My aunt is always telling me that I'm a nomad of the mind. She says I'm easily distracted and never pay attention when I really should. When I walk with uncle to the garden every morning he often tries to educate me on the "voices of the forest". Now I listen. I really do. I can easily tell you that each and every tree has a different personality and each and every leaf a whisper of its own. I can tell you that the fairies only come out to play on cool evenings when a tune is being hummed, or that a Felroot is deadlier to eat than a Pricklepine, despite their deceiving names. Uncle tells me these kinds of things offhandedly, not expecting me to remember. But I do remember. I remember everything. At times it may not seem like I'm paying attention, but, truly, I always am. I just like to think when I'm listening. Thinking helps me sort this from that, old from new, before from after, and a good many other things. I guess that's why aunt Belif uses such a way to describe my process of thought. I don't look like I'm listening, but, nevertheless, I'm walking one thousand miles in my head just to lay down all the footprints. She calls me a nomad. And me? Well, I generally just call that ADD.
Aunt Belif also tells me I'm a lot like mama. Now I don't remember much about mama, but I do know she was a hero for our people. You can't get far around the village without hearing someone mention her name, even if it's just a remnant of a fleeting topic. She was an amazing huntress, one of the very best. Even the great king himself knows of the prowess she had once possessed. Well, I can't say that for sure, but rumors do spread quite quickly in this tiny town. My dad, on the other hand, is an absolute mystery. Nobody knows who he was or where he went. Sometimes I catch uncle muttering about whether or not the "damn fool" is going to come and pick up his poor child. It's a little demeaning on his part, and also on mine since I'm his flesh and blood. However, I'm nearly certain my father was a good man. After all, he fell in love with my wonderful mother, didn't he?
Every now and again I find myself sitting out by the stone wall that borders the dirt path leading out of the entrance to DuskenVale, my home, our village. Like I said, it's small, but the life within it greatly makes up for its size. The people here are gentlefolk. They're also creative, witty, and downright comical when you figure out what sets their steam blowing. The old man that tends to the flowers, for example, entertained me for a full hour and a half once by cursing and throwing dirt wads at me when I replaced his carefully picked Cosmos with drooping Bumblesprouts. I think he hates me now. Every time I see him his thick, gray eyebrows droop down low over his thin, crinkled eyes. That old man's got a killer glare. I don't usually bug people, though. In fact, I'm known as the "little blossom" around here. More often than not, people smile when they see me, and that makes me feel pretty good about myself. I'm liked because I'm likable…or is it because I'm my mother's daughter? Does it even matter why or who or how? Lately, I've been thinking a lot more than usual. I've been thinking about becoming a real life nomad.
Wouldn't it be great to leave here and travel? Wouldn't it be wonderful to see the world? Maybe I could even make a name for myself, like mama did. I could be a warrior. No, a huntress like her! Or maybe even a rogue. I've never been stealthy enough for that, though. Still, if I were out there, learning about more things, better things, I'd… Well, I'd make an adventure for myself. I'd make traveling buddies and form a group and conquer new worlds and I'd find my dad and people would call me-
"There you are, Hum! It's well past dinner time you know."
Well speak of the devil… I glanced down from where I crouched upon a low branch in one of the purple-leafed trees that bordered the fence by the entrance gate. Aunt Belif was giving me quite the nasty look. One of her pale, slender brows was arched questioningly while the other pinched down a bit, giving her that familiar, irritated look I have come to depict her by. Her hands were on her hips. Ah, I knew that posture all too well. I'm about to get an earful. Making an attempt at dodging the inevitable, I gave her a sweet smile.
"I'm aware aunt Belif. I was just about to be on my way back."
Hands tightened on hips and a head of snowy white hair lifted up higher in disdain.
"On your merry way, I'm sure. You look ready to eat a stag, poor girl." The sarcasm dripped from her lips like venom.
However, I merely pouted in response. Her glare hardened. We entered into a sort of half-hearted staring contest that only lasted until aunt Belif became fed up with my lack of a proper response. She's never really been a patient person. That's one big difference between her and my mother. Mama was praised highly for her endless patience.
"Hummingmoon Dawnweaver, I am this close to-" I growled at the use of my full name and made a face at the pinched fingers my aunt was holding up.
"Alright already, I get it. Food. Eat. Sustenance."
The elder elf shook her head in exasperation but didn't hesitate to lift a hand to help me down. Her fingers rose to rest upon my shoulder as we began our trek back to the cottage. A somewhat curious look was thrown my way several times before aunt Belif mustered up the pride to actually ask me a question.
"Just what are you doing up there every day in that tree? It can't be too exciting to act as a bird."
I huffed and crossed my arms.
"I'm not acting as a bird! I'm just…well, I'm looking I guess."
