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| style="padding-left:7px; padding-right:5px;" | {{H|Henrietta|0=}}: “Tavin is alive!”<p>That thought was keeping me awake all night. Now I knew it for sure: a guerilla from his squad had finally reached us. Do I need to describe how much I was looking forward to this meeting! In the dawn, it was difficult to make out the features of the traveler. I strained my eyes all I could: a small figure riding a... pony? Yes! It was definitely a halfling!<p>“Tavin! Tavin, is that you?” I shouted and rushed toward the short rider, forgetting all caution.<p>The rider reared up in the saddle and hesitated a moment. Then, apparently recognizing me, he dismounted and ran toward me, hunching on one leg, waving his short, strong arms awkwardly. It was him.<p>I almost ran the tired traveler into the ground, for I was so glad to see him. Only then did I realize what a toll the years had taken on him. Scars, burns, gray stubble... Yet his eye—the only eye, the other was a hideous reddish hole—looked at me boldly and with keen interest, as if it was saying: “Well, girl, let's see what kind of a beast you grew into”.<p>Interrupting each other, we began to trade stories about the journey each of us had taken. I learned how, on the day of our departure, Tavin had single-handedly led the Kreegans’ chasing party on a false trail, making them believe there was a full squad of grenadiers lurking in the woods. How, at first, he invested all strength he had into surviving on his own, tormented by the fact that he couldn't help his people. Later, he found his first companions and began to mount small raids against the Kreegans—they managed to free a slave or two here and there and get them out of Eeofol, or ambush a devil and slit his throat.<p>{{H|Tavin|0=}}: “But it was all a drop in the ocean. Our faith was beginning to fail us. Despair is a poison worse than stinking Kreegan blood,” Tavin muttered, as if reliving the pain of those days.<p>{{H|Henrietta|0=}}: In their darkest hour, when things in Eeofol seemed to be going as badly as they could, the guerrillas learned of Erathia's victory in the Restoration War. Since that time, the Kreegans, who had been dealt a severe blow, had lost their grip. The guerrillas were becoming bolder, and many of the freed slaves began to join them. Naturally, they didn't think they'd really be able to drive the devils away, not until the elementals showed up in Eeofol...<p>Tavin was impressed by what I had told him of my adventures, and of the forces that had come with me from Jadame - but there was nothing I could show him right now. Wynona was my only companion at the meeting, and the old guerilla kept sneaking glances at the Dark Elf, eyeing up her long sword and lightweight breastplate of bluish steel, and coughing into his fist.<p>“One thing bothers me, Tavin. Maybe you’ll be bold enough to tell me the truth? I can't figure out why they call me Moonchild. No matter how hard I tried to find out, everyone I asked seemed scared. If they didn't run away, they’d just change the subject. I can't take it anymore... Something’s up here: it feels as though my whole life had gone wrong because of it, ever since I couldn't even remember.”<p>Tavin took a good swig from his travel flask, lit his short spigot pipe, sighed heavily a few times, and began:<p>{{H|Tavin|0=}}: “Well, listen. Here’s what it’s about... I had just joined the Border Guard as a new recruit, and a hard time that was! I heard a lot of things that the villagers kept silent about—terrible things had happened a few years earlier. Giants came down from the mountains into the valley. Why, you think, everyone around thinks us halflings lucky? That’s because no one has ever heard of our troubles—we do not talk about them, even with neighbors. And if someone finds out about something, they keep silent like fishes. Superstitious folk! They believe that if you mention a sorrow, it will hear that and return, ten times more sorrowful. And how can one not go mad with grief, if there’s no way to defend oneself? I couldn't stand it all, so I joined the guards. I was tired of superstition. That’s how it was... Many villages were trampled into the ground by giants. What a disaster! And only in one village, in the bright light of the full moon, we found a living baby. The whole house around was ruined, but the cradle was intact. So the saviors called her a moonchild. What you gonna do! The babe was alive, but once you looked at her, you could feel the rumbling feet of giants again. So we all swore to keep silent about the matter; not a word, so as not to bring on a new misfortune.”<p>{{H|Henrietta|0=}}: I froze. For years, Frederick had been trying to get this foolishness out of me, scolding me, trying to explain things, prove something—but I still believed in omens. A little bit, out of habit, as if I were holding on to something. And now—had the devils fallen on Eeofol just because I was... alive?