Alni

by K Fisher

  Leaving the dark room, Alni made his way towards the main entrance, glancing over at the fireplace and cot before leaving. The sunlight shone through the hole nearest the fireplace, illuminating the empty room. There were several pieces of parchment on the table that stood out against the dark wood. Approaching it, Alni noted the well-drawn maps, thankful for the mysterious man and quick turn of events.

  Grabbing the maps and placing them in his side pack, he turned to make his way up the old, broken stairs that led up to the entrance of the tree. Stairs he had not seen there the previous night when he fell, although it had been too dark to confirm with certainty. One foot tentatively reached out and pressed against the first, part of him convinced the pressure would make the stairs disappear. His mind felt fuzzy and unorganized and Alni found himself wondering if it had anything to do with being so far underground. Was there lack of air to blame for his mindset? No matter the case, the only way to get out was to go up.

  When he got to the top of the stairs, he pushed on the inner wall of the tree. When nothing gave way he pushed harder, groping around for any type of hole, trapdoor, or lever that would assist him in opening it. After what seemed like hours of frantically searching for a way out, Alni slumped to the floor, frustrated and certain he’d be trapped until the Man in the Tree returned. Perhaps forever.

  Leaning his back against the wall, he racked his brain trying to remember what Silthia had done yesterday to open the door. His head softly rapped against the inside of the tree behind him, the rhythmic beat a small relief for his restless mind. Suddenly, the tree started to crumble away behind him and Alni fell backwards into the open woods. Standing up quickly, he looked around and dusted himself off, scrambling away from the tree as the opening closed behind him.

  He approached the tree slowly, one hand resting where the opening to the safe home had been just before, shielding his eyes as he looked up at the enormous branches stretching outward and upward.

  The dew on the ground and grass made the scene around him glossy and sparkling, a fresh day for him to start once again. The birds chirped their morning greetings to each other, branches of smaller trees swayed in the cool morning breeze. There were no large dragons about nor were there angry boys who wished to end his life. It was an improvement - one that he was not going to take for granted.

  Morning hunger hurried him along in search of the nearest village, his eyes on the map that had been left behind for him. The Nevina forests seemed to stretch on for an eternity, to the far west was Castle Mallor and the dragons, along with the largest trading city in Desin. That was the way he was interested in going. Alni was convinced that the many opportunities that the trading city of Glade had would ensure he could start a new life. It was where his parents had met and, from what he’d heard, despite it being close to the evil King, it was bountiful and full of life, brew, and coin. On the way to Glade there were a great many villages, but the next on Alni’s list was Vayhlbrook.

  It was a small village, but it would easily provide him with a place to stay while he planned out his next moves. Perhaps also providing some food and work for the time being.

  Alni needed to find work to feed his continuously growling stomach, or at least someone foolish enough to leave their stand unattended for a few moments. It wasn’t that he wished to be a thief, but he was more than willing to indulge the sin if it meant he’d borrow more time to become stable and safe. After that point, well, he had no idea how fast the word of what he had done would spread. No way of knowing what the boys had said once they had returned. For all he knew, a group of villagers hunted for him, certain he was using this magic to harm others intentionally.

  Or, more likely, they would forget he ever existed and move on. They had bigger things to worry about than one dead body and a half-breed orphan.

  Alni walked on, switching from his bare feet to leather sandals after about an hour of wandering through the forest. The floor had gone from soft and spongy to harsh and covered in nettles. It was a good sign, however, as it was clear that he was switching terrain and heading right towards Vayhlbrook.

  Not too long after he put on the sandals, Alni came upon a small trail. It was one clearly listed in the well-drawn map in his hands. Grabbing for his journal, Alni paused and compared the two before looking back to the scene around him. Tucking the map into his journal, he put them both away and continued on; not stopping until he saw the village stretched before him, nestled in the large trees of Nevina.

  It was clear the village had been celebrating New Fall’s Day, an annual festival held in honor of fall harvest. Long, autumn-colored banners trailed over fences, beckoning him closer to the village. Alni was thrilled that there was fun to be had, but had to remind himself he needed to find work and food before he needed to find an excuse to mingle and engage in the festivities. Approaching the village, he passed several farm houses, the smell of cattle something that could not be ignored.

  There was a small group of maidens that spoke quietly to each other, giggling as they strolled down the dirt street. Alni paused as they walked by, bowing his head and sweeping low to greet them. They blushed lightly before racing off to their destination, not quite returning his greeting as they whispered amongst each other and looked back at the stranger.

  Alni continued on to the center of the town, eyes scanning the area around him, soaking in every square inch of it. There were children running around a small well in the middle of the square, their laughter almost covering the yelling traders. Stores littered the side of the streets, merchants yelling wonders of their vegetables and meats. A horse passed by, nearly hitting Alni on its mission forward, driven by the man upon his back. There was a distinct smell of freshly cooked bread, mixed with the musty scent of old hay and manure on the streets.

  “Right here, this is the best bread in Vayhlbrook. Didn’t I help you out yesterday?”

