by Raven Bouray
“Tha’ is a cunnin’ one but no’ fast nor quiet. The way he fights is no’ for ye. Have ye ever done meditatin’?”
“Meditating? What does that mean?”
“Bein’ still an’ calm in your mind. Like unbroken ice.”
Emmaline shook her head and then realized that he couldn’t see her do so from his place in front of her. “No.”
“Then tha’ will be where we will begin. Tonight. Until then, listen.”
Emmaline huffed but did as she was bid. She managed to train under one stubborn instructor and would do so again. After all, it would help her to escape when the time came.
They stopped later in another small cavern, and after they ate their now standard meal, Kelithor settled his backside onto the ground and gestured for her to join him.
The light cast more shadows onto his body than usual as she sat down in front of him. He looked every bit like a spook that her father used to tell her stories about. “Ye need to calm your body. Think o’ a place in your mind tha’ makes ye feel happy or calm. An’ when ye do tha’ slowly start ta calm each piece of ye. Arms, legs, back, mind, until ye feel like ye are flying. Until all ye are is your breath and heartbeat. Where ye mind is clear and ye are like a well ta fill. Close ye eyes.”
Emmaline nodded and did as bid while both excited and curious as to what this was exactly. She decided to rest the backs of her hands and wrists on her knees with her crossed legs. It seemed a bit silly to her now that she was actually sitting here in front of him just breathing.
First she thought of home, but that only made her start thinking about her family and that would not make her relax in the slightest, so instead she shifted it to something simpler. There was only one place she felt completely comfortable in and that was her garden up in her tree. The place she would go when she was upset or when she felt too overwhelmed or even when she wanted to just be among the green things. With the image of her tree in mind, she tried to do as he instructed. But constructing the tree after being so long away was difficult. What would it look like now with autumn creeping along? Would it still be green and lush, or would the leaves start to change with the coming of winter?
She loved it best when it was green, and so green it would stay here. Each leaf was crafted carefully in her mind, each branch, the texture of the bark and the way it almost seemed to have a heartbeat when she touched it. So focused on her creation she was that her body began to relax without her having to think about it. Her neck first loosened, then her arms and shoulders sagged, hips, legs and finally her feet to where she could barely feel anything except oddly weightless.
Her breathing slowed naturally with everything else and finally all she could feel was each pulse in time with her tree heartbeat. She was warm and safe and with that warmth came a surge, much like the tides of the ocean, pulling and pushing on her chest, and she drifted that way until she was taken from her tranquil state by a firm hand to her shoulder.
Her eyes snapped open and she immediately felt dizzy and exhausted, as if she had run a long distance or exercised for an hour in the arena. Slowly and carefully, she lifted her hand to her head and realized that Kelithor had moved to her side, and it was his hand on her shoulder.
She shook her head slightly and dropped her hand to the ground beside her and promptly jerked it back. Her eyes landed on the area around her, which was rock, or so she thought because now it was covered in rich green moss. Emmaline quickly scrambled away from the area, no matter how ridiculous it made her look, and stared at the spot again. “How? Why? What happened?”
“It is jus’ the magic o’ the Wilds. No’ a thin’ ta worry abou’.” But his tone was breathy, and sounded far away to her.
A feeling in the back of her head made her doubt his words, but she decided not to question him. “Why did you want me to do that?”
“In battle, ye canno’ be filled wit’ thoughts. Ye have ta focus on the battle. It be a way warriors do so. If ye can do it and know wha’ tha’ feeling is, ye can do it when ye need.”
Emmaline nods because that does make sense. It was also a lesson that Uracen imparted to the squires and recruits often, but they never had an exercise for it. Emmaline reached out for the moss again and touched the soft, wet surface before she drew her hand back again. Kelithor said nothing as he stood and walked over to another part of the small cavern to sleep.
Emmaline was too tired to think, and sleep claimed her nearly as soon as she laid down.
The next day was more of the same, no talking, just listening, and Emmaline was starting to become restless. But the night was the most interesting yet. They stopped in another large room, and Kelithor left her again to scout around. He returned a short time later with a thick stick. Emmaline was confused when he held it out to her.
“What am I supposed to do with that?”
“Take it.” As if that explained everything.
“What is it?”
“A weapon.”
Emmaline realized that he had brought her a rather crude looking and unbalanced staff. How did he know that she used a staff? Could he have overhead something when he had come to her home? Or had he been watching her even then? The thought caused gooseflesh to erupt on her neck as she shivered.
He gestured again for her to take the staff, and she obliged him from her seat on a large, flat rock. “Rise an’ hold it in as if ye were to battle.”
Emmaline looked at the rough staff and back up at him. It had been nearly a month since she had last handled a staff, and before that, she had just started training again a week prior. This was not going to end well for her, but her pride was now a concern, so she stood and took a few paces forward. Her hands took up the appropriate position on the staff and she spread her stance out.
