Sheilah opened her eyes, headache pounding dully behind her eyes.

Her body groaned and ached with exhaustion; she hadn’t slept well since she’d left the Terrace of the Dragon.

How long ago had that been?

She reached and gingerly touched the swelling lump on her head. Whatever- whoever- had hit her had known how to do it.

The Clans were not always harmonious. There were deeply bitter feuds between them, and only worked together reluctantly- and at the behest of the Dragon Clan.

She was surprised that a Clan would venture this far north when it wasn’t even time for the prospective adults to venture north into the Ashlands.

She turned her head.

She looked up at her friend with a dazed expression.

“What is it, Fialla?” She croaked.

“Are you awake?” The other girl asked cautiously.

“I’m always awake.” Sheilah rasped. “Are you going to headbutt me again?”

“Are you going to try to kill me again?” Fialla retorted.

Sheilah grunted, and winced at the feeling of her throat feeling shredded.

“I hurt everywhere.” She complained.

“You haven’t slept in some time.” Fialla agreed.

Sheilah nodded, rubbing her head where the elven girl had headbutted her. “I haven’t slept well... since.” She shook her head a little and immediately regretted it.

Fialla gave her a compassionate smile. “I know.”

“Why couldn’t it have been me?” Sheilah pleaded plaintively.

Fialla embraced her without saying anything. They lay like that for what seemed like eternity, each embracing the other.

Fialla wiped at the crusted dragonling blood on Sheilah’s face with a finger.

“You should probably take a bath. How long do you think you’ve been out here?” She asked curiously.

“Haven’t you been following me?” Sheilah asked, vaguely aware that she’d been followed here and there during her rambling hunts across the Redstone.

“You caught me.” Fialla replied, and then affectionately kissed Sheilah’s cheek. “We’re not far from a pool. Shall we take a dip?” She asked solicitously.

Sheilah took a breath and all the days and weeks of her relentless hunting seemed to catch up with her.

“I think if I do, I’ll fall asleep in the water.” She replied, her body suddenly heavy with exhaustion.

Fialla laughed a little. “I’ll make sure you don’t drown.” She promised, and then pulled away.

“You know your father asked me to skin the dragonlings you hunted and bring back the hides?” Fialla asked, tapping her thumb against her dragon-tooth dagger at her hip. “I think he’s making your armor.”

Dragonling hide armor. It took months to make. Sheilah blinked. Just how long had she been wandering?

“Wait, you’ve been skinning them?” She asked, confused.

Fialla nodded. “You haven’t been doing that at all.” she accused. “You’re supposed to do that, you know.”

Sheilah did know. It was important to skin the dragonlings you hunted. Dragonling hides would be cured and tanned into leather, that leather would be turned into armor that would be worn into the Ashlands.

How had she missed something so important?

“Thank you, Fialla.” Sheilah thanked her friend.

“It was nothing. I got my share of dragonlings, too.” Fialla replied. “So, about that pool?”

“Pool?” Sheilah asked, struggling to a sitting position.

“I don’t think anyone else knows of it.” Fialla confided, rising to her feet. “It’s in one of the box canyons that’s not far from here.” She pointed.

“Box-” Sheilah started, and then glared at Fialla. “You know those things are death traps.”

Fialla nodded. “I’m not stupid.” She defended herself while slapping the dirt from her hands. “I checked out everything very carefully.”

Sheilah let out a sigh and pushed herself up, staunchly trying to ignore the ugly, sick pounding in her head.

“Lead on.”

*****

Fialla led Sheilah into a cave where the air was heavy and thick with moisture, a pool of water, warm to the touch, bubbled gently.

“What is this place?” Sheilah asked, her head spinning.

“I found it when I was tracking you. I don’t know if anyone knows it’s here.” Fialla replied, indifferently stripping off her dusty leathers and climbing into the pool. She kept her dagger and her belt pouch close to hand.

Danger lurked in the redstone valleys everywhere.

Sheilah stripped out of her clothes self-consciously, suddenly reminded of the sorry state of them.

“If you turn around and lean back in the water, I’ll wash your hair for you.” Fallia offered, and Sheilah complied. How long had it been since she’d even done something like that? Dirt and small bits of twigs and leaves spread out in the water.

“There you go, you certainly look better with clean hair.” Fialla murmured as she worked her fingers on Sheilah’s scalp.

“How long...” Sheilah asked, and then swallowed. “How long have I been out here?”

“Hmm.” Fialla murmured as her hands moved to Sheilah’s shoulders, digging into the muscles, releasing knots of tension she didn’t even know she had. “You’ve been here hunting dragonlings enough to make the entire Clan wonder if you planned to hunt every dragonling in the Redstone.”

“That’s not really an answer.” Sheilah argued, sitting up and nearly losing her footing. The nearly-boiling water had relaxed her body enough that it didn’t seem to want to function properly.

“Months.” Fialla replied simply. “You’ve hunted enough dragonlings that I’ve lost count.”

