"Why not?"

"Because, child, it is forbidden."

"Why is it forbidden?" Millie looked up at the elder. He was patient and could see in her countenance she was not being defiant, merely curious, as the young always are.

"It is forbidden because it is forbidden; that is all you need to know for now, child. Stay clear of Gau-Do, little one. Nothing good can come from it."

Millie stood in the watchtower beside the Elder-on-Watch, the base Sergeant-at-Arms, Andre Djilas. It always struck Millie as silly to call Andre and the others "Elders" since most of them were about the same age as her brother, Jenex. She wondered if Andre needed to shave more than once a week. But, he was the elder in the tower at the moment, so he was as good a conversational partner as any.

"But, you've never been, you know, close to it?"

Andre looked down at her. Not annoyed—he was glad to have the company, the evening watches seemed to take forever when he was alone—but in no mood to reiterate that learned in The Lessons.

"No closer than this, and this is close enough."

"You've seen it, though?"

"Of course, I've seen it."

Millie's eyes grew wide. "You have? What does it look like?"

"You serious? You can see it whenever you want. It's right there." Andre pointed past the open field, past the river, to a tree line of evenly-spaced conifers.

Millie looked and looked but saw nothing. "Where?"

"Here," Andre said, handing her his binos, "look there, just past that rock that looks like Director Riggan."

Oh my, she thought, it did look like Director Big Nose (as the children had secretly called him for as long as he'd been in charge of the Academy). Millie was about to ask how to change the focus when her finger found the knob. She scanned east from the rock into the trees.

There! She saw something! Something moving, slowly, lumbering around, frustratingly staying just behind enough flora-trash to never entirely be visible.

It was big, round-backed, furry. The fur was a dark, dark red. It walked on all fours—wait, but it could stand, reach, like a man—then back to all fours. Its limbs looked massive and robust. It had little round ears on top of its head, but she still hadn't seen its face.

Wait!

It was about to come into a clearing. It was going to—

"Okay, that's enough." Millie felt the strap tug against her neck. "I need those back."

"But—"

"I'm on duty, kid."

Millie spent weeks—how many, she didn't know exactly—going to the tower, sitting atop the overcrossing, getting kicked off of rooftops, trying desperately to catch another glimpse of Gau-Do. She wasn't sure at first if it was merely her need to complete the task, having come so frustratingly close that night in the tower, or if something else was drawing her toward the Creature. She stopped caring about the why and became singularly focused on completing the mission she'd given herself.

It was getting close to Frost Season. Millie was still at it, still trying, still sneaking her father's looking glass, still straining her eyes. She knew she was running out of time, at least until The Warming started some months later. She told herself, You can have one more—okay, three more days spent like this.

It took one-and-a-half.

Morning. She was supposed to feed the chickens and collect the eggs, but instead, she went to the same watchtower where she'd first seen the Creature.

Gau-Do.

The thing she was to fear.

Elder Binton was on duty. She was also leaning against the wooden lodge pole walls, fast asleep. Even Millie knew the harsh penalties for falling asleep on duty and didn't want to get the elder in trouble, but she wasn't quite ready to wake up the corporal—not until she'd had her look. Too many questions. She'd make sure to wake up Bindy before she left, though. (She was friendly and always had candy or ice cream to share with the Littles.)

Millie slipped off her shoes, padded past the sleeping guard, pulled her father's looking glass from the case, and began where she'd left off: Mr. Big Nose Rock. She scanned the tree line, looking for any sign of movement. Millie's heart nearly stopped when Bindy shifted her weight, but a too-loud snore and 'grumphalable' let her know that the young woman was still happily dreaming, probably of warmth and pillows and blankets.

Then it happened. The movement was subtle but definite. She spotted it naked-eyed while scanning for other landmarks. Millie quickly brought up the glass to where she'd seen the Creature and—

"Shit!"

Her hand instinctively shot up, covering her mouth. She looked around for the briefest moment before laughing to herself. Who would chastise her for foul words up here, she thought? No instructors, no parents. Just a sleeping guard with other, more pressing things to concern herself with should anyone of authority come their way.

Once she had re-centered, it hit her what had caused her reaction.

Gau-Do.

It had been looking directly at her.

She wanted to go back and see if she was right, but she also didn't want to.

The former won out, and Millie turned her head, her eyes finding the familiar landmarks, slowly traveling along the opening between trees and river until she was looking eye-to-eye with a massive, dark red bear.

"Hello, Millie."

It's a strange thing, talking to a bear. Gau-Do didn't talk like a human, but she could hear him nonetheless. Even telepathically, his voice was deep, powerful, ancient. He stayed on the other side of the river, yet she could hear him as clearly as if they stood together in the tower. He could hear her, too, but only if she actually spoke. That took some time; it was an unnatural way to communicate. But she quickly adapted.

