A/N: i'm so sorry it took me forever to update! my computer broke, so i had to write this on my phone, and i've just been so busy with school starting. but i managed to scrape together this chapter! also, check out my new book hitchhikers.

Furious fireflies flung their bodies against the sides of the wicker balls. Their angry flashes shone through the openings in the sticks, softly illuminating the marshy swamp around them. Flare gulped and looked around. Das had indeed been correct - it wasn't long until she was confronted by two others, who leapt down from a tree and asked her what she was doing with a snarl. They then demanded that she release their citizen and led her to a small village that Flare couldn't see until she looked up.
    Qiasans dwelled in treehouses, poorly constructed using mud and branches. As Flare was led into the tiny circle of trees, the bog people stuck their heads out from every small house, their curious and hungry yellow eyes reflecting the dim light. She was shoved onto a rock in a center of the village, where she stood, bones trembling, with creatures gazing out at her from every direction.
    "This human is guilty of harming a member of our own kind," one Qiasan snarled. The group gasped in horror.
    "I was hurt, dreadfully," the Qiasan whom Flare had captured howled pitifully. Enraged chattering engulfed them.
    "And we all know what that means," the other citizen yelled above the hollers.  Before Flare had a chance to react, she heard a voice from the edge of the center of trees.
    "Hello?" a woman's voice called out. The bog people whipped their heads towards her. Into the circle stepped a phytomancer, who crossed her arms and aimed a fiery glare at one Qiasan who was keeping a tight grip on Flare.
    "Irsitk, have you not forgotten about our meeting tonight? We were to negotiate the terms for the upcoming month," the woman snapped. She noticed Flare, and her eyes widened. "What are you doing with this girl?"
    "She attacked a member of our village. You know the rules," Irsitk hissed.
    "Did they even read you your rights, dear?" the phytomancer asked Flare, her tone softening slightly. Flare shook her head no, her hands, which had been shaking with trepidation, beginning to steady. Smugly, the woman looked back at Irsitk.
    "You know the rules. Read her her rights, now," she demanded with an authoritative tone.
    Irsitk sighed and prattled off a long list of apparent rights that Flare possessed. She wasn't really listening until she heard something that pertained to her: "In the event that you are being arrested for the cause of the physical harm of a Qiasan, you may request to be released if the confrontation was instigated by a Qiasan."
    "It was instigated, I was acting in self defense," Flare protested.
    "False!" Das shouted. "Her cat attacked me. I was simply minding my own business but happened to be in the same tree as this human."
    "You had a spear!" Flare yelled back, and the crowd rustled with a soft mutter.
    "Das," Irsitk began. "What did you intend on doing with this spear?"
    "I just... I just had it with me," Das replied with a quiet grumble.
    "Clearly there's too many opinions here to go about this rationally," the woman claimed. "I call for a court session."
    "Is that really necessary, Bambula?" a Qiasan asked the phytomancer, his tone hinting that it was more of a threat than a question. "It would be our first one in decades."
    "Yes, Ga'u," Bambula said firmly. "Our system, although it claims to be fair, is outdated. It's time we had some justice."
"Very well," Irsitk replied. Ga'u looked as if he was about to protest, but didn't.
"Where will the girl stay?" Irsitk inquired.
"Your village," Bambula proclaimed, making Flare's heart thump. "But Das must stay in our village. If we treat him as anything less than one of us, you can have all of our village's cows. But if you treat Flare poorly, we will not pay you for half a year."
"This sounds reasonable. If anyone has objections, speak now," Irsitk spoke to the crowd. No one spoke, apart from mumbles whispered to the ones around them. "Good. Flare, come with me. You will stay in the treehouse with me and Ga'u."
"Okay," Flare said shakily. The qiasans constraining her let go, making her stumble forward. The crowd dispersed, and Bambula beckoned her over.
"You'll be okay. Don't worry," the phytomancer assured her. "The trial will be held tomorrow. Just tell the truth. If Das really did instigate it, you'll walk free. Don't worry. Rest up," Bambula told Flare, rubbing the girl's shoulder. Flare didn't see how she would be able to take that advice.

