It was just after dawn when a Slayer tapped on our shoulders and motioned for us to get out of his way. Milasia almost punched him, but let it go due to exhaustion and we limped ourselves back to the waking camp.

Now, Milasia has literally vanished and I am sitting on a bench in the middle of a circle of tents, watching the humans as they ready themselves to brace the day. I'm off duty so the need for sleep is strong, too strong, and without warning my body flops downwards and I sprawl out on the bench completely.

+ + +

Prod. Prod.

"I think she's dead."

"She's not dead. Here."

Prod.

I feel the jab into my side and my eyes snap open with caution. I meet the faces of two boys who laugh and run away. I rub my eyes and sit up, blinking softly at the sun that's high at the top of the sky.

"The sleeping Slayer is finally alive," a voice says. I glance over to find a handsome, dark-haired man smiling at me as he washes a piece of clothing in a large bucket. "Is it really that boring here?"

Crap. I should say something, but in a Slayer-tone, I think to myself. But I don't want to be rude.

"There's nothing like a stick to the gut to wake you from a nap," I mutter, attempting to sound monotone.

"Yeah the kids here can get quite mischievous," he laughs. "They often get bored easily, that's why most of them tend to hang out at the beach all day."

"And you?" I say. "What fills your day? Apart from the need to smell nice."

He grins. "Whatever I feel like doing. That's the beauty of being in a refugee camp, right? I have choices. The funny thing is, I remember a time when I had a lot more choices."

"We all do," I say. Curious by this man, I decide to walk over to him. I'm not ignorant to the boring eyes of the Slayers around us, but I don't care what they think anymore. "What is your name?"

"River Jonson."

"The River Jonson? The author?"

He nods, his eyebrows furrowed. "Yeah, how did you-"

"I have read all of your books, I can't believe. . . I mean. . ." I swallow. Shit. "I've heard about you. I haven't read anything. Slayers don't read. . . books."

River chuckles. "It's alright. I won't tell anyone. I didn't even think humans read my books let alone. . . sorry, I didn't mean-"

"No, it's fine. Let's face it, I'm not human. I am half human, though. And that part, loved your books. I fell in love with The Strider, the character, Alex, she helped me more than you'll ever know."

The look on his face is just confusion. Pure confusion. I don't know how to change it, I should stop talking.

"Thanks," he mutters. "Woah, you're certainly different. We could have used a Slayer like you around here months ago."

"I'm told I'm one of a kind." I smile to myself, awkwardly looking anywhere else but his dazzling, green eyes. "I should probably go."

He takes a wet shirt and rinses it over the bucket, his thick arms tensing as he bites on his teeth and looks up at the sun. In that moment, I am transfixed.

"Hey, Dad, can I go play in the woods with Shaun?"

My bubble bursts at the arrival of David. He smiles at me and I stare back.

"Dad?" I whisper.

"Sure, but make sure you're in the sight of a guard."

"I will. Thanks. Hi, Nala."

"Hi, David."

Was I too quick to assume that the boy was an orphan? How sad has this world become that I wouldn't even consider the possibility that another parent is here with him? The way the boy spoke made it sound like he had lost everything, but he was just grieving for his mother.

"You already met my son, then," River says. "He's quite shy around your kind."

I shrug. "He's a nice kid. I felt. . . drawn to him."

His eyes meet mine with both caution and warning. "Maybe it's best if you don't talk to him again. I just don't want him getting mixed up between the world of the refugees and your world. You understand that, right?"

"I understand perfectly."

He's panicking. He thinks I'm a Slayer so it's natural he'll want to defend his son's secret from being exposed. I can't tell him that I already know because I don't know how he'll react; he might hate witches just as much as everyone else. But yet, he still fell in love with one—presumably—just like my father did with my mother. If there's one thing Wiccans and Slayers have in common it's that they both like mating with humans.

"It's not that I don't trust your kind," he says. "But it's different when your child is involved. The boy's been through a lot and he needs human friends around him right now, nothing else."

"We just exchanged names, nothing more," I lie. "But there is something you should know about your son." I stand to my feet and he squints up at me. "He has a bright future ahead of him. He won't ever have to be afraid again."

"You can promise that can you?"

"No, but I see it. And I know you see it too. Take care, River Jonson."

"You too, Nala."

He grins at me slightly and I take the moment to walk away. I drift between tents, moving past person after person, treading on clothing and small objects left on the ground. As I near the pathway to the beach, a strong hand pulls on my arm and yanks me sideways.

A large man with a half-shaved head and rotten teeth hisses at me as I regain my footing. His face is red with rage and one hand is balled into a fist as another one points over my shoulder.

