Young Writers Society

Ruelle’s head snapped around to face Altha.

She nearly dropped all her belongings right there on the spot.

“A what?” she gaped. Her eyes must’ve been as round as the rising moon.

“An apprentice,” the older woman repeated. “A physician’s apprentice. Did you not know?”

Ruelle shook her head.

“No,” she said, feeling betrayed. “What . . what does that mean?”

It was probably an absurd question, but Ruelle was still struggling to process this information.

“I am a physician - a healer, if you will. I was sent here by appointment to receive you, and you are to begin an apprenticeship with me. I will be teaching you what I know as you work alongside me in my field of service.”

“An apprentice,” Ruelle repeated, blinking, still dazed.

The look in Altha’s eyes was genuinely apologetic and a little concerned.

“They did not inform you of this before you arrived?” she asked again. “I would have expected them to tell you long before now, especially with this matter of taking apprentices being a new institution this year.”

It was Altha’s turn to shake her head in disbelief. Rue hugged her belongings closer to her chest, heart beating wildly, mind racing.

“What did you think you were going to be doing?” Altha asked, then quickly said, “Oh, I shouldn’t be bothering you about that now.”

Rue answered anyway. “I thought . . . well, I thought I was going to train to be a fighter – you know, like all the others who came to join the military forces,” she stammered.

Altha sighed deeply.

“I cannot believe such critical information got overlooked,” she said. “No doubt this rocks your world.”

If only she knew, Ruelle thought. Her mind was finally grasping the reality of the situation, and she was beginning to feel angry. How could she have been so misled?

“Well,” Altha spoke again after a moment. “There’s no use standing around here. It is getting dark. Come, we will stay here in town tonight.”

Ruelle had no choice but to follow the older woman. Her mind fixated on this astonishing revelation, turning it over and over as she and Altha wound their way up the stony path that brought them to a cobblestone town street.

Altha led them to a cozy looking inn where warm golden light spilled from the windows. The sounds of laughter coming from inside sounded wrong to Ruelle, as if they were floating from some far-off place she could not access. In fact, it had only taken one strange moment, and her whole life no longer felt right anymore. Even the warm, hearty supper she and Altha sat down to a few minutes later could barely tempt Rue’s disposition into what it had been only just this morning, all glowing with anticipation and ambition.

“So,” Altha broke the heavy silence between them over supper, “Tell me about yourself, Ruelle. What place is it that you call home?”

Ruelle raised her eyes to Altha’s face. It was slightly wary, but Ruelle could see it was genuine, and she could tell Altha was trying to help her feel comfortable.

But Ruelle did not want to be comfortable.

Deep within her heart, beneath the shock and the confusion and all the strange and melancholy feelings that crept up with the first nighttime in an unfamiliar place, something akin to fury started simmering.

It’s not going to work, she decided. I will never be happy with this.

Outwardly, she just shrugged, dropping her gaze back to the bread and stew before her.

“There’s not much to tell,” she said flatly.

Altha, however, was not so easily deterred.

“I believe I was informed you come from the island of Whispertide. Is that correct?”

Ruelle nodded. She continued pretending to be interested in her food.

Another awkward silence fell between them.

Finally, when the last drops of Altha’s stew had been mopped up by the last bite of her bread, she said, “Well, I know everything is very new to you, and I am sorry I had to bring the announcement of your apprenticeship so unexpectedly. I truly thought you would have known. But perhaps once you get a good sleep tonight, things will look better in the light of a new day.”

She offered a tentative smile which Ruelle did not return.

“Get some rest tonight,” Altha said again, standing. “And if you have any questions about anything,” she paused meaningfully, “I will do my best to answer them all tomorrow, or the day after that, or whenever they come up.”

Ruelle hated the implication of all the time they’d be spending together in the future. But fortunately, she managed to hold her tongue on the issue for the time being.

The morning sun was just rising when Altha and Ruelle climbed into the little cart which Altha owned and had brought on her journey to the coast to receive Ruelle. It was neither large nor impressive, and needed only Altha’s one horse to draw it, but it was convenient for storing Ruelle’s belongings. Altha also had a couple bags of her own, which probably contained whatever she needed for traveling. Ruelle conjectured that they must hold her medical implements as well. Rue had never known any physician who went anywhere without theirs.

The small harbor town was already coming alive for another day of work, and Ruelle watched with fascination as Human men and Dwarves alike headed toward the docks, while Gnomes and Halflings threw open the shutters of colorful little shops side-by-side, poking their heads out their windows to call “good morning” and chat with one another. Everyone worked alongside each other here, the different races seeming to blend comfortably among the others with congenial harmony. For all the interruption in Rue’s own life, all things apparently ran smoothly and at peace in this quaint town.

“I could be content just to settle right here,” she noted aloud as Altha’s cart bounced down the cobblestone street that led to the main road out of town. “Well, almost.”

A shadow fell over her features, and she glanced quickly away.

“It is normal to miss one’s home,” Altha offered sympathetically, noticing Ruelle’s crestfallen expression.

Ruelle nodded, but she did not bother to correct the apparent misinterpretation.