•••

When Flare was woken up by Ga'u vigorously shaking her, her blanket was wet with dew from sleeping on the porch of the treehouse, and she hung it up to dry. She knew the humid swamp air wouldn't do much for it, but hopefully the thin rays of marmalade morning sun that shone through the leaves would help. Irsitk then handed her a hunk of meat wrapped in a large leaf, undercooked and still slightly bloodied. Flare sniffed it, trying to identify what it was, but nothing came to mind. She was hesitant about eating it, but her stomach growled incessantly, so she cautiously bit in. Juice dripped down her chin, and she wiped it away quickly. It wasn't delicious, but it wasn't awful, and it left Flare's hunger satisfied.
"Where is Flare?" Flare heard the authoritative voice of Bambula from below as she finished off the last remaining morsels. She descended the ladder of the treehouse.
"I came by because I figured we had some logistics to work out. Obviously, we'll do a half human, half qiasan panel of judges to avoid bias." Flare stood next to Bambula as she talked to a group of qiasans, presumably the leaders of the small town. Ga'u and Irsitk were among them.
"Of course. Who would you select for the panel?" Irsitk asked.
"Myself, Aster, Olive, and Dahlia. And your four?"
"Hold on," a qiasan who Flare didn't know interrupted. "Dahlia despises us. She'll vote your way no matter what evidence we have."
"Fine. I'll choose Chrysanthemum, then," Bambula sighed.
"We will do all four of us here. That includes myself, Ga'u, Ku'ar, and Oras," Irsitk told Bambula.
"Good. When will the trial begin?"
"Bring Das to our village at midmorning," a qiasan - either Ku'ar or Oras - proclaimed.
"No, we have an actual place in which we can hold the trial. You just have a multipurpose clearing in the middle of your town. Bring Flare to us at midmorning," Bambula insisted, folding her arms. The qiasans grumbled, but didn't disagree.
"How will we handle visitors? Surely there will want to be spectators," Ga'u asked. Bambula sighed.
"I don't know, Ga'u. Just let them come. It's fine. What could they do?"
"Okay. We will see you when the sun is halfway to noon," Irsitk closed off the conversation.
"Yes. Good day, Irsitk. And good day to all of you, too," Bambula added, and returned home.

