Tarna: Part III

Leif claimed the village was less than a day’s journey away, but they hadn’t left until late afternoon, so they wouldn’t get there until the next day. Deep, golden sunlight filtered through the leaves above, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. The pair walked on wide paths created by deeply buried roots as birds sang their evening songs in the canopy high above. Lightflowers twinkled in the bushes as evening cast its shadow over them.

Tarna followed Leif closely as the shadows grew longer, unfamiliar with the deep part of the forest. The woods closest to Aeritha were sparse, with many paths and meadows to explore. The trees grew denser the further from the City they got, and thick brush lined the root paths. Leif had said to keep to the paths, and Tarna had no intention of disobeying that particular suggestion.

Her guide chattered on about life in the village as he walked, seemingly oblivious to the darkening forest around him. “We all build our own huts - I’ll help you with yours, of course - and they aren’t big but I have to say, mine is a work of art. I used to spend a lot of time on it, but I just haven’t had the time recently. Oh, you’ll just love it there. It isn’t the City, of course, but in our little village we are free,” he said proudly.

“What do you mean? We’re free in the City,” Tarna interjected, confusion creasing her brow.

Leif scoffed. “Free? The Oracle controls everything in Aeritha; she knows every aspect of your life, and subtly bends every person there to her will. That’s really why I was banished; that’s why most of us were banished: we wouldn’t bend. Out here though, we can do whatever we want, whenever we want. We have our own things, not things that the Oracle saw fit to bequeath us. What the Oracle giveth, she taketh away, as I’m sure you noticed. No, I’m glad that old witch kicked me out. Besides, Tarna, what exactly do you think you’re free from in the City?”

“Tyranny,” Tarna said confidently. “I’ve read many books about the kings of old. They demanded taxes and labor and undivided loyalty for practically nothing in return. The Oracle gives us so much and asks for little in return. She freed our ancestors from the villainy of the ancient kings - you should be grateful to her!”

“Whatever, dearie. You’ll see, with time. I’m surprised you still love her so much, what with her banishing you and all.”

Tarna sniffed. “Yes, well, she did what she thought best, of course. She knows everything, our beloved Oracle. She guides us and protects us and l-”

“Loves you? Good luck convincing me of that one.”

“You’re just bitter.”

Leif stopped short, and Tarna looked back at him. He gestured to himself and asked, “Do I look bitter to you?”

Tarna stared at him, taking in his crinkled eyes and kindly smile. His dark clothes blended into the shadows, making his creased cheeks almost appear to be a branch of some tree. Leif was a part of the forest, nothing at all like the rest of the Aerithans she had known all her life.

“No, I suppose not. How long ago were you banished again?”

Leif turned back to the path and started walking. “A long time ago. Now let’s find somewhere to camp before it gets much darker. We wouldn’t want any creepy crawly creatures trying to get a nip at you before you see my beautiful home!”

He walked a few more minutes before stopping and proclaiming the space between two large root structures as their campsite. Tarna eyed the area sceptically. It didn’t seem to be any different from the rest of the rootway they had been following, but Leif was settling himself into a large dip below one of the roots.

Tarna stooped to look under the other root and quickly pulled back. “Won’t there be bugs? And what about avos? Don’t they live in holes like this? I read about them a few months ago in Aero’s Creatures of the Wood. They strangle their prey while it is asleep with their tentacles - you just never wake up!”

Leif eyed her over the fire he had been building in a wide hole in the ground. “You read too much,” he said before blowing on the small flame in front of him.

“Read too much? That was my Call - I was almost done with my apprenticeship as an Archivist before...” Tarna trailed off, staring back the way they had come. Master Lirin had been more than just a mentor; he had been a friend. She missed him almost as much as she did her books.

Tarna turned back to the fire. “Master Leif, are there any books in the Village?”

“Master? Pshaw. Well, if you count journals and such. How exactly would we have anything else? We aren’t exactly welcomed with open arms into the Archives.”

Tarna blushed. “I guess I just thought... well, never mind.” She paused. Leif almost didn’t see the determination in her eyes before it faded in the flickering light of the fire.

“You can’t go back, Tarna.”

“I know.”

Leif let it go. He pulled a beat up pan and some roots out of his bag and set the pan over the fire with some fat from a vial in his pocket. Before long, the fat began to sizzle, and Leif dropped in the roots. “So, you were going to be an archivist you say?” he said after a while.

“Oh, yes. Under the head archivist - Master Lirin.”

“Old Lirin? I remember him, always puttering around the archive with a book to his nose. I didn’t think he actually spoke to anyone.”

Tarna laughed. “He isn’t very social, but he’s very wise. I think he knows more than anyone else in the City, except the Oracle of course. We were very close.”

“Close? As in...”

Tarna blushed again, her pale skin red to the roots of the dark fuzz on her head. “Nothing like that! He was my friend - my only real friend.”

“Ah. Real friends. I didn’t know those existed in Aeritha. Everyone is about their own business, with no time for anyone else. I would have thought that of all people, Lirin would have the least time for another human being.”

“Oh, no, he’s not like that at all. Sure, he’s usually buried in a book, but he really listens. He cares about me.”

“Cared about you, you mean.”

Tarna stared at the man.

Leif took the pan off the fire and set it on the ground beside him. He pulled out two rather well-made plates from his worn leather bag, and divided the roots between them with a pair of pronged sticks. He handed a plate with one of the sticks to Tarna, then began to devour his own roots.

“So, did you have a family back in the City?” Leif asked in between bites.

Tarna took a small bite of the long, blue roots in front of her. They turned out to be rather spicy and delicious. Tarna took another large bite before answering, “yes, of course. My parents both study the plants in the forest, and my sister, Maera, cultivates food. My brother Lythan is a devotee of the Oracle of high rank. I haven’t seen him very much since he was raised as a High Servant of the Lady. I didn’t see any of them much.”

“Wow, a High Servant. Your parents must be very proud.”

“Oh, yes. They were proud of me too, apprenticing with the High Archivist. I would have become the High Archivist myself, Keeper of all Knowledge in Aeritha, one day.”

Tarna began to cry, loud sobs jerking her body. Leif stared across the fire as she cried, concern and sadness etching his face. He moved around the fire towards Tarna and put his arm around her shaking shoulders. Leif pulled her close, and whispered, “I know, I miss it sometimes. It was my home, too.”

The pair sat together, rocking in the fading light of the fire. Tarna’s sobs turned into whimpers as she fell asleep against Leif’s chest.