The bustling village gradually faded behind them, taking its jovial mood with it. In its place, a scattering of small fishing shacks dotted a marshy landscape. Ruelle fell even more somber as the scenery became duller, every turn of the wheels carrying her toward a fate she did not want.

“If you liked Whitehaven back there, you’ll be sure to like the capital city,” Altha said brightly.

“I hope so, seeing as I’ll be stuck there for the next three years.”

Ruelle hadn’t meant for that much bitterness to seep into her voice, but there it was.

“You have not seemed to be happy about that this whole time,” Altha observed. “What troubles you?”

“I don’t wish to talk about it.”

“You do not need to,” Altha said, “But we have plenty of time if you decide you want to share.”

Ruelle released a half-sigh, half-snort of annoyance. She crossed her arms stubbornly and looked away, determined not to be lured into revealing her inner feelings. But with each passing moment, she slouched further and further down in her seat, simmering in her misery.

Finally, thoroughly exasperated, she blurted out, “It’s just . . . everything. This whole thing, all of it, it’s . . . it’s not what I expected.”

“The apprenticeship, you mean?”

“Yes,” Ruelle answered glumly.

“Hmm.”

“I – I thought I was going to be trained with the fighters. You know, like the Tributes always do. I thought I was going to have the chance to protect the kingdom with all the heroes. But now . . . .” she trailed off, clenching her fists. “I should have just stayed home! If I’m not to be a fighter, there’s no point being here!”

Angry tears pricked Ruelle’s eyes, but she refused to cry. She took a deep, shaky breath, staring dejectedly into the distance. Her hands remained clenched on the seat by her sides.

For several long moments, Altha said nothing. Only the creak of the cart and its wheels over the hard earthen road broke the miserable silence.

“I think you may find,” Altha said at last, “That there are more ways to defend a kingdom than you suppose.”

“None that matter as much,” Ruelle frowned.

“Perhaps, if you keep your eyes and mind open, you may be surprised at what you find to be of more value than you’d thought.”

Ruelle was neither entirely sure she knew what Altha meant, nor whether she was convinced she agreed anyway. But she felt it would be disrespectful to argue with the older woman any further, so she fell into silence again. Keeping her eyes open surely wasn’t doing much for her now, the uninhabited land offering little of interest for the next several miles.

Nonetheless, her mood lifted when she saw another small town in the distance. It was a Gnomish settlement, she realized as they drew closer. Their route took them along the outskirts, but it was enough to catch her interest once again. At one point, they slowed down when they saw a male Gnome bending over a little cart beside the road. He was whistling cheerfully to himself, appearing to be fiddling with a broken wheel.

Altha pulled up to a stop.

“Hello, friend. Do you need some help there?” she said.

The Gnome’s bright eyes brightened even further when he looked up.

“Why, if it isn’t Altha Silverthorn!” he cried merrily, straightening himself to greet them. At his full height, he wasn’t even as tall as the Halflings Ruelle had seen in Whitehaven. “What brings our famous doctor to these parts?”

Altha smiled modestly and shook her head.

“You must stop calling me by exaggerated titles, Woosley,” she told him.

“Ah, but you are a familiar face to many in Paxaria,” the Gnome insisted. “And who might this be with you?” He gestured towards Ruelle.

“This is Ruelle, my new apprentice. I am returning from Whitehaven to bring her with me to Eldgaamel.”

“Apprentice?” Woosley’s eyebrows shot upwards. “This is new.”

“Yes, it is,” Altha agreed. “A new institution the kingdom wants to establish in addition to receiving Tributes to serve in the armies.”

“Well, what a wonderful opportunity for you,” Woosley beamed at Ruelle. “Altha is one of the best in her profession!”

“Do you need help with that wheel?” Ruelle wanted to steer the attention off of herself.

“Ah, this wonky wheel!” Woosley turned back to his overturned cart, picking up a curious looking tool and performing a few tweaks with it. “As a matter of fact, I’ve just … about … got it! There!”

He gave the wheel a triumphant spin.

“I don’t know why it decided to go and break on me today, but it’s as good as new now,” he said.

Altha and Ruelle insisted that they at least help him right the cart before they headed on their way. He accepted, but just before taking to the road again, he dug in his pockets and pulled out a shiny amber stone.

“Take this as a token of appreciation and good luck,” he told Ruelle, dropping it into her palm.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Safe travels to you!” He waved to the pair of them. “And don’t stay out on the roads after dark. You wouldn’t want to meet one of those strange monsters they’ve sighted here of late!”

“What monsters is he talking about?” Ruelle asked Altha as they went their separate ways at a split in the road.

“Nothing to worry about, most likely,” Altha assured her. “Gnomes can be superstitious folk. But it is safest for us to be off the roads after dark even so.”

Ruelle got a strange feeling that Altha was not disclosing everything she knew, but a stolen sideways glance at her mentor’s face signified that the older woman would be a closed book on the issue for now. Ruelle figured she would have to wait. Maybe she could coax Altha into telling her more later.

But in that moment, there was one thing Ruelle decided for sure.

I want to see a monster.