Drektanion was soaring overhead, lighting the sky with a soft light, as they left the cavern behind. They weren’t on the other side of the same mountain. Phoebe didn’t really have any idea where they were.

She gently tried to fix her hair as she rode along comfortably on her wolf’s back. Thinking to herself about the implications of what had just happened. She’d decided to become the witch, the hero the world needed, because she loved Gruna.

That sounded a little close to a proposal, and an engagement, than she was comfortable with. The two of them hadn’t really gone on a date yet, and with Elion around that was unlikely to happen anytime soon. He was far too inquisitive and crass for Phoebe’s liking.

“So… I guess we could do… Proper introductions?” Phoebe said to break the silence, “I’m Phoebe, I was an office worker. Now, I got no idea. But I’m figuring it out. I’m also scared of spiders.”

Elion chuckled, “I guess that’s fair. You and Gruna have clearly spent some quality time together. I’m a newcomer.”

Gruna glared over at the implication, “If the dragon had not vouched for you, I would find it necessary for the peace of the world to remove you from it.”

“If I didn’t laugh, I’d weep.” Elion’s tone completely changed, “Fine. Here it is. The big back story. I’m the oldest living elf. I’ve seen my people through a bunch of wars and absolute shit. I saw the dragons eat my wife, my kids. Then… After all that shit… I saw the witch, and that was the first time I came face to face with true evil.”

Gruna softened, “She sent a vampire after my tribe.”

“You’re lucky.” Elion replied and went silent, staring straight ahead.

Phoebe winced, “I… I’ve never been to war. Never seen any of it. Closest I come to any of this, is saying goodbye to my grandma in a hospital. Not exactly the same. I… I don’t know sorrow, not like either of you. I don’t think I’m worthy of this, and, and…”

She ran out of things to say, and she knew she hadn’t said enough. Not to even begin to apologise for the horrors that the two of them had lived through. Yet somehow, the world seemed to expect her to be the one to make it right for them. She didn’t see how she possibly could.

The only sound from the group as they continued to cross the landscape, was the breathing of the wolf. Around them, the trees had been replaced with wide open fields of wheat. The kind that seemed to have been planted by farmers, though no gatherers or machinery was anywhere in sight.

Nor could Phoebe spy any houses as far as the horizons allowed. There was a distant road, that they seemed to be slowly moving in the direction of. Finally having her feet off the ground was making them feel a lot better, and Phoebe was promising that she’d replace the heels in the nearest town.

What was an old school shoe shop called? A cobbler? She would go and see a cobbler. She might not have money, but maybe she could polish shoes or do cleaning or something. She could not keep wearing heels, especially not when she kept having to run in them.

Thinking of things to buy, Phoebe also sincerely hoped to buy a helmet. If she couldn’t get a doctor, hopefully she could at least get something to protect her head, because everyone did seem to keep going for it. Maybe there were also protective spells? Not that Gruna seemed to have any.

She was armour covered, despite the holy outfit she was part of. Also seemed that orc skin wasn’t arrow proof like in some stories she’d heard. No need for a giant axe, people were just people and easy to carve up.

Phoebe nearly vomited as a flash of Gruna getting ripped in half danced across her very active imagination.

“Why don’t you wear a helmet?”

Gruna looked up at her from where she was trodding, and gave a low laugh, “It is caused by my teeth, I am afraid. Whilst there are many orcish warriors, few wear metallic armour. It is braver to go without.”

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“Brave and stupid are very close together.” Phoebe shook her head.

“Agreed. However, as it is the case, there are few orcs who have need of a helmet. Such a small audience is not profitable, and so one can only have one made upon demand.”

Phoebe winced, “Yeesh. Private armourer. That’s gotta charge for shit.”

“If that means that you consider them expensive, there is much truth to the statement.”

Elion yawned, “I always thought getting close enough to get hit by the asshole attacking, was the dumb thing. Bow is smarter than an axe.”

“You do make use of every mechanical advantage afforded to you.” Gruna replied sourly.

Phoebe frowned, “You’re still all about the brave, aren’t you? There’s a balance to it.”

“Go’ruuk rewards those that act with the heart of a warrior. It is my desire to be an example of that bravery, always. Thus, I must be able to be an example of it tomorrow, also.”

Elion shrugged, “Still reckon ya an idiot.”

“So are you, picking on my girlfriend, whilst I’m riding a giant magic wolf.” Phoebe pointed out.

