by B J Hanlon
“Do not worry of them, I have not seen one in my lifetime. The cousins were driven out of the lands generations ago. Though they are plotting their return…. Always plotting.”
“Umm, I will keep that in mind,” Edin stated raising his eyebrows. Clearly the cousins weren’t human. There were stories of some men from the southern islands or in the deserts of Porinstol eating each other for ritual, power, or because they were hungry. Then he remembered the sellswords and shook his head.
“If you were one of them, you would have died the instant you stepped foot in this valley.” She sighed. “Though that may have been so regardless. You are lucky to have me find you ignorant half ear. I’m not nearly as vengeful as some of my kind.”
“Vengeful?”
She waived a hand and looked to the forest.
Edin followed her gaze. There was nothing but the trees lit by the glow of the fire and the dark forest beyond.
Her head snapped back and she grinned.
Was this the way of all elves? He remembered stories of them. Legends really. Some said they were mischievous and blood thirsty, always at war with mankind. Other stories said they were helpful as highly skilled tradesmen, teachers, or alchemists.
Edin tried to parse out what she was like… what she was doing here. It was clear she wanted to help but she didn’t care what he thought. She was insulting, but the gentleness of her gaze felt warming.
After a long moment he asked. “How many men have you met?”
“Quite a few.” She paused again, “they are dead when I meet them.”
Edin swallowed, “then you haven’t actually met them…”
“I did, I gazed over their pierced bodies and prayed…”
Did she shake the cold hand? Kiss the cheeks like some cultures do?
“People have to be alive for you to meet them. Otherwise it is just…” He didn’t even know what to say, what word would he use for coming upon a corpse. He shook his head. “How were they killed?”
“Arrows.” She said and Edin shifted uneasily. “Oh, don’t worry, you’re safe from my kind for now, the village is far to the north… though.” She paused again.
“Though…”
Again, she was silent looking toward the trees.
He held her gaze, it started to feel awkward and he glanced away. “So why call men ignorant half ear? And weak?” Edin said shifting slightly on the ground.
She shrugged. “I was… kidding… yes that is the word.” She grinned again. “Yanking your tiny little ears...” She squeezed her thumb and forefinger together so only a small opening remained.
The elf’s eyes glanced to the forest for a second and the she turned her ear. “Just a fox,” she said.
He still heard only the river. “I’m Edin by the way.” Edin offered his hand and she looked at it curiously, slowly she moved hers forward, her long slender fingers slipping past his and gripping him around the wrist. He took hold of hers. Her skin was as smooth and soft as he’d imagined and Edin felt his heartbeat increase.
“Hello Edin.”
“Hi...” He let the word drag out and stared into the large eyes. From every human interaction he’d ever known, this would be the point where she would tell him her name.
Then, her eyes went wide and she quickly looked away.
“Okay, well, I’ve treated your wounds and made you dinner. If you were elven I’d be your mother.” She reached behind her and grabbed a deep, soft basket that looked to have been woven from vines. “Inside are herbs you’ll need to continue your journey, this plant,” she said pulling one out, it was yellow with pointed leaves that reminded Edin of a spear tip; thin black veins moved up it like a spider web.
“Boil it and wrap it around your… shoulder and finger. It will help with the healing spell. The… paste in here was made from the Zicels plant.” She quickly pulled it out and shoved it in his face. It had red flowers with small white bulbs in the center. “This you crush with a few drops of water until it becomes like the one in the bowl.” She stood quickly and started to move toward the forest.
“Wait,” Edin shouted, “why are you leaving? I don’t know your name, where I am, or how to get out of this.... valley.”
“Few leave this valley. There is peace here, tranquility… but yes you must go. Follow the Eltu,” she raised an arm and pointed with her hand flat. “Circle the maw… but do not enter no matter how much it calls to you.”
“The maw?”
