I had never looked forward to the lemon festival. Not like this.

It used to just mean the end of the year.

Before I met Madama Kishirra, I spent that night cuddled up in my room, with my books, trying to push away the echoes of the sounds coming from the outside. Who needed to get out there, with the songs and the dances and the drinks, when everything I needed was at arm’s reach?

It was a weird thought to have in that moment, standing atop a ladder as I knotted one more green ribbon to the lemon branch.

“Is this alright?” I asked to the guy who sold me milk a few months before. His name was Berardo, if I remembered correctly, but I was not sure enough to try and call him by his name. It was either that or ‘dude’ and I doubted people in this world knew what a ‘dude’ was.

Maybe I’ll just put his name to memory as the milk guy.

“Yes, that’s good, but please tighten the other one a little more,” he pointed his finger at another branch, where in fact the ribbon hung a little too loose.

“Sure.” I leaned to the right and fixed it. It felt weird to be doing the same thing as many other Bùrian inhabitants, all of them busy fixing more decorations, getting the lemon liquor prepared or affixing the candles everywhere. The festival would officially begin by the afternoon, but the most important parts always happened by night.

These people did not know about fireworks, but they had their own traditions. The biggest attraction was a large bonfire which represented the bad things from the old years giving way to the good things to come for the new one. Unlike on Earth, they celebrated the new year at the start of fall, when they first got together for grape harvest. It was yet another weird aspect that used to bug me to no end.

Like speaking to people.

I mean, it’s not like I enjoyed it or anything. I would still very much prefer to leave and hike on the hills, looking for more interesting herbs and flowers to add to my book – I was going to start it, honest!

But maybe my efforts over the last few weeks would allow Kishirra to feel a little bit more at home here. People would recognize her name when she walked around.

If nothing else, I was still looking forward to her company.

Wonder where she was now…

“Hey are you alright?” The guy (Milk Dude) from below shouted, cupping his hands over his mouth. I blinked.

“Sorry, I was just lost in thought. I think everything’s alright here. Do you need anything else? Maybe some help with the candles?”

“She’s always like that,” said Mom’s voice, coming from below. She looked up at me with a strange smile, cocking her head to the side. “A bit lost in her own world.”

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I blushed atop the ladder. She had no idea what that meant.

“Mom!” My voice quivered and I grasped at the ladder with my suddenly-sweaty palms. What was she doing here? “Why are you here?”

“I did not plan to, but something happened. It’s your friend, the Elf. She’s at the forge, and she’s hurt.”

I jumped down the ladder in one swift movement.

+++

Moments later, I entered the garden, still huffing from the mad dash through the streets of Bùrian. Kishirra lay on a blanket in the middle of the garden, looking up at the empty sky. Her armour lay at her side, the plaques broken.

Her eyes were closed.

“Ki-shirra!” I shouted, my voice broken from exhaustion, squeezed thin by the cold grip on my heart. “What happened? Why are you here?” I crouched next to her on the blanket, checking on her blankets. Why was she here? How did…

“She was brought to our door by a farmer. She’s alive,” my father said, coming up from behind a tree. He was holding a large steaming cup. “Here. I tried to make something good for her wounds, but I’m neither you nor your mother. Please tell me everything is alright.”

I gave it a sniff. A bit low on the dragroot contents, but it seemed to be passable.

“You did not put Nightshale into it, did you?”

“No.”

“It’s good then.” He gave it to me and tilted his head.

“She came in looking for you. We did not know what to do besides going to look for you.” A sheepish smile appeared on his face. “At first I even tried to look for you in your room.”

“Ah. Yes, that would have been…” I did not even need to finish that line. Dad patted my shoulder and walked past Kishirra.

“Where is her weapon?” I asked.

“The poleaxe?”

“Yes. Where is it?”

“She left it at the entrance.”

Not good.

“Can I leave you with her?”

“Y-Yes. Thanks. Ask Mom if she can get something for her wounds ready, a bit more dragroot would be perfect! She’ll know what to do!”

“Alright.” He gave me one last smile and disappeared towards the entrance.

I crouched next to Kishirra and tilted her head so that she could drink a bit of the potion. It would revitalise her senses. I called the sensation of being outside and dealing with the decorations weird, but this was… weirder. Her skin was so warm and smooth, even with all the cuts and bruises criss-crossing it.

Kishirra frowned and she opened her left eye. Her right one was swollen and it just twitched.

“You are alive,” I croaked. “Oh, thank god!”

That seemed to make her deflate. She looked down, all life left her opened eye.

“Hey. Madama Kishirra. Stay with me. Drink this, it will help you feel better.”

She hesitated – then pursed her lips and I poured a few drops of the drink into her waiting lips. She drank bit by bit. The battered Elf let out a long sigh and fell on the blanket, panting heavily like I did when I burst through the doors.

“I apo… logize,” she stuttered. “I did not want to intrude. I might have left my weapon in your father’s care, but I am afraid I do not have money for repairs to my armour anymore. You would do well getting rid of me soon.”

“Do you think I care about that? You rest now, and let’s hope that your OP Elven metabolism does its job.”

“Meta… what?” She asked, her eyes already clouded. The medicine was taking effect. I leaned forward.

“Nevermind. There’s… there’s a thing or two about me I haven’t told you yet.”

Was I actually. going to tell her? I shuddered with fear just as she shuddered with fever. Kishirra groaned and fell into slumber. It seemed herbal remedies might work even better on her than expected.

I regarded her silent form, sleeping on the makeshift mattress in the middle of the garden.

“Wow.” I couldn’t hold my wonder in. Even bruised like she was, or perhaps even more so for it, Kishirra looked as gorgeous as ever. The fine traits of her face reminded me of the fairy-like figures I read about in my old world.

How would she react if she knew the truth about me? How would it play out with her faith?

“I will find out later.” Blushing like the crimson cranes in the garden, I picked up a clean rag and began to dab at her forehead again.