Authors: J.D. Caldwell
Zhiva approached her and reached out his hand. “Allow me to inspect your knife.” She handed it over, thinking nothing of it. But as she watched him, she could immediately see dissatisfaction in his face. “This is made well enough as a workhorse blade,” he said, turning it over and checking the edge with his finger, “but we don’t want a workhorse for a fight, we want a courser.”
He returned her knife, which she inspected herself in an attempt to decipher what he had seen wrong with it. Without looking, he reached around and pulled one of the ma
ny blades from his person. It was a knife, a kind Lyn had never seen before. It was a sight longer than hers, and had a slight curve to it. Taking it gingerly, Lyn looked up at him curiously. “This blade will handle much different. I will teach you.” Zhiva patted her on the shoulder and quirked a smile.
Within the first few minutes, Lyn learned first-hand how Zhiva had earned his championship. Zhiva’s logic was that Lyn was completely unexperienced in the realities of combat, and he wanted her to see exactl
y what she was up against. Lyn did not know people could hurt each other so quickly, nor so brutally. While Zhiva was careful not to permanently injure her, it did not detract from the many scrapes, bruises and knocks she got in the process of his lesson.
Zhiva reached down and picked Lyn from ground after it was over. “You have no natural inclination towards this, Lyn. It is not in the way you move. That means you will need to be especially careful and aware.”
Lyn flushed at the words, and was embarrassed by what must have seemed such a rudimentary and amateur display. Zhiva smiled knowingly and continued kindly, “But I have no doubt about your discipline and spirit. You always get up one more time than you are knocked down, and that counts for much in the world as a whole.” He brushed some remaining dirt from her back and shoulders and looked her in the eye. “You may never compete in the Arena, but never let anyone say you are weak and defenseless. Your spirit and dedication is your strength, and to not know this would be doing a disservice to yourself most of all. Embrace who you are and no one can ever stop you.”
--
Lyn spent much more time with the caravan under Zhiva’s tutelage than she had expected. But not just Zhiva; in the company of the guards and their nightly entertainment she learned the game of dice and art of drinking. The art, they insisted, was not so much in the drinking as the keeping it down the next day. After Lyn’s first few experiences, she had to agree.
She also spent some time with
Yusef, learning of the merchant routes and lay of the land. He suggested to her some of the best routes, and those to avoid. He also provided her with a map, and how to read it. The more she learned, the more she realized how underprepared she had been, and what a challenge the journey would be. She wondered at the lack of preparation; was it always so, that every Elder before her left the forest with such little knowledge and skill? Or had the decline of their culture and the lack of Elders thinned out their knowledge and ability to better prepare? She did not know, but one thing was becoming abundantly clear, and that was she had much to share once she returned to the woodland.
By the time she was ready to go her separate way, she had spent over a whole l
unar cycle in the company of the merchant caravan. She found that she was incredibly sad to leave them; in her time training with Zhiva she had found him to be a surprisingly patient and calm individual, and an excellent teacher. In the time she had spent training, she had grown exponentially and now had a solid foundation to work from. Alir had even taken a liking to Zhiva, and Zhiva had gotten much satisfaction from watching the great bird hunt and soar. Something about the majesty and primal grace of the raptor spoke to his soul, too, and Lyn had enjoyed sharing her companion with him.
Yusef had taken her under his wing and had quickly begun to treat her like his own daughter, and she was loathe to leave him as well. As she prepared for her departure, he peppered her with questions regarding her preparation, her food supply, her directions, her equipment, and everything else under the sun. She smiled and assured him over and over again that she was fine and ready as she was going to be.
“Well alright la
ss,” he said, “If you’re sure. You remember the pass I told you to avoid, right? Make sure you go east as soon as you see the chasm. And you’ll watch for bandits, won’t you? And make sure to bundle up at night; devilishly cold it is.”
Lyn chuckled to hers
elf and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll be fine, Yusef. Thank you so much for all you’ve done. For everything you have all done.”
She waved to the other caravan drivers and guards, and smiled in fond farewell. A chorus of goodbyes and well-wishes met her a
nd she turned away. Zhiva stood apart from the rest of the group, hands behind his back, patiently waiting for her beside a path leading up the foot of the mountain. The caravan’s way had not been direct to where she was going, but they had come steadily closer to the great mountains she would now be traveling through. Now that she was ready to make her way up the mountain, she felt a pang of nerves strike her. She was not sure why the mountains in particular felt more daunting than even her first city visit had been, but each step closer she came to leaving now-familiar ground felt heavier.
She met Zhiva’s eyes
and what she saw there gave her heart, understanding, and confidence. She remembered his words, that as long as she believed in herself and what she did, she would be fine. During a discussion on this topic one evening, Zhiva had brought up an invaluable point; despite all her trepidations, Lyn had been chosen for this. She may not understand exactly why, but she had been singled out, her alone, to accomplish this task. Moreover, her village had supported her and had not contended the decision to send her out into the world. Her people believed in her, and now that she had met some friends, she found they believed in her too.
Zhiva nodded to her and t
urned the corner of his mouth into a small smile. Lyn smiled in return, putting all she had in to it so she would believe it herself. The large swordsman looked her over, made sure her gear was in place and secured. He checked her knife edge to make sure it was keen, and pulled her bowstring to make sure it was taut.
Evidently satisfied with the state of her, he put a friendly hand on her should
er and said, “Remember what I said, Lyn. No matter what happens, or who you meet, believe in who you are and what you do. Some may not like it, but all will respect it.”
Overcome by a momentary surge of emotion, Lyn stepped forward and embraced him. Zhiva started, but returned her embrace and patted her on the head. “You can do this. The world is scary, yes, but it
is also a wide and wonderful place to search for glory and purpose. To be called to such an honorable venture is something you must take pride in.” Lyn nodded, but had no words to say.
