The Forest at the Edge of the World

by Mercer, Trish

  Dirt, and several different kinds of it.

  She knew exactly what he was about to do, and tried desperately to think of a way to counter it. Someone had helped the captain with explanations about The Writings.

  Captain Shin addressed the crowd again. “None of us knows exactly how we came to this world. Our first ancestors began to ask the same question we ask today. After the first year when babies began to be born, our first parents asked the Creator, ‘From where did we get our bodies?’ That’s been one of the questions ever since, hasn’t it?” He smiled. “The other being, ‘And what happens after we die?’ But that’s a topic for another debate.”

  He paused and glanced back at the quivering mass.

  “And, regarding where Miss Peto suggests life may come from, I’m not anxious to see her demonstration of what happens after we die. I might lose my appetite forever.”

  The villagers laughed as Mahrree gave the idea a thoughtful look, followed by a mischievous grin.

  Captain Shin shuddered dramatically before resuming a more serious stance. “When our ancestors asked those questions, they weren’t ready for the answers. Nor, even with all our progress and advancements, do I believe are we yet ready for the explanation of how we got here. Perhaps our ability to comprehend is still immature, or our faith is too weak to accept the truth. The answer may be a fantastic revelation that we would dismiss as bizarre as the idea that we emerged from Miss Peto’s blob.”

  He glanced at her trembling concoction. “By the way, my brother would be much more handsome.”

  Mahrree smiled.

  The audience chuckled, and several women clapped loudly in agreement.

  Mahrree’s smile darkened and she fought the urge to glare in his admirers’ direction.

  Captain Shin continued. “To help our ancestors understand something of the nature of our bodies, the Creator called them together in a vast field.”

  Mahrree sighed. Soon he would reveal just how much he knew, and how well.

  “The Creator crouched in the middle of the field and scooped up a handful of earth.” Captain Shin reached into the crate and pulled out a fistful of soil. “He held it up and said to His children, ‘Consider, my beloveds, that you are of this earth. Your bodies belong to this world while you experience this Test. Your spirits have been with me for far longer than you can imagine; they are very, very old, but your bodies are very new.’”

  Mahrree felt goose bumps on her arms. Never before had she heard someone say those words as the captain did. Usually people read The Writings as if reciting from a dull school text. But Captain Shin repeated the Creator’s words as if he had actually heard Him speak them. Mahrree felt as if she was hearing Him right now. She glanced around the amphitheater and noticed he had the same effect on many of the villagers. They sat on the edges of the benches listening to his deep, rich voice.

  “‘My beloveds, to know where your bodies came from will not help you in your completion of the Test. Rather, it would serve only to confuse and even frustrate you. But know this: each of you is important and is here to serve a vital purpose. No matter your color or composition, each of you needs to help your family. And we are all family.’”

  Mahrree held her breath as he recited, perfectly and powerfully, the words of the Creator.

  “‘Just as I designed this world for your habitation during this Test, so I also designed your bodies to house your spirits. You have no other memories of your life with me before, but as I stand here now you have evidence that you did live with me. It is sufficient to know that I created all that is here on this world, including each of you.’”

  Captain Shin shook out the dirt in his hand and took another fistful of the darkest soil in his box.

  “Then the Creator held up a handful of dark brown earth and said, ‘Suppose instead that all of you are as soil. Some of your bodies were created from earth as dark and rich as this. Already you have discovered this kind of soil will yield the greatest harvests.’ I have to agree,” said the captain, breaking away from his narrative. “I took this sample from the field of Mr. and Mrs. Unabi, with their permission. The height of their pea plants right now is simply astounding. And from the looks of this soil,” he said analyzing the darkness of it, “the Unabis were formed from that very dirt themselves!”

  The audience chuckled as the Unabis beamed with pleasure. Their white smiles seemed to glow surrounded by their dark brown skin.

  Mahrree smiled outwardly but grumbled on the inside. He was smoothly winning over the audience. Every farmer or brown-skinned person of varying shades—which was about one-third of the audience—now felt a connection to her opponent.

  Captain Shin then reached into the box and pulled out another handful of soil, redder and more claylike.

  “Others, the Creator told us, were similar to this dirt. It is clumpier, moister, and yet still very useful earth.” He balled it up in his large hand, clenching it a few times until he opened his fingers to reveal a lump of clay. “This sample came from the Dinay family property whose pottery will be used by the fort. Seems to be sturdier than anything in use at the garrison in Idumea, and since soldiers tend to be clumsy creatures, we need plates and bowls that can handle a drop or two.”

  The audience chuckled in appreciation while the Dinays nodded that their goods would hold up well.

  “Much like this red clay, many families like the Dinays have a similar hue. Still earth, just differently shaded, and still infinitely useful.”

  Another segment of the population of Edge, reddish like the clay, was now looking at Captain Shin with approval.

  Mahrree moaned softly.

  The captain dropped the clay ball into the box and pulled out another handful of soil, lighter and tinged yellow.