<p>It was as if the old guerilla had read my mind:<p>{{H|Tavin|0=}}: “No, child. He who intends to do evil takes a while to prepare, then goes and does it. What are omens to him? It’s the other way ‘round, Henrietta. If it were not for you, your bravery, your friendship with that lanky wizard... we would not exist now. You are our good fortune. Back then, when I wasn’t sure if there was any hope left in the world, and I was wandering through these burnt forests like a dead man who just forgot to go lie in the ground, I learned that halflings had been seen somewhere beyond the distant seas. I rejoiced like a boy! I knew our root was not lost, and it would sprout again. You saved us once, and now you've come back to save us again! If you like bad omens so much, then, I guess, all the Kreegans’ mirrors shattered, scared of their ugly kissers. Now tell me, who overcame fear? Who called you Moonchild?<p>{{H|Henrietta|0=}}: “Uncle Kett did. He died in my arms."<p>Tavin grew sulky and sighed.<p>{{H|Tavin|0=}}: “Ole Kett, then. A good soldier he was, wish I'd saved him. I thought he'd flown with you back then, but two years later he showed up at my squad. We fought together until... Ah, may he rest in peace. I'm happy to know that before he died, he saw your face and not those red mugs. Not everyone gets so lucky in Eeofol these days.”<p>{{H|Henrietta|0=}}: “What about Auna? Have you heard of her?”<p>{{H|Tavin|0=}}: “No. I've never known anyone by that name.”<p>{{H|Henrietta|0=}}: Tears rolled from my eyes. To find out you lost everything before you even realized you had it. And now all that's left is a name. Why is knowing it more painful than not knowing anything?<p>''She's a Moonchild''<br>''Gathering the flowers in a garden.''<br>''Lovely Moonchild''<br>''Drifting on the echoes of the hours.''<br>''Sailing on the wind in a milk white gown,''<br>''Dropping circle stones on a sun dial,''<br>''Playing hide and seek with the ghosts of dawn,''<br>''Waiting for a smile from a sunchild.''</br><p>I heard the voice, and it felt like I was following it out of the dark night woods—a little, lost girl. I opened my eyes and felt Wynona's warm arms around me as she squatted down, and I felt Tavin's stiff palm on my shoulder.</p>
| style="padding-left:7px; padding-right:5px;" | {{H|Henrietta|0=}}: “Tavin is alive!”<p>That thought was keeping me awake all night. Now I knew it for sure: a guerilla from his squad had finally reached us. Do I need to describe how much I was looking forward to this meeting! In the dawn, it was difficult to make out the features of the traveler. I strained my eyes all I could: a small figure riding a... pony? Yes! It was definitely a halfling!<p>“Tavin! Tavin, is that you?” I shouted and rushed toward the short rider, forgetting all caution.<p>The rider reared up in the saddle and hesitated a moment. Then, apparently recognizing me, he dismounted and ran toward me, hunching on one leg, waving his short, strong arms awkwardly. It was him.<p>I almost ran the tired traveler into the ground, for I was so glad to see him. Only then did I realize what a toll the years had taken on him. Scars, burns, gray stubble... Yet his eye—the only eye, the other was a hideous reddish hole—looked at me boldly and with keen interest, as if it was saying: “Well, girl, let's see what kind of a beast you grew into”.<p>Interrupting each other, we began to trade stories about the journey each of us had taken. I learned how, on the day of our departure, Tavin had single-handedly led the Kreegans’ chasing party on a false trail, making them believe there was a full squad of grenadiers lurking in the woods. How, at first, he invested all strength he had into surviving on his own, tormented by the fact that he couldn't help his people. Later, he found his first companions and began to mount small raids against the Kreegans—they managed to free a slave or two here and there and get them out of Eeofol, or ambush a devil and slit his throat.<p>{{H|Tavin|0=}}: “But it was all a drop in the ocean. Our faith was beginning to fail us. Despair is a poison worse than stinking Kreegan blood,” Tavin muttered, as if reliving the pain of those days.<p>{{H|Henrietta|0=}}: In their darkest hour, when things in Eeofol seemed to be going as badly as they could, the guerrillas learned of Erathia's victory in the Restoration War. Since that time, the Kreegans, who had been dealt a severe blow, had lost their grip. The guerrillas were becoming bolder, and many of the freed slaves began to join them. Naturally, they didn't think they'd really be able to drive the devils away, not until the elementals showed up in Eeofol...