand to her belt and hung her head low as she began to sink back into the Sea.

“Where will you go?” He asked before she vanished from sight, his heart racing in his chest.

“I'll find some ruin to hide out in until the days after the equinox pass.” She said, her voice a phantom of what it had been. “I hope.”

“Weren't you going to guard the herds and come to the Rest?”

She turned her head.

“Huh?” She stopped at the edge of the hill and turned to face him. Her clear, sky eyes were misty, and a visible lump had begun to form in her throat.

“Why are you leaving? I was thinking of accepting your offer.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, and the light returned to her eyes.

“Really? Don't you think they're horrifying?” She lifted her talon feet off the ground and shook the dirt collecting on them off.

“I was taken aback a bit, is all.” He said, hanging his head, “But no. It's odd, but not revolting. You can't help the way you're born.”

She smiled wider than he had thought a person's face could go as she sniffled loudly.

“I really thought I was going to die out there.” She said, her soundless sob now a quiet laugh. “I guess we should do this properly.” She said with another sniffle. She straightened her back, and planted her feet solidly in view. Her eight black talons curling and digging into the earth like a hawk on a branch.

She let her green hood fall down her shoulders. At a triangle's point at the center of her forehead, just above the point between her two eyes, tiny light tan and white feathers sprouted instead of hair, covering her entire head and stretching down the back of her neck, disappearing beneath the baggy blouse, and the flowing verdant cloak. The fae-kin stretched her right arm in front of her — the same light tan and white feathers poking out from the bottom part of her sleeve.

“Aethel Birdsong.” She said, with a wide smile displayed across her round, freckled cheeks, “Water Adept; Heat Novice; Class D Adventurer, and wandering writer at your service.”

The Shepherd responded with a smile as he took her hand and shook it.

“Johnathan Galvin. Shepherd. Glad to have you for the next week and a half.” He said.

“Glad to be here!” Aethel responded, the wide smile never leaving her face.

“Now, let's go and catch up with the herd, before they wander too far off.”

She nodded and the three of them — Johnathan, Aethel, and Dolly slowly descended the hill to join Arthur and the meandering herd in the vast plains below.