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It’s then that I remember Lorganus’s advice. I look down at the crowd and how prized all of the cubs are within our tribe.
I feel warmth in my chest.
“I would not normally ask for your help. But I believe it concerns all of us because she’s bearing my cub.”
The tone immediately shifts.
A silence overtakes the crowd.
“And she has been taken by dark elves, who would use her body and…”
“I’m sorry, Zephiro,” Gradius says. “I had no idea.”
He defers to the elder, ensuring he didn’t speak out of turn. Zkovia simply nods.
“It’s okay,” I say. “Until recently, I didn’t, either.”
“Is there anything else, Zephiro?” Zkovia asks.
I nod. “They know how to hurt us,” I say. “They attacked me with enchanted weapons. I knew their spells could do damage, but I didn’t think they’d be prepared for me.”
“Very well,” Zkovia says. “Well, I have made my judgment, but I’d like for our tribe to deliberate on this.”
“What are you expecting us to do about it?” Gradius asks suddenly.
“Gradius, I –” Zkovia tries to silence him, but fruitlessly.
“No. You’ve already said that they know how to kill us. Why would we then descend on them, knowing our lives are in the balance?”
“Because she is carrying his cub,” Lorganus says. “He already said that.”
“His cub, who would doubtlessly be raised away from the tribe, anyway,” Gradius says. “I have a family here.” He gestures to his wife, Elorus, who is holding back three cubs.
“Many of us do,” Gradius adds. “So what makes your cub so special?”
I look at Lorganus for guidance, but he’s shrugging his shoulders.
There’s a commotion in the crowd as people debate amongst themselves, with loved ones and cubs, what to do.
I try to speak over the noise. “I will gladly go back in by myself,” I declare. “Because that is my child and Sierra is my mate, and in this life, you fight to preserve your bonds.”
The crowd quiets.
“I know I left many of you. Maybe you feel like I abandoned you. And if that’s the case, I’m sorry… but if I’ve ever meant anything to you – anything at all – it would mean everything to me if you’d stand and fight.”
Lorganus rejoins my side. “I knew you had it in you,” he says, nudging into my visible rib cage.
“Far be it for me to invoke the rules of the elder,” Zkovia says, coming from out of the crowd to approach me and address the crowd. “I will not tell any of you what to do in this matter, but I think it’s best for the tribe if we join Zephiro.”
I notice suddenly that the crowd has turned their attention back toward the village entrance, focused on a sudden burst of light.
A nimble, agile Zvori, Varek approaches us, moving immediately toward Zkovia. He whispers in Zkovia’s ear, nodding to confirm everything he’s hearing. The whispers are so quiet, all I’m able to pick out is ‘elves.’
Varek walks away before he can contribute to our discussion.
Zkovia’s face is stern and white. “We’ve just received news from our scout,” Zkovia says. “Some dark elves have entered the area with a human female. Of particular interest, the female was carrying our scent.”
The severity of the situation is present on every face in the crowd, and I realize, with some guilty elation, that I might not be fighting alone after all.
