For the People of the Plains, there wasn’t much that distinguished between the genders in society. Both men and women hunted and fished, gathered and crafted tools, and everyone had a vested interest in the care and protection of the children. There were male and female shamans that communed with the spirits and led the tribes. Cooperative survival was paramount; there was no room for specialized roles in an environment that was inherently hostile.

  Those that pursued the path of the spirits- or was born to it, in the case of Simone- often became more androgynous, unconsciously mirroring the genderless nature of the spirits they communed with. The People of the Plains didn’t hold many reservations when it came to sex and sexuality. Rather, it was acknowledged that sex was a pleasurable gift, a gift that could be shared and enjoyed with others, regardless of gender, so long as both parties were willing.

  While Simone often thought of herself as herself, she was poignantly and explicitly aware that she was male, though there were no explicit male or female roles within the tribe. She was who she was, and that was that.

  However, Ash had shown Simone that outside of the tribe, there were gendered roles, that men undertook tasks that were explicitly or implicitly understood to be male roles. Mercedes’ memories had reinforced that realization, and so, when the confusing ‘High Elf’ had made the assumption that Simone was a girl, Simone had summoned up her courage and stood up, showing the attractive blonde woman that she’d been mistaken.

  Mercedes was numb with shock and was mortified with embarrassment. Her mind was completely blank, it seemed as if there was a great white nothing that roared in her ears, drawing out all thought. There was no situation that she’d ever been in, or even heard of through her friends, that was remotely similar to what she’d just experienced.

  Her awareness dimmed; she was vaguely aware of Simone taking the soap from her hand, though she couldn’t feel it, everything seemed to deaden into a blank numbness that suffused her whole body.

  Simone watched Mercedes as she washed in the hot water- what made the water so hot? Mercedes hadn’t explained. The tall warrior woman looked stunned to the point of senselessness; her face was flushed, her ears bright red with embarrassment, though the woman didn’t say or do anything.

  When Simone got up and moved around in the bath, a great exhaustion washed over her; all of her muscles were loose and relaxed and a great lassitude fogged Simone’s brain; she felt as if she could sleep for an eternity.

  But before sleep, there was something else that needed to be done.

  Some indeterminate time later, Mercedes was aware of Simone crouching over her, the sky brilliantly blue overhead.

  The shaman from the plains, strange crosses glowing in her eyes, held a root of some kind in her hands. As she focused on the root, Simone broke it with a wet snap, and brought the ends to Mercedes’ nostrils.

  Awareness returned immediately. There was no smell quite like it- Mercedes had never encountered such a thing in her life. It was sharp and pungent and her nose burned. The odor seemed to permeate her sinuses; it raced into her lungs. She choked, coughing, tears coming to her eyes, nose running, eyes burning.

  She turned away from the root, and realized that she was laying out on the paving stones of the hot spring, lying naked on her bedroll.

  “What- what was that?” She gasped, struggling to take a breath without coughing.

  Simone chuckled. “Liar’s medicine.” She replied, indifferently tossing the root ends over her shoulder.

  “Wh-what?” Mercedes asked, baffled. She struggled to sit up- all of her muscles were deliciously relaxed, and didn’t want to move right- and realized she was naked. She moved to cover herself with her bedroll.

  “Little children like to tell lies.” Simone explained. “So we take that root, break it open, and rub it on their tongues. It discourages them from doing it again.”

  Mercedes shuddered. “I can see why.” She groaned- it felt like she could still smell it, and Simone had only waved it under her nose for a moment.

  “It’s also good for colds, if you can stand it. You take part of the root and chew it up as much as possible, and swallow it. You start sweating a lot, and it helps the body expel the sickness.”

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  Mercedes shook her head. “Certainly not.” She refused.

  Simone chuckled. “Yeah, no one wants to try that remedy.” She agreed lightly. “The People of the Sea say that it’s good for seasoning ocean fish, but I don’t know if this is true or not.” Simone glanced to the side. “Sometimes it’s good for snapping someone out of a stupor; that’s why I used it on you.”

  Mercedes could agree. There was no real memory between Simone standing up in front of her and her sudden return to her senses.

  “C-could you .... go away, somewhere? I’m naked.” Mercedes asked awkwardly, pulling her bedroll around her.