She nodded but said no more. “Head toward the sunrise, the path will appear before you if Antulete blesses your journey.” She paused at the edge of the undergrowth and petted a rough barked tree as if it were a puppy. “Beware of the Ponnoa, you will not survive. And do not take her dinner again. She will hunt you.”
“What’s a Ponnoa?”
She moved her gaze to the sky. “A beast, untamable and wild like the groves of warpwood.”
He didn’t know what those were either, but her ominous tone was enough to keep him away even if he had known it was filled with treasure. Slowly he followed her line of sight and saw a red gash cut across the sky.
Her voice again startled him and he looked back at her.
“Be wary of it and any other of my kind. After your people’s betrayal, helping a human means exile. Should you decide to speak of this, my name will not be upon your lips.”
She turned toward him, her shimmering gold eyes and matching top seemed as bright as any fire he’d ever seen.
Edin felt as if he could get lost inside of them. A part of him wanted to stay in the valley with her forever. Heck, where else did he have to go? The world outside wanted him dead.
“The… aura around you is strong,” she said once again ripping him from his thoughts.
“Don’t go,” Edin said.
“Remember, stay out of the maw. Many elves disappear down there.” She stopped and looked as if questioning whether he understood.
Edin nodded.
“Onto the road, follow it right at the hunter… not left. Ancient evils are left. If you survive, you will reach the end of the mountains in a fortnight.”
He glanced down at the torn cloak around his waist and his booted feet. Somehow, the boots and his belt were the only things that survived. He even had his coin purse, a lot of good that would do him here. “The mountains are harsh… unforgiving I have not the supplies to make it a fortnight.” Edin said.
She offered a weak smile before she leapt into the tree line and disappeared.
After a long while, his stomach growled and he ate the second squirrel. He felt like a bear waking from hibernation. He wondered about this valley, the Ponnoa… what was it? He pictured a crillio or a giant bird, like the raptors.
As it had the night before, the forest began to awaken. The crickets chirped, soft padded footsteps crept just beyond the firelight of his camp.
Edin shivered under his torn clothes. His boots were fine but he had to climb mountainous terrain and make it to Carrow dressed like a beggar… worse even. If he was a city guard, Edin would turn himself away looking like that.
The thoughts were drowned out somewhat by the water’s gargle. Dreams were too quick to know what was happening or even to remember, but soon the sun was rising. The mountains to the east were blue and orange and seemed almost serene. Like his spot here at the river.
Edin closed his eyes again and woke in the late morning. His body hurt so he spread the paste on his injuries and ate a meadowcat flower. He’d slept too long but knew it was for the best.
Despite the she-elf’s warning, his mending body needed more time to rest and hopefully find food and maybe make clothes for the journey. How did one make clothes? There were no sheep for wool, no cotton bushes around… even if he had those what could he do?
Outside of this valley were more difficulties than he’d ever imagined. One more day, he thought. He sat in the pool and used a stick and a small vine trying to catch fish. He caught two. Small ones, barely the size of his little fing
er. He cooked them on a hot stone he’d sat in the fire and ate. They tasted terrible and he yearned for a bit of the squirrel from the day before.
During the day, he trekked into the forest and set four different traps. He saw bursts of movement but it was too quick for him to know what it was let alone give him time to catch it.
An hour or so later, he found a few trees with a purple skinned bulbous fruit. They looked familiar though he didn’t know the name. He grabbed a dozen and found some berry bushes. He had to stock up.
Walking was getting easier, the deep red gashes from the fall were now a light pink giving off the look of a healing injury and though his broken bones were healing, they did still throb most times and screamed if he did something they didn’t like.
During the day, he tied the cloak around his waist like a dress with his sword belt holding it up. Though he wasn’t too hot or cold, it was the bugs that made him wish for something more to cover up with. Bumps appeared on his body like a rash. He put the ointment on these, and the itch subsided.
