No Man's Land

by C D Beaudin

  “How are you doing?”

  He looks up when he hears the soft voice, the leader of the Kawa approaching. Kera smiles at him softly, black hair done up and dressed in garb much like those of the Tanea. Some stories say the Tanea were sculpted in the image of the Kawa, but others say the Kawa were carved out of bronze while the Tanea were carved out of gold. Hagard isn’t sure which story he believes.

  “He can’t die.”

  Kera puts a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. He may pull through, but…” her voice trails off, not wanting to finish.

  “I know it’s a long shot…” He rubs his eyes. “Ugh. I’m tired.” Shaking his head, as if to wake himself up. He lets out a long breath. “Is Eldorian de only healer?”

  “No, but the other is on the mountaintop.”

  Hagard looks up at her. “Who would go up on a mountain wit’ winter eternal?”

  “She’s…” Kera sighs. “I don’t know. She’s an elf.”

  “Well, dat explains it.” Hagard isn’t being sarcastic. Elves annoy him, with their super senses, enhanced speed and strength. Dwarves are basically short humans but crafted by a different hand. “I’d apologize for what happened all dose months ago—”

  “But you weren’t here. So, don’t apologize. Out of the group, you’re the most tolerable.”

  “Maybe now.” He crosses his arms. “You wouldn’t believe what dey’re like now.”

  “Aradon and Eldowyn seemed no different when you came through on your way to Rohea.”

  “You barely said a word to dem. Dey were lepers to you.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “I understand. I’m not judging. Just…don’t be angry at dose who don’t deserve to be angered at.” He bites his own tongue. Aradon deserves everything he’s gotten. It pains him to think it, but he does. He’s his—was, his friend. “Eldowyn didn’t do anyting to you. He was de victim.”

  “They didn’t have to come to my valley. They could have sought haven elsewhere, the Tanea. Or even beyond Arneth.”

  “Beyond Arnet de countries are hostile and warring.”

  “And how do you know this?”

  “Why are you so argumentative?” Hagard spits.

  Kera’s eyes narrow with hurt, causing Hagard to look elsewhere.

  “I’m sorry. I’m just tired. Hungry.” He groans. “I need a drink.”

  “Have one.”

  Hagard glares at her but wonders why he stopped in the first place. He could have brought a flask on the hunting trips. Forgetting all that he could. His past would have been drunk enough to not remember him too. His family would forget how he left them.

  Without another word to Kera, he walks to his room. Shutting the door behind him, he looks at the plain guest room. He doesn’t need much. What is he doing here? He’s so tired…

  Falling onto the bed, it only takes him a moment to drift off into sleep, but it is far from empty.

  The Amberhill’s thirtieth wedding anniversary brought twangy singing, flutes, fiddles, bodhráin, and bouzoukia, creating joyful music. Dwarves danced and sang in a line outside, faces smiling, and bellies filled with good food and fine ale. No trace of the earlier squabble in the Lazy Bear remained, much to Hagard’s relief, though, Mr. Damberridge gave them a bit of a stink eye, so something must have been out of place after they’d cleaned up.

  Hagard watched as Domeam and Lotmock helplessly tried to talk with a few older girls. Young as they were, their cute faces got a lot of attention, but not the kind they wanted. Girls thought they were adorable, in a little boy, kind of way. They had baby faces. Not handsome. Cute. Hagard learned the difference when he tried to get Hollie Durnam to go out on a date with him when he was seven. She pinched his cheeks and said when he was a little older. It was a kindness he wasn’t quick to forgive as he had pined for her for years after, but Ava washed her away. Hollie had since married.

  Sitting with Nalden, Hagard watched Ava from across the room, seeing her laugh with her group of friends, one of which Nalden was smitten with.

  “Genevieve is so pretty.” He swooned, chin only inches from being submerged in his mug. The lass he talked of was only outshined by Ava, her long black hair reached her waist, her skin darker than most. Her family was a diverse group, her mother half-dwarf, half-Arnethi, while her father was half-dwarf, half-Rohidian. Worked in the mines all his life.

  “Den go talk to her.”

  “Are you crazy? Talking to a girl like dat…” He took a drink. “I’m not lookin’ to embarrass myself.”

