Chapter 11
Unsettling the Frontier

Lillian pulled her cloak a little tighter and held her lantern high. This was… not what she’d expected. She didn’t know what she had expected. Not this. Not walking at the front of an ever-expanding caravan of terrified masses. She wasn’t a leader. She was a follower, of the Light if nothing else. In the harsh red light of the Bleeding Moon, the white glow of her lantern was soothing, and not just to herself. People had flocked to her, like she knew what she was doing, what she was supposed to do, and to disabuse them of that notion seemed cruel. At least, they weren’t quiet. 

Behind her, the crowd of people, holding lanterns and torches, shuffled through the snow with all the confidence and certainty of people clinging to hope in the face of hopelessness, and constant chatter filled the air. Children cried, quickly silenced by parents and guardians who told them to have faith in the woman leading them. That would be a lot easier if she had even an ounce of the conviction they seemed to think she did. 

“Not how I expected us meeting each other again to go,” Melamira said next to her. Lillian hadn’t even noticed her walk up. The half-Elf woman was light-footed as ever. They shared a glance. “For what it’s worth… it’s good to see you again.” Lillian nodded. 

“You too, Mira,” Lillian said quietly. “I wish the circumstances were better.” She looked behind her, making sure not to slow down. She had done so before once or twice, and it had led to a group-wide slowdown, all of them expecting her to give some kind of speech. Lillian wasn’t very good at speeches. Wasn’t particularly fond of attention in any case. Too many eyes on her. Too much attention. She was just a paladin, and maybe not even that anymore. A wanderer, at best. “How are people holding up?”

“Scared, Lils,” Melamira said. “Their world is ending, and they aren’t even sure where you’re going.” She paused for a moment. “You do know where you’re going, do you?” 

Lillian sighed, her breath a little puff of smoke. “Yes. I’m heading west, passing as many villages as I can.” Not even counting the settlements that had popped up at the river after the dissolution of the border, there were plenty of people, scared in their homes, who Lillian couldn’t not go to help. 

“And figuratively?” The other woman looked at her sideways. She’d always been able to pick up on what Lillian left out. Heard the things she didn’t say. It was why they’d done so well for so long, once upon a time. Not that Lillian appreciated it at the moment. 

“Still figuring that out,” Lillian said. “But right now, walking this path—” she waved ahead with her lantern, “is more important. There’s a lot of people who need help out there, Mel. And they’re scared and alone, and they have latched onto me to guide them somewhere. I’m bringing them north of the river. Things are safer up there.”

“If you’re sure about that,” Melamira said. “You think they can help?” Lillian nodded. 

“They at least know something’s up.” She looked at the moon. “Well, they knew before, I mean. If anyone can help, it’s them.” Lillian looked behind her. “Not me. I’m no leader.”

“Liz wasn’t much of one either,” Melamira pointed out. “She turned out alright.”

“You’re free to go ahead and tell her we’re incoming,” Lillian said, a little more harshly than she maybe intended. 

“Alright,” Melamira said. “If you wanted to get rid of me, you could have just said so.”

“That’s not… I’m sorry.” Lillian sighed. “I appreciate you being here. I really do.” She looked at her lantern. “I was already unsure of things before. Now…” 

“I know.” Mellie tapped her on the arm. “You’re fine. I’ve just… I missed you. We missed you.” She looked behind her. Tilly wasn’t too far behind, talking the ear off Bea. The woman had been easy to convince to come with them. 

“That’s… I know. I miss you too. I miss the old days. But I’m not who I used to be. Can’t be.” At a fork in the road, she took a moment to orient herself. In the harsh red light of the moon, it was harder than she liked to admit to know exactly where she was. “I hate to do this, Melamira,” she said, “but I do think I’ll ask you to go on ahead.” 

“Ouch,” Mels said, but a little smirk on her face reassured Lillian. “You know I can’t resist that pleading look. I never… I never could.” A little bit of old hurt snuck into her voice at the end. Lillian pretended she didn’t hear it. Now definitely wasn’t the time to drag it up.

“What about the boy?” Lillian asked. “He seems off.”

“He’s like Liz,” Melamira said. Lillian cocked her head. 

“That doesn’t exactly narrow it down, you know.” They both chuckled for a moment. “She’s more than a little eccentric.”

“Yeah, she is that.” Mellie nodded, and looked behind her. “But yeah, I think he’s… not from here. Like she is. He speaks the way she does.”

“She’s been doing less of that in recent years,” Lillian said, and realized that made her slightly melancholic. Liz was a creature out of space and time, and that had always been a part of her charm. Sure, she fit in better with the world she lived in now, and clearly she was quite happy to, but it was still a little sad to have some of that be lost. 

“I noticed that last time we visited. But she’ll always be, well, her. And I hope she can help the boy, at least. Whatever is wrong with him, I’m sure she can help out.” Lillian just nodded. “I’ll go on ahead. I travel faster that way.” Melamira put her hand on Lillian’s shoulder, like she was about to say more, turned, then stopped. “I’ll see you there soon,” she said, and wrapped Lillian in a hug. Lillian returned the hug with one arm, and looked at her friend as she left to say a quick goodbye to her other companions, and then set off on her own, carrying only her small pack. Even in the moonlight, the Elf woman’s eyes were a lot sharper than her own would ever be. She didn’t need a torch. That also meant she was out of sight quickly. 

