Galendria

She ran her fingers over the shimmering canvas of her tent. It hummed her tune back to her, a gentle lullaby against her raucous nerves. Her tent would dissipate in a few hours, and she needed to sleep. The strident calls of the sshho–the birds didn’t help. Hopefully, it would be the Brikhvarnni’s watch when it dispersed. She would hate for the others to notice, especially after the dirt-diver fiasco.

She closed her eyes. The image of Fenn clutching at his arm as it bled invaded her mind. The sound of his scream. She curled up and clutched the blanket to her chin. Why? This place, he had called it dangerous. Enough to invite a warrior. It had turned out that Etnfrandia could be dangerous, too, if someone broke the rules as he had. It was as if his life, his future, their future, didn’t matter to him next to whatever he was seeking.

 All this for some lost history? Surely not. At best, he might find crumbling ruins of an ancient civilization. 

 Yet, he had seemed so sure, standing tall in defiance of his father. Before today, she had only ever seen him cower from him. 

What could possibly be so important to him? Tidbits of history hardly seemed like enough. Perhaps some lost magic?

The gods? He had mentioned them to his father, and had brought along the kindly holy woman, Mellark. Even before this venture, his research had helped her understand the divine symbolism interwoven into Pre-War Era songs. Does he seek them? Until now, she had believed he was honest. And he was horrid at telling lies. She would just ask him directly. 

The ground was hard against her shoulder and hips, and she turned over. He might not tell me. The way he had behaved, had begged her not to come, made her doubt that he had ever intended to tell her about any of this. Had he intended to return to Etnfrandia? 

He had abandoned her once before, when he had departed Etnfrandia for Hethbarn’s human nations. And he had planned to do it again for the Wildlands.

She shoved the idea away. He must have planned to come back. He agreed to our matroniage.

She reached instinctively for a small spyglass she kept in her pocket. It was a token from their childhood. They had come upon it in the forests near the Greenriver Valley in one of their many summer days spent playing there. She had once again dragged him from his books, and once again he had joined her eccentric game of pretend without question. He never questioned her oddities. At first, he’d asked to study the trinket, but in the end he’d let her have it. He had always been kind like that: kind to her not because she was a pretty face with some artistic merit and an important father. He had seen her. Accepted her. 

   She turned it in her hand, watching the crystal end glitter and refract in the soft light of her tent. If he had secrets, fine. So did she. Secrets that would jeopardize her citizenship if any Etnfrandian knew them. Any except Fenn. Fenn had always understood her. Now it was her turn.

He might ask me to leave again, for my safety. Well, she would not leave. She’d prove that she was useful. Not a burden, like the little goblin person had said. Important. Important to him, as he was to her.   

Is leaving actually an option? Wouldn’t I be arrested? She buried the thought under the blanket, nestling into the embroidery. The silver threads depicted the Willowbrith sigil, a sigil she still hoped to one day wear. When they did return, her father would help them avoid trouble. Fenn had clearly intended to return, at some point, just as he had before. He must have a plan. Or, at least an idea.

Spyglass in hand, she closed her eyes tightly. She breathed in and pictured herself succeeding, as she might for a performance. She stood next to Fenn, who gawked in awe at the ruins of a temple she’d discovered. The drake captain applauded, the holy woman bowed reverently, and the small goblin of a person was nowhere to be seen, scared off by Galendria’s watchful eye. She let the image lull her to sleep.

[A note from the author:

Hello readers! I am so sorry I have to split up chapters. The 15k character count is really killing me! I like the Tapas platform otherwise. *sigh. I hope you are enjoying the story. If so, don't be afraid to give me a like or comment.]