  “But you do already, so what will dis change?”

  Nalden glared at him.

  Hagard chuckled, taking a swig of his drink. “I’ll talk to Ava if you talk to Genevieve.”

  Nalden rolled his eyes. “What are we, twelve?”

  “Only when we’re drinkin’.” Hagard winked and put his mug down. “Watch and learn, Snurrel.”

  “Don’t call me dat!”

  “Can’t hear ya, too far away!” Hagard called back as he made his way to the other side of the tavern. Looking out a window, he could see the rest of the party outside. He’d try a hand at dancing, but he wasn’t about to embarrass himself in front of Ava. Though, he’d always embarrassed himself in front of this lass.

  “Ava.” His voice was too loud.

  She looked at him, a drink in her hand, her friends giggling. “Hagard, hello.”

  “I, uh…” He looked back at Nalden, who had his sarcastic thumbs up. He shouldn’t have done this. “Do you want a drink?”

  “I already have one.” She lifted up her blue mug.

  “Aye, ya do.” He took a deep breath, summoning the courage. “Would you like ta dan—”

  “Hagard!”

  He whirled around at the all too familiar shout and was petrified when he saw his father standing in the doorway of the tavern, papers in his hand. Hagard’s eyes widened. De army forms.

  “Papa, hello.” Hagard prayed he didn’t say anything here, but he’d already yelled his name across the entire tavern, so his hopes weren’t up. Barnel Branchin approached him, boots stomping on the floor and eyes angry.

  “What are you doing, boy? What is dis?” He shoved the paper in Hagard’s face, and he could feel his cheeks grow red.

  “Papa, not here, please.”

  “I don’t care! You are not joining da army!”

  “Papa, I’m seventeen. I can do what I want, you’re no longer my guardian.”

  “You live under my roof, you live by my rules. I will not have my son going to de capital and join an army dat would sooner stone him for his height.” His voice lowered then, and Hagard knew, at last, he would finally get the reason why his father opposed his leaving so much.

  “I was like you, once. Young and foolish. I wanted to do someting good, so I set out for Resodan and I signed up ta become a soldier. But I found bloodshed before I ever stepped foot on a battlefield.”

  “You never fought a battle in your life.”

  “Because I was in wit’ a physician. Barely holding on to life. Dose men beat me, trew rocks at me. I nearly died because I’m a dwarf, and men in Resodan don’t take kindly to dwarves, lad.”

  Hagard thought back on the fight earlier today, with those men. They called them dirt-crawlers. He never thought his height much of a problem, but he was told early on that dwarves—at least in Eron—were often discriminated against by humans. Hagard huffed, storming out of the tavern. His father followed. Behind the tavern, Hagard let his anger out, no one to witness it.

  “Papa, you can’t control me forever. You don’t want to protect me. You want to hold me back, so dat I’ll take over your smity. But I don’t want dis life. I don’t want to be here. Dis town feels like it’s crushing me. I hide it well, wit’ me bouncing down de street wit’ my friends and pining for Ava, but I can’t any longer. Even if she was interested, I wouldn’t change my mind. I want to leave. I want to do someting dat’s wort’ someting. I can do good, Papa. And more importantly, I c
an take care of myself.”

  “No, you can’t.” His father’s eyes were worried, no longer angry. “You can’t beat dem, Hagard. I’ve taught you and your broters dat dwarves are no less den man. But we are. We aren’t as strong, nor as fast. I tried to run, but dey caught me and tied me up in a tree. I tried to punch dem, but dey broke my arm. When I finally escaped, I was hunted by de army for leaving. A coward, dey called me. Luckily men don’t travel trew Lauden if dey don’t have to, so I was safe at last. I haven’t left, afraid dat dey’ll find me, even all dese years past.” He put a hand on Hagard’s shoulder. “Hagard, son, please don’t leave.”

  “You can’t do dis to me, Papa. I will prove dat I’m more dan a dwarf. Dat I’m wort’ more dan being laughed at by de longlegs. I will prove you wrong, and you’ll tank me for it.” Hagard turned to leave, unsure where he was going to go, but his father’s hand caught his.

  “You leave now, and you are no longer my son!”

