by Rex Foote
Esme considered a reply, discarded it, considered another, and discarded that one as well before settling on, “I know you both are only trying to help. Thank you.”
Both gave warm, encouraging looks before her father began to serve up dinner, ensuring that Esme’s portion was about one and a half times larger than the others. As they all started to eat and her parents started talking the idle talk of dinner tables the kingdom over, Esme found her thoughts wandering once more. She wondered what Hark was doing right now, which then led her into wondering what her life would have been like if she’d been an Elreni growing up in the Kuddin Woods. They knew no dusty books or enclosing walls; instead they had the woods, their kin, and rest of the kingdom spread out before them, just waiting to be explored.
Chapter Two
27th Day of Axnera. The Season of Dawn. Year 250
The midmorning sun radiated warmth down on the small meadow. It was the Season of Dawn, and every plant in the clearing was bursting with new, fresh life. A small stream cut its way through the meadow and pooled near its centre, forming a lily-covered pool that the local wildlife would often come to drink from. In one of the many surrounding trees that had a clear view of the glade, a pair of hunters sat perched high up in the tree looking down; they had been there since just after dawn, and the rough bark of branch and trunk was biting into their backsides with slowly increasing intensity. Shuffling about on the branch, one of the hunters, a short, squat, bald man, nudged the other and said, “How much longer do you think he can keep it up?”
Turning to look at his companion, the other hunter, a tall, lean fellow with a rat-like face, scratched at his jaw and replied, “Dunno. He ain’t human, so only Tuemis himself would know.”
At the mention of the God of Nature and Patron of Hunters, the squat hunter made a sign with his left hand and then turned his gaze back to the meadow. He was about to say something else to his companion when the other grasped his arm tightly, gestured at the meadow, and hissed, “Look!”
A fully-grown stag had wandered into the clearing and was making its way towards the pond. Both the hunters remained utterly still as it approached; even their breathing slowed, as if the animal would hear them. As the beast reached the edge of the pond, they both subconsciously held their breaths and waited. The animal paused and sniffed the air as if something wasn’t quite right. Then suddenly, a shape lunged out from among the lilies, one weed-covered arm held high overhead, a hunting knife clasped in its hand. The stag had begun to turn and flee when its attacker brought the blade down into the side of the animal’s neck, and then proceeded to rip the weapon downwards, and it exited with a spray of blood and meat. The force of the attack brought the animal to its knees, where it promptly collapsed onto the ground, eyes rolled backwards into its skull in shock. The figure then stood over the fatally wounded animal.
With a glance towards each other, the hunters shuffled along to the tree’s truck and quickly descended, dropping the last few feet and hurrying over to the dead animal and its killer, now revealed to be a young Elreni male. As they neared, he knelt and killed the stag with a thrust of his blade up under its ribs and into its heart. Wiping his blade on the animal’s fur, the Elreni straightened to his full height, a lofty six feet. His pine-brown skin glistened in morning sun while his amber eyes peered out from his finely sculpted youthful features, taking stock of the pair of hunters. The long black hair plastered to his head further emphasised the narrow, pointed tips of his ears. As they reached him, his face split into a wide grin.
“How did I do?” he asked.
“That was…” The squat hunter trailed off.
“Why didn’t you shoot him?” asked the other.
“Because,” replied the Elreni as he turned and walked to a spot near the meadow’s edge, “I can hunt with more than just a bow.”
“Show-off,” snorted the lean hunter.
“But he is right,” the other countered. “He got that stag without it even knowing he was there.”
The Elreni, now pulling his clothes out from a spot near the base of a nearby tree, replied, “That’s right, it never knew. You two wanted to see an Elreni hunt. Well, now you have.”
The squat hunter nodded vigorously, apparently satisfied with the Elreni’s performance. The lean hunter was not quite so convinced.
“I don’t know,” he said, glancing down at the stag. “Just before you struck, it looked like it was onto you.”
Now dressed in the simple, practical garb of a hunter, the Elreni merely shrugged.
“So you say. But I would like to see one of your kind have the patience to wait for hours in some lily-infested pond, waiting for just the right moment to strike. Your people don’t have that kind of will; only we Elreni would ever try something like that.“
He shouldered his bow and quiver, returned to the side of his kill and retrieved and sheathed his knife before turning to walk away. As he left, the squat hunter said, “Hey, you haven’t told us your name yet. And what are you going to do with this?” he asked, gesturing to the stag.
As he walked away, the Elreni replied over his shoulder, “Hark. My name is Hark. And you can keep the animal.”
After he left, the squat hunter elbowed the other in the ribs.
“See? I told you when we met him that we should take him up on his offer to watch him hunt. When are we ever going to see something like that again?”
The other shot a glare in the direction the Elreni had gone and spat on the ground before saying, “Bloody Elreni, think they’re something special. Come on, let’s get this back to camp.”