Lillian took a moment, and made a decision. Melamira had gone right at the fork in the road, taking the short way to the Long Bridge. Lillian would be going left, with the refugees behind her. She was setting off when she heard someone yell out to her. “Behind you!” Rather than ask questions, her instincts kicked in, and she rolled right. Immediately, a boar that came up to her midriff charged where she had been a second ago. It would have gored her with ease without the warning. Her hand flew to the weapon at her side, but the creature simply barreled on into the darkness. She wondered if it’d be coming back, but the sound of little hooves from around her quickly told her that wouldn’t be the case. The boar’s farrow, barely old enough to stand, ran after their mother. Whatever had spooked the large pig, it was less scary than the large group, which meant…

“Stampede!” The yell came from the group. Lillian looked at where Melamira had left off to, then shook her head. Hoping for her to come back, waiting, could cost people’s lives. And with the night now full of terrified animals and terrifying creatures, she couldn’t afford to hesitate. She turned and sprinted to the origin of the cry. Luckily, most people who lived here, out in the wilderness, knew how to defend themselves, if not particularly efficiently. Torches were held high and outward, creating a ring of warm light. And right now, that light was filled with all manner of creatures. Mostly scared beasts, escaping whatever primordial rage lurked out in the darkness. They were all, Lillian noted, headed north. She quickly found Tilly, who had put herself between the darkness and the boy, Alexander. 

“Tilly!” she yelled as she ran up to them. She noticed hopeful faces turn to her as her lantern illuminated them. Heavens, they looked at her like she was one of the Divines, come to save them. “Speak to me!”

“Animal stampede,” Tilly said matter-of-factly as she slashed at a shadow that darted out of the darkness. “And I don’t have my bloody sword with me!” A bobcat jumped out at her. Lillian wasn’t particularly worried — she’d seen the little kobold wrestle with larger, angrier and meaner — but she also knew she wasn’t fast enough to stop it, and it bothered her. Before the predator could finish its pounce, however, it was yanked out of the air by the scruff of its neck. 

“Careful, little one,” Bea said with a jovial grin, before she threw the cat with practiced precision into the darkness. Other than some light bruising, to its pride if nothing else, it would be fine. Lillian shot Bea a grateful nod. “It’s nothing major, paladin. They’re spooked, nae more.”

“A spooked animal can still take your arm off if you aren’t careful,” Lillian added, her eyes scanning the edge of the circle of light. “And… thank you.” She turned to Tilly. “Can’t you get a new sword?”

“Nothing big enough,” Tilly grumped, looking at the assembled villagers. “They keep trying to give me daggers.”

“To be fair,” Lillian began, but another yelp came from further down the convoy. Banter was going to have to wait. A pack of wolves had come across the procession and had decided to try to go through, rather than around. A single mountain lion, that was something people could scare off, but wolves were a different matter. Especially ones so scared they may as well have been rabid. 

“Why don’t you go… big?” Tilly asked Bea as the large woman picked up one wolf to swat another away. Lillian found herself staring with admiration from time to time, and was quite literally shaken out of it when something hit her in the shoulder with a soft ‘fwomp’. It didn’t hurt, so she ignored it, resuming her defense of the less experienced around her.

“Because,” Bea said as she punted away another one of the hounds, which ran away yelping, “I don’t trust these people not to set me on fire if I do.” Lillian had heard of what the woman could do, and she’d be lying if she didn’t admit a part of her wanted to see what she could do, but she couldn’t help but agree. Even with the integration of non-human races in society these past few years, the sudden appearance of a bear in the middle of the crowd would cause a panic, and more problems than it would solve. “Besides,” she added, “I do believe we’ve got this covered.” Punching one last of the wolves in the face, Bea straightened up and looked around. 

Things grew quiet again as the various creatures and animals that had tried to go through the convoy had been scared off. Everything else was going around now. Or above, where possible. 

“It’s getting worse, isn’t it?” Tilly asked, sheathing the short sword someone had offered her, woefully tiny compared to the greatsword she’d once wielded. People had a tendency to underestimate the efficacy of a small enthusiastic bundle of muscle with a sharp piece of metal until it came after them at knee-height. 

“I fear it is,” Lillian said. “We have to keep going. There’s many people who’ve boarded up, hoping this will all be over soon. I don’t want to risk them.”

“Agreed,” Bea said, and then looked at Lillian’s shoulder. “Does that not bother you?”

Lillian looked aside, right in the fuzzy face of the moth that had latched on to her arm. It was the size of a house-cat. Its giant eyes just stared at her lantern. She blinked. It didn’t. “I think it likes the light,” she said carefully, nudging it. It didn’t seem intent on leaving any time soon, hooks firmly gripping on to her coat. “Can’t say I blame it right now.” The moth cleaned its antenna. 

“It’s an insect larger than your head,” Tilly said, sticking out her tongue. “Blech.” 

“It’ll be fine,” Lillian said. “Besides, better it be drawn to the closed lantern than an open torch. I don’t need a burning moth setting everything on fire.” Bea smiled. 

“I see no point in hurting living creatures seeking solace,” the large woman said. “And if that solace is you at the moment, may as well consider that a blessing, aye?”

“Yeah,” Lillian said and carefully reached over to touch the moth. “A blessing.” Slowly, deliberately and gently, it pushed its head against her hand with a soft bonk.