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The masses came to know of Judith's existence when fire burned for three days straight at forest acting as the West border of Grendel.
Holding an enigmatic flat iron sphere in front of her face, the girl's petite body clad in neck-high and loose-sleeved dark fuchsia dress, in front of her a burning inferno—she sung.
The forest-eating fire started from a spot far from civilization, behind a large river many villagers thought would serve as enough obstacle. Then two nights passed and the first trees on their side of the river caught fire. It was day, the forager and farmers had returned, and people either nap or rested in their respective huts, just feeling the air's a little bit hotter than usual.
By the time they stepped out from their houses, the fire has formed a tall wall. Their first reaction was to put out the fire. By evening some initial trees had turned to ashes or pitch-black and another side of the forest had caught fire. The sky was and still a clear blue without a cloud on sight.
So the villagers packed up, took out their precious belongings, pull their family, herded their already-restless cattle and horses to the valley; the only route out from their far-off village.
When the sun's down and they looked back, the fire was waving goodbye.
Then one man called out with eyes fixed on a spot above. The whole group felt a strong breeze waltzing through and looked in the same direction.
They only managed to catch a glimpse of deep fuchsia color against the sunset sky.
Some of the curious ones turned back and ran towards the forest.
And there on the top of a stopped windmill, the petite girl stood and sang.
The originally clear sky gathered clouds. Warm heat left from noon and fire dissipated. A cool wind blew, as the windmill turned faster, but the girl's voice still echoes in tranquility, without instrumental accompaniment yet still bring forth a beautiful melody, enchanting not only the near-by people; it passes to the valley, calmed down the cattle and horses, seduced the others to halt evacuating.
Some saw the silent guardian cloaked in deep blue with copper-colored thread atop a rooftop, ground, fruit tree, and on the windmill's base. If they weren't so enchanted, then they may glimpse a distinct emblem embroidered on their upper sleeve, so then after rainstorm came to the forest, after the fire was put out, after everyone had a good night sleep while listening to the rain, after a night passes and the noble landlord's border soldiers came to ask who was the sorceress calling forth rain—
Fortunately, they were enchanted on the petite figure seemingly blending with a streak of sunset's pink perched on the windmill's roof.
Else, Judith would have been hauled back to the Royal Capital right away.
It would set the wheel in motion earlier.
That truly wouldn't do.
