Dark Humanity

by Gwynn White

  Both boys had been working hard to hone their forest talents. They had been practicing different skills each day for the past several weeks ahead of the coming trials.

  “Oh, yes, that’s right, target practice. Lake Morelle.” Joshua snapped out of his nightmare and was mostly himself again.

  “Well?” Andrew demanded eagerly. “What are you waiting for, an invitation? Let’s get going!”

  Joshua grabbed his keeper bag and weapon belt. The two of them crept through the window and out onto the roof.

  2

  Target Practice

  The two strode north into the forest and Joshua tried his best to put the nightmare out of his mind. He found the rustling of the trees comforting as the pair followed the well-trodden path, winding through the forest.

  Joshua was at home here in the woodlands of Morelle and felt at one with these familiar surroundings. The morning sun pierced through the treetops and glistened on the green leaves of the hanging vines dangling from the branches.

  Joshua held out his hand to the side as he walked. He liked the feel of morning dew on the leaves as he brushed past them. The forest was alive with a cacophony of noises. Two Chirvels squealed as they chased each other, leaping between branches.

  The two teenagers were about an hour into their walk before the trees began thinning out and the trail became brighter. By mid-morning they had reached their intended destination: Lake Morelle.

  Situated in a large clearing in the forest, the lake was a favoured hunting ground for the town’s young Woodsmen. The lake encircled a small island, stretching around it like a moat, with a single Yucust tree in its centre that reached high into the sky. Thick branches spread out on either side of the tree at regular intervals. The brightly coloured Finkle nests that hung beneath the branches on vines made for excellent target practice.

  The two friends scavenged for raw materials from which to make the ammunition they would use for today’s target practice. The thickets of Bramock that encircle the lake were a good source of materials and various types of projectiles. A good Bramock bush would fill their quivers with a fresh source of arrows and the bark from the straight twigs was stretchy enough to weave into slingshot elastic. Bramok berries were also just about the right size and weight to use in a slingshot.

  “Right, let’s see if you can hit the red one on the first branch on the left.” Andrew suggested.

  With a mocking smile, Joshua took his slingshot from his belt and placed a ripe Bramock berry into the pouch. He took aim and launched the hard berry high into the air, across the lake towards the Yucust.

  The two boys followed the trajectory of the berry all the way to the tree. It missed the target by a generous margin and landed with a splash.

  “You’ll never make Woodsman with an aim like that,” Andrew laughed. “Are you sure you don’t want to be a Tender instead? Or maybe even a Fixer?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with being a Fixer.” Joshua snapped. “Have you ever thought where we’d be without Fixers?”

  “I’m only kidding,” Andrew looked around for some more Bramock berries. He found a few deep inside the same thicket he had just been plucking arrows from and loaded his slingshot. Taking aim at the same Finkle nest, he pulled the slingshot pouch back towards his cheek. Just as he was about to release it, he noticed a Raetheon perched on one of the branches higher up.

  “Hey, A Raetheon!” he shouted, and readjusted his aim. “I bet you I can…”

  “NO!” Joshua yelled grabbing at Andrew’s extended arm just as he launched the berry. It changed his aim, and the berry flew into the lake with a splash. The Raetheon, jolted by this noise, extended its wings and leaned forward off the branch. With a shriek, it fell into a graceful glide and circled the lake.

  “Why were you aiming at the Raetheon? It never did anything to hurt you!”

  “What difference does it make? I didn’t see you complaining about shooting the Finkles.”

  “That’s not the same thing! Raetheons are majestic animals with real feelings. Why would you want to hurt one of them?” Joshua stared at the graceful bird, still circling in the distance under the violet sky.

  “What’s up with you?” Andrew asked. “You’ve been on edge for days now. You looked awful this morning when you woke up. You’re not still having those dreams, are you?”

  Joshua sighed and sat on the ground with his legs crossed. He looked down in deep thought. Andrew said nothing. Joshua knew his best friend was a good listener and would not pressure him into speaking until he was ready.

  It was quiet in the clearing. The only noise was the continued shrieking of the Raetheon fading into the distance. After a few moments Joshua took a deep breath.

  “I had another dream last night, about my father,” he said softly. “It was a much more powerful dream this time, unlike the others.”

  Andrew’s shoulders sank, and he sighed. The age of decision that a teenager like Joshua was nearing was normally a time in a young man’s life when he got much closer to his father. The trials they were preparing for were a way to strengthen the bond between father and son.

  “You’ve been thinking about your dad a lot, lately.”

  Joshua didn’t reply right away. When he did, he spoke quietly.

  “He’d be helping us both prepare for the trials if he were still here. You never knew your father. It’s different for you. You don’t have memories keeping you up at nights.”

  “What happened?”

  Joshua stared at the ground for a moment. “Someone was in great pain.” He looked Andrew in the eye and said, “I think it was my dad.”

  “But that’s not possible. I mean, your dad died when you were very young, didn’t he?”

  Joshua looked up and locked his gaze on Andrew.

  “I know you’re trying to help, but how do I know my dad really died? I mean, all we know is that he never came back.”

  Joshua looked back down at the ground and started to peel the shell from the Bramock berry he was toying with.

