by Licia Troisi
They walked through the quiet woods.
The sun filtered through the bare branches of the trees and projected spots of light onto the dry leaves of the forest floor. Nihal was still terrified, but every now and then her fear subsided as she noticed some detail of her surroundings. Then the shadows and rustling sounds that filled the woods would bring to mind the scary stories she’d heard, and her fears would return.
Nihal began to feel as if a thousand eyes were watching her, almost as if the leaves themselves were looking upon her with an evil gaze. Nihal turned her head at every sound as she walked uneasily right behind Soana. More than once she felt herself about to say that she had changed her mind—that nothing, not magic or anything else, was worth such a sacrifice. But, in the end, her pride was stronger than her fear.
They had been walking for a good hour when they reached a small round clearing. A spring gurgled clear water. In the middle of the clearing there was a sort of rough stone chair.
“Here we are,” said Soana.
Nihal looked around, her heart in her throat. “But what am I supposed to do?”
“Sit on the rock, free your mind of all worries, and think only about the life growing all around you. All of a sudden you’ll feel it flow through your body, and that will be the sign that you’ve reached communion with nature.” The sorceress turned, ready to set off along the path leading back home. “I’ll be back in two days.”
“Wait! And then what?” Nihal asked. It was a desperate attempt to hold Soana there a while longer.
“Then I’ll come and ask you to show me your power. That’s all. See you soon, Nihal.”
Nihal tried to call her again, her voice growing higher and more desperate, but the woods had already swallowed Soana. Nihal fell to her knees, so disheartened she burst into tears.
She was alone, and she was more scared than she had ever been in her entire life.
The bare trees looked like skeletons ready to attack her, the clearing a wooden prison. What if evil spirits came to torment her? Who would hear her screams in this immense solitude? She cried for almost an hour. Then, more from tiredness than anything else, she grew calmer.
A bird that had not yet migrated for the winter alighted near her and drank from the spring with rapid movements of its head. The scene took her mind away from her fears. Trying to make as little noise as possible, she reached for her knapsack and took out a bit of bread. She crumbled it and threw the pieces toward the bird, which looked to be a migratory wiffle. At first, it seemed frightened, but then it became convinced that there was no danger and enthusiastically devoured the crumbs.
Nihal put some crumbs on her hand and held it out to the bird. It looked at her suspiciously for a moment and then jumped onto her hand. Nihal thought that there couldn’t be as many evil spirits as people said if creatures like this lived in the woods. In any case, she couldn’t go back, because she didn’t know the way. She might as well try to get through the trial.
When the bird flew away, Nihal was alone once more. She settled onto the rock and set her sword down at her side, ready for whatever came her way.
She tried to concentrate, but she soon realized it wasn’t easy. Every time something rustled she jumped, her hand racing immediately for her weapon. Unfortunately, the Forest was full of creaking noises of all kinds. When Nihal closed her eyes, she was sure she heard furtive footsteps; the only way to regain her calm was to open her eyes again and look around. It was absolutely impossible to try to enter into contact with nature in such circumstances, because to Nihal the nature all around her felt like an enemy.
By lunchtime she was exhausted.
She tried to eat, but her stomach was tied up in knots.
She tried to sleep, because she felt incurably tired, but she couldn’t. Her fear was relentless.
In the end, she threw herself down upon the grass and looked at the sky above the clearing. She imagined she was a bird capable of flying away, far away, toward incredible adventures. Once again, tears began silently flowing down her face. She wished desperately for someone to talk to.
Warriors don’t cry, she told herself over and over again. Warriors aren’t afraid. The recitation calmed her.
She told herself she’d face the trial with courage.
She climbed back onto the rock and tried to concentrate. This time, things went better. She was now used to the creaking sounds and no longer took any notice of them. Gradually, she began to perceive nature’s spirit, but it was as if it were flowing along next to her without touching her.