  “Some of us, the Creator explained, could be considered derived from soil such as this one, yellowed with sulfur. Initially our ancestors didn’t know what to do with this, until they noticed insects stayed away from it. Suddenly sulfur-tinged soil was desired for lining farms and gardens to keep out the pests. Then it was discovered that farming soils, even those as dark as the Unabis, became even more productive when just the right amounts of this was shoveled into it. Now this smelly substance is being experimented with in Idumea to create salves for skin problems. What we initially thought was useless now is exceptionally useful.

  “My grandfather told me once that my great-great grandfather Shin, whose first name we never knew, was more this hue than any other. Over the generations his ‘soil’ mixed with others so that I can hardly see any trace of it in my own flesh. Yet as I look around tonight I see many with hair and eyes as dark as mine and skin tinted yellow as my great-great grandfather’s. I may infer that you may be my distant cousins.

  “There are those who lament the losses of our family lines—the records destroyed accidentally in that devastating fire after the Great War. But there are others who say it was an act of mercy. I don’t know who my ancestors are, as do none of you, but I can assume all of you are part of my family. And, as the first line of The Writings reminds us, ‘We are all family.’”

  Mahrree might as well have conceded defeat right there. Telling another one fifth of Edge that he was most likely a distant cousin solidly won their support. While his eyes were rounder than most of those he claimed as kin, many of his other features now seemed remarkably reminiscent of those families.

  Mahrree should have called for an end to the debate, because then she would have been spared what came next.

  Captain Shin dropped the yellow tinted soil into the box and now took a fistful of sandy gravel, pale and crumbly.

  “Then there were others of us created in a way similar to this . . . well, soil isn’t an accurate designation. Still considered ‘earth,’ though. The other part of my family apparently is of this constitution. It took our ancestors a while to find a use for this. For growing crops or creating pottery, it was quite disappointing. Had no useful soil-augmenting or medicinal purposes either. It se
emed like filler.” He sifted the sandy gravel between his fingers. “Dry. Bland. Barren.”

  He paused, glanced over at Mahrree, then stepped over to her. He took up her arm which was bare since she had rolled up her sleeves, and dramatically dribbled some of the pale dirt on her arm.

  “Hmm. Perfect match. No surprise there, since I took this sample from your front ‘garden.’”

  The amphitheater hooted with laughter, but Mahrree bristled in anger.

  At least, she hoped she looked like she was bristling. She trembled slightly as his large rough hand held her narrow arm.

  “I suppose I should have asked permission to take this,” he apologized loudly over the laughter. “But I didn’t think you’d notice a shovelful missing. Not sure if you’d notice anything different in your yard.”

  She yanked her arm away as the crowd roared again. With a huff she wiped off the dust and rolled down her sleeves.

  Captain Shin smiled at the people packed into the amphitheater. More were arriving every minute.

  “Then our ancestors discovered that mixing this dreary substance with water and a few other elements could create a mortar to hold together stones. And suddenly this, too, had purpose and was necessary for our lives.” He nodded at Mahrree as he dropped the last of the sandy gravel back into the crate.

  “Over the years we’ve discovered that mixing the soils creates other uses, just as blending our family lines has resulted in new and inventive mixtures. I asked Mr. Unabi if this soil,” he again held up a handful of sample from Mahrree’s garden, “could ever produce anything besides spindly weeds. He assured me that with a few wagonfuls of his soil, other amendments like manure and sulfur, and a lot of hard work even this,” he let it dribble out of his hands, “could become productive. I find that remarkable. And a far better science project for Miss Peto’s students.”

  The villagers tittered in agreement.

  Mahrree squinted.

  “By combining what we know and what we are, we can transform nearly anything into what we need it to become. I think that was planned deliberately by the Creator. He knew we would need each other, especially if one kind of ‘soil’ couldn’t do it all. This,” he held up Mr. Unabi’s black dirt, “would never hold as mortar.”

  Tossing the handful back into the crate, he continued. “Many of you, like me, would struggle to identify just what kind of ‘soil’ we are now. But we are all needed, all equal, and all capable of combining for intriguing results. I, for one, embrace the Creator’s explanation. Our spirits are from Him. Our bodies are created by Him of the earth to assist each other. And we will be returned to the earth when we die. And then we have the promise that someday these bodies will be restored and perfected, never again to be separated from our spirits.

  “There may be those who choose not to believe, and that’s their right. But I receive comfort and peace from this belief, and I choose that this,” he held up two handfuls of soils, the gravel and the yellow tinged, “is the constitution of my body, rather than to think that Miss Peto’s blob,” he jerked his head over at her sample, “is my future brother. This is not an issue for debate, but for belief. Make your decisions as to what to embrace, but let me embrace my belief.”

  The audience immediately rose to its feet and applauded thunderously.

  Mahrree would have applauded too, but that wouldn’t have been appropriate. Besides, his words couldn’t have been all his. She stood with her arms folded, smiling faintly at the praise he received.

  He glanced over at her and seemed just a little embarrassed, and Mahrree suspected why. She looked down at Rector Densal who glowed proudly at the captain.

  Something was going on between them.

  The rector was probably trying to help the captain be more readily accepted by the village, because that was the kind of person Hogal Densal was. He would see a need and do all he could to help. He must have been coaching the captain for days, and now he had found a way to connect to every citizen of Edge.

