A Lesson In Forestry - Sound Guidance

[Loxiel]

Loxiel shifted uncomfortably ... Why was she staring at him like that?

It had been some weeks since he his little "adventure" into the wilds, and though he ought to have felt some pride in escaping the attack of one of the undead, and whatever beast had tried to get to him as he had rested in the nook of a tree branch, he had the feeling that his being able to get so lost, and to finally find his way back to the city had really been pure luck; and he could not rely on luck to save him. The young changeling needed skill.

The Kerasoka Elves were a marvel to Loxiel. They did not use magic, and yet they seemed almost fearless in their excursions into the wild forests surrounding Khy'eras. They moved with grace and elegance, but it was almost aggressive. They didn't float around the forests; they navigated it with skill and proficiency. He had seen them leap from branch to branch with an ease that had left him in awe.

And so, here he was. After a hearty lunch at one of the community kitchens, he had summoned the courage to head towards a resting spot for the city's guard. It was intimidating, to say the least, and when he finally plucked up the courage to speak to one of them (an Elven man with long, curved sword), he was directed to another of the group, another Elf, again with beautiful, almost tribal tattoos on her exposed flesh.

It was she who was currently looking at him, as if assessing him. It seemed an age before she spoke. "You're too old." She said, after what seemed like an eternity.

That certainly surprised him! "But I'm only 16!" He protested.

She didn't turn back. Instead she produced a rag from a bag on the floor and began to wipe down an ornate dagger from a sheath at her waist. "Exactly. You ought to have been trained in such matters years ago; you would have absorbed them better. It will take you longer to learn how to navigate the wilds at your current age."

This only caused Loxiel to feel frustrated at this dismissal. "I need to do this. I have to learn how to survive out there, and you are my best chance. The skills of the Kerasoka are legendary and ..."

The Elf gave a short laugh. "I don't respond to flattery. But nice try, young one." She glanced back at him. "Though I am curious; why do you so desperately want to learn these skills?"

Loxiel's head dropped slightly. "I ... I went out on my own and got lost." He said, embarrassed. "I nearly got eaten by an undead and some kind of beast. I barely made it back in ..."

"Oh!" She said, turning to him. "You're that boy who was picked up by one of the night watches. One of Karya's young ones." She gave a small smile. "Yes; I have heard of you. I did wonder, when I heard the news, if you were either a fool or had simply over-reached. Though the line between the two is very thin."

Loxiel flushed at that. So people had been talking about him? "I found my way back though!"

"You did," she conceded. "Full of cuts and bruises, barely conscious, and bed bound for a week.." She shook her head and smiled, mockingly. "Do you want me to congratulate you?"

Though she might be superior to him in every way, Loxiel still had some sense of pride, and his hands clenched into fists. "I don't want anything like that! I want to learn how to survive! I was told you were the best teacher, but if teaching a 16 year old is beyond you, I shall look elsewhere." His heartbeat quickened at that; what was he thinking, talking to an elder and superior like that?

Her response surprised him, however, as she let out a long laugh. "Well, you have spirit, I will give you that much at least. I don't respond well to goading or insults, but I suppose my words might have been a little too cutting." She turned to face him, her deep green eyes looking into his. "Let us see what you can do, and then we shall see if you are worth my time."

Loxiel looked at her with surprise. "So you'll train me?"

She laughed again. "I never said that." She gave a flick of her head, indicating that she should follow him. "Let's begin. I have a few hours before my next watch, so consider this an assessment." She turned and began to walk away, not even looking back to see if he was following. "My name is Inya. Let's see if you can keep up, boy."

***
It had taken less than a minute before he had lost her.

Loxiel and the Elf had moved out beyond the city's immediate perimeter (Loxiel felt a bit of nerves, considering the last time he had done this, he had almost been killed!), before Inya stopped, looking around. Loxiel stood silent as she looked this way and that, scanning the dense foliage. After a while, she seemed satisfied. "We should begin."

Loxiel looked at her. "What are we going to do?"

She gave him a sidelong glance and sly smile. "Just keep up!" And then she was off.

It was almost amazing at how she moved. With a leap, she had hold of a tree branch, and with a swing, she vanished into the dense forest..

Loxiel cursed and set off at a run in the direction she had headed, trying to listen for a tell-tale rustle of leaves, or see a disturbance in the branches. A pearl of amused laughter was the last thing he had heard before he stopped running and pushing through the brush, before stopping and sighing in disappointment. He had lost her within two minutes, at the very most; she would never train him now.

But ... he did have one trick up his sleeve.

