Brightmeadow had been walking in the Garden, admiring the foliage, when the commotion had begun.

She stopped a safe distance away and watched as the group of hearty young men bashed on the green house door.

Brightmeadow assumed that they were chasing somebody down. The politics of the Fortress were new to her, and not all faces familiar, so she stood still under an oak tree, watching the drama unfold, unwilling to become involved in something she didn't understand.

Suddenly, a wave of pressure flowed through the witch, and she felt disoriented. Brightmeadow put a hand out to steady herself, and, after a few moments, felt another wave, this time as though the force was subsiding.

Magic, thought the witch, and looked at the party of pursuers with new scrutiny, looking for a sign as to where the magic had come from.

When the pursuers removed the limp bodies of Elbo and Ladybird - these new friends Brightmeadow did recognise, and also that they were not dead, their auras were present, dim but present - the witch felt a fierce anger rise inside her.

She fought the urge to attack the pursuers at that instant, and pushed in closer to the tree, watching as they carried Ladybird and Elbo away.

When it was safe to do so, Brightmeadow followed, unsure of what she was going to do, but sure that she was going to help Ladybird and Elbo any way that she could.

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