The Fourfold Key
Chapter Eighteen: Goodbye Again

“Excuse me? ...Ruth?” came a voice from outside.

Ruth sat up in her bed, breathing hard. Another dream. She shuddered, remembering how the Sorceress had killed the dwarf without a second thought. She slipped to the floor, noticing a leaf carpet had appeared at the foot of her bed while she slept. Out the window overlooking the village she could see that it was late afternoon. She hurried to the door and opened it, leaving her staring into the face of a very handsome elf-boy.

He had shoulder-length black hair, every strand forced into a series of rope-like twists, blue eyes, and a large smile.

“H—hi,” Ruth stammered, trying very hard not to stare at his face.

“Hi to you, too. Ramere sent me to get you. Come on!” He began to walk off. Ruth stumbled after him. “I’m Drexel,” he added.

“Nice to meet you. How - how old are you?” Ruth asked. She wasn’t sure why she asked that. I’m feeling weird, so maybe that has something to do with it. She ordered the strange fluttering down. She had never felt this way before, and she wasn’t sure she liked it.

“I’m fourteen - You’re twelve, I know,” he added, grinning.

“Yeah, well—What’s today’s date?”

“The thirtieth of June. Why?”

“Well, I’m—that’s my birthday. I’m thirteen.” Ruth’s mind unwillingly flashed back to her family, and how devastated they would be. They probably think I’m dead, she thought glumly. She imagined them seated around the table, looking at each other sadly, each thinking about how happy this day should be. And Lila, she would be mourning, too, she was sure. It was nice to think about how much they cared about her, but it hurt to think they were hurting. “So,” she said, trying to change the subject, “why does Ramere want me?”

“It’s time to eat, I think. Come on, let’s go get Shorty.”

“Shorty?”

“The dwarf. I met him earlier. He doesn’t seem to like his new nickname though.” He smirked.

Ruth laughed.

After a while, they came to Tom’s little room. Instead of replaceing Tom in the room though, they discovered him sitting in front of its closed door, as far away from the platform’s edge and any plants as possible.

“Still don’t like you, huh?” Drexel asked.

“Oh, it’s you again.” Tom’s expression darkened. But it brightened when he noticed Ruth. “Hello, Ruth.”

“Hi, Tom! How’s it going?”

“Horrible. The room locked me out. And before that it tied me to a chair. It’s not amusing!” he added when he saw Drexel, doubled over with laughter. Tom glared at him until he composed himself.

“Alright, Shorty. Come on, it’s time to eat.” Drexel shooed Tom towards the ladder.

“Absolutely not. There’s no way I’m going down there again.”

“Yep. You are.” Drexel picked Tom up, hoisted him over his shoulder, and proceeded to carry him towards the ladder.

“ALRIGHT! I’M GOING! PUT ME DOWN!” Tom roared.

Drexel laughed and set him on the ground. Tom huffed and stalked down the ladder.

Ruth put a hand over her mouth to smother her grin.

Drexel led them to a large platform, the center of which had three long tables. At the head of each of the three tables was an elf. Ruth assumed they were a type of royalty, because of the finery of their clothes.

The first table was made of wood and was the simplest of the three tables. The elf sitting at the front of the table was dressed in a dark green tunic. He had blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. He wore a bronze circlet, twisted and swirling. He stared at Ruth with cold eyes, and she got the feeling she wasn’t going to like him. The other elves sitting at the table were dressed similarly and were all eating merrily.

The second table was headed by a beautiful woman. She wore a long silvery dress that glittered and shone. She looked serious, but not unkind. Her circlet was made of silver, and curved down onto her forehead. It looked like it was studded with diamonds. She had long, wavy blonde hair and warm brown eyes. The way she looked at her and Tom wasn’t unkind, but it was critical, like she was looking inside Ruth, judging her potential. It made her feel peculiar, and a glance at Tom assured her he was feeling the same thing. Her table was full of calm, composed elves. They looked as if they were enjoying themselves, but it was a quiet, mature enjoyment.

The final table had an elf dressed in a gray brown tunic, with a dark golden cloak. He had red hair topped with a simple gold circlet and sparkling kind eyes. He viewed Ruth and Tom with mild interest, but his gaze held mostly kindness.

Tom and Ruth stood there, unsure of where to go. Drexel leaned in. “I think you and Shorty go over there, with the Warriors. Ramere’s over there at the end. I’m going to join the Tree Whisperers.” Drexel made a disgusted face and marched off to the table, giving a quick bow to the man at the head of the table and began to eat.

Ruth and Tom moved to the last table a little uncertainly, but the feeling began to wane once they reached Ramere. She greeted them and invited them to sit.

