She rested her hands on her hips, gazing around the ramshackle tents of the group she’d brought down. “I’d rather continue gathering evacuees in Argora Vale, but Dante wants me settled somewhere safe. Overprotective beast,” she teased.
“Ask her why,”Braxius nudged his snout into my neck.
“Why?”
The same moment she brought her gaze back to mine, her hands sat atop her belly.
My jaw dropped. “You’re pregnant?!” I kept my voice low.
She nodded, her smile as bright as the sun. “Mhm. I never thought I could have a life in general thanks to that blessing, let alone a family.” She shook her head in disbelief, her curls jostling gently as her eyes glossed over.
Braxius flew from my shoulder to hers, spinning in circles and nuzzling against her cheek while getting tangled in her mess of red hair.
“Oh, that’s why you’ve been excited to be around her. I thought you were getting yourself a new best friend,”I said to Braxius.
“She just smells like love and life, more than you. I like it.”He licked her cheek, his tail wagging, wings fluttering.
“Not many people know, but I know Dante won’t mind me having told you. He owes you a life debt, by the way.”
“Me? Why?” I hadn’t said or done anything in that meeting to warrant such a thing. Maybe she meant Nora, for finding a place for their people to go.
“Because you saved us from the ogres. Now, of course, he won’t let me out of his sight. Without you to save the day, things could have ended badly.Iowe you as well.”
“Technically, you owe Evenita. She’s the one who told me there was trouble.” I shrugged, trying to brush off the praise.
“Yes, we owe Evenita an endless amount already. But it wasn’t her arrows who stopped them in their tracks.”
I scratched at the back of my neck. “Don’t mention it.”
Mira bounced on the balls of her feet. “Too late, already did. Life debt owed. Goodbye, Ro!” She trotted off, not letting me resist further. Braxius remained in the air, watching the red-haired beauty leave before returning to me, albeit reluctantly.
Tio’s swagger was more grand than usual at the campfire as he engaged the children in an evening time story. He wore a woven blanket over his head and shoulders, hunching like some old crone. Being from Windguard, this was often the topic.
“At the dawn of Myelle, when the world was new, the Gods looked down upon their creation, and found it lacking. Neri, the God of Water, said, ‘Eww, there’s too much diiirt, and it’s so brooown. I know! I’ll paint it blue.’” His ridiculous impersonation of the famed God lacked all manner of reverence, but even I joined in on the laughter shaking the children at Tio’s antics.
“Then he poured water over half the world!” From somewhere behind his blanket shroud, he poured a small bowl of water over the fire. It hissed and sizzled, and the children’s mouths dropped in awe.
“The Twin Goddesses of Flora and Fauna, Hypiphany and Taia, said, ‘we agree with Neri! There’s too much brown.’” He scrunched up his nose and lips, resting a dramatic hand on his hip. Then he twirled around and used his magic to summon a prepared, uprooted flower from the ground.
“The showmanship,” I mutter, lips twisted in amusement.
He shot me a scrutinizing glare, but fought his own smile. The flower went next into the flames, and a few children ripped out some grass and tossed that in, following their theatrical leader.
“Brax!” Tio widened his stance and pointed to my shoulder. When the little creature didn’t stir, Tio remained frozen in position. “Brax,” he hissed. “That’s your cue.”
I bit my lips, knowing how stubborn Braxius could be. Instead of watching my best friend flounder with such a captivated audience, I reached over my shoulder and plucked the little dragon, holding out my hand while he remained nestled in my palm, curled up like a cat by the fire.
Tio sighed, his pointed finger slumping to the ground, but he quickly reanimated. “Thus, Myelle became decorated in forest, flowers, andobstinatelittle creatures.” He muttered the ornery descriptor. “Zyanna, the Goddess of the Sky, Dae, God of the Sun, and Galenna, Goddess of the Moon and wind continue to watch down over Myelle, making sure we have light, and rain, and a nice cool breeze in the summer.” With an insanely loud open-mouth inhale, Tio puffed his cheeks and waddled around the campfire, blowing in each child’s face. Their laughter roared louder than the crackling fire. Once he finished, he covered his mouth with a hushing finger and waited until the giggles subsided. “And one God lives among us to this very day. At thisvery camp.” With wide eyes, he encouraged their questioning, rapt attention.
“Oh, gods.” I knew what was coming before he said it.
He threw off the woven blanket and tossed his arms wide. “Tio! God of Storytelling!”
The air swelled with cheers and jeers from the half-dozen children gathered. A few adults who hovered by their children couldn’t contain their smiles, even if they rolled their eyes and shook their heads.
“Alright kids, say thank you and goodnight toAuntie Tio,” I announced before the angered gods split the ground from the blasphemy. Plus, the rest of the gods history became dark and disturbed, definitely not suitable for children. Whether I believed in the legends, they were the explained source for the magic Myelle had been blessed with. Legend said each God left remnants of their magic behind. The curse of Argora Vale was said among Windguardians to be the work of Thanna, Goddess of Death, summoned by a king’s mutineering first counselor, Razael. Other theories were about the combination of magics he used, and his corrupted heart.
“Goodnight Auntie Tio!” the children shouted in unison and I snort-chuckled, covering my mouth with my hand.
