Pallas sat still atop her hammock, strung together from a generous helping of ropes and fibres the Naphthalians had provided them with. She felt as her soles traced gently across the blades of grass beneath her feet, swaying from grass to tarp and back to grass as she drank in the tranquillity of the campsite.

It had been a slow two days, despite what they’d expected. While they’d initially hoped Soleiman and Rumi would turn up not too long after they arrived at Naphthalia, the eventual realisation that the two of them would probably take a fair bit longer prompted them to set up for a much more protracted stay- upgrading from lying atop the tarp on the ground to more pleasant hammocks.

She simply swayed forward and backwards gently, hearing the rustling of leaves occasionally in the background, feeling as the warm afternoon sky bathed her undeserving skin in their soft rays. Her eyes glassed over in a state of quiet rumination.

It should’ve been peaceful. But it was far from it. She’d spent nearly every waking moment worrying herself sick over her other three teammates’ conditions, fighting to keep what lurked in the pits of her awareness away. That unquenchable, unsilenceable guilt that ate away at her, slowly.

Soon came a distinct rustling in the distance though, a sound she recognised as the shifting of the underbrush and the squishing of the grass caused only by someone walking towards her. And judging by the rhythmic sounds of this specific person’s gait, she realised she wouldn’t have to worry too much about at least one other party member.

“Qingxi?”

The Chitite emerged from between the trees, her bandaged face appearing first from amidst the verdant vines.

“Mmh.”

Pallas watched as she silently made her way over to her hammock opposite hers, adjusting her clean white skirt- courtesy of the villagers, before sitting down.

“Are you feeling better now?”

The Chitite raised her eyes up to look at Pallas, bringing them back down after a while. Without saying a word, she nodded.

Pallas took her eyes off of Qingxi, perusing the state of the camp as she leant back slightly. Watching as the pot that held their dinner quietly boiled away in a corner.

Quietly, quietly. Its thin fumes rising up to the treetops above and out into the atmosphere.

“Pallas,” Qingxi eventually said.

“Yeah?”

Qingxi didn’t respond for a while, leaving Pallas’ response out in the air. Pallas thought the Chitite had opened her mouth once or twice to try and say something, though it was hard to tell through the bandages.

“You feel guilty, don’t you?”

“...How did you know?”

“I could tell. By your face.”

“Oh,” Pallas said. “Yeah… I do.”

“Is it because of the villagers?”

“Mm… yeah. I think so,” she said. “To think that we’re just sitting around while whatever destroyed Mesimeos continues to roam around, destroying who-knows-how many other villages. How many other families.”

“How many other people?”

“Yeah.”

“Mmm,” Qingxi hummed. “Have you heard of the story of the Watchraven?”

“I don’t think so,” Pallas replied, going through all the bedtime stories Soleiman had read her over the past decade.

“It’s from a Xiafan storybook,” Qingxi said. “And I think it might just be what you need to hear.”

There once was a village, nestled in between Shafraturriyahn peaks. The rivers that flowed through it brought fresh water aplenty, and the woods that surrounded it were home to a great wealth of animals. Animals the villagers could catch and slaughter for food.

In time, these villagers learnt to domesticate these animals. Hoarding them up in tiny pens and stuffy barn houses, raising them from young up till adulthood for the sole purpose of harvesting them for food. All so that they wouldn’t have to worry about hunting all the time, and so that they could focus their efforts on other endeavours. Growing their businesses, polishing their sculptures, improving their medicines.

And indeed, the village grew large and prosperous, its herd growing with it as more and more people flocked to join its ranks.

But one day, a raven arrived at the village’s doorstep. The bird, its ink black feathers bearing the colour of the pestilence upon them, frightened the villagers. It frightened them so much that the villagers began massacring all their animals in a terrified frenzy, leaving not a single animal alive.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The raven, horrified by what it had caused and by the hunting parties that the humans drummed up to restock their pens, fled. Flying off to a nearby wolf pack to tell them what had happened.

It told the wolf pack, “Beware! Beware! The humans are there!” Warning them of the looming threat, advising them to stay clear of their hunting parties.

And indeed, the wolf pack avoided the humans, evading capture time and time again.

But they wanted more help from the raven.

You see, they had become friends with a local bear, whose cubs followed her around everywhere.

“It would be a real shame if they were to get caught,” the wolves told the raven.

And so the raven made her rounds again, keeping an eye out for any hunting parties as she went to warn the bears of the humans.

