It had been six weeks since that fateful night. Laoch hadn’t seen or spoken to any one besides the people who went on duty with him. He had never been given a break, had never been allowed to rest. This was a time of war; if everyone was given a break to grieve when they lost someone they loved hardly anyone would ever be working. The first few weeks after Dreasa’s death, Laoch’s dreams had been plagued by the memory of Dreasa’s mangled body. The nightmare came less often now, but sometimes he would still wake up in a cold sweat, tears rushing down his face.
He walked along the slat walkway that was the higher border of Ashlenair, his hand roving along the coarse twine handrail. He stared out at the trees beyond the border. He had always loved the forest that Ashlenair was situated in, but now it was nothing more than the forest Dreasa had died in. Sult Forest would never be beautiful to him again.
He looked down at the ground border: a 4m high stone wall, a metre taller than Warriors, the tallest Elves in Ashlenair. How had they gotten over?
The sound of distant talking snapped him back to reality and he silently scolded himself. After what happened to Dreasa, he should know better than to lose his focus! What if more Elves got past him and died as a result?
He walked further north, in the direction of the voices.
“Can you imagine a girl like her as a Houseminder? It’ll be disaster!”
“Who cares what kind of girl she is? If she had chosen a good, respectable job when she was given the chance, then she wouldn’t have this problem, now would she? Houseminding is the only option she has left; no Academy is going to take on a 41 year old!”
Elven children start school the year they turn 14 years old, and spend the next 20 years doing compulsory studies. The year they turn 34 years old, they go to a Training Academy of their choice; the only exception is girls who choose to become Houseminders.
Laoch’s heart clenched at the conversation. He sped up until two fellow Guardians he was on duty with came into view.
“Who’re you guys talking about?” He asked.
“That girl who survived the Dwarf attack,” one of them replied.
“Yeah, she’s finally realised that beyond the borders is no place for a woman and gone and quit Herb Collecting to become a Houseminder,” the other laughed.
“What? But she loves Herb Collecting! It’s her dream to take over from her father!”
“Oh yeah! I forgot you were friends with her!” The first one replied. “Sorry, mate, but the Dwarf attack obviously scared her off it.”
Laoch looked up at the sky, he had one more hour on duty, and then he would go see Feimeach.
Two hours later found Laoch walking through the Healer Village Feimeach lived in. Laoch had been assigned to the South-Western section of the border and his village was situated in the Far North of Ashlenair, near the border. It had taken some time to head home, wash, change and then head back towards the Near South where Feimeach’s village sat, near the Elven Castle.
He strolled casually through the criss-crossing lath footpath that connected and inter-connected the villages. All of Ashlenair was built high up in trees, except the Castle, because it was built atop 600 tons of solid marble.
He watched idly as Herb Collectors brought fresh herbs to the Healers, or Healers sent fresh potions and poultices to various other villages. Most of them probably went to the Protector villages, to the Warriors, Laoch thought distractedly. Laoch would have loved to be a Healer, but it would have shamed his family if he, a Warrior’s son, became a mere Healer.
Suddenly, Laoch came upon Feimeach’s house – she still lived with her parents. As a woman, it was expected that she remain there until she finds a husband, only men moved out and built their own house when they graduated, but Feimeach always spoke of building a house for herself. Laoch wondered if that was something else that had changed, especially now that she given up her training in favour of becoming a Houseminder.
He shuddered; Feimeach had to be going through something truly terrible to become a Houseminder. She had always spoken of it with true loathing.
He rapped on the hard wood that made up the wall – the door being nothing more than a leaf-woven piece of cloth that hung from the roof. After a few moments, a woman pulled the cloth aside, peering out from the darkness within. Laoch recognised this woman as Feimeach’s mother, a Healer and old woman, though you wouldn’t know it by looking at her.
Everyone born on Tirnanog ages at half the rate of those from the Other World, and stop aging completely at 60 years old. The only way to die in Tirnanog is to be killed, there is no such thing as a natural death.
“Laoch?” She questioned, squinting at him, it was barely past dusk, the time light played the worst havoc with eyesight.