It was a few minutes later when he was near a group of pinkish flowers with tiny black stars in the center that a thick yellow wasp flew out like a rock being hurled through the air and under his cloak turned dress. Edin yelped and sprinted toward the river ignoring the pain in his ankle and leapt in. He didn’t want to get stung anywhere near his manhood. It certainly wasn’t granite.
After the swim, Edin ate some of his foraged fruit and put the rest in the basket. He fashioned straps from vines, adjusting them so the bottom of the basket didn’t stab his lower back.
Wind rippled the trees and river as he sat in the humid day sweating and replacing it with the flowing water. Edin was dangling his feet in the pool when a bubble popped near him. It sounded like a sigh for some reason.
He looked for the person but saw no one. “Hello?” He asked hesitantly… but there was no answer.
As the day turned into night, he kept the fire burning with constant stoking. He wondered if the elf woman had checked on him at all. What if more elves did as well? The ones who didn’t so much like humans.
Scratches, grunts, and howls surrounded the campfire, the sounds kept him on edge but he couldn’t see anything outside of its glow.
He was startled from a half sleep, half daydream by a loud roar. Its sudden wildness and ferocity caused him to jump to his feet. That hurt. With wide eyes he tried to see out past the fire light into the thick undergrowth of the forest. Anything could come out and he had to be ready. Nothing did.
He laid awake the rest of the night, rocking slowly and keeping watch. Alone, he was vulnerable.
In the early morning, the majesty of the mountains didn’t seem to hold as much appeal. He was exhausted. Soon he’d have to traverse them and after a sleepless night the task seemed more daunting than anything. It was only the next step in who knew how many he needed to reach the isle. A place he never wanted to go in the first place.
A dull ache moved through his shoulder as he swung it in a circle. It was healing, but still far from healed.
As he filled up a plant-made waterskin the she-elf gave him, he stared into the river. Despite the rippling water, his reflection seemed alien to him. The beard had grown in splotches, deep circles hung from his eyes and his previously shinny hair was dull and matted. He felt like a warrior from one of the tribes of the southern islands wearing only boots and the skirt which they called something else. A lion cloth maybe? After the big cat… why he didn’t know but he’d stick with that.
Edin tiptoed through the forest and checked his traps. All were empty. After, he started following the river… he didn’t want to overstay his welcome.
Small rodents and larger deer scattered from the water’s edge as he rounded a thick copse of fir trees and small berry bushes. Fruits he could recognize. He’d once gotten so sick by eating small red berries that resembled the ones in front of him. He spent the next week in the outhouse with fluids draining from both ends.
He descended a stone ridge and saw a small bubbling waterfall barely three feet high. Gray and smooth rocks were darkened with the crashing spray. A cool mist formed a beautiful rainbow in the air. Edin ran his hand through it and felt only the water. Was this what a rainbow felt like? There were stories of little men hoarding treasure at the ends of rainbows. Though he never had been able to find the end and the little men.
He refilled the waterskin multiple times as he drank as much as he possibly could. During the day the valley was almost magical, a place where life played with abundance and no fear. Almost like home.
Edin understood why the elves were so protective of this place, why they didn’t let outsiders leave. Except for the she-elf. Edin hoped she wouldn’t be punished for helping a human… a magus. Good people help troubled strangers. Words from the Vestion’s Book of Truth.
The river began to flow faster and white gurgling water was almost a constant. The water began crashing louder and he could hear the thunderous sound of a much larger waterfall. The valley started to slop down like a drainage ditch. Still a few hours ahead, he saw the large mountains rising from the earth like a city wall.
He saw the river dropping then suddenly disappearing into the earth like a drain. A huge waterfall dropped for a hundred feet into a black pool of water where the sun didn’t reach. He had no idea how deep the pool was, nor did he want to find out. But the water continued beneath the earth into a black cavern nearly invisible from here. He wondered if it ever exited or if it stayed beneath the earth forever…
This had to be a sinkhole, he’d seen drawings of them. They ate up anything in their way like the hungry mouth of the earth. The maw.
