The Battle for Earth (Part Three)
Master Warious finally talked to her inner circle and Dûncariel volunteered to go.
Commander Dûncariel – 7/13/2025
It had finally come.
As I walked down the steep slope of one of the high hills concealing our encampment, I could not help feeling just a little excited. We were finally making a move.
I was alone in my charge. It had been decided early on that stealth would be more productive than strength in the long run. I must admit that I would be more comfortable, say, if Bob were with me. But it seemed that for this battle at least we find ourselves on separate sides of the playing field. For this, at least, his Master's call takes precedence over even our friendship. The Wraith is right. He could do no different, and I won't hold it against him. Though I would feel better if he were along.
I walked for the better part of the day before the hills began to level out. On the horizon I could see the eaves of a great Wood, dark and foreboding in the distance. It grew darker and more disconcerting as my feet drew me inexorably towards it – great trees and gnarled branches beckoning me forward with crooked fingers.
It began to grow darker as the Wood drew closer and closer, and I pulled my dark cloak tighter around my shoulders. The trees were quite disconcerting – ominous and creepy-like. Old Man Willow Trees.
There was no path through the scrubby undergrowth, so I made my own until I was a good ways into the Wood's outer edge, and I had found my camp site. It was a large Pine, one of the only ones in the Wood, with cone-laden braches that hung to the ground. Underneath those branches I could stay without anyone knowing I was there.
Unless they were smarter than me, that is.
I lit a small fire and sat down next to it, pulling out my worn journal – an old habit. As I sat writing, I heard a noise that sounded oddly like a foot stepping lightly on a twig. Being a generally laid back sort of person, I thought nothing more of it.
Until I head it again.
I had been right. The only thing that made that sound was an unwary foot sneaking up on my not-so-well-hidden-as-I-thought camp site. Being the brave person that I am, I did the first thing that came to mind – imagine the worst. Then, of course, assure myself.
"It's just a squirrel," I muttered into my dying fire. "A squirrel."
Then I stood up and pulled back the branches of the tree…. And dropped them with a rather courageous squeak. That face belonged to no squirrel.
Between me and the yellow eyed thing was a tree branch. I thought about putting out my fire, but decided that it was probably too late, and that I didn't want to meet it in the dark. A tree branch. That was it. A tree branch.
At least I didn't squeak again when the branches rustled. All I did was fall over. At that moment I could have laughed. If there weren't a rather frighteningly real yellow-eyed tall thing on the other side of the tree branches. It seemed I was doing a better job at being the squirrel than whatever was outside my tree.
From my back on the ground I had a pretty good view of the fellow who came from without. He was tall and lithe, and gave the immediate impression of a drawn bow. There was something inhuman about the way he moved, something almost cat-like. When he stood – even slightly bent as he was – his head brushed the branches that easily cleared my head when I stood straight up. He had to be a good six inches taller than me, at the very least. And his hair – tied at the back of his head in an intricate braid – was pure white.
Then I realized what he was.
"Tunikeda'ya," I whispered, awe struck. "You're a Sitha."
He looked back at me, still flat on the ground, and grinned. Which was quite as disconcerting as everything else about him. I nearly squeaked again. Instead I attempted an odd sort of crab walk backwards, and only succeeded in whacking my head on the tree trunk.
I only know one phrase in Sitha – T'si im t'si – blood for blood. Which wasn't quite appropriate. I used to be able to say 'For the shared blood of our ancestors', but since I'm not Sithi, it wouldn't work even if I did remember how.
I could just smile shakily and hope that this fellow could understand common.
Never taking my eyes off the Sitha, I sat up and put my back to the tree. My staff was lying by the fire, and could do me no good unless it were in my hand, so I put it out of my mind.
"Do you understand Common?" I asked, unsure of what this frightfully real incarnation of a favorite author had in mind.
He nodded, though it had a strange quality to it – something not quite human. Then he glanced back at the wall of branches from which he had come, and a nearly imperceptible shudder passed through his body. There was something in his eyes that flashed for a brief moment, then was gone. Something very like fear.
"This is no safe place for the Sudhoda'ya . The Woods have grown dark." He spoke with an odd slur that betrayed hi heritage, but his common was much better than my grasp of his language.
"There is no safe place," I replied, perhaps a little sharper than I should. "War is upon the land, and I hide under trees." That may have been a little bitter, as well.
He seemed to take that as an apt explanation, though I thought it a bit lacking. "This tree," He gestured vaguely upward, including all of the sweeping branches in that one motion, "is no safer than outside. Your only safety is in movement."
His sincerity took me slightly off guard, and I sat there for long seconds before I had an answer. "I have been afoot this whole day, and I need the light of the sun to find my way through this Wood. For me, movement could mean death." I paused a moment. "Honestly, I believe I would like to live."
As before, he seemed to take my brief explanation at face value. And his answer surprised me. "Then you shall have to come with me."
"I cannot come with you," I said, my voice a little shaky. "I am looking for someone. For a few someones. It is very important." I sat up a little taller. "And I can protect myself."
The sound that he made could have been laughter, but that it came from that virtually emotionless face. When he spoke, however, his voice was tinged with amusement.
"You may wish to put out your fire, then. There is a hole in the branches of this noble tree, and you have given the ones who would hunt you a beacon to guide them. And, if you were as intelligent as you would believe yourself to be, you would follow me."
I tried not to grimace. Or kick him, though it was tempting. "Well then, if you say so." I stood up with the most grace that I could manage. Standing, my head did not quite reach his shoulder.
He seemed surprised that I would give in so easily – as if he had expected to have to pack me out from under the branches slung over his shoulder. The resulting mental picture brought a small smile to my lips, though it dissolved when I though about it again. He was, in fact, a head and a half taller than me.
Within moments my small fire was extinguished, and beneath the tree it was dark as pitch. Staff in hand, I followed the sound of his movement from beneath my tree into the darkest night I had ever seen.
It was well that I could hear his footfalls, because I could not see my hand when I waved it in front of my face. The only things slightly visible were the stalk-like silhouettes of the trees.
I don't know how long we moved deeper through the endless lines of trees, but to my already sore feet it felt like hours. The monotonous black suddenly gave way to a beautiful starlit clearing; emerald grasses swaying with the slight breeze that floated across the open space. The air was clear, and stars that had before been hidden by the black canopy now glittered with sudden intensity, as to make up for their earlier absence.
"It is beautiful," I breathed at last, afraid to break the spell at work beneath the new sparkling canopy. "It is the most beautiful thing in the world." All of my previous fears and suspicions were forgotten under the light of the fledgling moon.
At first I did not notice him standing there beside me, not until he spoke. "You told little of your purpose in these woods," so he had noticed…"but I think that you let more than you meant into your words. Who is it you are in search of? The need no doubt is great."
It was apparent that he expected me to answer him, though I wasn't quite sure what to say. Silence reigned for a time, as I fought to find the right words that would not entirely reveal my purpose.
"I search for the hope of the world." So much for not revealing my purpose. "War is upon this land, and others, and those who would stand against it are too few. We would not see our homes fall under a darkness that would not fade with the coming of the sun. So I search." I switched my staff from hand to hand, stalling for time and better words. Neither came so I stared up at the stars and waited.
"Your search, I think, has not been in vain."
I pulled my eyes away from the stars and stared hard at his face. It struck me then that I knew next to nothing about him. Not even his name.
"It has only yet begun…" I left the thought open, hoping for more from this bing who's name I had yet to learn.
"There is a people who would stand beside you." The stars lit his eyes; eyes that should belong to a cat. "I can take you to them. It is not far."
