To Paxaria: part 1.0

“What, have you never seen a Human boy before?”

The male voice was a mixture of bemusement and irritation, and Ruelle made a face before she could think to stop herself.

“Of course I have,” she retorted. And then to be safe, she added, “And my apologies. I didn’t mean to be staring. I was just surprised at how young you are.”

The lanky, tan-complexioned boy on the ship’s deck stood up straighter. “I’m older than I look!”

Ruelle brushed wind-blown dark curls back from her face and frowned. “How old are you?”

“I’m fourteen!”

“That’s how old you look,” Ruelle told him matter-of-factly.

“Oh.” He seemed a little underwhelmed and suddenly unsure what to do with his long limbs.

“Don’t worry, though,” Ruelle rushed to reassure him. “I didn’t mean you look like a child. I only meant that you’re much younger than most of the other men here.”

“So?” A defensive note edged his voice. “I can learn to fight just as well as any of the men here!”

“Of course!” Ruelle said. Why must she always seem to insult people when she did not mean to do so? “I wasn’t trying to say otherwise.”

An awkward silence fell between them. Each stared the other down uncertainly, the sea breezes blowing around them, until Ruelle broke the tension with the option that seemed safest.

“Well,” she said, straightening her skirt, “We should start over with a proper introduction. My name is Ruelle Eastwood, but my family calls me Rue. I come from Whispertide, the middle island.”

The youth’s face cleared visibly, and he extended his hand.

“I’m Gaius Aldhelm – and my father says I have a very fitting surname because I can be just as hard-headed as an old helmet. So you can call me either Gaius or just Aldhelm.” He grinned, and added, “We come from Blue Fog.”

“That’s the smaller island just to the North of Whispertide,” Ruelle recalled.

“And the best of the Three, if I do say so myself,” Gaius commented with a dramatic wink. “I’m going to make sure Blue Fog gets the reputation it deserves before all this is over.”

“So,” Ruelle said cautiously, “You’re going to be a fighter?”

“I hope so! That’s what we’re all going to the mainland for, right? Well, probably most of us, anyway. What about you?”

“I want to be a fighter, too,” Ruelle said. She felt herself standing taller and prouder even as she spoke the words. “I don’t know what my chances are, though, being a girl, and only fifteen – but I am still hoping.”

“Well! Fifteen? That probably makes you the youngest of the women here, just like I’m the youngest of the men here, so we have a common woe!”

Gaius’ wide grin was so silly and yet so sincere that Ruelle could not help but smile in return. As if on cue, they both turned to face the horizon where the twilight was just beginning to rise.

“I can’t wait to get there,” Gaius sighed “And to think – we should arrive tomorrow!”

“It almost feels like a far-off dream that will just disappear if I wake up,” Ruelle said. “I’ve never left Whispertide in my life before now. I’m pretty sure I don’t even have one recollection of meeting anyone other than a Human in my entire life – though my father tells me there were some Gnomes that passed through our town once or twice when I was small.”

“Mine is the same story,” Gaius agreed. “I doubt an Elf or Dwarf or Faerie or anything has ever graced Blue Fog with its presence for a hundred years! And there’ve definitely never been anything like orcs or ogres or trolls to disrupt the peace with their ugly faces.”

Ruelle laughed. In all the long hours of being on this ship, she had neither spoken nor connected much with anyone else, but now, oddly enough, she felt at ease with Gaius. She was even enjoying herself.

“My knowledge of the world outside of Whispertide mainly comes from my father’s tales,” she agreed. “Or the scattered tales of someone who was part of a past Tribute and actually came back to the Islands. A place like mainland Paxaria is practically a faerieland to me!”

“It is a faerieland,” Gaius enthused. “I mean, there are literal faerie there, or so they say, but not many people see them often. They’re very evasive. And merfolk! Can you believe people near the coasts have actually interacted with merfolk?” His eyes sparkled with childlike enthusiasm. “What’s the first thing you hope to see in Paxaria?”

Ruelle gazed out over the water thoughtfully for a moment. For years she had weighed this very question in her own mind. What else could she do, when she had grown up in the Three Islands, where every three years seventy-five people from their all-human population were sent as a Tribute to the multicultural mainland? The stories that came back with anyone who returned to their humble home were filled with marvels of people, places, and events Ruelle could only imagine but would almost certainly never see on Whispertide. She had tried all her life to decide which would be the most fascinating to behold, but she’d struggled to settle on just one.

But in this moment, a single thing arose swiftly to the forefront of her mind.

“I want to see Wonders,” she said decidedly.

“Ah, yes, the Wonders of the world!” Gaius beamed. “Do you suppose they truly exist outside of the tales we’ve heard? Humans can do no Wonders, of course, so perhaps it’s all just made up by returning Tribute members who want to sound important for what they’ve seen.”

“No, I think they are real,” Ruelle said. “They’ve got to be at least as real as King Alroy’s castle or the Gnomes and their little shops, or anything else we’ve heard about. Besides,” she continued, “Why would proud Tribute members who want to show off come back and boast about something they themselves cannot do?”

“You’re right. I never thought of that,” Gaius agreed. “There really would be nothing in it for them. After all, do you know how lousy it must feel to see the Wonders of all the different people and yet have nothing of the like to show for your race?”