  “But what if he never actually died?” he asked, after a pause. “I mean, what if he’s still, you know…”

  He looked up and threw the peeled berry into the water and stared vacantly at the ripples making their way around the lake.

  “How is that possible?” Andrew asked. “Surely he would have come home after all these years if he was still alive.”

  Joshua paused as he pondered the various options he thought might explain his father’s continued absence. “He could have been held captive? Or maybe he hasn’t been able to find his way home?”

  Not even Joshua himself was convinced at these possibilities but he was sure there had to be an explanation other than that his father was dead. In many ways, it would have been much easier if he knew for certain his father had died, but the lack of certainty gnawed away at Joshua.

  “Why did he go that far away to begin with?” Andrew asked.

  “I don’t know. Mum doesn’t like to talk about it. Maybe I’ll ask. If I ever find him.”

  Joshua was sure it was his father’s suffering he had seen. The thought he might still be alive and, worse still, in great pain, continued to weigh heavily.

  Joshua had always just accepted that his father had died, but these dreams had gave him an ounce of hope to cling to that he might one day see him again.

  “I have to know,” Joshua said after another long pause. “I have to find out.”

  “What are you going to do? If you’re going to do the trials this year, there’s only a few weeks left.”

  Joshua didn’t respond right away. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but he knew it had to be something. After pondering the question for a few more moments, he stood up with a sense of purpose.

  “I’m going to find him. If there’s a chance he’s alive, then I have to find him. I can always do the trials next year. It’ll give me a chance to improve my aim anyway.”

  “But you don’t even know where to start looking.�
�� Andrew said, rising to his feet.

  Joshua gave Andrew a resigned look. He knew his best friend was right. He didn’t have any idea where to begin his search. Forestium was a big place and not without its dangers.

  “I know, I’ll talk to the Elder.” Joshua stated with wide eyes. “Maybe he will tell me more about what happened, and when and why my dad went off to fight. It’s as good a place as any to start.”

  With a renewed sense of purpose, the boys set off back towards Morelle.

  3

  Galleon

  Joshua was brimming with enthusiasm as he and Andrew walked back towards the village.

  “I’ve never seen you so excited.” Andrew said as the two of them chatted about how Joshua might go about finding his father.

  “I wonder what my dad looks like, now. I mean, do you think he’s changed a lot over the years?”

  “You really are convinced you’ll find him still alive, then?”

  “Why else would I see him in my dream? I bet it’ll make mum so proud to see us walking back to the village together.”

  “Do you think he’ll recognise you?”

  Joshua stopped and stared into nothingness for a few moments. He looked at Andrew and shrugged. The two boys debated the issue as they walked along the winding trail.

  They were about an hour outside of Morelle when they heard a rustle. They both froze. They looked at each other with lowered brows. There was the noise again, like someone or something was struggling. It was coming from just ahead of them but they couldn’t see much through the mist.

  As they continued, they saw what looked like an animal caught in a trapper’s net strung beneath the branch of a tree.

  “Is that a Wood-boar?” Andrew whispered.

  “Doesn’t look like Wood-boar to me.”

  “You’re right. That’s definitely not a Wood-boar. It looks more like…like…a man?”

  “If it is, it’s the tiniest man I’ve ever seen.”

  The small man lashed out, trying to escape from the all-encompassing net.

  They crept forward.

  “Hello?” Joshua called out, maintaining a safe distance.

  Whoever it was stopped flailing about and froze. The man’s head turned and peered at Joshua. He had deep green eyes and a small round face with large pointed ears sticking out from either side of his head.

  “Well?” he called out with a ringing tone of indignation. “Are you two blithering idiots just going to stand there? You are Woodsmen, right? Surely at least one of you has something in your keeper bag to get me out of this infernal contraption?”

  Joshua turned to his friend and saw a distrustful look in his eyes.

  “What are you doing stuck in that Wood-boar trap?” Andrew yelled. “Wood-boars might be difficult to catch, but only an idiot would get caught in a trap like this.”

  There was a brief pause before the man spoke again.

  “Oh, well, it’s just that it’s terribly comfortable here, and I thought I’d just hang around for a rest,” he said rolling his eyes. “You see, it’s been a long day, and I was tired and needed a place to relax. Get me out of the damned thing!”

  Joshua and Andrew looked at each other again and rolled their eyes. Joshua reached for his slingshot and loaded one of the Bramock-bush arrows into in. He aimed the arrow at the vine from which the net was dangling and released it. With a swish, it sliced through the vine and the net fell to the forest floor with a thud.

  “Ouch!”

  Joshua and Andrew scrambled to help the small man from the entangling net. When he stood free he was little more than half their size.

  He had a stocky build and a full head of untidy black hair. His light brown waistcoat was frayed at the edges and his long black leather boots reached up to his knees. He waddled around and brushed all the leaves from his clothing.

  “What are you?” Andrew asked, looking the strange creature up and down.

  “Isn’t it usually polite to ask someone’s name before you ask what kind of creature they are? Honestly! Don’t they teach manners anymore?”

  “Don’t mind him,” Joshua spoke up. “It’s just that we’ve never met anyone of your kind before.”