  Hagard didn’t look back, tears in his eyes. “Den call me a stranger.”

  A knock at the door awakens Hagard, and he couldn’t be more thankful. Hopping out of bed, he smooths the ruffles in his shirt, grabbing his jacket. He hasn’t bothered to wear scales anymore, they’re just money he doesn’t have.

  “Hello?” Hagard looks at the face as he opens the door, a guard, he thinks, dressed in red.

  “Mr. Branchin, Lord Eldorian wishes to see you.”

  “T’ank you.” The guard leaves and Hagard buttons up his jacket, shutting the door behind him as he makes his way to Alfie’s room. Walking down the hallway, his attention is caught by a bright, green light coming from the crack under a door. Curious, Hagard goes to the door, pressing his ear to it. He can hear distressed breathing. Creaking the door open, his eyes widen when he sees a woman approaching from a long corridor. She gasps, and the light disappears. They stand there, face to face. He doesn’t recognize her. She has long, light blonde hair, fair skin, and blue eyes. An elf, that’s clear.

  “What’s going on here?” he asks, wondering why she would be entering the Great Hall by a secret, dark corridor. “Who are you?”

  Her eyes are tired and a bit chaotic. “None of your business.” She shoves past him, holding something under her white robes. He sees her flushed face and watches as she hurriedly enters a room and slams the door. Probably locked it.

  “Good talk?” Hagard’s brow furrows, and he turns back on his route to Alfie’s room. Curious. What was dat green glow? He sighs when he turns the corner, seeing Eldorian talking with Kera outside Alfie’s door. Hurrying over to them, he’s hoping for good news. He needs to hear something good.

  “Kera, Lord Eldorian. Tell me. Is he alive?”

  Eldorian’s eyes lower, and Hagard can feel his own heart sink. “Oh. I see.” He swallows, shaking his head. “Did ya kill him?”

  “It was the only way to ensure he wouldn’t become a Dalorin.”

  Hagard nods, biting his tongue. “Aye, right.” He looks away, fighting back tears because of his failings. He didn’t save him. His chest feels tight, the world feels bigger. He’s just an ant about to be stepped on, the sky darkened by a boot. He looks up at Kera. “I’ll have dat drink now.”

  The next few hours are a blur.

  Screaming in laughter. Shoulder hugging some stranger. Loud music, dancing. Too much dancing. He kissed someone. He wasn’t sure who, might not have even been a girl. He could have kissed a tree for all he knows. His lips taste a little fishy, though, as he drunkenly walks through the hallway, trying to decipher the code of doors to unlock the location of his own. His hand touches a smooth object, but he doesn’t remember what it’s called. It’s metallic. I pull it toward me, right? Hagard sneezes.

  Maybe I’m going de wrong way? He turns around, but he falls in the same direction he was going. Let’s try dis way. Wait, no. It looks de same. He sneezes again, coughing, hiccupping. Hagard sighs, the familiar feeling of being drunk not as welcoming as he wanted it to be, but it makes him forget whatever he was supposed to forget. Or, did he forget to forget?

  His vision blackens, and his hands stretch out, trying to find a wall or a door or even a bed. There are beds in hallways, right? Somehow, he enters a door, but his vision goes even blacker, and pain jolts through him when he feels himself tumble down what is either a mountain of corpses or stairs—he isn’t sure which one he’d prefer at the moment. Stairs mean he’s falling. Corpses mean he’s dreaming or dying…corpses.

  When he finally hits rock bottom, he realizes it isn’t just figurative. He’s literally hit rock bottom. Opening his eyes, he feels drowsy, his head hurts and—

  Hagard vomits, a sound that pounds against his brain. He groans, rolling over onto his back, no strength to stand or sit up. He opens his eyes, looking up at the ceiling, and is surprised and yet calmed to see a peaceful blue-green glow. Sitting up, his stomach aches. Twisting to see where the blue is coming from, his eyes widen when he sees a pool of glowing blue water, and levitating above it, an illuminated green orb. Beside it, the elven girl he saw in the corridor.

  Oh. He fell down the corridor.

  “You followed me,” she says, voice carrying far beyond the limits of a normal elf, the pool is still too far. She doesn’t look at him.