As she said it, Phoebe instantly realised it was the first time she had referred to Gruna as a girlfriend, and that the two of them hadn’t actually discussed what they were to each other. Adrenaline was the basis of what they had so far, and that wasn’t exactly something that led to longlived relationships.

Elion missed her awkwardness, looking ahead, and just laughed, “You named that grumpy bitch yet?”

“He’s a boy. Balls and all.” Phoebe replied quickly, “And um… I was thinking… Ghost? How does that sound?”

The wolf gave a little whine and gestured towards her with his head. Phoebe grinned and reached down, ruffling his fur, “Whose a good boy! You’re a good boy! My Ghost! Yes, you are. You’re my Ghost.”

Gruna considered her carefully, “You are quite familiar with the creature. Does this connection run from -”

“I am not a witch.” Phoebe said quickly, and then shrugged, “Nah. I’ve owned a dog before. You ever had a pet?”

“I have not had need for a creature that might assist me in battle, as of yet.”

Elion chuckled, “Orcs don’t got pets, girl. They either fight with their dogs, or eat ’em.”

“Eat!?”

Gruna winced, “A last resort, when droughts and famine are common. It is not something that any seeks to achieve. It is not desirable.”

“I… Can get that.” Phoebe shivered.

Elion scoffed, “Oh, because orcs are so very picky about what they eat, aren’t they? I was actually there at the Black Gate.”

“Speak of it, and I shall slay you in your sleep.” Gruna shot back.

“They ate -”

Elion was cut off as Gruna’s fist landed at the base of his neck and instantly had him eating dirt. The orc crouched down and grabbed him by his hair, “What part of the threat did you believe to be insincere? One does not appreciate being reminded of the horrors of their ancestors.”

“Germans probably hate people remembering Nazis, too.” Phoebe mused, “I’m Aussie, and we kinda hate remember what happened to the Stolen Generations. It wasn’t long ago enough. We totally fucked up. And it is ‘we’. The crap done doesn’t disappear just because it’s painful.”

Gruna stood up, dusting down her hands and resuming her walk beside Ghost, “Indeed. The horrors perpetrated by my people are many. My tribe was at the Black Gate, like so many of our kind. We… We did great evil, there. I am afraid I am not yet ready to speak of it.”

“Black Gate was a thousand years ago.” Elion dusted himself off, “Not like you can remember being there, holy apprentice. So chill a bit, eh?”

“The Stolen Generations was only forty-ish years back.” Phoebe winced, “We… We took kids from the tribes that came before us. Taught the kids they were white, like us. Totally fucked them up. Also beat, enslaved, raped and more. Because of course we fucking did.”

Gruna looked up with pity, “The sins of your people are a hard thing to confront, to know.”

“Met a couple of them.” Phoebe continued weakly, shaking her head, “The scars… It was… It was like I could see their soul? They were scarred inside and out. Torn to pieces. They didn’t know who they were, because we fucking stole that from them. Stole their names, their faces. Lost them to themselves.”

“My skin is green. Yet I did not find you opposed to our comradeship. You have shown me affection, without hesitation.” Gruna tried to reassure her, but Phoebe was feeling bitter and angry. She could never forget the pain that she had seen.

Elion was as carefree as ever. “Shit happens. Sometimes it is a bunch of assholes, sometimes it’s fate. You can never escape your destiny. Sometimes someone has to hurt, for someone to become the hero they need to be.”

“That is a totally fucked up way to look at things.” Phoebe stared.

The elf shrugged, “I’ve seen cities rise, and burn. You reckon lives are so very precious. But we’re all just working on being a little puzzle piece among the whole.”

Phoebe shook her head, “Gross.”

“His worldviews are more common than I would find desirable.” Gruna nodded, “Yet, I am afraid there is some logic to them, as unfortunate as it may be. If one believes the gods never make mistakes, one must believe destiny is worth more than our lives.”

“Please tell me you aren’t one.”

Gruna shook her head with a smile, “Of course not. Go’ruuk happily admits his mistakes. He will also listen, when a mortal asks him to change his mind. Only the most foolish believe our god to be infallible.”

“Destiny is beyond the gods.” Elion shook his head.

Phoebe cringed, and then instead turned back to Gruna and tried to get her to teach her more of the words that the trees understood. Letting the orc teach her something she couldn’t exactly see a use for, but it let the two of them be together - and ignore the weird elf.