When night began to fall, she realized she didn’t even know how to light a fire. Dark descended mercilessly and Nihal felt more and more forlorn. Desperate, she opened her eyes as wide as they would go, but the darkness fell around her with ever-increasing speed.
All of a sudden, Nihal heard a creaking noise that was different from the others. She strained her ears. Footsteps. She grabbed her sword and stood ready to attack.
“Who’s there?” she asked hesitantly.
No answer. The footsteps continued rhythmically.
“Who’s there?” Her voice was louder this time.
Silence.
Panic overcame her. “Who the hell is out there? Answer me!” Now she was yelling at the top of her lungs, and the footsteps were only meters away from her. “Answer me!”
“Be quiet, Nihal! It’s me!”
Sennar. It was his voice. Nihal tossed her sword to one side and threw herself at him, crying. She pounded his chest with her fists, but when she felt his arms around her, she hugged him back, sobbing uncontrollably, not caring that he was her most bitter enemy.
“Come on, don’t cry. I’m here now. It’s all over.”
The first thing Sennar did was light a fire. He looked for some dried branches, made a little pile of them, and rested his hand on top of it. First, there was an unusual glow and then, a few seconds later, a fire sputtering cheerfully in its place. Nihal’s tears had dried, but she was still sobbing, her knees clutched tight to her chest.
“I didn’t tell Soana I was coming. I didn’t think she’d approve.” Sennar chuckled. “I know how much the Forest frightens people from the Land of the Wind, so I figured you would be terrified. I’m sorry I scared you. I didn’t mean to.”
Nihal sniffled. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. A guy’s got to take care of his enemies.”
Nihal smiled. She was happy not to be alone anymore. The crackling fire made her feel safer and the clearing felt more welcoming.
Sennar set himself to preparing dinner. “There’s no reason to be afraid, Nihal. Believe me, there’s nothing wicked in nature. There aren’t any evil spirits or monsters. Only humans can be evil. Nature will be your enemy for as long as you think of it as one. When you stop fearing it, it will welcome you with open arms. That’s the secret of the trial.”
He gave her a piece of roasted meat. It was delicious.
The food and the fact that she no longer felt as if she were in danger helped dispel some of Nihal’s hostility toward Sennar. “Did you go through the trial, too?”
“No,” Sennar answered with his mouth full. “It wasn’t necessary.”
“Why not? Why did you decide to become a magician? You’re such a mystery.”
“You want to hear my story,” he said shrewdly.
Nihal nodded.
“The last thing anything can say about me is that my life has been boring. I’ve been through a lot and moved around quite a bit.” Sennar crossed his legs. “As you already know, I was born in the Land of the Sea and lived for a long time on a battlefield. My father was the squire to a Dragon Knight, and my mother was the only woman in the detachment.”
“A woman warrior!” Nihal’s eyes gleamed.
Sennar laughed. “No, just a woman in love. She met my father because they lived in the same village. When he decided to become a squire, she followed him. And so, from the time I was a small child, there were weapons all around me. Kind o
f like you.” He stretched out on the grass. It was a clear night. The stars sparkled. “Have you ever seen a sea dragon?”
Nihal shook her head.
“They’re the most incredible creatures you can imagine. They’re like snakes, with deep-blue scales that change in the light until they look almost green. And they fly. They’re amazing.”
He looked up at the sky, as if dragons were flying across it in precisely that moment.
“Anyway, I love dragons. I’ve been able to speak with them since I was a child. Everyone thinks only Dragon Knights can talk with dragons, but I can, too. And I played with their pups. I could communicate with all kinds of animals. When I was eight years old, Soana came through our camp. Do you know she’s a member of the Council of Sorcerers? It leads the resistance against the Tyrant. The Tyrant’s been at war with the Land of the Sea, the Land of the Water, and the Land of the Sun for almost forty years. …”
“Of course I know that! What do you think?” Nihal said, feeling insulted.
