I had been so stupid.

“Why didn’t I tell her! I was so close! I was… damn it!” I punched my pillow with the rage of a thousand men and it flopped sadly onto the floor. I let myself fall against the bed, letting out a long sigh.

It had been six hours since our conversation, and night was rapidly advancing in Bùrian. From outside came the gentle lamplight and the soft creaking of windmills, together with the humming of the furnace’s pipelines. The Kiengiri furnace.

No idea how to feel about it. The ancient machine from which the livelihood of my family depended… it belonged to the race of beings that had condemned Kishirra and those of her kind to such a doom.

I had yet to meet one and I already hated all of them.

Why would they even do something like that?

Scratch that, I would never met them – they were all extinct, which meant that there was no fixing Kishirra, or anyone of her race.

“What a mess. And all I can do is count the reed’s growth and blush when speaking with people.” Which was true, but it did not really sound that good when you put it like that. “Unless…”

I sat on the creaking bed, raking through my brain to find a solution. What was the thing that helped me to get out of my room? The thought of Madama Kishirra fighting her personal battle while I wasted my life away.

What was it that had kept me from going up in flame every time I tried to look people in the eye?

Dumb luck.

But so far it had helped.

Maybe I could not do much to help Kishirra by myself.

“But that’s the problem, isn’t it? it’s because you are always trying to do everything all on your own, and she’s trying to do everything all on her own, so how could the two of you even work something out? It’s making me go crazy!” I gripped the pillow and shook it, trying to focus my fury on its softness. “No wonder you two can’t get anything done! You are both a pair of dumb loners who couldn’t count to three! You are a big dumbass, Lugana Delebasse, that’s what!”

The peak of anger passed, leaving me even more tired than before.

I slumped on the bed, panting softly.

I couldn’t do anything to help her on my own.

And then it hit me.

I couldn’t do anything on my own.

But… maybe if I…

“Oh, this is the worst idea in the history of bad ideas.” With a groan, I pulled the blankets over my head and tried to forget about it. I was not going to do anything like that. It wouldn’t help!

And besides it would require me to spend even more time outside. Out of my comfortable room where I had everything that I needed, and it did not matter if a kind and tragic Elf was not there to stroke my head with her smooth hands and to tell me everything was going to be alright.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“I am not going to do it. That’s final!”

+++

It started a few days after her last conversation with the Delebasse girl. Kishirra crouched over the carcass, running her fingers through the short hairs.

At least she had arrived quick enough this time.

“Rest now,” she whispered, closing the eyes of the sheep. There were a couple more laying about, but the majority of the flock had managed to flee uphill. For once, what lay strewn over the rocks was the remains of a pack of three Chalkers.

Perhaps she had put a little too much effort into it. This was not her battle. She was here to complete her Quest and kill the source responsible for these monsters, not to take care of these people.

Just to pass her Test… and understand what it exactly may it be.

Nothing else.

But it was hard to think the same way she always did, now that she had spent so much time with the Delebasse girl.

Lugana. She could say that name, at least in her own head.

Kishirra turned to pick up her poleaxe from the corpse of the closest Chalker. She had managed not to break even a plaque this time. maybe she should have had, otherwise how could she meet with Lugana once again? She must have scarred the poor Mannish girl with tales of her kind and the Kiengiri. She ought to be more careful in the future if she wanted to keep a good memory of her until the end.

Then again, why did she care so much?

These days her thoughts were confused and her heart troubled. She ought to spend more time in prayer. One could hope to get a better hold upon her emotions upon their third life, but she was a fool, and a terribly dull one.

“Hey,” came a male voice from a distance. Kishirra’s fine ears picked up the direction and she turned to the left, where she spotted a pale face peeking through the rocks. “Was that you? Are you the one who messed with my flock?” It seemed to come from a Mannish shepherd, likely the one who used to own the poor animals.

Kishirra steeled her heart. This was one of the reasons she did not want to deal with these people. They would not comprehend what she did, and she did not even have the excuse of noble goals to justify herself.

“I did not touch your animals,” she replied. “I just had to dispatch a group of far more dangerous predators.”

“Stop being obnoxious, son,” said another voice, older and rougher. A springy old man stood up from behind the rocks, pulling with him a younger male who must have been his offspring. “Excuse us for his tone, Madama. He’s just upset about them circumstances, he is.”

Kishirra blinked.

That was new.

She had expected a discussion, perhaps an argument.

“Whatever you want to me to say,” the son replied, sighing. “It does not change the fact three more sheep died.”

“That may be so,” Kishirra interjected. “And more would, if it had not been for…” she bit her tongue. Was she going to fall under the sway of her pride? If it had not been for my vigilance.

But she was just looking out for herself.

This had been a mistake.

“Peace,” she stated holding up her hand, three fingers sticking out in the universal greeting sign of the Holy Land. These people should know about it, or otherwise pick it up. “I will be leaving now. Apologies if I was not able to save all of your flock.” She turned to jump towards the next cliff. If she was quick she could get some time to retire and pray a little. Withdrawing herself from the world would do her good.

Surely it couldn’t make things any worse.

“Hey! Madama Elf!”

Kishirra stopped. What else might they want from her now? Reparations over a few dead animals?

“I apologize,” the younger of the two said, lowering his gaze. “Those sheep are all we have, and we have been losing calves all year. So if you helped kill those beasts or whatever those were… thank you.”

Kishirra frowned. The father laughed.

“What he wants to say is that he’s sorry for speaking ill of you. Ah, and we have cheese and beer at our farm, if you’d like them. As thanks!”

The older man smiled. He was at least sixty paces away, so Kishirra couldn’t pinpoint every wrinkle on his skin with absolute precision, but he seemed to have honest intentions.

A strange feeling bloomed in her heart. Surely this was yet another pitfall of her pride.

She was doing this for herself. She was doing this because she did not want to become like her next-of-kin. There was no room in her heart for sheep, nor shepherds.

But perhaps there was room for them in the embrace of Ansàrra.

Biting her lip, trembling with every step, Kishirra turned and walked towards the two.