Most of the Clans understood simple math. Anything roughly above twenty was considered “a lot”, and it mostly revolved around tribes. A tribe could only afford to feed so many families, so when a tribe grew to “a lot”, it was divided.

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At least twenty dragonlings over the course of... months. It was only necessary to hunt that many between the ages of ten and sixteen- before you headed to the Ashlands. Traditionally, it was one dragonling for every year you’d lived, though you no longer needed to hunt them after your dragon hunt.

“Where... where am I?” Sheilah asked curiously.

“You're near the passes that lead into the wastes.” Fialla answered honestly. “I was worried you would head into the Ashlands, so I made my move.”

Sheilah immediately moved to retort “Why shouldn’t I head into the Ashlands?” but eyed her leathers. Her simple clothing wouldn’t stand up to the harsh environment of the Ashlands.

A wave of dizziness and exhaustion washed over her. She was going to fall asleep in the water if she wasn’t careful.

“So far.” Sheilah muttered in awe. It would take months to return to the Terrace of the Dragon.

“Will you... will you come home with me?” Fialla asked. “By now your father has made your armor.”

“I think...” Sheilah muttered thickly, the hot springs waters loosening her tension, “I think...” She tried again, and fell asleep in Fialla’s arms.

*****

Fialla chuckled, and carefully lifted Sheilah from the water, staggering against the uncertain footing.

Fialla was Sheilah’s shadow, had been since childhood. Whatever Sheilah did, Fialla was quick to duplicate. Fialla was strong and quick and flexible, and when Sheilah began her death march through the Redstone Valleys, Fialla followed after.

She hadn’t hunted nearly as many dragonlings as the relentless, dead-eyed girl she loved and idolized with all of her heart, but between skinning and carrying hides back and forth from Sheilah’s rampage, she’d proved herself an excellent and efficient hunter.

She hoped that when it was time to go into the wastes, she would be able to go with Sheilah.

She ran out of the cave, her lithe, coltish legs scissoring in the moonlight as she dashed to her cache of goods she kept with her as she stalked Sheilah. Retrieving it and hurrying back to the cave, she wrapped Sheilah and herself into the bedroll and dreamed sweet dreams of Sheilah that made her heart ache.

*****

Sheilah dreamed once again of the Tyrant Dragon looming over everything, its enormous eyes pitiless orbs of unlimited fury and flame, and all of the Dragon Clan ancestors inexorably walking past her to collect Caidi.

A dream she hadn’t had in... how long?

She opened her eyes and was confronted with the tip of one of Fialla’s ears and a drift of the half-elves’ hair, glossy black like hers.

The Wild Elves and Half-elves all had silvery-white hair except those that had become part of the dragon clan. When you fed on the flesh of the dragon, it changed you. Your nails and hair turned glossy black.

Fialla’s breathing was slow and steady, and Sheilah could feel Fialla’s heartbeat next to hers.

Even though they were nearly the same age, days apart, Fialla seemed to behave like the younger of the two of them, trailing after Sheilah like a shadow, learning and copying everything Sheilah did.

It must have been hard for the half-elven girl to keep up with Sheilah. Sheilah was a full-blooded human. She was taller and stronger than the lithe girl. She hesitantly ran her hand down Fialla’s back and the half-elven girl mumbled something incomprehensible.

There was no doubt about it; Fialla’s back was corded with muscle. The girl had been struggling to keep up with her.

She struggled free of the smaller girl’s embrace, kindled a small fire, eyed Fialla’s rations and grimaced in disgust. The nutrient-rich blocks of corn, meat, fruits and nuts no longer appealed to her. She climbed out of the small cave and into the sunlight, her stomach rumbling.

She wanted- The thought of killing a dragonling, savagely hacking out its heart and eating it, drinking its blood, smearing it all over herself, tearing into the meat, digging her teeth into the raw flesh-

She blinked and shook her head.

She was human. She wasn’t a beast. She needed to return home.

She eyed the passages that would lead into the Ashlands, and then turned her head to look back towards the Redstone Valleys.

Which of them was her home, though?

“It’s a happy sight to see you up and awake, Sheilah, but I think you should get dressed.” Fialla called out from behind her.

Sheilah blinked a few times, and looked down at herself. Her thoughts seemed to be especially sluggish this morning.

Clothes.

She needed her weapons. No one should be this far into the Redstone Valley without a weapon close at hand. Several, really.

“Clothes.” She repeated dully, and then nodded. “Right.”

She suddenly shifted her foot and stomped down; a lizard squirmed beneath her foot. She plucked it up from the ground, effortlessly ripped off its head with her clawlike fingernails, and while dropping the head into the sandy dirt she bit into the body.

Fialla eyed Sheila with a mixture of shock, admiration and a certain amount of disgust and revulsion. The lizard Sheilah had stepped on was known for its extremely venomous bite and its blurring running speed. For the girl to stomp on it and rip its head off was both shocking and admirable. However, seeing the girl bite into the thing’s body, chomping into its innards hungrily- this was not a thing to admire. It was savage and disgusting.

There was something else, too. A thin golden ring burned around Sheilah’s eyes that was bright in the dark.