“So, who are the elves at the head of each table?” Tom asked as they began to eat.

“The one at our table is named Sir Connor. He is a good man and he leads us well. Lady Cora is the woman in the center. She leads the Enchanters. The man at the end is Sir Horace. He leads the Tree Whisperers. We call them The Three.”

“Why do the elves have three leaders? Why do you separate?” Ruth wondered.

Ramere took a bite and chewed slowly. “Each of us has a special ability. There are the ones who are able to speak to trees, the Tree Whisperers. The ones who are talented with hunting and fighting, the Warriors. And the ones with magical abilities, the Enchanters. If your parents are married and they aren’t from the same group you have a chance of getting either of your parents talents. Most of the time you get both of your parents abilities, but you are placed in the group of which you are the most talented.”

“But,” Ruth looked at Ramere questionably, “you’re with the Warriors, I’ve seen you speak to trees, and you told us you were once thinking about becoming a magician. How can you have three abilities?”

“Well, my mother was a Warrior. My father was an Enchanter, but he also had a bit of Tree Whisperer in him from one of his parents. I inherited all of these abilities. It isn’t that rare to have all three. When I was little I wanted to be an Enchanter. I worked so hard on my Enchanter’s skills. My parents warned me, saying that I was a talented Warrior, and I should focus my time on that. I ignored them, foolish as I was. On the day of the Test, I declared that I was an Enchanter. They asked me to demonstrate, as they always do. I tried, and failed. They declared I was unfit for the Enchanters. They made me try my other talents. They told me I was a good Warrior. I was placed with them, mortified and angry.” Ramere’s voice began to waver, her eyes off in the distance, looking far into the past. “It isn’t strange to continue working with another one of your abilities on the side. I chose to continue with Tree Speech.”

“Why didn’t you go with magic, if it was that important to you?” Tom asked.

“I was so angry and embarrassed, I didn’t want to touch anything related to magic again. I avoided any and all the Enchanters, and went through great lengths to stay away from anything they created. I was heartbroken.” Ramere stared at her empty plate, then shook herself. “But I’m through that stage now. It’s too late to get myself involved with anything magic anyway.”

Just then Drexel came walking up and sat down next to Ruth. “Helloooo,” he said. “What are you all talking about without me? Nothing interesting, I hope.” He grinned.

“What are you doing here?” Tom growled. “Shouldn’t you be at your table?”

“Nope. I’m done. You’re welcome, Shorty. So, back to the topic. What are you guys talking about?”

“Just my backstory, Drexel,” Ramere said shortly.

“You two know each other?” Ruth asked.

“Yeah,” Drexel answered. “I, uh, live with her.” Drexel cleared his throat and stared at the floor.

“She’s your mom?” Ruth asked, surprised.

“No, I’m his aunt,” Ramere said quietly.

“Why does he live with you then? It seems unfair for his parents to leave him your responsibility,” Tom said.

Drexel made a choking noise, got up and walked off, not looking back once. Ruth gave Ramere a questioning look.

“His…parents died two years ago. His father - my brother - was a Warrior. He died in a skirmish with the trolls. When the rest of us received news that a group of Warriors had been killed, Drexel’s mother rushed down with a group of other elves to see what had happened. The trolls had stayed to wait for the rescue party and attacked them as well. No one survived.” Ramere turned her head away, but not before Ruth caught the glint of tears streaming down her face.

“I’m sorry. That’s horrible.” It was the only thing she could think of to say. She thought back to when she had been given the news of when her own father was presumed dead. “I know his hurt.”

Tom had a horrified look on his face. He pushed back his chair and rushed after him.

Ramere kept silent. They stayed like that for the rest of dinner, in companionable silence. When it began to get dark, hundreds of large colored fungus around the entire village lit up, giving the whole village light. Ramere excused herself and headed to bed, so Ruth did the same.

In the morning, Ruth packed her things and headed out to replace Tom.

She walked through the village, taking bridges, stairs, and boardwalks, breathing in the crisp morning air. She was walking across a large platform when she saw Drexel sitting at the edge, absentmindedly playing with a wisp of vine. Ruth hesitated, not sure what to do. Then she walked over and sat next to him.

“Hi.”

Drexel glanced at her, then back at the plant.

“I’m sorry about what Tom said last night. He really did feel bad about it.”

“I know.” Drexel didn’t look at her. “I saw him looking for me last night, muttering about how foolish he was.” He gave a faint smirk.

“I’m also sorry about your parents. I… I thought I lost my dad three years ago. I thought he had drowned.”

Drexel looked up. “You thought?” he said curiously. Now she had his attention.

