The Moon Ring

Chapter 3

Laoch stared down at his arms.  It had been his first call out.  He had graduated from his academy almost a year previously but it had been his first call out.

He remembered the look on Dreasa’s face when he had graduated: pure jealousy.  As a Guardian he had spent an extra six years in the academy; one less than a ground worker.  After school, all elven children spent an extra three years training in their chosen fields (except for the girls who planned on taking care of households).  If your chosen career involved combat or leaving territory borders, you spent an extra three years in training, four if you had to work on the ground.

Dreasa had been a few months short of graduation, Laoch thought miserably.  He had so been looking forward to it.

A part of Laoch felt guilty – a really big part.  Soon after his graduation ceremony, he had been put to work guarding the borders of Ashlenair.  He had never been near the border without a chaperone before and even then it only been for the practical training they’d started in their last year.  He’d never been able to run the border before, scout the area every now and then, to experience Ashlenair as a graduated Guardian!  Looking back, he might have been a tad tactless when describing his adventures to his friends that were still in training.

It’s probably me that put the idea in their heads.

If he hadn’t exaggerated!  He had made it seem so much greater than it was, made out that he went further than he really did!  He had never gone more than 500m beyond the border.  They had been found much further out.  And he should have been manning the border!  That was his job!  How had they gotten past the guardians?!  It was all his fault!

Laoch stared morosely at his best friend’s body.  If it hadn’t been for Feimeach…

If it hadn’t been for Feimeach, there wouldn’t have been any bodies to send off.  She had practically flown back into Ashlenair, screaming about dwarves and Dreasa.  The Guardians had summoned the warriors immediately waited long enough to hear who was out there and where they before the lot of them had raced off.  They had got there just before the dwarves had tried to escape.  They had managed to kill eight of them, four had escaped, five warriors and two guardians had been severely injured, but they had gotten to the healers in time.  The young Herb Collectors, Laoch’s friends, hadn’t made it.  Laoch had had to carry Dreasa’s body back.

He looked back down at his arms.  They were still caked in blood.  So were his legs, chest and face.  It had been his first call out…

Strands of his golden brown hair that weren’t long enough to be tied at the nape of his neck with the rest slapped at the side of his face.  The sun had risen a few hours before; exhaustion pulled at his limbs, urging to return home to his bed, he had been on duty all night.

It had been mere hours since he had gone into the woods to find his friends.  As was the norm, by the time they got back, most of Ashlenair already knew what had happened.  Laoch had barely held it together throughout the whole ordeal, but when he came face to face with Dreasa’s parents, his limp form still dangling from his arms and staining his clothes red, he found he could hardly think, let alone walk.  The look on their faces had been too much to bear.

His brain felt fuzzy.  It was near impossible for him to believe that one of his best friends were gone.  He half expected Dreasa to walk up beside and moan at him for looking so miserable.  All he had was Feimeach, gripping his hand like a lifeline as silent tears poured down her face.  He felt somehow disconnected from Feimeach though.  Dreasa had been the bridge that connected Laoch and Feimeach’s contrasting personalities.  They might have been best friends, but they were just too different to get along well without Dreasa.