She heard a clicking chiding sound come from him as if he were disappointed and she was about to turn around to fire a response back when he was beside her and she hadn’t heard him move.
His gloved hand gripped her wrist and he pulled it slightly up along the wood, nodded and then walked behind her, pulling her shoulders up and back, and then twisted her body to make a straighter stance. Emmaline was too flustered to make much of a fuss. His proximity to her and the way he was handling her like a doll should have made her upset but it was equal parts oddly soothing and awkward. He had been this close before but it was only in passing and he hadn’t touch her nearly as much as he was doing now. And she definitely realized now how much smaller she was in both height and weight from him as he bent over her.
Kelithor moved to the front, and his gloved hand gently prodded her chin up, and she lifted her face to meet his hood again. And for the thousandth time, she wondered what he looked like under there.
He nodded then and backed away from her. Emmaline noted her stance and memorized it for later. She tensed up when he drew out his swords and turned them so the edges wouldn’t cut. “Ready ye staff,” he commanded, and she gave him a surly glare but did so. His hood tilted to the side, and then he nodded slowly. “Now take a practice strike.”
Emmaline nearly laughed at the way his voice carved the unfamiliar word out but she nodded and gave a lunge and swing to his right, which he easily dodged. Her staff whooshed through the empty air and set her off balance, and she could only blink at his speed. Of course, she had seen it in action but never so close and she had to admit that it was intimidating. After the first couple of movements from them both, he seemed to slow down. His next parry was almost lazy while their weapons connected with a dull clunking noise. She feigned right, swung left, and within the blink of an eye, her staff was clattering onto the cavern floor. Mouth agape and hands empty, she could only stare at the empty air where her staff used to be, then looked over at the weapon lying on the ground and back to her companion. “How? What? That’s not fair.”
“Fair? Ye think an enemy woul’ be fair to ye then?” He sounded irritated and bored.
“Well, of course not. But most people won’t be hooded and cloaked when I f
ight them, will they? I can’t see your eyes. And this is practice, not real.”
“The eyes are no’ the only way ta see your enemy. An’ eyes can lie as well.” His tone was one of possible amusement as he rotated his wrists. His swords circled along his sides before he tossed and caught both. “Try ta find tha’ still place again.” He assumed his ready stance, and she retrieved her weapon with a sigh.
Emmaline tried to focus with her eyes open and only got distracted. Her weapon sailed again to the floor, and after a third try, she wanted to just throw the staff at his head and watch him dodge that.
“Are ye sure ye trained at all?” He was taunting her.
“Silence,” she growled in his direction. “You’ve had years more training than I have. And you are expecting me to learn five new things at once? It’s almost like you don’t want me to learn at all.”
The moment she said it she felt a shift in the air around them.
“That’s it. Isn’t it? You don’t really want me to train at all. You want me to quit. I don’t know why, but you aren’t getting rid of me that easily.”
“It is no’ tha’. Ye would be better wit’ a long weapon. A bow, or sling. Far away from the battle. Ye coul’ have the speed but ye do no have the guard for close weapons.”
“Is it just because I am a girl then?” She pointed a finger in his direction. “Because you told me that women fight too with your elves. Or was that a lie?”
“No lie. They do, but ye are mean’ for more than this. Ye do no’ have it in ye ta kill.”
“How do you know what I have in me? You’ve only known me for less than a month and even then you do not know me at all. I refuse to be helpless. I won’t be a toy or a puppet. So stop trying to sabotage me with silly lessons and a heavy hand. Help me.” She was angry, certainly, but more disappointed than anything. They seemed to be getting along well enough, but she didn’t think he would be deliberately unkind to her from the way he acted before this.
No matter. He would either help or not, and if he didn’t, then she would just have to help herself.
Chapter 29
“I am sorry.” It was the first thing he said upon waking the next morning. “I was no’ kind, and ye were right. I will no’ teach ye to fight though. I will teach ye to stop harm to ye.”
The next three days… Well, maybe it was days. Emmaline couldn’t really tell the hours within this place but instead had to measure in the amount of times she slept. Regardless as to the amount of days, it was all the same. He made her center herself every morning and every night before and after they had traveled along the still same walls in the same dim blue light, and each time was just a little easier than the last. Though there had been no more episodes of spontaneous growth each time she brought the tree forth in her mind, she felt this odd surge of...something inside of her. It was not strong, nor was it worrisome, just odd.
He had even led her through a spar, slowly and carefully, telling her with his hands, torso, feet where he was going to move next so that she could absorb the knowledge slowly. It left her feeling invigorated and excited to be finally doing something other than riding on the back of her horse. Any training with her staff from before this unwelcome adventure just wasn’t going to be good enough. He was even encumbered by a cloak and still moved at least twice as fast as she could.