  Every citizen except one, who stood in obvious defeat on the podium.

  At least she had the satisfaction of knowing it took the combined efforts of both the wisest rector of the village and a university educated army officer to defeat her.

  When the applause died down Captain Shin turned to Mahrree and leaned in so close she could hardly breathe.

  “Besides, Miss Peto, as much as you may love your blob—and I hope you and ‘my brother’ will be very happy together—”

  Mahrree tried to ignore the sniggering in the audience as she blushed again.

  “—you mentioned before the notion of mythological elephants holding up the world. You and I both know that if one element of an idea can’t be true, then none of it is. Elephants aren’t real. Besides, you don’t really believe that either.”

  It was his third and last wink that completely did her in. She turned red and couldn’t form a retort.

  When Rector Densal declared Captain Perrin Shin the winner, she wasn’t surprised at all.

  Chapter 8 ~ “Uhhh, sometime I am available should be fine, when we, uh you, can make it.”

  Late at night, in the forests outside of the large village of Grasses, several men stood in a thick stand of trees. Two young men wore the village’s garb, while the rest were dressed in dark clothing that allowed them to blend into the woods. They had been watching all evening, timing the patterns of the soldiers who rode by on horseback at regular intervals.

  When all was clear, the largest man pointed to the two young men.

  They nodded, then stepped out of the forest and started their brisk walk towards the village.

  In the morning, the fort at Grasses would receive new recruits.

  ---

  The captain in charge of recruits at the large fort of Grasses evaluated the two young men who stood at attention in the command office that morning.

  “You’ll need to pass the first three weeks of training before you can be officially called soldiers,” he warned them. “Our colonel can’t use men that can’t run, ride, or fight.”

  “Sir, you and your colonel will be impressed,” one of the young men answered confidently. “We’ll qualify to be soldiers for the Army of Idumea. We already know how to do those things, and more.”

  The captain nodded once. “I’ll hold you to your promise. So, why did you choose to leave Orchards to come north?”

  The other young man shrugged. “We just find the north more appealing, sir.”

  “Well, then . . . Welcome to the fort of Grasses. We have a long and prestigious history, dating back to the Great War. I expect you will help forward that. The lieutenant will see that you get uniforms and show you your bunks. Training begins at dawn.”

  ---

  As Mahrree walked to the marketplace to gather her evening’s meal, her thoughts circled on just one thing: Captain Perrin Shin. The fourth debate had been several days ago and tomorrow would be their fifth. The closer it came, the more she thought about him—

  That was a lie, Mahrree admitted to herself as she crossed a road and continued south. There wasn’t any way she could think more about him. He seemed to be everywhere that week, walking past her school, in the neighborhoods, at the village green, around the amphitheater. And every day she heard reports of him from others, since everyone felt the need to tell her of their encounters with him. He even went so far as to go to Rector Densal’s congregational meetings.

  On the first Holy Day he attended, right after their second debate, he caused a mild panic. Everyone wondered why a uniform was there, although the rumor was that he was trying to appear penitent for his dismissal of The Writings.

  Mahrree had seen him when she first entered the meeting. He was already seated on a bench on the right side of the building, with adequate space around him provided by the stunned parishioners who didn’t want to risk getting too close. She stumbled over her feet for a moment, then made a bee-line for the other side of the building and sat down on a still-empty pew.


  Her mother, saving a spot for her just two rows behind the captain, waved frantically for Mahrree to join her. Hycymum had deliberately chosen that spot, Mahrree found out later, so that they would have a good view. It was when she was shaking her head apologetically at her mother that Mahrree noticed positioning herself in just the right way would put the captain right in her line of sight, if she glanced to her side.

  During the meeting she dared to peek over at him only twice. The first time a large woman leaned over and blocked her view. Mahrree had uncharitable thoughts about her for which she sent a quick apology upwards. The second time she did see him, but found herself so embarrassed she averted her eyes after only a brief moment.

  When they broke into smaller discussion groups he sat on the same row as her. The way the row curved, however, gave her a clear view of him.

  It also gave him a clear view of her.

  She did her best not to look at him, but it didn’t matter because everyone else was. It wasn’t expected that an officer would be interested in an in-depth discussion of The Writings before the congregational midday meal. But from his comments it was obvious he had read The Writings and even memorized some sections. He even pointed out a minor detail to Rector Densal that clarified a confusing passage. The rector had beamed at him proudly, but maybe he’d already been coaching the captain.

  That was when Mahrree finally stole a peek at him. He seemed to be looking in her general direction, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded and a studious look on his face. But she wasn’t sure until he gave her a quick wink. She sucked in her breath and turned towards the front again. For the rest of the meeting she sat frozen in place, but something insisted on burning in her chest.

  The day after their fourth debate was Holy Day again, and she sat a few rows behind him in both meetings so she could try to concentrate.

  That wasn’t the best idea, either.

  Instead of avoiding his winks, she found it difficult to focus on anything else but his thick black hair and the details of his head. She had the curves of his ears and neck memorized by the time the midday meal began.