  “I don’t see what the big deal is, I’ve already seen you naked.” Simone replied, a puzzled look on her face. “I’m guessing this is a cultural thing?” Simone shrugged and left, leaving Mercedes to pull on her clothes awkwardly.

  Under Mercedes’ armor she wore a padded leather jacket and leather pants that protected her from the chafing bite of mail and plate; she sprinkled some absorbent powder into the inner lining of the leather to absorb the excess sweat and odors and then wiped it away; as she was doing this a great lethargy dragged at her; her eyelids felt like they’d slam shut at any moment.

  She struggled to persevere in the face of exhaustion, but even as she struggled to stay awake she was crawling into her bedroll. She lay down, and was asleep almost instantly.

  As Simone collected firewood, she reflected on everything that had brought her this far.

  A vision of the Pearl of N’Granek had forced her departure from her tribe, alongside Alteima’s urgings. Why didn’t the spirits send the vision to the more experienced shamans? Simone was just an apprentice, and was just coming into her powers. The fox spirit Vitalen hadn’t offered any opinion or explanation.

  Simone had been invited by Vitalen to stop at a marae tabu, a spot sacred to spirits, where Simone had been sent a number of visions, many of which Simone was still struggling to understand. During that time, someone had left Simone the spear and shawl she carried. At least, she thought it was someone. Simone had been force-fed all sorts of visions from the spirits, and she wasn’t certain if the elderly elf in her dream had been real, or perhaps another manifestation of the spirits.

  The spear was real, as was the shawl. The shawl itself also doubled as a divining blanket for auguries; that was convenient.

  Then there was Mercedes, a strange sort of elf that hailed from human lands, calling herself a ‘High Elf’.

  This troubled Simone. To her, there were ‘People’, and there were ‘humans’, who were also a People, albeit different from her own. The word ‘elf’ hadn’t existed in Simone’s vocabulary until she’d met humans. Humans liked to compartmentalize and put things in descriptive boxes, something that Mercedes seemed to share. To Simone, her tribe was family, to Mercedes there was a mother and a father and aunts and uncles and cousins and nieces and nephews and... it was all very confusing. Why couldn’t things be simple?

  Simone glanced back at the ruins of the hot springs briefly. Simone liked Mercedes to an extent, and was attracted to her, but foremost in Simone’s mind was the threat of the Pearl. Some things held priority over others.

  When Simone returned to the sulfur-laden hot springs, Mercedes was asleep in her bedroll, one shapely leg sticking out from under her blanket, arms flung wide. Simone smiled a little. They were both exhausted; their travels hadn’t been easy.

  Simone set up the wood for the campfire but didn’t light it, set up the spear and wards to keep away anything unpleasant, and then, in a burst of inspiration, invoked her shamanic power for a trivial, harmless charm, something that shamans occasionally used on particularly restless children, a thing that promoted restful sleep and happy dreams, then unrolled her own bedroll, climbed into it, and was asleep in seconds.

  When Simone awoke, she awoke trapped, pinned, entangled in a bone-crushing embrace from behind. The smaller elf struggled, but the bonds only grew tighter, more relentlessly crushing. Simone opened her eyes; somehow Mercedes had migrated into Simone's bedroll and had wrapped her arms and legs around the smaller elf in an embrace that revealed the terrifying strength of the elven crusader. A cold feeling of dread infused Simone- this is how the journey to find the Pearl of N'Granek would end. Not in victory or failure, but crushed to death in the sleepy embrace of another elf.

  Simone snapped awake, drenched in icy sweat. The brown-skinned elf turned over in her bedroll; Mercedes was sitting up in her own bedroll, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The crusader reached over and picked up her leather clothes, and dressed quickly.

  Simone sat up in her bedroll, and gestured at the unlit campfire. A small flame crackled up from the tinder, a thin curl of smoke rose up.

  “That ‘hot spring’ is dangerous. It’s too relaxing.” Simone grumbled.

  Mercedes laughed a little. “Where I'm from we always bathe in hot water.” she replied, “Though hot springs are a rare treat.”

  Simone pulled out the pan they used, and poured water for tea, setting it in the fire to heat. The smaller elf glanced at the elven crusader.

  “It’s time we had a talk. About the Outsiders, about the Pearl, about the mountain, and our end goal.”

  Simone pointed to a spot across the fire.

  “Sit.”