Fëor still made them breakfast.

But he was grumpy and a bit miserable.

“Why not have Valýría do it?” he complained, playing with his food.

“She’s headed to the border with Várnos,” Hálin explained. “Right after your encounter, birds came from the west bearing news that—“

“‘an besides,” Belor interrupted forcefully, glaring at Hálin, “ya spent more time with ‘er than anyone else. Whether ya like it or not, yer the one that knows ‘er best.”

“I don’t care about what’s ‘best’ or ‘most logical’,” huffed Fëor. “I don’t want to go. I never go to assemblies, anyway. I always vote by squirrel.”

Belor slumped onto the table, rolling his eyes.

“Now, now,” Hálin soothed, “there’s no need to be childish about it.”

“I’m not being childish,” Fëor snipped. “It just affects me more than most. Assemblies are so draining…and then they want me to speak as a witness on top of it all?”

Fëor slumped onto the table, joining Belor in defeat.

“I’m sorry, Fëor,” Hálin said, “but if you don’t come, the whole grove will be at your doorstep to pester you about it. Why not get it done with all at once instead of having to repeat yourself over and over again?”

“…”

”……”

“Fine,” he relented. “I don’t like it, but whatever. When’s the assembly?”

Hálin and Belor exchanged a look.

“Three dawns from now,” they replied in unison.

“That soon?!”

“Well, this is considered an emergency.”

“I-I guess I’ll bring stuff to make tea with, then,” Fëor decided. “I’ll be anxious, so I’ll want something with luamýr in it. Perhaps—“

He paused, furrowing his brows as he stared blankly past his friends.

“W-what is it?” Hálin asked, concerned.

“Oh…uh, nothing. It’s just that…well, I wonder if that’s how an herbalist would think? I wonder what else may have a calming effect…”

“Stop right there,” Belor warned. “It’s fine if ya want to play with yer herbs, but I still don’ like how all this talk came about. Yer actin’ different. That cinder changed ya.”

“Cinder seems a bit harsh.”

“Fëor,” Hálin pressed sternly. “What exactly are you going to say about that Eldásr when you go to the assembly? Everyone might get suspicious of you—yes, even you—if you’re too friendly.”

A moment of silence passed as Fëor’s friends scrutinized him.

“But…that’s the thing,” Fëor finally answered. “She was nothing but friendly to me, so what else should I be in return? Do you want me to just mindlessly repeat everyone’s prejudice instead of being honest about my own experience? She was warm and kind, but everyone insists that she’s here to cause trouble. You even called her ‘cinder,’ Belor, despite having never met her. Isn’t that…wrong?”

“She’s playin’ ya like a harp,” Belor quipped, shaking his head.

“You’ll cause quite the stir if you talk about her like that at the assembly,” Hálin warned.

“Then they shouldn’t call me as a witness,” Fëor snapped. “If they only want people to say what they want to hear to justify their assumptions, then they really should have called Valýría as a witness instead of me.”

“We told you, she’s—“

“And Belor,” Fëor continued unabated, “dismissing my feelings like that isn’t only an affront to me, but also unfair to women in general. This isn’t as simple as a man being infatuated with a woman; nor is it a case of a woman manipulating a man with a flirtatious facade. That’s not how our conversation went. I’ll admit that I’m a bit gullible at times…and I did find her pretty…but even Bëolnos—Bëolnos—agreed that she wasn’t acting nefariously. So why does everyone insist otherwise?”

“Because o’ the war!” Belor boomed, fists slamming against the table. “Jus’ after yer date with that lass, birds came ta warn us that troops entered Gälenor! Troops, Fëor! I know yer an honest lad, but these are not tha times fer bein’ soft. Pull yerself together.”

“T-troops?” Fëor stuttered. “Troops from the west? B-but…that’s….”

“Yes,” Belor confirmed. “Soldiers from Pelría with weapons an’ armor more beautiful an’ brilliant than anythin’ my kindred have ever made.”

“And a fire gleaming in their eyes,” Hálin added sheepishly.

“We knew they’d come eventually,” Belor spat, “but that girl comin’ seems ta have sped everythin’ up. It’s not’a coincidence. Can’t be. Nothin’ like that happens by chance. They’re connected somehow.”

“Maybe she’s a princess or something,” Hálin wondered.

“Bah! Ain’t no way. A princess wouldn’t walk all this way. An’ why would she, eh? It’s dirty an’ backwards here, ‘cording ta them. Their folk hate this place.”

“But why would troops come after a…normal Eldásr?”

“Valýría prob’ly had it right. I bet she’s been spyin’ fer ‘em.”

Fëor was too stunned to argue with them, let alone listen. The changing world around him was rapidly becoming too real for him to handle. In fact, he still tried to deny it.

“They’re not actually…real, though, are they? The soldiers and Pelría, I mean. Like, that’s all just stuff from the realm of stories, right? You’re just saying that because you’re treating me like a child.”

“After all ya’ve been through this week…”

“…you’re seriously going to say it’s all just a story?”

His friends glared at him.

“I, uh…I guess not.”

“We’re scared, Fëor,” Belor said with his face buried in his hands. “Tha’s all. I know it’s not an excuse, but we honestly don’t mean ta be bad folk. We’re just…scared.”

“Keep that in mind when you speak at the assembly,” Hálin urged. “If you want to be honest like you were with us just now, that’s fine…but be prepared for an uproar.”

Be prepared? Fëor was far from ready; and even three years, let alone a mere three dawns, would hardly change that.