It was a beautiful morning when he stepped out of the tavern doorway. Fian closed his eyes and drew a deep breath through his nose. The mists of the moor washed over him—fresh moss, dew on the leaves, and… He looked up and glanced around. *Not again…* he thought, looking about with a hint of annoyance.
*That this female wolf has been lurking nearby and watching me for four days now. She doesn’t even bother trying to stay unseen.* He knew she would come for him eventually; having it constantly rubbed in his face like this was truly unnecessary. It was likely just one of those higher wolf rituals she was bound to observe. He looked around, and sure enough, there she sat on the tavern porch, enjoying a cup of tea while watching the first rays of sunlight break over the moor. Beside her sat a second steaming cup; she seemed to be waiting for someone. Hearing him, she turned and fixed him with an expectant gaze from her ice-blue eyes. “There he is at last—the little bard. I was starting to worry the tea would go cold.”
He stood frozen at the tavern door, looking toward her, completely overwhelmed by the situation. After what felt like an eternity, she looked amused and spoke: “Little bard, the tea won’t get any warmer sitting in a cup in the cool morning sun. And the day won’t wait around just because a little bard is standing aimlessly in a doorway, unsure of what he wants. How about we put us both out of our misery? The bard can simply accept that this tea has nothing to do with him. And if he absolutely insists on offering something in return for the tea—well, I find myself longing for a bit of company this morning. Nothing more, nothing less.”
He sighed softly to himself; this business of a bard’s honor—being invited to share a meal—could sometimes be a burdensome yoke. But then again, one cannot always choose one’s company. “Fian…” he said, “my name is Fian.” She twitched her ears briefly and replied, “Very well, Fian—tea for company this morning?” So be it… he cautiously joined her.
“Now, might I also learn who invited me this morning? To whom do I owe this tea?” She closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath of the cool air, and answered curtly, “Me.” “Mirabella… Mira… Michaela…” “Simply ‘Me’,” she repeated, “and when the time is right, Fian will learn that, too.” Fian masked his uncertainty and replied eloquently, “And if it is the last thing I ever learn in my life… I shall…” She gave him a look of disapproval, so he wisely fell silent.
After a while, she said softly, “Fian, a bard—a master of words— should know that there are things best left unsaid. Spoken words have consequences; they demand action and require one to take responsibility for what has been said. Especially in places like this, one shouldn’t say everything one thinks.”
He looked at her sideways. “So, no bard to keep you company this morning?” She nodded slightly and gently placed her paw on his arm. “Please, no… simply… Fian, just as he is. Now that I know the name—not ‘the little bard’.” He looked at her paw and pondered. Then he said quietly, “Simply Fian… I like that better than having to be ‘the bard.’ It doesn’t feel right while sharing this tea.”
She rested her head on her other paw and, after a moment, slowly turned toward him. “I like the sunrise. As beautiful as the night is—that moment—being there when the star of day rises is always something special. What does one do on a day like this?”
He looked out over the moor and, after a while, answered: “Reflect… on life.” She turned her head toward him curiously and pricked up her ears attentively. “Might I hear a few of those thoughts?” Fian smiled faintly and looked thoughtfully at the wound on his leg: “The huntress asking her prey for his thoughts? Does she really want to know?”
She nodded curiously and watched him closely.
“Well then… I keep thinking about our first meeting. I mean… an incredible wolf stood there; the stars sparkled in her fur, and the moon made her glow, white and majestic. She chose me as her red tribute, and I… I knew it was a verdict I couldn’t escape. I closed my eyes and played my final song. I don’t even know if it was my best song, but it felt right; I let go of everything and was ready to sincerely fulfill my part. And then… she comes right up to me, catches my scent, and leaves? I mean, really—it was an absolutely sublime and incredible moment; I could feel life pulsing in my veins, and she… just leaves? That makes no sense at all.”
He looked at her inquiringly. “…right?”
She removed her paw from his arm and scratched the back of her neck, seemingly embarrassed. “Well, the place had been blessed by the Eternals… it was neither the right place nor the right time,” she began. “Just so I understand: ‘the place’ wasn’t to their liking, and the timing was wrong?” She fixed him with an icy stare. “It hasn’t been called off. Decisions were simply made, and we all have to live with them now.”
A strange silence settled between them. Then Fian spoke up: “Ah, I see. Higher powers. An immutable rite. So, the aloof ruler, acting on behalf of Eternity, basically got a duty roster from the Moon Goddess? And I just dawdled with my lute until her shift ended… And now she’s making sure her prey doesn’t vanish—because the Eternals themselves were watching, and she doesn’t want to look foolish come the next full moon when I show up at the twelfth hour to see her?”
She thought for a moment, then shrugged, casting a meaningful glance toward the moors. She replied guardedly: “So, at the same fire as last time—midnight, under the full moon? It seems a bit outdated and archaic, if you ask me, but the idea isn’t half bad when I really think about it…” He leaned back and took a sip of tea. “Well, that settles the ‘when’ and ‘where’; now all that’s left is the ‘what’—I mean, I’d…” She pressed her claw against his throat so hard he dropped his tea and lost the ability to speak.
She whispered into his ear, her voice icy cold:
“That’s enough, little bard. Those decisions have already been made, and the little bard and Fian will never say another word about it.” Her ice-blue eyes pierced him coldly. He nodded silently. Then she picked up his cup and shared her tea with him.
“Let’s just enjoy the morning instead.” So they sat together in silence, drinking tea.
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