The tent flap rustled — and then Skylar stepped out.
For a heartbeat, the noise of the camp faded — the laughter, the drums, the flicker of countless fires.
All I saw was her.
She'd changed out of her hunting leathers into something lighter — a woven dress of soft, dark fabric that shimmered faintly in the firelight, decorated with thin bone rings and amber beads that chimed softly with every step.
Her long blond hair, once wild and wind-tangled, was now braided down one side, threaded with tiny red feathers and slivers of polished horn that caught the light like sparks.
Around her wrists and ankles, thin cords of fur and copper jingled in rhythm with the music, and on her shoulders, faint white markings — painted symbols in ash and clay — curved like crescent moons.
The largest fire in the camp burned behind her, its orange light wrapping her silhouette in gold and shadow.
The flames danced in her eyes, turning the calm blue into molten copper for a moment — deep, fierce, alive.
My throat tightened.
I didn't know whether to say something or just stare, but apparently, my silence was enough to make her grin.
„You look like someone who forgot how to blink," she said, half teasing, half amused.
I coughed, rubbing the back of my neck. „I—uh… yeah. Sorry. You look… different."
She raised an eyebrow. „Different good, or different bad?"
„Good," I said quickly — too quickly. „Really good. Like… like the moon forgot to stay in the sky and decided to come down here."
She blinked, then laughed — not the loud laughter from before, but something softer, almost embarrassed. The feathers in her hair trembled as she shook her head and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
„Faith Ambassador, you should be careful saying things like that. Some of the girls around here might start thinking you're a poet."
„I'm just honest," I said with a shrug, trying to sound casual — but my heart was hammering in my chest.
Skylar smiled again, then nodded toward the heart of the camp, where the biggest fire was roaring.
The drums were faster now, and dozens of Scalaris had gathered — their bodies painted with glowing patterns, their voices lifting in a chant that made the ground hum under my feet.
She reached out a hand. "Come on. It's starting. You shouldn't miss your first new moon."
Her radiant smile shone brighter than the fire i saw and with blink she added; „You don't want to miss my part right?"
I hesitated only for a heartbeat before taking her hand. Her skin was warm, calloused from bowstring and blade — and alive in a way that made me suddenly aware of every pulse in my own fingers.
As we stepped outside, the last line of sun vanished beneath the hills.
The world turned silver-blue, and the first stars blinked awake.
She turned, her hair glinting like molten gold as she walked ahead, and for a long moment, I just watched her — the way the firelight played across her shoulders, the sway of her steps, the faint scent of herbs and smoke trailing behind.
All around the fires, people gathered — some painted with ash and ochre, others wearing necklaces made of teeth and beads that glittered in the firelight.
The drums grew faster. Voices rose in a low, unified hum that made the ground seem to tremble.
And there, in the middle of it all, I stood frozen — surrounded by Scalaris who looked nothing like the ones I remembered.
Alive, loud, laughing.
And no one cared how I looked.
Skylar leaned closer, her voice barely above the beat of the drums.
"Welcome to the festival, Faith Ambassador."
She stopped holding my hands and stepped in the middle of the circle, right in front of the fire place.
The people cheered, include hear some around me whisper her name and the drum rythm started anew, the whole tribe hummed a melody I didn't recognize. Then an old Scalari with five tattoos under his eye stepped forward.
„Bison tribe!" he called out, and holding his hands to the sky, „tonight we thank the dungeon! He created this rich land!"
The hum got loud for a short moment and then went quite again.
„We thank our hunters for bringing enough food home and our woman for cooking and bringing us new life, so that the eternal cycle continues!"
~Haaa~
„Thank the dungeon!" he called out again, and pressed his thumps on his soul stone, his hands open to the sky.
Everyone did it too and repeated his words. I did too, captivated by the whole atmosphere.
Then the priest sat at the side, leaving Skylar in the middle alone. The drums beat got louder and more hypnotic, letting the fire dance in the tribes rythm.
Skylar stepped forward. Her breath shimmered in the orange light, and for a long moment, no one moved.
Then she sang.
It wasn't loud at first — more like a hum that slipped between the drumbeats, soft and deep, threading through the crackle of fire and the wind.
Her voice carried something I couldn't place — not words at first, but tones that sank into my skin and made the air feel alive.
The tribe answered her. A low hum, hundreds of voices joining, rising and falling around her like waves around a single rock.
Skylar lifted her chin, eyes half closed. Then her voice rose — clear and sharp — and the air changed.
The fire swelled, not brighter but deeper, its flames turning almost blue at the edges.
Smoke twisted upward, curling into shapes that shimmered for a breath before vanishing — a herd running across the stars, a storm breaking, a single great bison lowering its head.
No one reacted to it, as if it was normal. Only I stared, the scales on my arms standing.
Her voice wove through the night — strong now, full of longing and promise. Even Onyx stood still at the edge of the camp, his ears flicking toward the sound.
When she sang the higher tones, the wind seemed to answer — faint, cold gusts brushing over the fires, making them bow and dance.
I swallowed hard, my throat tight. It wasn't magic I could see or touch like my green fire— it was something softer, hidden beneath the sound, something that made the night feel wider than before.
Then, as the last note faded, the drums stopped too.
Silence.
Skylar lowered her hands slowly. The fire crackled once, and the blue edges vanished, leaving only the warm orange glow.
The priest bowed his head, murmuring words I couldn't understand.
The smell of roasted meat returned, and the spell broke as quickly as it had come.
I realized I'd been standing with my mouth slightly open. My hands were trembling.
Skylar turned toward me, smiling — that same teasing smile, but softer now.
Nodded with a short gesture and turned around, walking toward the corner where the priest sat, with a few other old looking people.
I just wanted to stand up, but then a bowl of food was hold out to me, getting signaled that I need to reach it further.
Ah! I thought, and started sitting down again, on the pelt beside some others I didn't know, but I continued giving the food to the ones besides me till everyone had something.
In magical silence, after this performance and deep in thought we ate. My eyes wandered over the hundred people around me and they stopped without thinking on the singer of this evening.
She sat besides the priest and another Scalari, maybe around our age too. And besides him sat -I think a Scalari too- but with a bison head on his head, surrounded by some woman.