***
Hark whistled to himself as he entered through Caladaria’s western gate. The city was built in the crater of a squat, extinct volcano, and all its gates effectively tunneled through that crater’s natural wall. As he exited into the city proper, his thoughts turned to the morning’s activities. He had startled the pair of humans when he had stepped out of what they had assumed to be a tall bush in the forest, almost causing them jump out of their skins. That had been amusing enough, but showing them how a real hunter stalked his prey had been the highlight of his morning. He smiled as he recalled the look on the taller of the two’s face; it had made the hour-and-a-half-long wait in the lukewarm waters of the pond, stripped naked and breathing through a straw, worth it.
As he navigated the busy streets of Caladaria, he considered that what really separated Elreni from Humans wasn’t their skin colour, physical body structure, or where they lived; no, what really separated the races was that Elreni were patient and Humans were not. Even his oldest and dearest friend Esme was like that, always wanting to be somewhere else and be doing something different when, if she just waited a few years, she could get what she wanted without the fuss. As the son of the Elreni envoy to the kingdom of Esmor, he had spent a lot of his eighteen years of life living among Humans, observing their habits and way of life, and despite not everything being to his liking, he did have a fondness for them. He knew quite a few of them considered him to be slightly arrogant in the way he dealt with them, but he couldn’t help it; he saw too much to improve on, too many ways he could outsmart them, to let the opportunities pass him by.
***
As he approached the gate to the envoy’s compound, he saw the two gate guards on duty dressed in Elreni garb, with the addition of the dark red cloak of his village, and each was holding a tall spear. They opened the small gate and bowed to him as he passed, shutting it again behind him moments later. As soon as the gate closed, the general background noise of the city died away to nothing, all the work of an enchantment a Feyweaver had cast over the compound to provide the Elreni dwelling with the peace they were so used to in their woodland home. The compound itself was dominated in its centre by a massive oak tree whose branches spread out to cover the compound grounds; built around the base of the oak was a traditional Elreni-style roundhouse where he, his father, and his father’s most trusted assistants lived. The rest of the compound was
mostly bare and had been given over to grass and bush to remind the Elreni of the Kuddin Woods. Aside from this, there were a few smaller roundhouses built up against the stone wall where the compound’s guards, numbering some twenty in total, lived, trained, and spent most of their free time.
Hark walked up the few steps to the central roundhouse’s main door, opened it, and walked inside. Once in, he headed straight for the tree’s trunk, exposed due to the lack of an inner wall, and approached an open archway in it that led to a spiral staircase that was built into the hollowed-out trunk. He ascended quickly to exit through a similar portal in the leafy heights of the oak. Directly ahead was a small platform that, while also giving an excellent view of the city, supported two smaller roundhouses, like the ones below, except these were only the size of a small room. He went towards the closest and entered. Once inside, he took off his equipment, and sat in a chair that over looked the city. From here he could see the towers of the king’s palace and Mages’ Guild, the only two structures you could see from ground level outside of Caladaria. He sighed contentedly. It had been a good morning, and he was happy enough to merely sit here and take in the view. His musings were interrupted when he heard the sound of feet coming up the staircase to the upper platform. He turned to see his father standing at the entrance to his room.
“Hark,” he said in his deep, slightly singsong voice. “You have a visitor.”
“Who is it?”
His father gave him a pained expression as he replied, “Someone with whom you have a strained relationship.”
Hark studied his father as he thought this over. Taegen Ulaneiros had been the first, and so far only, envoy from the Elreni of the Kuddin Woods to the Human kingdom of Esmor in the history of the two races. He was tall, even for an Elreni, reaching the towering height of six foot nine. His skin was cast in the hue of dark mahogany wood, something to be admired among a people whose skin colour ranged from willow bark to mountain pine and everything in between. His jet-black hair was tied in a long braid that reached down to the middle of his back, and his face had the traditional sharp, angular features that were common to all Elreni. He was currently dressed in the crimson robes that served as his casual clothes.
He returned his son’s studying gaze, no doubt noticing the slightly damp hair and wondering at the cause. This was confirmed a few moments later when he asked, “Was the pond water suitably refreshing?”
Blushing, Hark asked, “How did you know?”
Giving him a broad smile equal parts amusement and affection, he replied, “You have a pond weed behind your right ear.”
Hark reached up and soon found the incriminating plant, removing it and tossing it aside. Still smiling, his father asked, “And why did you decide the pond would be a good place to spend the morning?”
Grinning, Hark answered, “Some Humans were doubtful of my hunting ability; they aren’t anymore.”
Laughing, Taegen came over to his son and put an arm around his shoulder, then walked him out the door. As they left the upper platform and descended the staircase, he mused, “Showing up Humans really is your true passion in life.”
“It’s just so easy,” Hark replied.
“It is at that.” Stopping at the base of the stairs, he turned to his son and said, “But while that is true, you must avoid excessive taunting or teasing. The Humans are prideful beings who won’t take kindly to that pride being poked or prodded.”
“You sound just like Esme.”
“She and I both care about you, and wouldn’t see you harmed because some fool Human felt you went too far and wounded their pride.”
“I see what you are saying, both of you. Don’t worry, I will be all right.”