Silence still reigned between them but the silence had opened up not only her ears but also her mind. Chatter occupied one’s thinking power, but since her voice had been muted for the time being, it led to other thoughts. And she couldn’t stop for thinking until it felt as though she were going to explode. “How does it work?”
Kelithor tilted his head and turned to look back at her. “What work?”
“I’ve been thinking about our talk a few days ago about your people since I haven’t had anything else to do and I have been pondering about something you told me. You say everyone is equal, but how could that be? What sort of currency do you use? How can one have an economy without currency? Where do you get everything?” The sentences tumbled out of her without stopping, and she couldn’t reign it in even if she tried.
“I do no’ think ye can go for long wit’ no speech. No’ with that eager mind.” He was silent for a moment as they walked upward. Emmaline was sure, at least, that it was upward. “I do no’ know the true parts o’ it. But I do know tha’ no one is hungry or cold or unclothed. All work for everyone. Food is grown by druids. The merchants are o’er the books for supply. An’ we do ‘ave coin, just no’ in the way humans do. If ye want more than ye are given, then ye work for it. If ye are content with what ye are given, all ye have to do is the work that ye are given.”
“All right. But what about the professions. What if everyone wants to be a builder or clothier or soldier? What happens then?”
“We are very long lived. An’ most families stay in their work. Most but no’ all.”
“But what about those who are lazy or greedy or can’t find what they want to do, or if you have too many of one profession to begin with instead of too few?”
“How did the humans no’ go mad when dealin’ with ye and your questions?”
“Very well I will have you know. And you are the one who has kept me silent. It’s a frightening place in my own mind at times.”
“Of tha’, I have no doubt,” he muttered under his breath, and she swung her staff at his head. He dodged her attempt, and instead she thrust her tongue out at the back of his head.
“That was rude,” she humphed.
“But true. And ta give ye answer, it is tha’ ye think o’ this as a human. Humans are gone in the blink o’ an eye. They always seek things because o’ it. It is a race for them. And they are greedy and cruel at times. We are different. In here.” He tapped his hood. “We learn at a slow pace, have time ta do so. O’ course there be at times those who do no’ think as most do but tha’ sort o’ thing is the task of the King or Queen and the Grand Maester of their trade to deal wit’.” He paused to take a breath. “O’ course, if all ye have is what ye need, then most are content.”
“What about things like gems and silks and luxuries. Things that aren’t required to live but make people feel better?”
“Tha’ is where work comes in. Those things are earned or traded for. If ye achieve Grand Maester status, then ye have more respect and other things. It is the thing that mos’ try for.”
“So no one is like a slave then?”
“No.” He sounded aghast. “O’ course no’. We have no slaves. That is cruel.”
Emmaline was about to respond again when a new sound caught her ear. It was the glorious sound of water crashing against rocks. Like a waterfall. And a slight breeze swirled and caressed the dirt crusted skin of her face and neck and her attention shifted dramatically along with her excitement. Water. Real water. A bath. She let out a small giggle at the thrill which ran through her.
Mercifully even Kelithor quickened his pace, and it seemed that he was just as eager to be out of this place as she was. Arya threw her head up and back at the change in the atmosphere, and she had to calm the mare with a gentle touch and soft words to keep her from bolting ahead. There was no telling what sort of beasts could be out there and if it was even safe.
Natural light appeared above them and then it was only a matter of time before they emerged into it. The water cascaded louder and the scent of nature tickled her nose.
Just a few more steps...and they emerged into another world once more.
Green. There was green here. Leaves, trees, flowers, moss, beautiful colors that it took a moment for her to process fully from the brown, grey and blue tones that had become her life. It was a bowl of beauty and a feast for her starved senses. And at the center, like a mural or tapestry or beautiful painting, was a crystal blue waterfall that poured into a small pond which fed the greenery.
Emmaline didn’t remember dismounting Arya, nor did she remember walking over to the flowers or dropping to her knees amongst them. W
hat she did remember was their fresh, delicate scent and the way they felt to her palms and the side of her cheek. She released a trembling breath and tried to stop her racing heart. Luckily her face was turned away from Kelithor because she might have been embarrassed if he had seen the single tear that ran down the side of her face.
Not only was she so elated to be out of that cave and she never wanted to go back underground ever again and no one was going to make her. She was more conscious of the dirt and grime that covered nearly every inch of exposed skin and even skin that was covered up by her dingy and crunchy clothing. “How does this place even exist?” After making sure that she was tear free, she turned back to Kelithor, and to her surprise, he had taken off his pack and was opening the large main pouch up.
“We are near the heart o’ this place. Magic made it and it hums even now. Do ye feel it?”
Emmaline had grown used to the tingling and humming under her skin, and so if there was more of it here, it was not bothering her now. “I suppose so.”