“Touchy, touchy!” teased Sennar. “Anyway, Soana noticed me and asked to speak to my parents. She told them that I displayed a great aptitude for magic and that if they would let me go with her, she’d help me become a very powerful sorcerer. It wasn’t an easy decision for my parents, but in the end they let me go. A battlefield isn’t the best place for a little kid. All I’d seen my whole life long were weapons, dead bodies, wounded soldiers, and misery. I didn’t like the idea of going with Soana at first. But that changed after I got a taste of peace here in the Land of the Wind. I missed my father, my mother, my sister Kala … but I was happy not to see men dying around me like flies anymore. When I turned ten, Soana gave me a choice: I could either stay with her and continue my training, or I could go back home and forget about magic.”
“And you stayed.”
“Actually, I asked her if I could go back to the Land of the Sea to see my family before deciding.” Sennar paused and took a deep breath. “What I found was terrible. My father’s regiment had been annihilated; almost everyone I knew was dead. They told me my father had taken a hit for Tarel, the Dragon Knight he served, and saved his life.”
Sennar stopped once again. Nihal looked at him, speechless.
“I cried until I couldn’t cry anymore. People tried to console me by telling me I was the son of a hero, but what did I care? My father was dead. I’d never see him again.” His voice cracked. “In the end, I decided that I’d go back to Soana to learn magic, and that once I became a sorcerer, I’d put my power in the service of peace and fight against the Tyrant—for my father and for all the innocent victims of this war. Now do you understand why I wanted to teach you a lesson? War isn’t a game. It’s death, and peace is the only way to set things right.”
Nihal looked at Sennar with admiration. All of a sudden this boy struck her as strong, mature, and wise, like a real warrior.
“You didn’t expect that, did you?” Sennar winked. “You thought I was some random blockhead, and instead it turns out I’m a man of experience, with a sad story behind me.”
They both laughed.
“And what about you? Tell me why you want to be a warrior.”
Nihal threw herself down on the grass beside Sennar. Above her the sky was unfurling the entire design of the stars.
“I want to be a warrior because I want to have lots of adventures. I want to travel around the world, meet new people, discover other cultures. And I like to fight. When I’m holding a weapon I feel safe from everything. I feel strong. When I’m fighting, I feel light as air. I feel free. I don’t know who I’ll fight for, but I know that peace is good for everyone, so maybe I’ll fight for peace. And I want to be a warrior for Livon. He’s everything to me—father, mother, brother.”
Sennar sat up again and looked at Nihal affectionately. “I’ll stay here with you tonight so you can sleep, but tomorrow morning I have to go. After all, you’re here to undergo a trial. Try to sleep now. Tomorrow will be a tiring day.”
Nihal followed Sennar’s advice and lay down on the cloak he had prepared for her. She felt incredibly at ease.
Before she fell asleep, she thanked Sennar once more, but she was already sleeping when he said, “We’re alone in this world; the only way we can get ahead is if we help each other. Sleep well, Nihal.” He pulled the covers up around her shoulders.
5
DREAMS, VISIONS, AND SWORDS
She was in a land she’d never seen before, of this she was certain, even though it felt like home. She was in a big city, moving confidently through its thousands of streets. An enormous number of people, a constant coming and going, the disordered hum of voices and sounds. Although she was surrounded by a multitude of people, she couldn’t make out a single face. Maybe she was with someone.
At the end of a broad street, a crystal tower glittered blindingly in the morning sun. It was tall and incredibly white; it seemed to touch the sky.
All of a sudden the people around her began to scream.
An immense dark stain spread over the pavement. It looked like ink. She looked again and saw it was blood. Vermilion, dense, sticky. The blood covered everything, painting the landscape and the tower.
An abyss opened below her feet. She was falling. She yelled with all her breath.
She plummeted toward the bottom, but she knew there was no bottom and that the fall would be eternal. As she fell, cries and yells and the heartrending weeping of children echoed through her head. Avenge us! Vindicate our people! She didn’t want to listen, but the voices would not let up. They tormented her. Kill him! Destroy that monster!