•••

Flare took her seat in a wicker-type chair, wringing her hands together nervously. The judgemental eyes of tens of qiasans bore into her, which didn't help her anxiety. However, she also felt the sympathetic gaze of the villagers. She took a deep breath, hoping to steady her shaking nerves and prepare herself for the results.
The trial had gone by in what seemed like a blur, but it was really mid-afternoon by the time they finished. Many villagers and qiasans had left to get lunch, and then returned with food. No one offered Flare anything, but she didn't mind; she wasn't hungry anyway. Honestly, she had no idea what the outcome would be. She knew she was in the right, but the qiasans made some strong arguments. As she pondered the possible outcomes, Abby leapt up onto the table in front of Flare, and Flare smiled as she stroked the cat.
"The panel has reached a conclusion," Bambula said, banging a gavel on the panel's table three times. The eight on the board took their seats, and everyone in the room held their breath, the anticipation thick and heavy.
"We have concluded," Irsitk said, his voice slow and smooth. "That Das is guilty."
Immediately, the room erupted into cries of outrage from the qiasans. Flare squeezed her eyes shut in a weak attempt to block it out. She was in disbelief at her win, but there would undoubtedly be some angered ones.
"Decorum!" Chrysanthemum cried, hitting the gavel three more times. Slowly, the room was submerged into quiet again, save for a few harsh whispers that could be heard from the qiasans. "We must respect the results of the trial. It was even and fair, and you all agreed to that at the beginning. Please, remain calm, despite the outcome."
"Thank you, Chrysanthemum," Aster said. "I will now announce Das's sentence."
Flare glanced over at Das, who looked nervous and angry all at once. Aster was a harsh woman, with stick-straight brown hair, pursed lips, and cold grey eyes.
"Das, you will be sentenced to two seasons in prison. The panel now calls this trial to an end, unless there are any protests from the witnesses," Aster said, shooting the crowd a glare and then refocusing her attention back on Flare and Das. Flare gulped, hoping Das would accept his sentence.
Das gave a meek no, hanging his head in shame. He stood up. "I will accept the results of this fair and just trial," he uttered, as was customary for witnesses to say after trials if they had no protests.
"I will accept the results of this fair and just trial," Flare recited after Das had concluded.
"Good. Trial adjourned," Aster said, whacking the gavel against the table one, two, three more times.
Flare was led outside by Bambula, where Chrysanthemum found her, a grin on the cheerful phytomancer's face. Flare smiled. Chrysanthemum was her favorite on the panel. Her warm coffee eyes and curly chocolate hair were inviting and welcoming, and she always wore a smile on her face.
"You did wonderfully," Chrysanthemum beamed, wrapping Flare in a hug.
"Thanks, I was nervous," Flare replied, giving a weak laugh.
"I couldn't tell. You did great, dear," the phytomancer said, resting her hand on Flare's shoulder. "I wanted to offer you a place to stay for the next few nights. I'm assuming you're a traveler?"
"Yeah," Flare nodded.
"Well, if you want to take a break, then me and my family would be happy to have you for a little while," Chrysanthemum said.
"That would actually be amazing," Flare smiled. Only for one or two nights, she told herself. She did have places to be, after all, but the tempting promise of a nice place to stay sounded great.
Chrysanthemum led Flare to her home, a place much bigger than Holly's, and better constructed. In fact, this whole town seemed to be bigger and better. Flare assumed it was one of the better-known ones, but probably not the main kingdom. Usually those were grand and palatial, places that had to fend off visitors.
"Everyone! We're here!" Chrysanthemum yelled into the house. Flare looked around. The yellow lighting was warm and soft, casting a glow on the wood and logs that constructed the home. Their furniture looked well built and was beautifully made, from the rustic and unshaved tree trunk table to the perfectly whittled wooden doors.
Flare heard the patter of feet, then saw a young girl running down the stairs. She launched herself into the arms of her mom, and Chrysanthemum laughed, smoothing down the wild curls of her daughter.
"Flare, this is my daughter Sage," Flare waved at the girl, who smiled back. She seemed to be around nine or ten years old, and her face was youthful and cute, with glowing skin and bright eyes.
"And my husband, Miller," Chrysanthemum said, kissing her husband as he walked in the room. "Darling, this is Flare. She'll be staying with us for a day or two, if that's alright."
"You're the girl from the trial," Miller said in disbelief. "Nice to meet you. Good for you for standing up to the qiasans."
Flare shook Miller's outstretched hand.
"And my son Sycamore should be around here somewhere," Chrysanthemum said, glancing around. "Sage, sweetie, will you go and find your brother?"
"Sure," Sage said, running upstairs.
Moments later, the girl came back down, tugging her brother by his hand. He looked to be about the same age as the pyromancer.
"Hi," he said, his voice low and bored.
"Sycamore, this is Flare. She'll be staying with us for a little while," Chrysanthemum said in a tone that showed she disapproved of her son's disinterested demeanor. Sycamore shot her a quick smirk.
"Okay," he said. "Is that all?"
Chrysanthemum sighed. "Can you show Flare to her room?"
"Sure."
"I'll make you some food in a bit," Chrysanthemum touched Flare's shoulder, her voice softening. "You must be starving."
Flare followed Sycamore upstairs, struggling slightly to keep up with his long strides. He opened the second door on the left of the hallway.
"You can sleep here," he said. "Guest room."
"Thanks," Flare replied awkwardly, clutching the straps of her backpack as she waited for Sycamore to leave.
"Well, see you. Bathroom's down the hall," he mentioned and left.
Flare set Abby down, and the cat promptly curled up on a leafy rug in the corner. The bed suddenly looked so inviting, and Flare took the opportunity to curl up and drift off into sleep.