  “Not on purpose.” He gags, stomach ill.

  “Does it really matter?”

  “I’m too drunk to care.”

  “You dwarves are all the same. Drinking until you can’t see straight.”

  Hagard rolls his eyes, but immediately regrets it when his head pounds. “Uh, yeah, well it’s fun.”

  “Is that why you do it?” She looks at him now, as if actually curious to know his answer. The green orb stays in place as she approaches him. “Why is it that you drink, Hagard?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Yes, I’m sorry about that. I’ve been working myself very hard.”

  “For what?”

  She softly smiles. “Just trying to save someone I love.”

  “You have a husband or child or someting?”

  “Child. Children.” Her eyes avert from his. “They need to be saved, and I’ve found a way to…well, maybe I can make it up to them with this.”

  Maybe it’s the alcohol, but Hagard has one name in his mind and one name only. “You’re Raea.”

  She looks at him, confused. “How did you—”

  “You want to make it up to your children. Eldowyn and Adriel are really mad at you. Don’t know about Kepp. Awyn’s…indifferent, I suppose. And you look exactly like Raea, except wit’ darker hair and blue eyes.”

  “Uh. Yes. I’m Raea.”

  “Hey, I have a question.”

  “Yes?”

  “Is your last name Starborn or is it Rowan’s, because I’ve never been clear on dat.”

  Now her confusion has heightened. “My last name, the royal name is carried on, no matter if it’s a male or female on the throne.”

  “All right.” Hagard stands, but nearly falls over. “Oh, de world spins.” He swallows, bulging his eyes as if the drunk will seep out of them. It doesn’t. “Dat’s a Pool of Light?” He points.

  Raea glances back. “Yes, it is.”

  “And what is dat glowing green circle?”

  “Sphere.”

  “Whatever.”

  She exhales. “It’s an Orthryn. Created by the Aia. The most famous one is the Eye of Aiocille, but this one is the Eye of Raea.”

  “Are dey named after de person who holds it or someting?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “Uh, if this helps jog your memory, its true name is the Eye of Resurrection.”

  Hagard nearly falls over. “Dat’s been lost since da First Age.”

  “It’s been found.”

  Hagard approaches, staggering in his steps but he counts it as a win since he doesn’t fall. “Are you trying to…resurrect someone?”

  “Trying is a weak word. I’m killing myself.”


  He looks up at her. “Not really, right?”

  She shrugs, head tilted. “I’m not quite sure yet.”

  “You don’t know if yer killing yourself?”

  She glares down at him, and he quickly shuts up. He watches as the orb glows intensely, filling the cavern—he’s just realized it’s a cavern—with an emerald, more vibrant and more beautiful than the palace in Rohea.

  “Who are you trying to resurrect?”

  “Dalorin.”

  “Dat means not’ing to me, you’ll have to be more specific.”

  “Who I am trying to resurrect won’t mean anything to you either.”

  “Cold.”

  “Will you be quiet? I need to concentrate.”

  “Fine.” Hagard plops down onto the ground, and watches. Raea puts her hands up, intently staring at the orb. A wind picks up, an unnatural wind that shouldn’t be there, this being underground and all. Hagard covers his eyes as light cracks through the orb, green lightning. The Light Pool swirls, a whirlpool. The floor becomes so hot it turns red.

  Hagard jumps to his feet and rushes to find something he can stand on. He decides on a rock and hops onto it, but suddenly feels very cold. A yelling fills his ears, his brain feels like it turns to dust as he looks at Raea, who shines a brilliant white, screaming in what he isn’t sure is pain or power. It could be both. Hagard watches in both fear and wonder as the blue water rises, forming incomprehensible shapes. It takes a moment for both his eyes and the forms to sharpen, but he sees under all the light, wind, and glowing, two forms—humanoid shapes.

  Who are dey? The water turns black, the wind picking up. Dalorin screams fill the air and Raea is thrown from where she stands, hitting the cavern wall. Hagard rushes to her, noticing the floor is cooled off. “Raea, are you all right?”

  “Did it work?” she asks as the wind dies down, and the screaming stops.

  Hagard looks over at the pool. It’s blue again, no whirlpool.