  It was a common trick that Alni had long known how to bypass. When you could hear the traders, you most certainly could be convinced that what they were selling was not the only place you could get it, and it was not one-of-a-kind. Their false sense of friendship was one that Alni had tried to copy many times when he was younger, hoping that it was something he could one day master so that others would be unable to see past his guise. He would be a seller of something, even if that was simply himself.

  Alni stopped by several stores inquiring about possible work, but had no luck. An elderly lady referred him to a tavern down the lane with a point of her old, wrinkled finger, and he was quick to head in that direction.

  Alni finally arrived at the Magic Dragon’s Cheerful Pub, laughing to himself at the tavern’s name. The lettering was faded and old, the white paint chipped, exposing rotten wood beneath. It really was a wonder as to how the tavern continued to stand with such wear.

  In his experience, taverns weren’t the best place for finding good, honest people looking for help but it was better than nothing at all. Beggars couldn't be choosers and he was happy enough being that much further away from his previous home.

  Besides, what trouble could come from a pub with a name as such?

  It was surprisingly quiet inside with only a few others sitting at a corner table (chatting and playing cards) and a lone villager seated at the bar itself. Alni approached the bar, taking a seat on an old chair next to the villager. The man let out a burp and swayed precariously at the edge of his seat. The smell of his burp was foul and he leaned over his drink as though it was the only thing keeping him up.

  “Hello, friend. Tell me, anything special going on here lately?” Alni finally spoke up, smiling over to the drunkard as the bartender slowly approached.

  The drunk turned towards him, smiling a toothless grin as another burp escaped his foul lips. Alni scooted back in his chair, attempting to put some distance between himself and the rancid smelling breath of the man.

  “No’than goin’ on here. Why yer askin’?” The words were slurred and forced out, the bartender interrup
ting just a moment later.

  “Welcome, young man. What can I help you with?” The barkeep asked, hand lowering to grab for a glass beneath the counter, placing it on the wooden top as he leaned in, only to promptly take a few steps back when the scent of the man reached his nostrils, “O’ the magic of Desin, Marvin. That’s your last one.”

  “Looking for work, heard I should check in here first, then go gander at the board. Perhaps that’s something you can help me with?” Alni said, flashing the barkeep his best smile as he leaned forward on the counter.

  “Err, losh of people goes to a town close o’ here, says it got losh of food an work dere,” the drunkard piped up, swaying dangerously once more.

  Alni’s hand lashed out without another thought, pressing against the mid-back of the man to keep him upright. The barkeep gave him a small, thankful smile.

  “Cheaper food than here?” Alni inquired.

  The man nodded and belched loudly a final time before leaning towards Alni, the movement too fast for him to control, losing his strength and toppling towards Alni. What could he do but catch the odiferous man in his arms and help him to the floor, gagging at the stench of unwashed body and clothes. The weakness in his body from the beating the day before came back with the strain and he puffed out a pained breath of air as he finally rested the man upon the ground.

  He looked around at the other patrons of the tavern who didn’t even bat an eye their direction; this was a man they were used to, or at least a situation that did not surprise or concern them. Even the barkeep seemed to shrug it off, nodding his head towards the door.

  “He’s right, next town over would most certainly have work. But no harm in looking at the board in the town center. If you can’t find anything, come back in and talk to me.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Alni said then to the bartender, leaving the man in his drunken slumber on the floor.

  As he walked toward the tavern door, he spied a dry piece of bread on the table nearest the exit. Sneaking a peak around the room casually, his hand reached out and grabbed for the bread, pulling it against his body as he slipped back out into the town square.

  Alni passed through throngs of town folk, pushing and pulling each other along, bumping into him with every step. He finally arrived at the center of town and checked his pockets to make sure no light fingers had stolen from him. He was dismayed to find his only remaining coin was gone.

  Panic seized his chest and Alni grabbed for his bag. He searched inside and let out a breath of relief- the remainder of his belongings were right where he had left them. At least no one had bothered to drag the bag off while he was in the tavern or open it in the square. He may have been relieved of a mere coin, but he had at least that much worth in his stomach thanks to the bread he had snatched from the tavern.

  Alni searched for the board that had been pointed out to him, unable to catch sight of it right away through the heavy crowds. He extended a hand and stopped a man walking nearby, “Excuse me, sir. I’m looking for a board that has job offerings? Can you lead me to the village center? I swear it was just around here…”

  The man nodded, pointing behind Alni abruptly before heading back along his way with a huff and a fury, clearly in a hurry. Turning around, Alni’s eyes landed on the board, scarcely visible through the throngs of hurried villagers as they made their way to their homes and shops.

  As he made his way through the villagers towards the board, something smashed into his arm. A small, hooded man had run into him roughly, not even turning to acknowledge that he had made contact.

  “My apologies, sir,” Alni muttered, attempting to keep his balance as he sneered over to the hooded man hurrying off.

  The sarcasm dripped from each word as one hand moved to rub his arm where the stranger had hit him. Had it not already been so heavily bruised, the contact wouldn’t have bothered him so instantly.

  Finally, making his way over to the wooden board, his eyes caught sight of a large piece of parchment with a drawing upon it. There were other papers and information littering the board, but somehow Alni could not move his eyes from the girl’s face upon the paper.