And then the vision of death dissolved as quickly as it had come.
Nihal was flying on the wings of a dragon. The wind caressed her face and she felt free. She was wearing black armor and her hair was very short. Sennar sat behind her. She felt as if she had found him again after a long time, and she was happy.
The image dissolved into blinding white.
Nihal blinked. It was morning, another beautiful sunny day, and she was still in the little clearing. So she had been dreaming. But who were those people? What happened to them? And why had she been riding a dragon? With Sennar, of all things! Maybe she was asking herself too many questions. After all, it was just a dream.
She stretched and sat up and stopped short midway through a noisy yawn that left her breathless. The clearing was full of creatures not much bigger than a hand, their hair a thousand different colors. They fluttered around her, flapping their delicate iridescent wings.
Nihal couldn’t believe her eyes. I’m still dreaming, she thought, and blinked her eyes again and again.
One of the little beings positioned himself right in front of her for a moment and studied her with his blue, pupilless eyes. Then he moved beyond her reach. “Are you a human?” he asked.
It took Nihal a moment to respond. “Yes, of course I am.”
“That’s odd. I certainly didn’t remember humans as having big ears like ours!”
“To me, she looks just like a …” volunteered another. “You know what I mean, don’t you?”
“Impossible! There aren’t any left,” said another.
A third one joined in. “That’s right. The Tyrant …”
“Silence!” yelled the one in front of Nihal, and they all obeyed. “Maybe she’s really a human. There are lots of strange humans in the Land of the Wind.”
Nihal had partly recovered from her amazement. “Who are you and all the rest of these … thingies, like you? What are you doing here?”
The creature looked a bit peeved. “Young lady, I’d beg you to choose your words with more care. We are not ‘thingies.’ We are wood sprites. My name is Phos, and I am the head of the wood sprite community of the Forest. We live here. And what about you? Weren’t you humans supposed to be afraid of the Forest?”
“My name is Nihal; I come from Salazar. I’m here because I want to become a sorceress. I have to undergo a trial.”
“Ahh,”
said Phos, with the air of someone who had just understood everything. “You’re one of Soana’s.”
A general murmur of approval rose up from the assembled sprites.
“That means you’re a friend. Soana’s a good human. I have to confess that when we first saw you, we were scared. Not to mention all that racket you made last night!”
With a little pirouette, Phos fluttered closer to Nihal’s ear. “Many of us are survivors of the Tyrant’s persecutions and no longer trust a soul.”
Nihal was beginning to like this funny little creature who acted as if he’d known her forever. “Listen, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. I have some food with me. Why don’t you and your friends have breakfast with me?”
Phos and his friends accepted right away. The clearing filled with little voices and laughter. The wood sprites were fluttering all around. Many stopped to give Nihal elaborate thanks. Nihal helped Phos to a cozy seat on her knee.
“So, you’re the head of all the wood sprites.”
“Not precisely. I am not the head of all wood sprites, only of the ones who reside in the Forest. You know, our community is the biggest one in the Overworld. Nowadays, the forests are disappearing as fast as the eye can see, which means death or flight for our kind.”
“But why? Can you only live in the woods?”
“Are you kidding? We are the woods! A sprite without a forest is like a fish out of water. Some of our kind have tried to live in other places, even with humans, but they’ve gradually shriveled up—that’s the best way to put it—and died. We can’t survive if we don’t have woods to look at and the smell of trees to breathe. What could be more beautiful than a forest? In the winter you can play hide-and-seek among the branches and sing lullabies to hibernating animals. In the summer the leaves provide shade and you can play in the rain!”
“The Forest looks perfectly healthy to me,” said Nihal.
Phos’s eyes became sad and his ears flopped over like a beaten dog’s. “The Tyrant destroys the woods in the lands he conquers in order to produce weapons. And his lackeys, those wretched Fammin, hate us. They’ve captured many of our kind and forced them to become their jesters. It’s a sad end, you know? We’re free as the air. All we want is a green place to live.”