It was different out here, meeting and befriending people. Somehow, ba
ck home, she had still taken things for granted: the support of her mother and her mentor Nana, her home among her familiar folk, the great forest that ever provided for them. Out here, nothing was a given, and she felt acutely aware of the nature of her responsibility. The friends she made, even if just for a short time, felt more real and intensely dear to her than she would have ever thought. Lyn felt a tear start in her eye, and she blinked fiercely, trying not to let Zhiva see. From above, Alir let out a cry and circled down, landing on a near-by stone and eyeing them.
The swordsman chuckled and procured a piece of dried meat. “No, friend, I have not forgotten to give my farewell to you, too.” The hawk took the treat and flapped his great wings in than
ks. “Watch over her for us, friend.” And with a final smile and nod, Zhiva set Lyn on her way.
Chapter 4
20
th
day, 9
th
lunar cycle, 700
th
age of Arc
“How diverse the world can be. My foray outside the wood began with hills and fields bereft of the dense trees I was used to. Now I make my way through stone and wind to a mountain range shrouded in mist. And it is not only the shape of the world that varies so, but those that occupy it. I have a hard time believing my own self how close one can become to people in such a short time, or conversely be so disillusioned by them in such short time. What a chaotic place this is indeed, to have such drastic fluctuations of emotions and lifestyle and surroundings. It lacks the constancy and stability of my familiar home, and while I miss the now-utopian sounding isolation and steadfast nature of my sheltered life in concept, I find I cannot go back to the simplicity of before. Life would seem less rich without the variance and unpredictability I have now been exposed to. Everything seems so much more vibrant and genuine when there is mystery about it. It is as if I had been living in a dream before, and now I am waking up. I just wish reality wasn’t nearly as chilly…”
It
did not take Lyn long to realize she had made a very big mistake indeed. That mistake came in the form of her decided lack of winter clothing. She had better blankets, thanks to Yusef, but she had definitely underestimated how cold this mountain would be. Snowfall was incredibly rare everywhere else in Arc, and it didn’t fall at all in the Southern Province. As such, overall preparedness for such inclement weather was low. The fog had thickened exponentially as she walked the path Zhiva had left her on, and visibility was low indeed until she broke through a layer of it and could finally see up the mountain.
What she saw took her breath away. The mountain range was huge, encompassing all she could see. It seemed the entire range was enclosed in the fog like a shell; within it she could see the mountain
as far as the falling snow would allow, but there was no seeing back where she had come from, or out to the horizon. It gave the impression of being in a completely separate world, much like her forest in that regard.
The thought both comforted and alarm
ed her; while she was safe and familiar with her forest and the isolation it provided, this seclusion was different and unfamiliar. The harsh wind blew and the bouts of snow caught her amidst their movement. She was used to the sounds of the forest, and the small silences therein, but here she experienced a strange new sensation of complete silence, a silence so profound it felt as if the world was holding its breath. Then the wind would howl through the stone and snow, swallowing the silence whole and overwhelming Lyn with its rushing sound. This part of the world felt primeval, untouched, and fierce. She wondered at the kind of people who would make this place their home. Alir seemed to be sharing her overall sentiment as he was huddled as small as he could get, pressed into her as much as he would go. To Lyn’s surprise, the snow that whirled around them did not seem to be sticking to the ground much, so despite Alir’s additional weight and the frigid air, Lyn made much more progress than she would have expected.
As darkness began to fall, Lyn found a large outcropping of rock that braced against the howling wind.
“This is as good a spot we’ll find as any, Alir. May as well stick it out, hey?” She talked softly to her companion as she laid out the makeshift camp. In her focused attempt to make progress throughout the day, she had forgotten to gather wood for a fire. So accustomed was she to the availability of fuel for the fire that she had taken for granted its availability now, but she was mistaken; there was no substantial amount to be had anywhere that Lyn could see nearby, and she was too cold and tired to go back out to seek some. Alir had a perch in the utmost recess of the rock formation, away from the wind. Lyn was jealous of his security against the weather, and stuck out her tongue at him. Unmoved, Alir merely blinked at her and tucked his head under his wing. Lyn tucked herself as deeply into her blankets as she could and curled up. She stared at the blank stone above her and wondered how long she would be in this place, alone in the cold.
She did not remember falling asleep, but she certainly remembered waking up. A snort and the sound of heavy breathing brought her to alertness and she sat up quickly, knife in hand. Close by her shelter, she s
pied a large moose and a calf. Her movement caught their attention, and they turned to look at her. Alir watched them soundlessly, no doubt hungry for fresh meat but understanding these were far too large for prey. Lyn was thinking similarly, but her concern faded as the pair languidly turned about and continued on their way. Lyn wasn’t sure what other wildlife awaited her in this harsh place, but she was glad to see that in this case at least, it was not something that wished to consume her.
This was usua
lly not a concern that crossed the young Druid’s thoughts. While the forest was rife with wildlife, some of which was predatory, she was just as much a part of the forest as they. Her people had a history of symbiotic relationships with the forest, which is one reason they were commonly referred to as Druids. But this was not her forest, and she did not know if her connection with the animals would keep her out of trouble here.
While Lyn prepared to move on, she felt something nagging in the back of her m
ind. She stopped to think and tried to put her finger on what it was. After a moment, she realized that the wind was gone, and the nagging feeling was the vast silence. Without the wind to interrupt these silences, it felt very quiet and secluded indeed. Even the forest had its bird calls and creaks of the trees. Such silence made Lyn uncomfortable; unaccustomed to the terrain as she was, her movement caused an inordinate amount of noise which gave her a distinct disadvantage.