This was what the she-elf was talking about… it seemed mysterious, scary and enticing. On the walls of the sinkhole, roots and plants slithered their way out of the earth and tangled with each other for the prize that was sunlight. It was like a gladiatorial fight where every contestant fought until only one survived.
He felt his heartbeat quicken as he stared down. There were so many vines and roots. He could climb down as if it were a ladder into the earth and could probably get back up as well. If he fell, he didn’t think he’d be hurt by the water. Heck he could control it.
Edin reached up and felt the fang and then the gem. The dark cavern reminded him of the place in the great cliffs, the temple or whatever it was…
Edin barely heard the loud approach ripping leaves and cracking branches.
“Do not!” a voice screamed.
He spun to see it was her, the she-elf. She stunned him for a moment. She wore a green dress, not a tunic and it shimmered like it were made from thousands of jewels. Her long porcelain legs shown from mid-thigh, to knee high boots. Behind her shoulders he saw the top of a bow and the fletching of arrows.
“I wasn’t going to,” Edin said. “Were you following me?”
“I… do not change the subject boy,” she yelled but still in that songstress voice of hers. It made it almost pleasant to be yelled at, to be called a boy again. “You are not powerful enough. Not even our greatest warriors venture down there.” Edin noticed markings on her face, a silver tattoo in the shape of a sun radiating from her eye.
“I will not… I promise.”
“I do not know what promise means; do you swear on Antulete. Swear he will strike you down with the fury of the hottest sun and that you will burn for all eternity as you work for penance in his fields of sorrow with other ripped and torn souls…”
“That sounds… harsh.”
“Do it!”
“I swear,” She seemed to ease a bit. “What are you doing here?” Edin said changing the subject, then he noticed the brown package in her hands.
“Clothes,” she said. “They maybe a little tall for you, but… well I found them. There are boots not made of animal hide as well.” She gave a disgusted look to his own boots. “Your feet are larger than any of our men.”
She didn’t move closer to him, her eyes darting toward the exp
ansive drop into the underworld. She set the package on the ground.
Edin took a few steps toward her and she sighed audibly.
“Thank you,” Edin said. “Will you get in trouble for stealing?”
“We share everything in our community. Of course, the best of us receive the finer things and those who don’t share the burden are exiled. So, no it isn’t stealing. I also brought you biscuits, they are good to keep energy up.”
“That dress is quite nice,” Edin said. She blushed and push her hair behind her pointed, spear-like ears. Her blush, hair and face… she looked almost like Kesona.
Edin stared, his chest thumping in his throat.
“I… borrowed it from my mother’s collection, she is the Volumor of our peoples.”
Edin furrowed his eyebrow.
“A… historian and priestess in your tongue.” Then as if she forgot to tend to a fire, she darted back into the forest before he could say another word.
Edin stared into the forest, wondering if she’d come back out or if he’d ever see her again.
After a few minutes, Edin began to change into the clothes. A deep green tunic with matching trousers that were a little tight around the chest and shoulders and rode a bit high in the groin.
A thick brown cloak was last, it came to his mid-thigh with a tall hood. The clothes breathed and despite their heaviness, even that of the cloak, he felt neither hot nor cold.
He gazed back over the sinkhole at the forest on the other side. The elf said around the maw. He looked at the land that was directly above it. There was only scrappy brown grass, patches of dirt, and scrub brush.
Edin circled it wearily and knew that the land or at least this small patch was dead or dying. On the other side, he delved back into the forest and went east. The moss told him he was headed in the right direction as the day faded into night. Like before, the trek was difficult as he skirted ridges, escarpments, and foliage.
Soon, a deep fog began to surround him, seemingly moving down the mountain like a terrifying monster ready to swallow him whole. Edin held a small mage light in front of him like a shield beating back the terrible monster, though its power held it only a few feet back.