Incredulity overtook curiosity.
"Whatever for?"
I tilted my head to regard her, wondering. I can't possibly be the only one who's searched for something greater, something beyond this tiny village that's hidden from the rest of the world. It's way too cramped here. It's too gloomy. It's too suffocating. It's too familiar. I want to experience, to learn, and to discover. I want to see things that I've only heard about in the stories that are told by the occasional traveling merchant. Even if I didn't exactly follow in mama's footsteps, I'd at least like to step outside of the boundary that I've been enclosed in my whole life.
"Everything that's not here."
"DuskenVale is a wonderful place, Hum. You're lucky to be-"
"Yeah, I know. I'm lucky to be living here…but that's not what I meant."
"Don't interrupt, it's rude," aunt Belif paused for a few beats before passing a quick tongue over her lips and continuing, "What did you mean then?"
"I meant that I want to travel from here, to see the rest of the world."
The elder elf stopped in her tracks and whirled me around by the shoulder so that we were face-to-face. I blinked owlishly as dim, golden eyes bore into mine solemnly.
"Hummingmoon, I wish for you not to think that way. The world outside of here is dangerous. It's filled with beasts and people that are far stronger, far more cynical that either you or I. Do you understand?"
"But-"
"No 'but's!"
I jerked away from her grasp angrily and stormed back towards the cottage, forcing her to trail behind me uncertainly. Who is she to keep me here? Who is she to deny me my freedom? All she ever says is 'it's too dangerous' and 'life's not fair', but, really, I'm the one who should be making these decisions on my own. I slammed open the front door of the cottage so heavily that my uncle started violently from where he had been napping in his rocker on the far side of the kitchen. His eyes swiveled to ogle in my direction as I stuck my tongue out at him and stomped my way up the stairs. Partially, it's his fault too, I suppose. Upon entering my clustered room, I dropped face-first onto my bed, rejoicing in a small sort of relief that arose from the soothing feel of silken sheets against my skin. If only I could fall asleep and enter into a 'good' dream. You know, the ones where you wish you would never wake up from? I love those kinds of dreams.
"Do I even want to know what that dramatic entrance was all about?" I could hear uncle's muffled voice from the kitchen below.
"You know how children her age are. She's just being rebellious," aunt Belief responded, her voice a little softer than uncle's.
"That's the most rebellion I've ever seen exist in one being then. She could probably lead an army with those weird fits she has."
"There not fits," I grumbled to myself absentmindedly.
"Don't even joke about that, Wyrvik. Just earlier she was talking as if that's exactly what she wanted to do," aunt continued.
"Oh, how so?"
I crawled forward across the bedspread and grabbed my pillow so that I could wrap it around either side of my head. I don't need to hear this again. Uncle agrees with aunt Belif, so there's no reason why I should try to explain to either of them. My yearning to change my lifestyle, to change myself, is so strong that I would do anything to follow through with it. Even if that meant lying or stealing or cheating or…escaping. I caught my breath at the same time my heart skipped a beat. Escape? Could I do that? Should I do that? Slowly, I removed the pillow from my ears and rolled over onto my left side to look out the pane-less window to my right. It's so simple. How could I not have thought of it before? All I need to do is climb out and head through the village purposefully. No one would question me. Then I could climb my tree and hop over the fence…
"Humming? Are you in there?" I jumped at the proximity of uncle's voice and sat up to glare at the door to my room accusingly.
I considered not answering for a moment but then thought better of it.
"Yeah."
The door opened softly and my uncle peeked in.
"Can I come in?"
A sigh escaped me.
"Might as well since your heads already in."
He smirked and opened the door the rest of the way before glancing back and closing it behind him. The bottoms of his doe skin boots thumped gently against the wooden floor as he made his way to my bed. He didn't hesitate to sit down beside me. I swallowed. He gave me a look, one that we both understood, and I chewed at my bottom lip tentatively. Instead of chastising me on my silence like aunt Belif did, however, he carefully reached over and brushed calloused, purple fingers through my moonlit hair. He caught my eye, which was just as silver as his, and curved one side of his mouth up humorously. I translated the unspoken question, 'may I?', and gave a quick nod of permission and turned so that he had full access to my waist-length locks. He ran his fingers through it repeatedly, combing it out, and then slowly but surely began braiding it. A long exhale of breath escaped his nose as he worked.
"So, you want to be an adventurer do you?"
I tensed beneath his touch. His ever careful eyes didn't miss the movement.
"Well, there's nothing really odd about that, I suppose. After all, your mother was exactly the same way and, believe it or not, so was Belif." His voice was thickly laced with a sort of distant amusement, as if he were caught up in an old memory.
Curious, I turned my head, only to have it be pushed back into place.