Jumping forth, his form shifted and he was suddenly airborne ... or rather he was darting this way and that as he navigated the trees and branches, searching for signs of her. His heightened sense of sight was his best chance, though he still had no idea in which direction Inya had ... wait. He brought his wings up and forward, slowing his speed until he came to a stop, flapping slowly down onto a branch. His sharp eyes noticed a movement close by; a shape. Could it be?

A shocked screech escaped him, as from the dense leaves a dagger shot forth and buried itself inches away from Loxiel's hawk form, into the tree in which he was perched. Inya too emerged, walking slowly out of the foliage on a branch, each graceful movement precise, and she looked entirely at ease walking on such a narrow surface. "A hawk?" She said, stopping a few metres away. "All that flapping was bound to draw my attention, and then attention of any other being out here."

Loxiel shifted back, grabbing onto the branch he had with both hands. He looked up to her, crestfallen. "It's the only form I know. I am working on another, but ..."

"How long," she interrupted him. "Can you maintain that form?"

"A couple of hours. If I am well fed and rested." He said, a little despondently. "I'll be able to hold it for longer as I get older, but ..."

"I am hardly going to wait until you are older, now, am I?" She nodded towards him. "Toss me my dagger."

Loxiel nodded his assent, and, with only a little difficulty, he pulled the dagger from the trunk of the tree. As he did, he stared down at it. he had never held a weapon before, and he couldn't help but admire it. Not just its beauty, but how it felt in his hand. The weight of it, the grip ... it felt like it belonged there. After a moment, he realised he was just staring at it, he cleared his throat and looked up. "Sorry," he said, and tossed the dagger to her, which of course she caught easily.

"No need to apologise," she said, before easing down to a sitting position. "You can always tell when someone finds a weapon they have some ... affinity for." She put the dagger back in her sheath. "Do you own a blade of your own, boy?"

"No. That's the first time I have ever held one."

"Hmm. Perhaps you should remedy that. Of course you'd need to give something in return if you were to acquire one; and good blades don't come cheap."

Loxiel shook his head. "I don't have anything that I could give in exchange for a blade as fine as yours."

Inya smiled. "Of course not! This blade is very old, and has been with my clan for a long time. But a good, strong, well balanced dagger, however rustic and basic it might seem, can be an invaluable tool in the hands of someone who knows how to use it."

Loxiel looked up. "Will you train me how to use one?" He asked, excitedly.

This made the Elf laugh; a long silvery sound. But she shook her head. "Of course not. I'm here to teach you how to navigate a forest; not to take on the undead! One must take the first step before he can reach the fifth. If you try and get ahead of yourself, you will fail. If you do not know your surroundings, you will fail. And if you can't even find your way home ... you will die."

The changeling hung his head, but only for a moment. She said she was 'here to teach me'! "So you will help me?"

Inya smiled at him.

***

"It really is very simple," Inya told him as they made their way through the forest. "To find your way home, you must simply retrace your steps." They had been walking for some time, occasionally changing direction, but always away from the city. "You must spot the evidence you leave behind; a footprint, though the moss here bounces back quite quickly, so you must look for other clues; a snapped twig on the floor, a bush whose leaves have been disturbed ... you could leave deliberate clues, but you run the risk of an enemy taking advantage of such obvious markers."

After about half an hour, Inya stopped. "Between the two of us, we should have left enough evidence behind that finding your way back should be relatively easy." From her belt she pulled out a long piece of cloth. "But we can't make it too easy."

Loxiel knew what she was going to do, and stood still and compliant as she fastened the cloth over his eyes. She took his hand, and they walked a little further, though this time, every few steps, she would turn him around in circles a few times, then carry on. After about five times of this, she spoke up. "I will leave you now. You will find your way back to the city following any markers we might have left. Keep the blindfold on for 30 seconds, and remember; no shifting."

"Hmm ... okay." Loxiel said, and began to count. He could tell right away that she had taken off. Would she simply leave him, or observe him from afar? The latter was likely true ... at least he hoped so. 29, 30..

Taking the blindfold off, he rubbed his eyes and put the cloth in his belt. For a while he looked around. The forest seemed ... well, he couldn't see anything that would mark the direction they had walked. If he shifted he would have sharper eyes, but ... "No shifting". He sighed. "Fine," he grumbled, and began to slowly examine his surroundings. It felt like an age before he found anything; a low having vine that had a few leaves missing from it. He smiled.

As he took a step forward, a voice called out from somewhere behind him. "Wrong!"

