Light from the newly-risen sun fell into the room through a single window, draping its contents in a soft, warm blanket. The scent of blooming flowers and the promise of a beautiful spring day drifted in on the mild morning breeze. Inside, a sheathed longsword sat against a wall made of beautiful pine. Hanging on that wall was a tall mirror, and staring into that mirror, lost in her thoughts, was a young woman.
She appeared largely human, though her sharply pointed ears and delicate facial features disclosed a mixed heritage. The pale skin of her face, dotted with light freckles, gave contrast to the deep pools of green in her eyes. Her hair matched the rising sun in both its color and intensity, loose curls winding about her face and falling to rest by her neck.
A soft knock at the door pulled her roughly from her reverie. “Come in,” she called distractedly, still gazing into the mirror.
The door swung open and a broad, muscled, giant of a man with a long black beard ducked into the room. Camille smiled broadly and ran toward the visitor.
“Brin! Good morning!” She wrapped her arms around the man in a warm embrace, though with his huge stature it felt less like a hug and more like trying to wrap one’s arms around a large oak tree. Standing at five-and-a-half feet, she only came up to the man’s collarbone.
“Good morning, Kimi!” the man boomed, returning her embrace with a laugh. “I see you’re up already! And mostly packed, too?” he said looking around the room.
“Yes,” she said sheepishly, “I couldn’t really sleep very well, so I was up early…”
“To be expected, I suppose,” Brin chuckled. “You ready for your journey?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be!” Camille said, though she did not look as though she believed the words she spoke.
Brin smiled softly and took Camille’s hand, sitting in a nearby chair as he did. “Kimi, you are ready for this. Your twenty-first birthday was just months ago, and I’ve already trained you as well as I know how. You’re a faster study than anyone I’ve taught.”
“It’s not my skill with sword or shield I’m worried about,” she said with a sad smile.
“I know,” Brin sighed. “But I’ve told you before, and I mean it: you’ve grown into a beautiful young woman. You have nothing to fear.”
“If only my father thought as you do,” Camille said bitterly.
“Let the Aspects worry about your father,” he said with a firm look. “His refusal to accept you as you are says everything about him, and nothing about you.”
“But what if there are others like him?” she demanded, gesturing vaguely into the distance. “What if people out there refuse to accept me just as he has?”
“Camille,” Brin said, “you are you, and you are you no matter what anyone says. You carry great strength, and I’m not talking about your muscles,” he smiled. “Besides, you know I travel afar to train some of the ‘nation’s best,’” he said, not trying very hard to hide his disdain. Camille giggled. “People outside the village are much more open minded about this sort of thing. You’ll see.”
Camille looked at him and smiled broadly. Somehow he always knows what to say. “Thank you, Brin. When you say it, I can almost believe it.”
Brin pulled Camille close for a long hug, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I know things have been hard since your mother passed,” he said. “She was a beautiful elf, and one of the kindest people I’ve ever known — and there’s more of her in you than a surname and some pointy ears,” he grinned. “I believe in you, Kimi. You should too.”
“Thank you, Brin,” Camille smiled. “Ever since I lost her, you’ve been the only person who believed in me.”
“That’s not true,” Brin scolded. “The villagers may stay quiet out of fear of your father due to his political power, but they adore you. None would turn you away if you needed them.”
“Perhaps,” Camille said, admiring the view out the nearby window. “But you are the one who took me in when my father kicked me out, and you are the one who taught me to defend myself, and to defend others.”
“And it has been a true pleasure, except for my inability to keep you from favoring your left side,” Brin replied teasingly.
Camille laughed. “I promise I’ll train every day.”
“You better,” Brin said, smiling in return and rising from his chair. He reached for her longsword. “Now let me help you with your things. The caravan will be leaving soon.”
Camille stood for a moment, quiet, a grateful smile on her face. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “For everything, Brin. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
Brin turned back toward her. “You’re welcome, Kimi. You’ve been like a daughter to me.” He hugged her once more. “But you’re strong. Believe in yourself.” He looked her in the eye expectantly, and she nodded.
“Yes, sir.”
He chuckled and smiled sadly. “I will miss you, Kimi. Be sure to write if you can.”
“I’ll miss you too, Brin,” she said quietly, a single tear running down her cheek.
Half an hour later, Camille pondered her actions as she bounced down the road in one of the caravan’s wagons. Brin had saved her life, taken her in, recognized talent in her, and given her the gift of years of training — training which honed that talent to a sharp edge. She couldn’t let that gift go to waste.
She’d travel the world, training and growing as she went. And one day, eventually, she’d find a way to repay Brin’s kindness.
She fished a crumpled paper from her pack and looked over the letter from the Tholian Explorers Guild for the hundredth time. In a few weeks she’d take her first real step. She hoped she could find what she was looking for in Tella Lond.