"You're not allowed to move until I'm finished." It wasn't a question
Sticking out my lower lip in self-pity, I ruefully complied. Uncle Wyrvik chuckled, his hands weaving gracefully behind me.
"I'm about to tell you something that your dear aunt would probably have my head for," he jerked a little on a strand of my hair, "you'll keep it a secret, won't you?"
I scoffed and lifted a hand to trace an 'X' over my chest.
"Cross my heart and hope to die."
He jerked harder, eliciting a yelp from me.
"Alright already, I get it. I swear I won't breathe a word, uncle." I was honest too.
He seemed to contemplate my answer for a moment before diligently pressing on with his task.
"Good girl," I could hear the smile in his voice, "Elune behold, you remind me so much of Felrynn, Hum."
My brow furrowed.
"Felrynn?"
His hands paused for a second.
"Your mother."
I made a small 'O' shape with my mouth and then fell silent. Uncle's tugging and pulling became very gentle after that.
"I doubt Belif has told you anything. She's so bent on keeping you in her little bubble of protection that she doesn't even notice your desire to be your own sort of person. Good thing you've got me to talk to though, hm? Otherwise you probably would've gone mad by now." He chuckled again.
I grunted in agreement. Well, at least he's aware. Though, I felt myself stiffen again when uncle's laughter trailed off into a weary sigh.
"So, I'm sure this is the first time you've heard…but, well, I should probably admit that I loved your mother, Hum."
I nearly tore myself away from him in order to turn around and stare at him in astonishment. He merely held on to the end of my hair loosely and responded to my look with a guilty smile.
"You…my mother…you both loved-"
"She never loved me back, of course," uncle quickly supplied, "She had already fallen for your father by the time I revealed my feelings."
I blinked once. Then twice. Then I leaned forward, excitedly.
"My father?! You knew him?"
Uncle lifted a hand to cover my mouth and threw a fleeting glance at the closed door. Realizing my mistake, I ducked my head apologetically and repositioned myself so that he could continue with my braid.
"I knew of him," his voice was nearly a whisper, "I'll admit he was a charming fellow, an experienced druid that went by the name of Ceradus."
"Ceradus." I rolled the name off of my tongue experimentally and felt a smile creep its way across my face.
Uncle caught my expression and snorted.
"Though you have your mother's dashing hair and grace, I can clearly see your father in that wild grin of yours."
My lips only stretched further at that. My inquisitiveness at its peak, I questioned him further.
"What was he like?"
"Well, I only met him a few times, and they were short-lived at that, but he was what one would call a 'dare-devil'. He wasn't afraid to take a risk and always laughed in the face of danger. He was a hero, no doubt about it, but he was also very much infatuated with Felrynn as well. Being the handsome, strong elf that he was, though, he had no trouble winning over her heart." Uncle frowned a bit at that last part but perked up when he saw me searching his face worriedly.
"Worry you not, Hum, I'm very much taken by Belif. I'll probably never completely lose the feelings that I had for your mother, but I certainly found new love with your delightful aunt. Felrynn and Ceradus made quite the pair. They were an unstoppable duo with matching hearts of courage and a strong desire for adventure," he quirked a grin at me, "much like someone else I know."
I laughed and stood up as uncle finished tying off the end of my braid. He made a small motion for me to twirl, and I did so. His expression became one of satisfaction as he rose from the bed and placed a hand on my head. I looked up at him. He looked down at me. Then he said something, a single word that completely flipped my world upside-down.
"Go."
My brow furrowed. He couldn't possibly mean… The large hand fell to my shoulder and tightened considerably.
"Hummingmoon Dawnweaver," I grew serious at the full use of my name, "I'm giving you my consent. Go and do what you want to do. Be what you want to be. Elune, Belif will probably slaughter me for sending you off, but if I don't, then you will never get to leave."
I searched his face, trying to depict some sort of hint that he was messing with me. However, his eyes shone with the utmost sincerity. So, it was only natural that I stumbled upon my disbelief.
"Go? I can go? You mean like…leave DuskenVale?" It was still so impossibly hard to believe.
Amusement tugged at his lips.
"And travel to where ever you desire to go. I want you to be happy, Hum, so I won't hold you back from experiencing what it means to live."
That was it. He said it all, everything I ever dreamed about hearing. So much for plans of escaping. So much for feeling guilty when I began to prepare my methods of sneaking out. I just couldn't contain my overflowing gratitude at this point. I threw my arms around uncle's waist and buried my head in his chest to hide the vulnerable amazement that had begun to leak from the corners of my eyes. His strong arms wrapped around me in response, vaguely reminding me that uncle, too, had experienced his good share of battles and struggles outside of this little village we called 'home'. He knew what I was going to face, yet he was releasing me into the very world that had fought against him. And it was all because I wanted to go.