Inya. By the .... Loxiel could see only this one clue; surely it had to be the way.

"Look a little closer and you will see the reason why you are so terribly wrong, boy."

He scowled, but did as he was told. For a moment, he did as he was told, but could find nothing until .. a few hairs clung to the vine. "Hairs ..." he said to himself. Then: "Hairs?" He said, louder.

"Very good!" She sounded amused, and her position had changed. "A bear, I had reckoned when I saw it. Just because there are disturbances, does not mean they were made my you, and following the wrong trail might lead you to your death, boy. Now; keep looking."

Sighing, he carried on his search.

***

Inya turned out to be patient. When he had finally spotted a patch of leaves on a sprawling bush facing the wrong way, he took a few steps in that direction, Loxiel kept waiting for the "wrong!" to be called out. But nothing was said, and so he carried on.

It might have taken them only half an hour to get here, but it was a good three hours before Loxiel pushed through some foliage and the city came into view. He sighed with relief. Over and over, Inya had called out "wrong!" during his scouring, and he had begun to hate that word, gritting his teeth every time she called to him. She did offer hints and tips though, so it wasn't like he could be mad at her. He was simply frustrated.

As he took a long breath, looking onto the first hints of the city, Inya dropped elegantly from a branch, landing square in front of him. She raised her brow and shook her head. "That was an awfully long time to reach home from such a short distance." She was, as usual, smiling as she spoke.

Loxiel's head dropped a little. "I know," he conceded. "I'm sorry I failed."

The Elf raised a slender brow. "Failed? But you're home, aren't you? Wasn't that the whole point?"

The changeling looked up at her. "But it took me so long! And you had to keep correcting me. I'd have been hopelessly lost if you hadn't been there." Loxiel felt even more humiliated than he had when he had been found by the watch weeks earlier.

"You wouldn't have. You'd have simply changed into a bird and found your way home. The point of this lesson, was to help you traverse the forest, and you did. No, it was not perfect, and yes you needed help. But you did not fail. You could have quite easily given up and flew back home." She put a hand on his shoulder, causing him to look up. "But you didn't. No one hits the bulls-eye with the first arrow." She let go of his shoulder, and motioned for him to follow as they headed back to Ajteire. "Rest well and eat first thing in the morning. I want you to meet me by Sheelie's house as soon as the sun sees fit to glimpse over the horizon. If you aren't there when I arrive, the lesson will be cancelled and I will not be offering another. Understand?"

He was stunned that she would give him another chance! He had floundered around the forest like a baby deer, and yet she was willing to try again! "I ...erm, yes, of course. Thank you, Inya."

She gave a small laugh. "Keep your thanks for the moment, boy. You might be cursing the ground I walk on before we're through."

***

Wrong!

With a groan, Loxiel pulled himself up in his bed, rubbing his eyes. Now he was hearing that blasted word in his sleep? Wasn't it enough that he had to hear it for hours on end every day? How long had it been now?

Swinging his legs from cot, he looked around at the young Fae and Elves that shared the room, all of them sleeping soundly while he had to go and endure another bout of humiliation under the tireless gaze of Inya.

Six days. That was it. He had been doing this for six days.

After a quick wash, he headed down to the communal eating areas, where the cook would no doubt be expecting him, and he would force down the food he got before hurrying along to meet his mentor. "Keep your thanks for the moment, boy. You might be cursing the ground I walk on before we're through." She had said, and she had certainly not been wrong. Often, when she had corrected or even rebuked him, she had began to laugh, as if knowing he were doing just that; cursing her in his head.

But she hadn't given up, and by Kelorha he wasn't going to give up too. He would turn those mocking smiles into a look of approval, maybe even surprise! He had to keep going.

***

Kneeling down in the moss, Loxiel looked at the indentation in the moss. It was too small for his or Inya's feet. Not this way, then. So he stood and looked around the small, area. He took a long breath, part frustration, partly to calm himself down. He did not want to hear that word again: wrong.

"A person should not rely solely on one's innate abilities," Inya had told him. "There will be times where you will be unable to use whatever natural power you have - in your case shifting - so you must develop other means of survival, and you must perfect them."

It seemed forever until his eyes fell on what should have been the first thing he noticed. It was a spider's web ... but it had been disturbed. Part of it had been broken away. Again he knelt and looked at the floor. Placing his hands very gently on the moss, he smoothed it over. A smile threatened to tweak his face, but overconfidence was unthinkable, at least according to Inya. The moss did indeed bounce back, but the ground underneath did not, and so when he pressed harder ... a footprint!