Luckily, it had worked for the bears too, and they were likewise spared a gruesome death at the hands of the villagers.

But the bears had friends of their own, too. And their friends had friends aplenty.

The sheep, the pigs, the cows and the dogs. The rabbits, the ducks, the fish and the frogs.

And so the raven made her rounds again. Again and again, visiting the village, spying on their hunting parties, working all throughout both day and night to keep her animal friends safe from the humans.

But the humans soon grew irritated. Their hunts kept coming back with no food, and the forests and the rivers almost felt as though they had gone barren. Hungry and desperate, they turned to the one thing they had consistently seen in the skies above them.

It wasn’t long until the raven was killed. And when she died, all the animals no longer knew when to watch out for the humans. So one by one, they were captured, thrown into pens and cages and bred to become food once more.

At least until the next raven came.

“…How about that, Pallas?”

The Soteira looked down at her hands. Covered in ink black feathers. She clenched her fists, trying as best as she could to steady herself- steeling her heart and calming her lungs. Squeezing her eyes shut as she felt the tears begin to force their way out of her.

Then, she felt a hand on her shoulder, and the hammock she sat atop swayed in turn.

“I hope you understand what I’m trying to say.”

“Those humans,” Pallas said, voice wavering. “They released some of the animals out into the woods.”

“Is that so?”

Pallas nodded, sniffling.

“So that the wild herds would grow big enough for them to hunt again if anything bad happened.”

“I see.”

“At… at first, they tried releasing the skinniest among the animals, those that would make bad butchering,” she continued. “But after they found they were too weak to survive on their own, they began releasing the young. Separating them from their parents.”

“All so they could have more to hunt, and more to eat?”

Pallas nodded.

“Mmm,” Qingxi hummed. She wrapped her hand about Pallas’ other shoulder, drawing her in. “In any case, I’m sure this next raven, with her other bird friends, will do good to free those animals. Once and for all.”

And they remained in that embrace, Pallas gathering herself and her composure in the gentle understanding that Qingxi provided her.

Some time later, as the camp fell to silence with even the low roll of the pot having come to an end, the Chitite’s feline ears twitched upright. Rotating about as they triangulated the source of a new noise, squishing its way towards their camp.

“Rumi and Soleiman,” Qingxi said. “They’re here.”

“Soteira! Your fellows have arrived!”

Alexandros emerged from beyond the vines, Soleiman and Rumi following behind him.

And what a state they were in.

They had lost the vast majority of their equipment, the only thing left of the provisions they’d been provided with by the Thosmodenes from both the ship and the Estate being the tiny bag that sat upon Soleiman’s back.

And though uncountable words could be said about how incredibly dishevelled and unkempt they looked, all of that paled in the face of the relief Pallas felt.

“Soleiman!” Pallas was first to exclaim, jumping off of the hammock and leaving Qingxi mildly startled as she swung back and forth.

Weakly, he raised his unbandaged arm up.

She skittered forward, Alexandros stepping aside to let her take both of their unwounded hands into hers.

She looked like she was about to say something, but…

She pulled them into a hug instead.

“Missed you,” Pallas said.

“Missed you too,” Soleiman responded, hugging back with his one hand as best he could while Rumi patted her back.

“Thank goodness you made it,” Qingxi said, relieved. Putting a hand on Rumi’s shoulder, she continued, apologising to Rumi for the injury that had stolen away four of her ten fingers.

Rumi shook her head dismissively.

“It’s okay. Because now we’re all alive.”

Alexandros soon left them some time to be alone, and the party members reconvened atop the tarp while Pallas and Qingxi got to ladling the pot’s fragrant contents out into decently sized wooden bowls. The sudden aroma of thoroughly boiled chicken and herbs spilling out into the camp as the sky slowly turned orange above them.

There, the party was whole at last. There was no longer any forest or soldier or untold phantasmic horror that stood between them. No more corpses, nor masks in the dark nor giant headless man-dogs that would haunt them. No more Hashashiyyin, nor Gravitas, nor travelling through the Minervan forest. For now, it was just them sat in a circle across from each other, revelling in the delight of being together once again and going over the great wealth of experiences all four of them had fought through the past few days.

All the trauma and all the triumphs, all the successes and all the setbacks.

All the past that lay behind them, and the uncertain future that lay ahead.

And though success was far from guaranteed, that was okay. Because now they were all alive- set to see another day.