“Very good,” his father said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Now, Averie Lane wishes to speak with you.” At Hark’s frantic expression, he chuckled. “No, you can’t run from this. It’s easier to talk to her now rather than later. Don’t worry, I will be nearby to make sure she doesn’t overstep her bounds.”
Hark sighed and slumped his shoulders. Averie Lane had never approved of his friendship with her daughter, and had even gone so far as barring her from seeing him once or twice, to no lasting effect. In a suffering tone, he said, “Fine, I will speak to her.”
“Good. She is at the main gate.”
Hark and Taegen walked out of the main roundhouse to the gate side by side. When they were close to the gate, his father split off and went to stand to one side of the gate. Steeling himself for what was to come, Hark walked to the main entrance, pushed it open, and walked onto the street to see Averie Lane standing opposite him, arms crossed and a sour expression on her face.
“There you are,” she said in a disapproving tone. “I know this is unpleasant for the both of us, so I will be brief. You are to stop filling my daughter’s head with nonsensical tales of the rest of Esmor. She will be focusing on her studies from now on and cannot afford to be distracted. Am I clear?”
“Quite,” was Hark’s terse response.
“I am glad you understand.” As she turned to go, Hark spoke, unable to resist.
“You can’t stop her, you know. She doesn’t want the life you are offering; it won’t satisfy her or make her happy. She will just be miserable.”
The instant the words left his mouth, he regretted saying anything. On matters relating to her daughter, Averie Lane could become quite terrifying. She stopped abruptly, spun on one heel, and came marching back towards him with such a look of outrage on her face that he retreated a step in alarm. Standing toe to toe with him, she hissed, “What makes you think you know my daughter better than I do, Elreni?”
Hark was a brash, slightly arrogant, and stubborn but brave young Elreni, and it was this last point that caused him to, instead of backing down, reply, “Because I have known her for thirteen years. I have always been there for her, always been willing to listen, to help, to offer advice. I have been there for her more than you have.”
Averie stepped back, hissing in fury, and drew her hand back to strike when a strong, yet calm voice said from behind him, “Mage Lane, I hope you are not about to strike my son.”
Her expression went from one of open rage to stony, brutally enforced calm. Taking her eyes off Hark and looking at his father, she replied, “No, Envoy Ulaneiros, I was not.”
“Excellent. Now I believe you have spoken your mind to my son. If you are done, then please leave.”
Nodding stiffly, she turned and was about to go when Hark’s father spoke again.
“And Mage Lane?”
She paused and turned her head. “Yes?”
“Hark will respect your wishes regarding your daughter. He will not divert her attention from her future any longer.”
Hark ground his teeth at this, more because he hated doing anything Averie told him to, regardless of what it was.
She gave his father a curt nod and said, “Then my business here is done.”
As she walked off, Hark felt his father’s hand on his shoulder, and he relaxed, letting the tension flow out of him.
“You should not provoke her; you know she doesn’t think highly of you.”
Ignoring his father’s words, Hark said, “How someone like that became the mother of someone like Esme will be an eternal mystery to me.”
“And yet I can see her mother in Esme.”
“Really?”
His father turned Hark around to look into his face. “Yes. Esme owes her compassion, her kindness, and more to her mother. Things like that you aren’t born with, they are taught. And in this regard Averie taught her daughter very well indeed.”
Hark nodded in grudging acceptance of the point, reluctant to give anything to Esme’s mother. Idly, he thought of his own mother, now long since dead. He wondered what she would have thought about all this, about how overprotective Human parents could be when it came to their children. Though he had been very young when she died, he did remember enough about her to know she would have found the whole t
hing ridiculous.
Leading his son back inside the compound, Taegen drew him closer, and as they walked back to the main roundhouse, he said, “And you really should stop provoking her. Soon enough, Esme will go her own way from her parents, and you can spend as much time together as you wish. But until then, her parents have control of her, and if you want to keep seeing her without issue, then you need to stay on their good side.”
Seeing his son’s discomfort at his words, he squeezed his shoulder.
“Come now. We have a Feyweaver from Kuddin visiting us, and I thought you may like to watch him perform his art.”
Hark let his father walk him towards the central roundhouse, half his mind excited about seeing a Feyweaver at work, and the other half dwelling on Esme and the grim future he feared was in store for her.
Chapter Three
28th Day of Axnera. The Season of Dawn. Year 250
Hark sat with his back against the wall of the Elreni compound tending to one of his hunting knives, the morning sun warming the opposite side of the wall which was, in turn, warming his back nicely. So focused was he on his task that he failed to hear the sounds of closing footsteps and was surprised when Esme sat down heavily next to him.
Struggling to mask that surprise, he asked, “Trouble?”
She sighed deeply and said, in a weary tone, “Yes.”
“Well?”
“Are you going to say something to me that’s more than one word?”
“Maybe.”
He looked up and grinned at her, to which she lightly punched his arm.
“Well, what’s up?”
She was silent for a few moments, playing with the hem of a sleeve.
“My mother. She called me to her office yesterday to have a talk about my studies.”