  “Ah,” the man said with a heavy sigh, looking at the ground. “I was hoping you weren’t going to say that.”

  He walked over to a nearby tree stump, sat down and removed one of his boots. Tipping it upside down, he emptied several small pebbles out of it.

  “I had hoped there would be others of my kind around these parts.” He rubbed his sore foot.

  “And just exactly what is your kind?” Andrew asked, walking around the short man and studying him closely.

  “I’m an Imp,” he replied. “You can call me Galleon.” He stared at Joshua. “Galleon the Great.”

  Andrew let out an involuntary snigger. Joshua nudged him in the ribs. He then walked over and extended a hand to Galleon.

  “I’m Joshua. This is Andrew, my best friend. Did you say you were an Imp?”

  Galleon looked Joshua up and down, shaking his hand.

  “That’s right, and you say you’ve never seen anyone like me before? Well, that’s a disappointment, but I can’t say I’m surprised. It’s been the same story everywhere I’ve been for years now.” Galleon sighed in a resigned tone.

  “I’ve been searching for others of my kind for a long time and to be honest, I’m starting to lose hope.”

  Joshua took his water sack from his belt and handed it to the stranger. Galleon regarded it before thanking him and taking several large gulps from it.

  “That’s better. Thank you,” he said handing it back and wiping his face with the sleeve of his tunic. “It’s not often I find anyone willing to be helpful or friendly towards me.”

  “Why not?” Joshua exclaimed with a puzzled expression.

  “Well, Joshua,” Galleon sighed, “that’s a very good question. If ever I have a good answer, I’ll let you know. As if it wasn’t bad enough that all the other Imps have been banished or killed or worse, I often have to put up with mistrust and loathing wherever I go. I mean really! Is my face that bad?”

  “What happened to your people?”

  “The Goat killed off all my people. I’m starting to think I’m the only one of my kind left.”

  “Um…the Goat?” Andrew asked with raised brow.

  “You’ve never heard of the Goat, my friend? Well, consider yourself lucky. You can think yourselves very fortunate indeed if you can live out your days without encountering the Goat.”

  Joshua didn’t know who or what this Goat was, but judging by Galleon’s face and tone, the Imp had a deep loathing for Him.

  “The Goat is the most malicious, evil and angry creature you could ever wish to meet,” Galleon complained. He shook his head and stared into nothingness.

  “He’s an all-powerful magical creature who will torture and torment you for the sheer pleasure of it.” Galleon frowned and his bottom lip quivered. He went on to explain in great detail how his kind had lived in peace for many years in the grasslands of the South before they encountered the Goat.

  “A Trader came through one day and brought with him some sort of mystical orb,” Galleon explained. “It was supposed to be one of several that exist throughout Forestium.”

  “I’ve never heard of any mystical orb things,” Andrew said narrowing his eyes.

  “Yes, well, I imagine I could fill several books with all the things a worldly Woodsman of your years has never heard of.”

  “Go on,” Joshua said, ignoring the indignant look on Andrew’s face.

  “Anyway, the orbs existed as mere legend until this one showed up, so you can imagine just how much of a stir it caused. Well, this Trader swore the orb had magical powers and that it could transport you to distant lands. He offered to trade it with the Imps.”

  “So you traded for the orb?” Andrew asked.

  “Well, not exactly. As it turned out, the poor man had an unhealthy appetite for the finer
things in life, especially wine, which he drank like there was no tomorrow. He was found slumped over the table one morning at an inn. Some say he died from drinking too much wine, but if you believe that, I have a Raetheon that lays golden eggs you can buy.”

  “You mean, he was killed?” Andrew said with his jaw open and wide eyes. Galleon nodded.

  “Anyway, when they looked into the orb, what they saw was not a distant land. It was the hideous image of the Goat peering back at them. He was an evil-looking half man, half creature with long, curved horns coming out the sides of his head. Anyway, one by one, all the Imps disappeared and before too long they had all vanished. Imps are gentle and kind creatures. We didn’t possess the power or magic to withstand the onslaught of the Goat.”

  “I’ve never heard of this Goat. Have you?” Joshua said, glancing at Andrew, who shook his head.

  “Well anyway,” Galleon continued, “it wasn’t known whether the Imps were all killed or just banished to a different realm. It happened so fast. Before anyone realised what was going on, the Imps had all but been wiped out.”

  Galleon shook his head and heaved a sigh. “Maybe some managed to find refuge in far-flung corners of Forestium. If any did, I haven’t found them yet and I’ve been travelling around for so long, I’ve seen Ashfer trees shoot up, grow old and die.”

  “How long has it been since you last saw another Imp?” Joshua asked with wide eyes and his mouth open.

  Galleon looked pensive for a moment before speaking. “Oh, getting on for ten years I think.”

  “That’s awful.”

  “It’s tragic.” Galleon finished putting his boot back on and stood up. “What’s awful is having been strung up in that infernal Wood-boar trap for the past six hours. If it weren’t for you boys strolling by, I’d still be hanging there.”

  “Six hours? You must be starving. You should come with us back to the village with us. I’m sure the Tenders there will take good care of you.”