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Arilee led the group out of the Elder’s pavilion. She saw Idril sitting patiently, waiting for the group to return. He smiled upon seeing them and nodded in greeting.
“How was the meeting?” he asked.
“It was,” Arilee paused searching for the word.
Leela finished for her. “Sad.”
Chip agreed, “Everything seems so happy around the Caravan, I didn’t understand how bad things are for the Elves. He said they are dying.”
“He wasss weak,” hissed Slicks.
Idril nodded, “He didn’t used to be so weak, Slicks. The last two centuries have taken a heavy toll. What did he say?”
“Elder Elwathir said we could stay. His Caravan will escort us to the Caravan of Elders to the East. But he has a message for you to send to the other caravans.”
Idril’s face brightened. “So he agreed to help? That is good. Well done, Arilee. I will come back later to find out more about what the Elder needs of me. For now, let’s talk to the Camp Manager and find out where we can sleep for the night.”
The group followed Idril through the camp. As they walked, Arilee noticed Leela was lost in thought.
“What’s on your mind, Leela?” asked Arilee.
“This has all just been so much. Growing up in a caravan, everything seemed so happy. We mostly sang happy songs of the Old World, there are a few stories of heroes from the Great Flood, but it never seemed real to me.” Leela looked around the camp. The bright colors, dancing and singing, people smiling. “Even still everyone seems so happy around us. But underneath it all, like the Elder, lurks a great sadness. And I feel it too.”
“You’re right Leela. It’s the same way in every caravan. That inner-sadness is why they prefer to sing happy songs. There is no future to look forward to. We are the Lost, searching for a home that is no more.” Idril also looked around the Caravan. “You see the singing and the dancing Leela, but what don’t you see? You most likely did not notice it because you were too young, but maybe now you will.”
“What is it?” asked Leela.
Chip noticed it. “There are no children.”
“No elf has been born since the last Great Tree died and the Elves left the Light Wood. With nowhere to go, survivors formed these caravans.”
“They never tried to settle down?” asked Chip.
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“They did. I remember that,” said Leela.
“What happened?”
“The Overlord,” she sighed.
“Caravans and being always on the move was our last and only chance, with the elves so weak,” said Idril.
“But you don’t seem weak, Idril,” said Chip.
“To you, I may seem strong, but to the Elves of the Old World…” his voice trailed off. “The things they could do, you would not believe.”
“But even still, you easily took care of Jacques and his men. Could any of the elves here do that?”
“Worry not, there is a trained Caravan Guard. The caravan is not totally defenseless. We’ve long been prey to bandits and others thinking we were an easy mark. But why am I strong?” Idril thought for a moment. “Most of the elves and bards learn the happy songs of the Old World. But my master wanted me to learn the songs and stories from the Dark War. He wanted to make sure his friends were remembered. Through those stories, I was inspired to learn and train.”
The Camp Manager pavilion finally came into view as they turned around the next row of wagons. “Ah there we are,” said Idril. “Let’s go see if they have some space for us to set up our tents.”
Idril walked over and began talking to an elf woman seated behind a desk. After talking with Idril for a minute, she pointed down to a map in front of her, and began drawing lines on it with different colored inks. Idril nodded and walked back to the group.
"Elwathir was kind enough to let us use some of the extra nice tents they have. She said he will be in the Violet Firefly section. If we find ourselves in the Orange, we've gone too far."
The group followed the bard to a field of tents set up behind the wagons. Countless fireflies illuminated the campsite, each with their own unique color grouping together. The Blue fireflies we’re all grouped in one location, the greens in another, the yellows across the way.
As the group walked, they passed small campfires surrounded by groups of people closing out the night with light conversations.. Arilee thought the whole place looked so mystical.
A small comfortable campsite under a tree greeted them.
"We're lucky, there is one tent for each of us. I'll get started on a small fire while you all set up."
Chip stopped Idril as he gathered sticks. "Don't worry Idril, I can get the fire going. Please rest. You've helped us so much.”
“Thank you Chip, but you let me start the fire. You can make some food for us to eat.”
Leela smiled at seeing their campsite. “These tents look so big,” she said. “What is this white puffy material they are made from? I’ve never seen this.”
“He did say these were the nice tents,” said Chip.
“Touch the material Arilee! What even is this?” exclaimed Leela.
Arilee, exhausted, trudged to one of the tents and touched the flap. It felt so soft. It compressed and smushed around her hand and then reformed. Arilee crawled into the tent and everything felt just as comfortable. She barely heard the conversation after that, as she climbed into her tent. Too tired to care, she unequipped her gear and climbed under her blankets. The softest blankets she’s ever felt. The pillow perfectly conformed under her head. The soft melodic notes of lute began to play just outside her tent. After listening softly for a moment, she forced herself to peak out between the tent flaps. Leela and Chip sat with Idril, closing out the night around the fire. Idril looked to be softly singing while strumming the strings. Leela peaked Arilee looked at them.
Arilee smiled, feeling safe for once. She was happy to have found such a good group.
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