"I say we rest here for the night," Gwaine suggested to Leon, "The next decent camp we could reach is an hour and a half away at best."

The company stopped in an area covered with huge boulders. Four or five of the massive rocks had piled on top of each other, creating a shallow cave, if one could call it a cave. The sky was dark, the first stars just beginning to break through the twilight.

Leon nodded, "We'll stop here for the night. No fires again, eat bread and cheese for dinner."

They did as instructed. First up for watch were Leon and Galahad. The others, done with their meal, laid their bedrolls out under the small overhang, their horses tied to a dead tree just beside them.

Fira woke up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep. She couldn't put her finger on why that was, but whatever the reason, she decided to climb out and stretch her legs.

Fira pulled herself up the rocks onto the top where it was flat. Sitting down in the middle of the large space she sighed heavily.

"Fira?"

Sir Tor whispered to her and climbed up beside her on the left. She flashed a small smile but reverted back to her staring.

"Who are you talk to, Tor," Morholt asked quietly, clambering up to Fira's right, "Oh Fira. What are you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep," she shrugged.

Sir Tor hesitated, "Fira, how strong is your magic? Are you... Are you the Druidic Mage of legend?"

Fira was caught off guard by this. She spent a few moments thinking to herself.

"I am powerful. Quite powerful. And though I've never heard that particular title before, I think that yes, it applies to me."

"Then who is Emrys?" Morholt pressed.

Fira grew stiff. Why would they want to know that? Had she been wrong to trust them? Were they after information?

Tor noted her reaction, "Never mind, if it’s so important that it be kept secret. We didn't mean to alarm you."

Morholt nodded in agreement. He hadn't meant for his question to cause Fira to react as she did. He apologized to her.

"It's alright," she assured him, "I'm just not comfortable with telling you two right now. It’s a matter of great delicacy."

They understood and respected her decision. Neither thought more of it. After all, if they pushed her she would only get more suspicious, and then they'd never find out who Emrys was.

They sat there for a while, no one talking. No one wanted to break the precious silence all around them. Fira yawned, her fatigue finally catching up with her.

"You have another hour or so before guard," Tor reminded her, "Why not go grab some sleep while you can."

She nodded, another yawn forming. Fira wished them goodnight and retreated back into the tiny overhang.

"Can you believe it, Tor," Morholt whispered excitedly, "We get to travel with the Lady of legend!"

Tor smiled, "I'd never have expected it, that's for sure."

"Perhaps there is hope yet for Somerset," Morholt sighed.

"We certainly need all the help we can get."

"Have you thought at all about what we will do once we reach Somerset? After all, we aren't exactly welcome there."

"Maybe the King will see straight when we return," Tor suggested, though the doubt in his voice was clearly evident.

Morholt snorted in disbelief.

-*-

"Fira," Tor whispered, shaking the sleeping girl.

Morholt had just woken up Gwaine and Percival and soon enough Fira was dragging herself sleepily outside and up onto the giant rocks.

"Look who's awake," Gwaine chuckled quietly as he scooted over to let Fira sit in the middle of the two knights.

"Don’t remind me," she grumbled sleepily, rubbing her eyes.

"You can go back to bed if you want," Percival offered, "We'll cover with Leon if he asks."

"Maybe," she yawned again.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a flash of white. It was similar to what she'd seen the day they left Camelot. Instantly she was awake and standing up, hand on her sword.

"Did either of you see that?"

"See what," Gwaine asked quickly, standing up beside her and drawing his weapon quietly. Percival followed suite.

"It’s something white. Like a bird. I keep just barely catching it in my vision."

Both men shook their heads. Neither had seen anything of the sort. Eventually they settled back down, relaxing.

Fira laid back on the rock, facing the night sky. She gazed up contentedly. The sky was so beautiful. She breathed slowly, taking in the cold, crisp, night air.

"They say that destiny is written in the stars," she commented quietly some time later.

Gwaine smirked, "Then you must be half the night sky."

Fira jabbed him in the side playfully with her elbow.

"Do you think that's true," Percival asked quizzically.

"Maybe."

"I write my own destiny," Gwaine insisted.

Fira looked at him in surprise, "You don't believe in prophecies then?"

Gwaine shrugged, "Not really. I mean, maybe someone a long time ago was able to use magic to see my future, but I still wrote it myself."

Fira considered this. She'd always struggled with coming to terms with having her entire life prophesied already. It felt like living in a shadow with no light in sight. Perhaps she'd been thinking about it all wrong. And yet the fact still remained that she was told what she would do beforehand.

Percival nodded slowly. He agreed with Gwaine; he'd not be any sorcerer's puppet. He'd forge his own name and his own honor. Whatever happened, good or bad, it would be entirely his fault.

The morning dawn brightly. They ate breakfast quickly, wanting to get a move on as soon as possible. Gwaine told Leon that they'd probably have to spend one more night in the Perilous Lands before reaching the Outlying Kingdoms. They were lucky that this part of the Perilous Lands as skinny heading south.

They saw no sign of the wyverns that day. To pass the time, the men took turns swapping stories of their travels and adventures. Gwaine just finished a particularly gruesome tale when Tor spoke up.

"How about you, Fira? Any good stories?"

No answer. They looked back, for she had been on rear guard. They caught sight of her a little ways back, dismounted from Aland and crouching over something.

"Fira?" Gwaine called.

Still she didn't seem to hear them. He shrugged and Leon urged them back towards her.

"Fira what are you doing," Leon asked, confused.

"Look at this," she motioned, not turning around and avoiding the question.

Gwaine dismounted from Gringolet and crouched beside her. In front of them was a white blossoming flower on a bright green stem. It was oddly shaped, its petals in a pinwheel pattern around its large yellow center.

"It’s called a Luminaré. I've read about it in books but I never expected to come across it," she explained, her voice full of excitement.

"What's so special about it," Elyan asked.

Morholt explained, "It’s a very special flower. When used in certain incantations under moonlight, it’s extremely powerful."

"But the spells it is used in are extremely difficult and complex," Fira reminded them.

Quickly she drew the dagger she had received from the druids from her belt and cut off the blossom. She placed it between two flat rocks and wrapped those tightly and carefully before storing it in her pack.

"Alright, we can go," Fira nodded, hopping onto Aland's back and leading the group onwards. Gwaine shook his head with a smile and sighed. She was such an odd little thing.

"So, Fira. Any stories you can share with us," Tor tried again.

"Well," she began, thinking, "How about the time I met this druid boy in the forest. I was probably six at the time, and I was living as an apprentice to the man you met the other day. Well, we were out in the woods. I was learning about different herbs and how to pick them.

"Suddenly this little boy, a few years older than me, comes running out of nowhere. We could feel his powerful magic, and his druid tattoo was visible, but no one was with him. We took him back to camp where he remained for several weeks until we could track down his clan.

"They had been ravaged by men of Camelot for holding the Lady Morgana. But he claimed that she had wished to stay with them. Anyways, what remained of his clan took him in and he left us soon after. I've always wondered what became of him."

"I remember that day," Leon sighed, "King Uther ordered the men to follow then Prince Arthur and destroy the camp. Morgana was obviously distraught when we found her."