He carefully crept forward, allowing his hands to guide him. As he felt around, he noticed there were a set of deeper imprints, and a set of lighter imprints, mixed together. The lighter mist ave been Inya's, as she had led him here, blindfolded as always. He followed for sometime, a sense of triumph threatening to make him over-eager. He had to restrain himself from careering ahead in the direction. He knew they had turned many times, so could not be so sure this would be the exact direction to the city. Also, the lack of laughter or that cursed word had failed to come out of the forest, so maybe he was doing right?

Soon enough (too soon, in Loxiel's opinion), the moss grew heavier, and no amount of pressing could help him feel any prints. He looked up and around him. He was in a very thick part of the forest. The greenery grew in at all sides. "It is natural for any wander to take the easiest path," more advice from Inya.

With that in mind, he looked around. There was one place where the going might be easier. He didn't remember having to struggle too much to get out here ... maybe this was the way?

After taking a moment to ensure that he hadn't missed any other clues (though he might have been staring at one for all he knew), Loxiel moved off through the lighter bushes, pushing through, stepping quietly into a small clearing. The sun had managed to creep through some of the leaves, and even this small grove was less oppressive than the forest around then. "It is not just the moss, the trees the leaves or broken twigs that will show you the way. Sometimes the air will tell you which track to travel, boy."

This felt right. Loxiel took a moment to enjoy the sunlight, even though it flickered and there wasn't really much of it, before hunching down and looking for more clues.

***

Apart from the chirping of birds, the occasional creature scurrying through the undergrowth, the forest had remained silent of Inya's voice. Either she had abandoned him or he was doing well. He didn't think the former likely ... but it was still unnerving. He had almost found it eerie not to have her constantly throwing remarks from the shadows, even if it had grated on his pride. He at least knew she was there. When he noticed the leaves of one bush, or at least part of it, maybe at hip height, all facing a different direction than the others, he decided that would be the best way, since he had found nothing else.

Loxiel winced as a sharp twig scratched at his cheek. He rubbed his eyes, as they had grown gritty and tired at the constant scanning and searching. When he opened them, he found he had stepped out of the thick treeline altogether. With some amazement, he realised he was on the very outer perimeter of Khy'eras ... he had done it!

"Finally!

Loxiel turned at Inya's voice. She was leaning against a tree, arms folded and green eyes on him. She was smiling, but that meant nothing with her. "I did it ... I got back!"

Her smile deepened, and she gave one, slow, sarcastic clap. "You did," she said. " You managed to take three hours to get home, when we had walked only a half hour away. How proud you must be, boy." She stood up straight and walked over to him. Her movements were almost lazy;cat-like. "Now imagine you are not just returning home after getting a little lost, but are fleeing an enemy. An enemy right behind you. Do you really think that you will have time to spend fifteen minutes looking at a leaf, before you make your move?"

Loxiel's face flushed with anger. "I got home, didn't I?" He had never spoken to her like this, but he felt robbed of a victory. "That was the whole point!"

She raised a brow. "Oh?" She said, curiously. "Well if that is the case, congratulations! You now know how to get home, even if it takes you days. But," she added. "Were you to encounter one of the vile undead that roam these forests, and if you were to be too tired to shift and fly away, then you would be rotting flesh inside the body of a rotting monster." Her smile slipped from her lips, and her she raised her head slightly. "If what you have done today is all you aspire to achieve then I will offer one last bit of advice; don't bother leaving the city without an escort, for you shall surely meet your end out there."

Loxiel felt crestfallen as she turned and started to walk back to the city. She was right; damn her. What good was this skill if it were so poorly exucted? What would he ever amount to, if he could not even successfully flee an enemy, let alone fight one? "Wait!" He called out, jogging after her. "Inya, wait!"

She did not look back. "I have no time to waste on assisting those who see a skill as mastered. No skill is ever truly mastered. It can always be honed, always be sharpened, always be made better."

"I want to learn more! I want to be better!"

The Elf suddenly stopped and turned. She approached him as he too came to a standstill. Her face was devoid of the smile that always played on her lips. Now she bore an expression of grave seriousness. "What do you actually want, boy?"

Both her demeanour and question caused him some small shock. "I ... erm ..." She began to turn away. "I want to fight!" He said, louder than he realised.

She turned her head to look at him. "Oh?"

He took a breath, and nodded. "I want to fight," he said again. "I have no magic in me, I can't handle a sword or an axe or ... well anything. But I want to be able to contribute. I want to be able to be a part of what keeps my home safe. I want to do whatever I have to do to to be a ..." he looked away as he spoke. "I want to be a hero." He closed his eyes, already anticipating the laughter and mockery that was sure to follow. He opened them when he felt her draw nearer to him, and opened them, nervously.

