Chapter Three Alder #2
They had reached one of the many resting rooms used in the village. Those that were occupied had a fern leaf tied to the door handle. No one had ownership of any of the rooms in particular, to keep the spirit of the Nomads alive for those who could no longer travel long distances.
‘Dart, what’s the commotion?’ Mia was standing in the doorway, her swollen belly much larger than the last time Alder had seen it. Despite the circumstances, he couldn’t help grinning.
‘Oh Mia, look at you,’ he said. Her dark hair was thick and glossy, falling like rivulets of spilled ink on either side of her almond face.
She stared at him and her eyes filled with tears. ‘Alder?’
‘Finally, someone can actually see us,’ Lettle said.
But Dart shook his head at her. ‘Don’t, Mia, I don’t want you shunned too.’
Mia hesitated, her arms twitching as if about to embrace Alder.
‘I found something out that might change everything for everyone,’ he said.
When they didn’t reply Alder continued. ‘And Dart, I think you might be able to help me learn more about it.’
Mia made a pained sound in her throat but no words came out.
‘Moon’s mercy, he’s human!’ Lettle shouted. Her voice echoed around the mountain, and every Nomad in earshot went silent.
‘What did you say?’ Dart asked.
Alder released a sigh of relief. ‘I’m human, or part human, I guess. Somehow I’m connected to the obeah too.’
‘This is no trick?’ Dart said.
‘Of course, we travelled for four months just to pull off this most elaborate jest,’ Lettle muttered.
‘No, Dart. This is no trick. I need to learn everything I can about where I was found.’
Dart and Mia exchanged a glance, communicating silently, as only those truly attuned to each other know how to do.
‘We must vote,’ Dart said.
Lettle growled low in her throat. ‘That doesn’t sound like a quick process.’
It was not. While Lettle went to retrieve Farhan, who had somehow found himself fishing with a group of perturbed Nomads in a nearby river, Dart called together all the Nomads of voting age into the speaking hall. The room was used rarely, only when decisions of import had to be implemented.
Alder hated the speaking hall. It was so large that your voice would echo much further than intended.
Moss grew in abundance across the walls due to the constant dampness from the waterfall on the other side.
Every memory he had of the hall was bad: How would they combat the impending floods?
Three children were missing from a hunting trip. Who would be the next Wayfarer?
The latter had been particularly terrifying as it had been Alder himself who had been nominated and elected. A role he had never asked for but had accepted willingly.
Alder shivered and wrapped his arms around himself as the Nomads filed in.
‘Why have you called us before No One?’ one of the elders asked when the room was full. Their voice boomed in the vacuous space.
‘Alder has returned to us—’ Some tittered as Dart used Alder’s name. ‘He claims he has discovered important information and requires our help. I believe that under these circumstances he should be seen.’
‘We see only No One,’ another Nomad said.
‘Please, let me explain?’ Alder called out to the room. But still the crowd didn’t acknowledge him.
Dart nodded to him, reassuringly. It was only because Dart was giving Alder this chance that he had not already been escorted away.
‘You will have heard the news that the fae live among us,’ Alder began. People began to turn away, but then he said, ‘But so do humans.’
A hush fell over the congregation. The Nomads turned their shocked gazes to Alder. His words had finally caught their attention, and though it was unnerving to be assessed by so many, this was his opportunity to convince them he was worthy of being seen.
He explained everything that had transpired since he had left the Nomads, about the obeah and the curse, about the elven army heading to Mosima, everything he had learned and was yet to learn.
‘So I need you to see me, and hear me, so I can find out everything I can of my heritage. It might be the answer to stopping a war, or at least, ending a curse.’
‘We have no interest in the wars of others. The Nomads follow no path,’ someone shouted out.
‘He’s probably lying,’ a young mother cried, a babe at her chest.
‘I believe what Alder says,’ Mia said fiercely. ‘And I think we should help him. Because he is right, this will affect us even if we hide from it. Humans, curses, war? It may sound far away, but we all know the wind can blow hither or thither.’
‘We move with the wind, and I will not let it blow me to a battlefield,’ another elf said.
‘And what of Caperly?’ Mia asked, putting her hands on her belly. ‘What of our children and our elders? The elves will not stop at Mosima.’
Despite her plea, the sentiment in the room didn’t seem to have shifted.
‘We should accept him in,’ a gravelly voice said.
Alder recognised Mortah as she stepped forward, leaning heavily on her wooden walking stick.
The hair on her head was a glossy white, like spider’s silk.
It made her dark brows stand out starkly on her face, giving her the illusion of a constant frown.
It didn’t help that her thin lips were always puckered, like a knot in a rope.
She had hated Alder from the moment he had joined the Nomads. So he was not the only one surprised that she spoke in his defence.
‘This is a unique opportunity to set our own trail for the future. We cannot hide from a war as large as this. Let us help him,’ she said.
Alder looked around to find more people were meeting his gaze. Mortah was well respected, her dislike of Alder well known. If she could accept him, then anyone could.
‘I know I left, but I need you, I need you to help me find out who and what I am,’ Alder pleaded one more time, his last words echoing out, ‘What I am, what I am, what I am.’
Dart cleared his throat. ‘It is time to vote.’ Then he turned to Alder. ‘If this does not go in your favour, you will leave here and forget us as we will forget you. You will be No One and Nothing and Never Again. You cannot return, you cannot stay.’
Alder didn’t think Lettle would accept that, but he nodded and closed his eyes.
All he could hear was the movement of hands as they were raised to the sky for either ‘Yay’ or ‘Nay’. He could not tell if the volume was greater for one or the other. It wasn’t until rough hands touched his that he knew it was over.
Dart squeezed his hands, ‘It is done, Alder.’
Alder. Not No One.
Mia threw her arms around his shoulders. ‘I missed you so much,’ she said against his cheek.
Alder let himself be held, his limbs shaking, tears making tracks down his tired cheeks. ‘I couldn’t bear it if you stopped speaking to me, I wasn’t sure you would ever welcome me again—’
Dart’s arms wrapped around his back, joining in the hug. ‘You’re home,’ Dart said over and over to his keening. ‘You’re home.’