"This is the third time in a row that low life thief has stolen from me. This time, he took my fish. It was right over there, hanging from a hook over the firepit. Today it's gone, and he's suddenly cooking fish for his lunch even though he didn't go on the fishing trip this morning." In confusion, I glance over to the man he's pointing at. He is across the way, turning a large fish on a pike over a fire, he is slim with red hair and a long, pointy nose. He stares over at us, his eyes narrowing when he sees me. "Are you going to do something about it, Slayer? Because if you don't, I'm going to go over there and kick the crap out of him."

"Uh. . ."

"Uh. . . what?" the man demands. "Do I have to go over there and sort this myself!" he suddenly begins yelling so that the other man can hear. "You better hope I don't get my hands on you, you thieving scum!"

"Maybe it's best if-"

"What are you laughing at!"

"-if you ignore me," I sigh, watching hopelessly as the man charges over. I look around hastily for Tex, or any Slayer that can somehow help, but there's just me and a few humans that are watching from their tents.

By the time I get there, the man has the red-haired thief in a death grip against a tree and is screaming in his face. When I try to split them up, I receive a very fierce elbow to the face which knocks me backwards. The red head looks at me over his shoulder, his eyes widening as he sees mine change. My eyes have been known to change colour when I'm angry, sometimes amber, sometimes orange, merely for a few seconds, but it's enough for the redhead to realise something is wrong.

I roll my shoulders back and take a deep breath. I might be a girl and half his body weight, but a witch's strength is five times that of a human's. Any human. I claw my fingers into his jacket and I pull him away from the tree, flinging him to the ground.

"Enough!" I say. I turn to the redhead. "You, give him the fish back. And stop stealing from him and anyone else or I'll speak to Tex about having you thrown out."

The redhead nods. "Consider it done. I have waited a very long time for your intervention."

I stare at him for a moment, before turning to the disgruntled giant on the ground. "And you, hit me like that again and I'll remove your hand. Violence isn't the answer here, no matter the cause. There's children nearby for god sake, set an example."

"I apologise," the man mutters. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I got carried away. I just want my fish back."

"And you'll get it back," I say. "Now, get it and go. Have a nice day, gentlemen."

I turn away from them, wiping the blood from underneath my nose. I look up towards the path, and my eyes land on Sam. He waits for me patiently, with a slight smirk.

"Did you enjoy the show?" I hiss.

"I will admit, for a moment I thought I'd have to intervene, but you handled it well," he says, holding back a chuckle at the sight of my bleeding nose.

"Well I'm glad this was amusing to you," I say. "Probably just as amusing as knowing I'd have to spend the entire night with Milasia."

"It did bring me some delight. You're still breathing though, that's good. Milasia returned hours ago, she said to leave you for a while because you were exhausted."

"I'm surprised you cared."

"I don't. But transporting in an unfit state can be fatal. Let's go."

"I want to come back tonight," I call at his back as he charges up the path. "I want to be posted here again."

"You're not a Slayer, Theresa. You don't make the rules."

I stop walking, that grabs his attention.

"Then I'll stay," I say. "These people need me."

"No, they don't. They're safe, they're happy. If you stay, you are the one jeopardizing that."

"There is a boy in there," I say, turning to look back. "And I made a promise to him. I can't keep that promise if I'm in the castle."

He shakes his head in disbelief. "You've been here one night and you've already made promises? The best thing you can do for these people is to help us figure out a way to kill Amara. This isn't the place for you."

"I can't leave him."

"What matters more? The fate of one boy or the fate of millions?"

"You haven't met this boy."

"And if I did, it wouldn't make a difference. The world is depending on us."

"Since when was there an us?"

He half-smiles. "Since you passed the test. Now, come on."

I sigh and accede to his demands. Not because I have to, I could easily defy him and walk back into that camp, but deep down I know he's right. I can't do anything for anyone inside that camp, that's not where the war is. But still, I have to make sure David is safe, and no matter the means, I will find a way to do that.

Sam and I walk along the crowded beach for a while. He ignores the humans, but I pay attention to every one of them. The women basking in the sun, the children jumping into the water, the couples holding hands as they trail along the shoreline. It's like a different world. It's addictive. When we pass two Slayer guards and enter a silent part of the beach, it becomes clear where the boundary line is.

"Why do you transport so far away?" I ask.

"It's a rule that every Slayer abides, so we don't scare the children. Many of them still don't know that we have supernatural abilities. They just see us as their protectors."

"So, every time you come here you have to walk along this incredibly pretty beach? How in the world do you cope?"

"With difficulty," he mumbles.

He stops and puts out his hand. I stare at it, reluctant to leave. I'm surprised he hasn't forced me to come with him, maybe he's starting to respect my choices in a different way than he has before.

"If I give you permission to return tomorrow, will you come with me?"

I smile, placing my hand in his, and just for a tiny moment, I see the mighty Slayer leader smile back.