“Well,” Ruth hesitated, not sure if she should tell Drexel about Earth. “Me and my family thought he drowned in—in Dwarfshead River. But then, a couple of weeks ago, I found out he was alive! Except he was being held prisoner by the Sorceress, and they want me, too.

“So I’m going to replace him and save him. To bring him home.” Ruth drew in a shuddering breath. Drexel gave her a look she couldn’t interpret.

“Did it hurt to lose him?” Drexel asked quietly.

“Yes! Yes, it hurt. It was the kind of hurt that didn’t go away. The kind that was always throbbing and aching in your pit. You know?”

Drexel nodded. “That’s how I feel.”

Ruth didn’t respond.

They sat in silence for a moment, looking on at the lush forest around them. Then Drexel spoke.

“I wish I could bring them back,” he whispered. A single tear slipped down his cheek. He sniffed and wiped the tear away, turning his face so Ruth could not see him cry.

“It’s okay,” she said, laying her hand on his shoulder. “I know how you feel. It’s okay to cry.”

“No.” He shook his head. “No, it’s not okay to cry.” Still shaking his head, he got to his feet and wobbled away.

Tom came out of his hut bleary eyed and tired.

“The bed wouldn’t let me sleep on it so I had to make do with the floor. And if I ever tried to take a blanket or a pillow the whole room attacked,” Tom explained to Ruth as they walked over to the kitchens to get food. Once there, they found a dozen Tree Whisperers hard at work, encouraging trees and plants to produce fruit and vegetables quicker and larger than Ruth had thought physically possible, with or without magic. Sir Horace sat at the far end of the platform, overseeing, glaring at Ruth. He looked like he was deciding what was the best way to get her thrown off the platform if she got too close. She took her chances and walked over.

“Hi, um, Sir Horace.” Unsure what to do, she dipped a small curtsy. Or what she assumed was one.

“What is it?” he snapped in a sharp, growly voice.

“Um, well, see, we’re going today and we need some food—”

“No,” the stern elf interrupted.

“But—”

“No,” he repeated, sterner than ever.

Ruth didn’t know what to do. Stunned and hurt, she turned to go. A thin young elf slipped past her to speak to Sir Horace about something, giving her a sympathetic look as he went by. He immediately began to question his grumpy elder about some kind of formula to help the plant grow faster. Quick as lightning, two beautiful young elves slipped over and shoved a satchel full of dried fruit and provisions into her hands. One of them quickly muttered directions to where the Warriors dried their meat and game. Ruth thanked them, relieved that not all the Tree Whisperers were like Sir Horace.

Once Tom and Ruth had everything they needed, they set off to the entrance of the village. When they crossed the bridge, they realized they weren’t the only ones there. The Three were there, as well as Drexel and Ramere. Sir Connor shook their hands, giving them a hardy, “Good luck!” and a slap on the back that left Ruth reeling. Lady Cora took her hand gently.

“You have great determination and courage to finish your quest. Listen to your friend’s advice, and treat everyone with kindness. I wish you well.” Her voice was soft, but full of power.

“Thank you.” Ruth wasn’t sure what to make of this elf.

Sir Horace squeezed her hand. Probably much more tightly then he needed to. “I don’t know who you are or where you came from, but I’m glad you’re going, and I hope you never come back,” he hissed in a voice so low they were the only two who could hear it. He squeezed Tom’s hand as well. By the look on Tom’s face, he had received a similar goodbye.

Ramere was next. She wrapped them both in a large hug and whispered, “the offer still stands. I would still love to aid you.”

Tom gave a small shake of his head. Ramere pursed her lips.

“Good bye,” Tom said.

“Bye, Ramere,” said Ruth. “I hope I can come back soon.” She glanced at Sir Horace as she said this, hoping for an angry reaction. She knew getting on one of the Three’s bad side probably wasn’t the best idea, especially since he could throw her off the platform with living vines if he wanted, but still.

Drexel walked forward, standing away from her, as if not sure what to do.

“I’m up for hugs,” Ruth suggested, hoping she didn’t sound too eager.

Drexel laughed softly and stepped forward to hug her. “Bye Ruth, hope I see you soon. And stay alive, too.” His face turned serious as he said the last part, looking her straight in the face. “And thank you,” he whispered in her ear, “for our little talk.”

“I hope so too. About both those things. Bye.” She blushed.

“Now for Shorty!” Drexel cried, and rushed to embrace him with an exaggerated hug. Tom squirmed away. He had clearly recovered from last night.

“Good bye, Drexel,” he said shortly, like he didn’t really mean it.

“Bye, Shorty,” said Drexel in a high, mocking tone.

Tom and Ruth got down the tree, and with a final wave, set off.