<p>Tavin was impressed by what I had told him of my adventures, and of the forces that had come with me from Jadame - but there was nothing I could show him right now. Wynona was my only companion at the meeting, and the old guerilla kept sneaking glances at the Dark Elf, eyeing up her long sword and lightweight breastplate of bluish steel, and coughing into his fist.<p>“One thing bothers me, Tavin. Maybe you’ll be bold enough to tell me the truth? I can't figure out why they call me Moonchild. No matter how hard I tried to find out, everyone I asked seemed scared. If they didn't run away, they’d just change the subject. I can't take it anymore... Something’s up here: it feels as though my whole life had gone wrong because of it, ever since I couldn't even remember.”<p>Tavin took a good swig from his travel flask, lit his short spigot pipe, sighed heavily a few times, and began:<p>{{H|Tavin|0=}}: “Well, listen. Here’s what it’s about... I had just joined the Border Guard as a new recruit, and a hard time that was! I heard a lot of things that the villagers kept silent about—terrible things had happened a few years earlier. Giants came down from the mountains into the valley. Why, you think, everyone around thinks us halflings lucky? That’s because no one has ever heard of our troubles—we do not talk about them, even with neighbors. And if someone finds out about something, they keep silent like fishes. Superstitious folk! They believe that if you mention a sorrow, it will hear that and return, ten times more sorrowful. And how can one not go mad with grief, if there’s no way to defend oneself? I couldn't stand it all, so I joined the guards. I was tired of superstition. That’s how it was... Many villages were trampled into the ground by giants. What a disaster! And only in one village, in the bright light of the full moon, we found a living baby. The whole house around was ruined, but the cradle was intact. So the saviors called her a moonchild. What you gonna do! The babe was alive, but once you looked at her, you could feel the rumbling feet of giants again. So we all swore to keep silent about the matter; not a word, so as not to bring on a new misfortune.”<p>{{H|Henrietta|0=}}: I froze. For years, Frederick had been trying to get this foolishness out of me, scolding me, trying to explain things, prove something—but I still believed in omens. A little bit, out of habit, as if I were holding on to something. And now—had the devils fallen on Eeofol just because I was... alive?<p>It was as if the old guerilla had read my mind:<p>{{H|Tavin|0=}}: “No, child. He who intends to do evil takes a while to prepare, then goes and does it. What are omens to him? It’s the other way ‘round, Henrietta. If it were not for you, your bravery, your friendship with that lanky wizard... we would not exist now. You are our good fortune. Back then, when I wasn’t sure if there was any hope left in the world, and I was wandering through these burnt forests like a dead man who just forgot to go lie in the ground, I learned that halflings had been seen somewhere beyond the distant seas. I rejoiced like a boy! I knew our root was not lost, and it would sprout again. You saved us once, and now you've come back to save us again! If you like bad omens so much, then, I guess, all the Kreegans’ mirrors shattered, scared of their ugly kissers. Now tell me, who overcame fear? Who called you Moonchild?<p>{{H|Henrietta|0=}}: “Uncle Kett did. He died in my arms."<p>Tavin grew sulky and sighed.<p>{{H|Tavin|0=}}: “Ole Kett, then. A good soldier he was, wish I'd saved him. I thought he'd flown with you back then, but two years later he showed up at my squad. We fought together until... Ah, may he rest in peace. I'm happy to know that before he died, he saw your face and not those red mugs. Not everyone gets so lucky in Eeofol these days.”<p>{{H|Henrietta|0=}}: “What about Auna? Have you heard of her?”<p>{{H|Tavin|0=}}: “No. I've never known anyone by that name.”<p>{{H|Henrietta|0=}}: Tears rolled from my eyes. To find out you lost everything before you even realized you had it. And now all that's left is a name. Why is knowing it more painful than not knowing anything?<p>''She's a Moonchild''<br>''Gathering the flowers in a garden.''<br>''Lovely Moonchild''<br>''Drifting on the echoes of the hours.''<br>''Sailing on the wind in a milk white gown,''<br>''Dropping circle stones on a sun dial,''<br>''Playing hide and seek with the ghosts of dawn,''<br>''Waiting for a smile from a sunchild.''</br><p>I heard the voice, and it felt like I was following it out of the dark night woods—a little, lost girl. I opened my eyes and felt Wynona's warm arms around me as she squatted down, and I felt Tavin's stiff palm on my shoulder.</p>
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| style="text-align:center;" | 4, 6, 0<br>37, 101, 0<br>42, 7, 0</br>
| style="text-align:center;" | 4, 6, 0<br>37, 101, 0<br>42, 7, 0</br>
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