  She certainly was not ugly. As far as Alni was concerned, she had the most intriguing face he had ever seen. The short, cropped hair that had been drawn seemed to frame her face perfectly, making her look innocent and small, but the snarl on her face curled up her lips and furrowed her brow. Long, elegant ears were pinned back against her hair like a feral cat as she seemed to stare straight at him. Either the artist was intent upon making her seem sinister, or the wanted woman had an attitude that stretched far beyond her innocent facial structure.

  He had to tear his eyes away to read the rest of the sign, scanning over the information before him.

  WANTED

  Name: Unknown

  Last scene: Swordstale Village

  100 gold coins if caught, dead or alive.

  Reason: Theft

  Race: Elf

  Dangerous and incredibly deceitful. Be sure to report any suspicious behavior to Vayhlbrook guards.

  Chapter Six

  Alni tore his eyes away from the wanted poster, searching the other posts on the board for anything that would help better his situation. He needed a place to stay that eve and the thought of spending it in the forest again did not appeal to him. Even after the comfortable and safe place he had been granted the night before, it was only a matter of time before his luck ran out.

  Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be any offer of work and, after a few more moments of searching, Alni made his way back to the tavern. He ventured inside and immediately the bartender caught sight of him, waving him over with a drink in hand.

  “Couldn’t find a thing, aye?” He inquired with a smile, sliding the glass of mead over to Alni with a practiced hand.

  “Not at all. Is there any way I can bother you for a night’s stay? I can offer some good, honest work. I…unfortunately cannot pay for that just yet,” Alni’s head nodded towards the mead on the counter before him.

  The bartender shrugged, extending a hand and nudging the drink closer to the young man. As Alni grabbed for the drink and took a swig with a soft “thanks”, the bartender seemed to mull over things for a moment. One hand rose to stroke at the shadow of a mustache on his face as his dark eyes looked over to the front door of the tavern.

  “Well, you seem to be a spirited young lad. Let me tell you something. We had a large group of folk come in this morning,” Alni nodded and the man continued.

  “Their beasts left a large mess in the barn out back and I haven’t the time to clean it. If you muck the stalls and groom my beasts, I will give you a room in the barn, along with dinner and breakfast in the morning. Now drink up, those bruises on your face have me feeling sorry for you. Take it with you to the barn,” he nodded a head towards the drink in Alni’s hand.

  “Thank you sir.”

  He was thankful the barkeep did not pry further and no names were exchanged between them. Alni bowed his head in another thanks and quietly made his way out of the tavern with the mead in hand.

  He waited until he had rounded the corner behind the tavern, and caught sight of the attached inn and the barns in the field below, before letting out a sigh of relief. Alni made it to the bottom of the hill, almost spilling the mead several times on the journey down. He was instantly met with the scent of manure in the fresh air and the sound of neighing horses. Deciding to wait a moment before entering, Alni took a seat on a bench near the corrals. Taking a deep drink of the mead once more, his face scrunched up in distaste- the bitter alcohol was not something he was accustomed to. But he was thankful for it nonetheless, finishing every drop before finally reaching into his pack.

  He touched the journal absentmindedly, hand reaching into a small, woven patch near the back. Inside, a small purple stone was wrapped in cloth. With a heavy sigh, he held the stone in his hands for several minutes while he watched the clouds cover the sun above him as they cast a shadow ov
er the farmlands.

  It almost felt like the stone was breathing, pulsing in his hands. Alni always wondered if it had a life of its own or if it only seemed to have one when he grasped it so firmly, surely his own heartbeat had to be the cause. Still, it gave him comfort to hold it and have it near. Now that he was safe he wanted it ever closer.

  Alni slipped the stone in his pocket and headed towards the barn, entering and surveying the situation at hand. It was a large, wooden structure with a dozen stalls and very little to no light. A stray chicken strutted past Alni and towards the far corner.

  There were four large horses sticking their massive heads out, nickering at him in curiosity. He walked up to an empty stall and peeked inside, his head pulling back just as quickly as it had entered. The stall was full of horse dung and rotten hay; clearly no one had cleaned in quite some time despite there being no horse within. It was a wonder the horses were in good shape, but he supposed the travelers didn’t stay there long enough for the horses to be harmed. Still, it was a pity for the pub’s resident beasts.

  Knowing he should have looked before promising all this work for just a night’s stay and some food, Alni sucked it up and pulled up his sleeves. He’d be able to wash up easily afterwards, using the spout outside before feeding the horses and giving them water. This was honest work and that was what he had asked for, hadn’t he? It was the least he could do after stealing from the bartender earlier that day.

  Alni grabbed a pitchfork that had been lying on the ground near the entrance to the barn and started towards the nearest stall, which he knew could not have been cleaned out for at least a fortnight, and the poor horses were a sorry sight. He felt bad for the beasts, but truthfully felt a little sorry for himself as well. Alni buried the pitchfork deep underneath a pile of rot, getting a full scoop of droppings and rotten hay; very quickly filling the wheelbarrow and making several trips outside of the barn.