Inya was smiling, but this time it seemed to have no hint of irony or insult. She regarded him for a moment, then said: "A wise woman once told me 'Inya; do not reach for the stars, for you will never grasp them. Never try to aim for what you can never reach'." She reached out and placed a hand on the young Changeling's shoulder, looking him straight in the eye. "I think that's a load of badger-crap, myself."

Loxiel's eyes were wide as she spoke. "What do you mean?" He asked, perhaps stupidly.

"It means," she said, standing tall. "Then if you want to try and be a hero; a hero is what you must try to be." She smiled. "Time to try and grasp a star, Loxiel."

It had been the first time she had used his name.

***

There were new words in his life now. 'Almost', 'better', and 'good'. There had still been the occasional 'wrong', but soon, he no longer heard that word. Loxiel's routine became his everything. He no longer grumbled at the early mornings, nor did he allow himself to get frustrated when he took longer than he ought to find the clues through the forest that would lead him to home.

Now his life was filled with drive. Inya had not said anything about his dream to be a 'hero' again, but she continued to assist him.

The days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months. Three to be precise. He went out when it was stuffy and warm, when cold managed to penetrate the forest, and miserable days where rain seeped through the canopy and drenched him. He continued, and he got better!

It was on one such rainy day that, when he made it to the perimeter, a hooded Inya waited, leaning against a tree as if she hadn't a care in the world, just as always. Loxiel had come to welcome that sight.

He was a little out of breath as he approached her. "I almost followed a bear!" He said, with a short laugh. He wiped the rain from his eyes and smoothed back his blond hair. "But I think I made good time." He said (hopefully).

Inya straightened herself up. "In this weather, you made excellent time." She said and chuckled at the look of surprise on his face. "I know when to compliment a person's efforts, young Loxiel. I am not made of stone ... well, not completely."

"I'll do better tomorrow." Loxiel said, as they started back to the city.

"No, Loxiel. I think we're done." She said, without looking at him.

He turned his face to hers in surprise, his stomach suddenly in knots. "Why?"

"We're done here." She said, simply, not faltering in her strides.

He had to jog a little to keep up with her. "Did I do something wrong? You said yourself that I made excellent time! If I'm doing so well, why are you stopping out lessons?"

Inya stopped and turned to him. "Because the lesson has been learned!" She said, simply. "It has been done, achieved. You should be proud. I feel confident that you will make a good tracker; perhaps one day even an excellent one. I have nothing more to teach you on that front." She turned and began to walk again.

Loxiel felt a feeling of dismay, and felt incredibly sad. He hurried after her. "But there is so much more you can teach me! You know so much and all I know is tracking and navigating, you could -"

This time, the Elf sighed. "Loxiel; I have responsibilities to the guarding of our home. I also have a responsibility to keep my skills honed and sharp, or else I open myself up to failure and defeat. If I continue to dedicate this time to you, I fear my own edge will grow dull. Besides, there are others who need training, others who need help. You asked me to help you find your way home, if ever you were lost, without relying on your powers as a shifter. Now you can. You should be proud." She gave a small smile. "I know I am."

***

It was a bitter-sweet time for Loxiel. Though he had, as Inya said, achieved what he had set out to do, he knew he had more to learn, more to give and ... well, he guessed he would have to look elsewhere.

It was perhaps a week later when he received the gift. He awoke early, as his body was used to by now, and as he stretched out, he noticed a slight pressure on his knee. Looking in the gloom of the early morning, it was a paper parcel with his name written on it in rather elaborate writing. Instinct told him that it was both an Elf who had written those letters, and that it was Inya. He tore open the parcel as quietly as he could, and into his hands fell the softness of a well made, silken scarf.

Loxiel smiled. The same scarf that had blinded him every day for months; Inya's own, she now gave as a gift. But this time it had some strange looking letters; Elvish, of that he was quite sure, but he could not read it.

When Mistress Karya woke up, he went straight to her as she herded the orphans of the Home through the door to go for breakfast. "Mistress," he said as he approached. "I wondered if you could translate something for me? It's something in Elvish, but I have no idea what it means."

The old Elf took the scarf and admired it for a second. "This is very beautiful, Lox. Where did you get it?"

"Inya gave it to me," he said. "What does it mean?"

The old lady gave him a warm smile as she handed it back. "It means, 'Hero'."