Ruelle did know, or at least she had an estimation of how terrible it would feel. As thrilling as it was to think she’d likely soon be able to see people perform legendary Wonders, it had been bothering her the last few days in nearly as much measure as it had been bringing excitement.

“Well,” she said, raising her chin determinedly, “You don’t need to be able to do Wonders to be a fighter for your land. That’s what you and I are probably going to be. We will make a name for ourselves and our Islands, Wonders or no.”

Again, Gaius smiled broadly. “I like that spirit,” he said.

___

Although Ruelle knew the ship was not expected to reach the mainland until the next morning, she found it hard not to stand on the deck as often as she could, gazing out across the water, imagining she could see the form of land taking shape on the horizon. Even after the stars were out that night, she still stood at the post she had taken to frequenting. It felt a little silly and immature to indulge in the thought that she was journeying to the land of her childhood faerie tales, but nonetheless, it was a reality. Ruelle felt as if some tiny, magical, winged creatures were dancing within her very heart.

The sound of footsteps behind her caught her attention. There were not many other people out on the ship’s deck at this time of night.

“I heard you talking to that young boy earlier,” a low female voice drifted to Ruelle’s ear from close behind her. Ruelle turned, but found she did not know the name of the young woman standing there.

“You mean Gaius?” Ruelle asked. She suddenly felt uncomfortable at the idea that someone had been eavesdropping.

“Yes, I believe that’s his name.” The other girl was at Ruelle’s side now, close enough that Ruelle could see the moon’s glint off her dark irises.

“Well, what about it?”

“He seems very enthusiastic,” she mused. “You don’t really think you’re going to the mainland to be trained as fighters, do you?”

Ruelle backed a step away. The closeness of this stranger felt prickly. “Why not?

One of the young woman’s shoulders rose in a half shrug, and a soft half laugh escaped her lips.

“Just like the boy,” she said, almost more to herself than to Ruelle. “You think that just because Tribute members are usually trained for the military that all of us on this ship are destined for the same.”

“Well, what about it?” Ruelle said, neither admitting nor denying the stranger’s words.

“Nothing.” The young woman mirrored Ruelle’s crossed arms. “I just think your expectations are misplaced if that’s what you think is going to happen. And from your conversation earlier, I gathered that you and the boy are both under that impression.”

The heat of rising annoyance burned in Ruelle’s chest.

“You had not right to be eavesdropping on other people’s conversation, you know,” she accused. 

“It wasn’t eavesdropping, only overhearing. And I am simply telling you because I want to set your expectations right.”

“What are you talking about?” Ruelle demanded.

The young woman quirked an eyebrow. When she spoke, she drew out her words slowly, as if to a child.

“If you need it in so many words, I am telling you that you should not expect to gain the warrior’s glory you talked about. Neither you nor that Gaius boy should expect to be taken to be trained as fighters. Do you think that because there are reports of unrest in Etelka and Bexley in the East that Paxaria is desperate enough to recruit people so young for their military forces? Do you think that simply because there are one hundred and twenty-five of us in this Tribute instead of just seventy-five that they’re taking us all to train us with sword and spear? I would not set my heart on that, Ruelle Eastwood.”

Ruelle felt more uneasy than ever, but she dared not show it to this unfamiliar woman. More than that, she despised the thought of displaying her discomfort.

“So,” she said, trying to keep her voice cool and even. “What exactly do you presume they have in mind for us?”

Another soft sound resembling a snort came from the other woman.

“Nothing so fanciful as all that. Many of us will likely be scattered here and there, placed in whatever inglorious roles they deem we will be most useful.”

Ruelle squinted her eyes, looking the stranger up and down, trying to discern what she was on about and how much she should believe her. In any case, Ruelle wanted to be away from this woman.

“Well, your words are duly noted,” Ruelle said stiffly. She straightened her shoulders and her skirts, and pushed away from the railing. “We will see how things fall out tomorrow. Good night.”

With that, she stalked away to her quarters.

Still, the other woman’s words were a very rough pillow for Ruelle’s head all through the night.

Was she right? The more Ruelle pondered it, the more sense she saw in what the strange young woman had said, regardless of how desperately she wanted to push it away.

Was it true that Paxaria was not as in need of warrior trainees as Ruelle had been led to believe? Were the rumored threats of war truly as far away still as Etelka and Bexley? What kind of mundane duties might she be allotted after all? Ruelle tried not to entertain ugly imaginations, but she still could not keep her mind from painting undesirable images of being a slave to an ugly old Dwarf who kept her in shabby living quarters. She pictured herself being assigned some ignoble responsibility such as sweeping streets in a slum somewhere while beautiful young Elves passed by and wrinkled up their noses at her or armies of strong men and women paraded past her on their way to exciting battles.

Suddenly, the wonderful faerieland images of Paxaria burst like a bubble pricked by an unsympathizing needle. Never in all her life would Ruelle have anticipated that she could have possibly felt such a foreboding sense of gloom as the shores of Paxaria drew nearer. Never would she have imagined that she would actually dread arriving there.

And yet as the dawn broke the sleepless night, Ruelle felt for the first time on that entire journey that she wanted to turn around the ship bound to faerieland and go back home.