“Yes, ma’am, is Feimeach in?” He asked politely.
Unexpectedly, the woman’s eyes turned sad and she cast her eyes to the ground. “Aye, but she’s in a terrible state. Hasn’t been right since – since that night.” Her voice broke slightly and Laoch shuffled his feet guiltily, he should have been there for her.
“May I see her?” He asked softly. “I heard she quit the Academy and I – I got worried.” It sounded like a pathetic reasoning, even to his ears. He prayed she didn’t ask him about his absence until now.
She looked up at him, this time he was the one staring at the ground. She could see the guilt etched into every line on his face and realised the Dwarf attack had affected him just as much as it had Feimeach. She stepped aside. “She is in her room.”
Laoch nodded his thanks and slipped past her, entering the warmth of their home. He hadn’t been there very often but he barely spared it a glance before heading in the direction of Feimeach’s chambers. Normally, it would be inappropriate for him to be alone with her in her chambers, but her parents knew him well, knew there would never be more than friendship between them, and he suspected he was given special permission, considering the circumstances.
He heard no sound emanating from her chambers as he approached.
“Knock, knock,” he whispered through the cloth guarding her room. He heard her gasp at the sound of his voice. The gentle rustle of fabric as she climbed off her bed. Padded footsteps as she hurried across her floor. Her door was practically shoved out of the way in her haste to see him. As soon as their eyes met, she threw herself into his arms and began sobbing into his shoulder.
Laoch was shocked. He knew it must be bad for her to have quit the Academy, but he never dreamed it was this bad. Feimeach, crying? Yes, she had cried at the funeral, but that was expected, this was another thing entirely.
“I’m so sorry!” She blubbered. “I – I didn’t mean to! I just thought since we were – since we were so close to graduation that – that we could go – that we would be safe!” Laoch paled. She was talking about that night. He had avoided even thinking about that night and now here she was talking about it. He waited for her anguish to turn to rage, waited for when she would start yelling at him. “And then – and then I got so excited and I started playing and – and I’m the one that distracted them all! I’m so – so sorry, Laoch! And now you hate me, and I can’t bear to think about going back out there –”
“Wait,” Laoch interrupted her tear-stained ramblings, gripping her forearms to leverage her slightly away from him. “You think I hate you?” He asked blankly.
“Well – well, yes.” She looked up at him confusedly. “That’s why you turned me away at the – at the funeral; why you’ve been avoiding me these past weeks.” She wiped her tear-dampened face on the sleeve of her nightgown. “Isn’t it?”
Laoch almost laughed. “No, no, of course not! I – well, I…” Laoch faltered. So far, she hadn’t brought up the role he had played in that cursed event. Could he voluntarily bring it up? Yes, he decided. If it helped ease Feimeach’s mind, he would have to.
Feimeach gasped, suddenly realising her rudeness. “Please, come in, sit down!” She stepped aside to allow him entry, gesturing to the few wooden armchairs scattered about the room.
Laoch sat on one in the furthest reaches of the room, if only to delay the moment he would have to admit his guilt. Finally, when Feimeach had seated herself to his left, he took a deep breath. “The truth is, Feimeach, that I turned you away at the funeral, I stayed away as long as I have, not out of hate, but out of guilt and self-pity.”
Feimeach furrowed her brow in confusion. “Guilt? Laoch – but what on earth do you have to feel guilty for?”
He stood up and began to pace. “Feimeach, I – I know I’m the one who put the idea in your heads about going beyond the border. I was prideful that I had graduated first, that I was considered an adult first. I gloated and exaggerated and – and I was manning the border that night!” He exploded, making Feimeach jump in surprise. “I’m a Guardian! It’s my job to make sure things like that don’t happen and I failed! My failure cost Dreasa his life!” Saying Dreasa’s name for the first time since that night gave him pause. He stopped pacing and turned to look at Feimeach, who stared at him incredulously. “It’s my fault, Feimeach, and I was so busy hating myself that I couldn’t bear to see you, couldn’t bear to look at you and know that you almost died because of my egotism. Because of my failure,” he added softly.