Over days and weeks, they became friends, talking not as two sworn foes but as she’d seen the mothers do over drinks in the Caff-house.

"No, Millie, you are the only one," the beast said. "Everyone else looks down on me from atop the watchtowers and assumes I am the worst of things, the grandest danger. But not you. You see me as I am."

"What's that?"

"I am merely a truth-bringer, a mirror. Only dangerous to those afraid of Truth. But to you, young one, I am a friend."

Millie looked at the big bear. He did LOOK dangerous. But what if they were wrong? What if those sharp teeth were merely tools so he might not starve, much like the knives they used in the Hall to cut meat into bite-sized portions? What if those long, scary claws on those massive, strong paws were but tools to help the bear dig through dirt and bark for food? Should he starve? Should he reduce his massive frame—the very thing that keeps him atop the food chain—to become less frightening?

"No…" she said out loud to no one.

She shared with him her plans for the future, her likes and dislikes about the hardscrabble, self-determined life the Fort offered. He shared with her how, with a little bit of agreed-upon sharing of resources, there could be enough for all, enough to share. She talked to him about her everyday life; He spoke to her about how to avoid being stifled by such silly things as hierarchy, class structure, arbitrary societal rules.

"You have taught me so much," Millie offered one sunny afternoon.

"Perhaps, young one, but you have taught me as well. I only wish—"

"What?"

"Oh, nothing, child. Nothing."

"No, you were going to say something. You wish for something. What is it?"

"Well, if I must, I only wish that you and I, that the river, the fence, didn't separate us. I only wish we could walk together in the trees, the sunlight on our faces as we share honey, berries, stories, dreams."

"That would be lovely."

"But you are not permitted. And that's okay. The Elders have spoken on this, even if the rule is, well…"

Millie considered this. Why couldn't she? Why couldn't she open the gate, go outside, visit her friend? Because it's 'forbidden?' Why? Forbidden by whom? Ancient law? She thought, They are all afraid of Gau-Do because they don't know him, not like I do.

"My generation must at least try to make things better; why are we here at all if we don’t try?"

Gau-Do was silent for a few moments. "Well, I suppose your logic is unimpeachable. But—"

"But nothing. I will open the gates. I will come to see you, walk the woods with you."

Millie packed a bag and threw the straps over her shoulders. It was heavy, but she wasn't sure how long she'd be gone, and the day's summer heat was deceptive—she knew how cold the nights could get amongst the trees. She grabbed some wax paper and wrapped up some meat scraps to bring her friend before heading to the gate.

She had never opened the gate before. She'd seen it done many times when hunting parties or trash-wagons or the like had to come or go. While the gates were heavy, they were constructed using a series of counterweights, pullies, and ropes that meant she should be able to open them.

She took a deep breath: This was the right thing to do. The elders meant well, but their warnings needed to be updated, revised. Why would anyone be afraid of a wise old bear? He wasn't trying to hurt anyone. He was her friend.

Millie got up on her tiptoes to get a finger around the latch rope. She started to put her weight into pulling the massive metal latch out of its housing unit when—

"Millennia, no!"

Andre was running toward her, full speed, while knocking an arrow, his longbow extended.

"Don't open that!"

She froze.

"Get back!"

It was too late to stop the process; the massive gate was already starting to swing open.

She could see Binton, along with Roswell, MacDonough, and many others, running toward the gate, weapons at the ready. The alarm bell was clanging throughout the Fort, waking all.

What were they so afraid of, she wondered. It seemed like such an overreaction to an old, kind-hearted bear.

"Get down!" she heard again.

She turned to look where everyone else was looking.

Gau-Do, her best friend, ran toward the open gate at full speed.

One of many.

The whole bank between the Fort and the river was alive with fur, teeth, and claws as an army of dark red bears rushed the wide-open entryway to the fortification.

Millie could only watch as violence erupted all around her. Swords swung in wide arcs, finding fur and bone. Teeth crushed skulls, giant paws snapped limbs. Bears trailed dark red blood as spear tips thrashed about their insides, slicing, destroying.

Bindy, whom Millie knew only as the sleeper, took down a bear on her own with a running crossbow shot to the side of the skull. Without stopping, she slid under another bear and pierced its thick hide with her belt knife, finding its heart. The dying bear got in its own fatal strike, cracking Bindy’s skull with a mighty paw. She stumbled back and died where she fell.

Millie watched as her friends and family fought against the invading force. “Why?”

“Because, child…” It was Gao-do. She turned to see him standing amid the chaos. “The Ancient Law. You are Man; We are Bear.”

“But we can change.”

“No, child, we cannot.”