“Oh, Laoch!” Feimeach cried. She was in tears again. “Laoch, it was never your fault! Dreasa and I had been talking about passing the border since before your graduation! It was because of your stories that we put it off for so long! We finally worked up the courage because we were so close to our own graduation! If anything, you helped stop us! It was our own pride that pushed us forward, our own delusions of invincibility! And as for you being on duty, we jumped the North-Eastern border, knowing you were on duty in the South-Eastern section, and then circled back around to your side after we were out of sight of the border. None of the blame lies with you, Laoch. None of it.” She repeated assuredly.
Laoch had sat down again, leaning forward with his head in his hands, but at that he looked up at Feimeach, unshed tears glistening in his eyes. He wiped them away distractedly.
“It’s not your fault either, Feimeach,” he told her gently. She averted her gaze, unable to believe him. “You and Dreasa were always one for mischief. You could never have known what awaited you. If it hadn’t been for you, we wouldn’t have been able to give Dreasa or the other boys a proper send off. If those Dwarves had spotted you, you would have met the same fate as the rest of them, you risked your life to try and save them, to make sure they were found. You should be proud of yourself, Feimeach.”
“I just…”
“You are not to blame, Feimeach,” he told her sternly. “The Dwarves that did this are.”
She shook her head. “I still can’t believe there were Dwarves in Sult Forest. In the East no less! I thought Dwarves hated water, what on earth were they doing that close to the Kirc River?”
“The Warriors think they were Scouts, sent to check the protection of the Ashlenairian border. They were risking proximity to the river because the stupid war makes them purposefully seek us out.”
“’The stupid war?’” She repeated. “Laoch, what do you mean? Don’t you think the war is righteous? Especially after what the Dwarves did!”
Laoch sighed; he hadn’t meant to say it so boldly. “Of course I disagree with what the Dwarves did! And of course I think the war is justified,” that was a lie, “the Dwarves started it after all. I just…” He paused.
“You think the war is a pointless waste of life?” Feimeach finished for him. Laoch was shocked that she had been able to read him so well, but Feimeach misinterpreted the look he gave her and began stammering, “I only meant – you know – that if it wasn’t for the war, then Dreasa would still be alive, that half the people in Ashlenair would still be alive. I didn’t mean that I think the war is wrong, I just –”
“Feimeach, relax. That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
“It was?” She asked him suspiciously.
“Yes, my grandfather died fighting in this war, my father will probably die fighting in this war, I might even die protecting Ashlenair from the war. I think the Dwarves should pay for what they did. I just don’t think their punishment should be worth so many innocent lives. I just wish the war would end already…” He sighed.
She barked out a humourless laugh. “There is no way this war is ever going to end.”
“Well, it might.” She looked at him sceptically. “You know…if the Moon Ring was ever found.” He blushed red at the childish idea.
Feimeach laughed for real this time. “Find the Moon Ring? What do you want to do? Raid the whole of Festlik until we find where the Dwarves hid it?” Festlik was Dwarven territory, in the Ezekian Forest. Laoch laughed. “Or would you prefer to go to Karvel Forest and ask the Woodland Faeries?”
“Woodland Faeries?” Laoch looked at her uncomprehendingly. “Why would the Woodlanders know where the Moon Ring was?”
“Oh, didn’t I ever tell you?” Laoch shook his head. “Back in school, there was this one girl who was the great-granddaughter of the Scout who brought back the news of the Moon Rings whereabouts. She said he heard about it from a Woodlander.”
“That makes no sense, then why haven’t we spoken to the Woodlanders yet?”
“No idea, probably because Karvel Forest is on the other side of the Kostan Mountains, never mind the fact that Festlik is almost exactly between us.”
“That’s right,” Laoch mused. “I remember my dad talking about how the Woodlanders refused to ally with us because Festlik’s border was just beyond their forest and they feared retribution from the Dwarves, especially with us too far away to be much help.”
“What do you mean ‘just beyond their forest’? The whole of Kostan Mountain rests between Ezekian Forest and Karvel.” She raised a brow at him.
“That may be, but Festlik has pushed their border, to include a piece of the Kostan Mountains. Since they mostly live underground, all they had to do was tunnel underneath.”
Feimeach gasped. “Festlik now runs underneath the mountain too?” Why haven’t we stopped this?” She demanded.
“We can’t,” he explained, spending 40 years with one of Ashlenair’s top Warriors had taught him a lot. “We don’t function well underground, and that’s where they thrive. If they were taking more land territory, then maybe we could do something about it, but we can’t stop them expanding underground.”
“Poor Woodlanders, so they’ve allied with the Dwarves?”
“Not as far as we know.”
Feimeach laughed suddenly, breaking the melancholy mood that had descended upon the pair. “Imagine if someone did go speak to the Woodlanders.”
Laoch joined in her laughter. “Yeah right, can you really imagine an Elf trying to cross Kostan Mountain? No way!”
“Well they wouldn’t have to cross Kostan Mountain, they could cross Tenoch Mountain and cut across through the where the mountains meet,” Feimeach giggled at her ludicrous idea.
“Please, a mountain’s a mountain, no matter the name,” Laoch chuckled. “Besides, even if someone was stupid enough to try, they would need a map, or else risk becoming hopelessly lost.”
“Well then maybe you should go,” Feimeach teased him.
“Me? Why on earth would I be stupid enough to go on such a suicidal mission?” He asked her, eyes wide with incredulity.
“Well your father’s a Warrior, so he no doubt has a map; you’re tall and exceptional at Wind Magick, so you’d fare better than most in the mountains, and I know you’ve secretly been studying the healing arts, so you could care for yourself if something went wrong.” Feimeach grinned at her observation. She was too busy laughing, too distracted by her happiness at her returned friendship, that she didn’t notice the look that passed over Laoch’s suddenly sober face.
*****
A week after Laoch’s visit, Feimeach was walking through a Construction village in the Near North-East of Ashlenair, delivering a package from her mother to one of the Scouts when she passed by a girl she had known back in school. She had become a Houseminder and been married off to a Builder a few years back. Word had it the couple was already trying to conceive; most usually waited about twenty years before trying for their first child, or at least until they were old enough for the aging process to have stopped.
“Feimeach!” The girl squealed. She was suddenly harshly reminded of why she had avoided this girl. “Oh my gosh, have you heard?”
“Heard what?” Feimeach asked wearily. Maybe, she was with child. Feimeach hoped not; she was in no mood for baby talk.
“One of the Guardians was kidnapped last night!” She gushed.
“What?” Feimeach gasped. That was the last thing she expected to hear.
“Yes, it’s all so strange! They say his entire house was ransacked!”
“Wait, you mean to say he was kidnapped from his house?!” She asked in shock. That kind of thing was unheard of. A part of her wondered how anyone had gotten past the borders, into a village, into a Guardian’s home, without being detected.
“Yes! And that’s not all! The weirdest part of it all is that his father’s house was robbed too!”
“His father’s house? How would the kidnappers have known whose house was his father’s? What did they steal?”
“Apparently, they only stole a map – his father is supposedly a Warrior – but they stole all sorts of things from his house, even clothes…”
Feimeach stopped listening at that point. A Guardian, a Warrior’s son, was missing, along with most of his household items and his father’s map… Feimeach could hardly believe what she was thinking. It couldn’t be… He was the last person to do such a thing… There was no way he was that stupid…
*****
Laoch hoisted his knapsack higher on his back. It was awfully heavy; he almost regretted packing so much. But, he reminded himself, they were all essential, he would never survive if he had left anything in his knapsack behind. He looked back down at the map in his hands. He felt a twinge of guilt just looking at it; he had never stolen anything before, especially not from his father. He stoically pushed the feeling away and continued studying the map, before glancing back up at the suns position. By his calculations, if he continued due West, he should reach the Tolok River, and the edge of Sult Forest, in just over a week. He stowed the map in the inside pocket of his thick brown cloak and continued on.