Yersua joined the rest of the recruits just as their exercise drills began. He quietly slipped into the back row, hoping to go unnoticed. 

“Friend Yersua, you are late,” Lyna called out from across the clearing. “Ten laps around the perimeter. Move!”

With a sigh, he started jogging around the training field. His body ached from his grapple with Priftoi, but it was his pride that hurt more.

Why do I always end up looking foolish in front of her? thought Yersua.

The young elf had admired Itah ever since he had first arrived at the camp about a year ago. To Yersua, she was the most intelligent, caring, and beautiful person he had ever known. Being around her made him nervous and shy, despite normally carrying himself with an air of confidence, like his cousin. 

Yersua greatly admired his cousin. In everything he did, Yersua sought to emulate Erae, looking up to him as an older brother. He would watch the way Erae behaved around others, especially women. Although he never quite pulled off the flirtatiousness naturally, he had still grown quite popular with the ladies. But with the one person he actually wanted to impress, he always seemed to fall short. 

The red-haired elf noticed several of the female recruits casting glances in his direction as he lapped the training field.

What do they see when they look at me? he wondered. What does Itah see? The young elf remained lost in thought for several minutes until he heard the Captain’s voice shouting again.

“Yersua, where is your head? You’ve done your laps, now get in here and work on your drills.”

“Apologies, mná múinteoir.” 

Tourac, now warmed by the sun and Yersua’s jogging, poked his head out from the elf’s shirt pocket. The Sjamf scurried his way up Yersua’s shirt to lay across his shoulders.

“Are you doing alright, champ?”

Yersua glanced towards his compánach. “Y-yeah, I’m fine.”

Tourac’s eyes narrowed in disbelief. Bringing himself upright on Yersua's shoulder, the Sjamf declared, “You know, I didn’t really see what happened… It was too cold to come out and all.  But I’m sure that it wasn’t as bad as you think.” He paused for a moment. “Or maybe it was. That thud was quite dramatic…”

Yersua rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the encouragement,” he said sarcastically.

“Glad to help,” Tourac replied in equal tone. “Hurry up, I think they are waiting on you.”

Yersua jogged back to join the recruits as they began partner drills.

Later that afternoon, the recruits were drilled on weapons. 

“With several of you preparing to soon complete your rites to become a guardian of Creation, you should know by now which ones you are most comfortable with,” stated Lyna. “Being able to deftly handle your weapon will be vital in your efforts against Ymplerim. Their bodies may be mostly gaseous, but they have a solid, soiled core that if struck with a leigheas embedded weapon can eliminate them.”

The Captain removed an arrow from her quiver to show its red stone arrowhead.

“Although you must prepare for melee as well, always strive to attack from afar,” Lyna continued. “You have all heard or seen what an Ymplerim can do to a being at close range.”

Yersua and the other recruits listened intently. Although they had been training since at least thirteen years of age, very few had ever seen an Ymplerim in person. What they had seen were the warriors returning from battling the monsters tired, wounded, and some nearly drained of their life force. A few, they knew, had even died from Ymplerim encounters.

“Is that how we almost lost the Dlam, mná múinteoir?” asked a young female elf. 

Lyna looked at her seriously, “Yes, and a few other beings as well.” A brief, solemn silence fell over the group.

“That is why we will be practicing both distance and close combat. Choose one or more weapons from what is available. For those of you who have compánaigh,” she looked at Yersua and Tourac, “be sure to be aware of them at all times. We do not need to send anyone to the Master Healer today. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am!” shouted the recruits.

“Partner up and I will come by to instruct you.”

“Friend Yersua,” another young dark-skinned male elf with a wide grin and long golden locs called out. “Let’s partner up!”

As they walked to the array of weapons, the young elf said, “It’s been different having Captain Lyna train us the last few days, hasn’t it? With how strict she is, I almost miss your cousin.”

Grabbing Yersua’s arm, his friend pointed towards the shooting range. “Let’s start with target practice!” 

Yersua grabbed a couple of small axes from the weapons collection, his weapon of choice. The golden-haired elf picked up a set of bolas. 

“You go first,” his friend nodded towards the targets once they got into position.

Yersua nodded and rolled his shoulders in preparation. Tourac returned to the elf’s shirt pocket, keeping his head out to watch. Calming his mind, Yersua focused on the target and hurled the hatchet through the air. It landed dead center.

“Well done!” cheered Tourac.

Yersua’s friend gave him an enormous grin and clapped him on the shoulder. “Amazing, Yersua! I want to be like you when I grow up.”

Ha, this again. Smiling at his partner he said, “Come Friend, please aim higher.”

“Your throws are quite impressive, Friend Yersua.” Lyna had appeared beside them, her bow in hand. Locking eyes with the young warrior, she continued, “You have truly come a long way. Your family and I look forward to you completing your rites soon. You will be an excellent addition to the guardians.”

Yersua gave the Captain a weak, nervous smile and bowed. “I am looking forward to it.”

Suddenly he felt a tug at his sleeve, and turned to see his drill partner pointing beyond the targets and toward the forest. “Hey, isn’t that your cousin?”

Both Yersua and Lyna turned to see Erae heading into the forest on his Ghryz. Riding with him was Sofia.

Lyna noticeably tensed beside Yersua. He looked at her briefly, then turned back to the tree line.

Where are they going?

The sun was already high when Erae left his tent and made his way to the cooking circle. He noticed a buzz in the air as he walked through the camp. There were several glances in his direction, often diverting quickly to avoid eye contact. A group of young ladies giggled among one another as he passed. An older man, looking at Erae from beneath bushy eyebrows, tutted and turned away. 

What is going on?

Upon reaching the cooking circle, Erae was met with a variety of greetings. A few from his troop met him with almost mischievous grins on their faces. The cook had a curious look on his face as he prepared Erae’s plate. As he searched for a seat, Erae noticed Lyna and Faliona and made his way towards them.

Lyna, who had stopped by for a quick midday break from training the recruits, was speaking intensely with Faliona. When he greeted them, Lyna quickly stood without responding and walked away. 

“Was it something I said?” he asked jokingly to the Keeper of Stories, attempting to lighten the mood.

Faliona looked at him with disappointment in her eyes.  “Not quite,” she said softly.

“Erae!” a voice shouted from behind. Roquewei, now fully healed from the Ymplerim encounter, marched up to the blonde elf. “What are you thinking?” he said angrily.

“Sorry?” asked Erae, taken aback.

“Are you courting that talmhan woman?” Roquewei demanded.

The cooking circle went silent. Erae realized that every set of eyes within earshot were glued on him, waiting for his reply.

Ah, Erae thought, this is what the Dlam was worried about.

“Where did you…?” he began.

“What does it matter? Are you courting her or not?” Roquewei was livid, his anger making his ruddy skin even redder. 

Faliona, in an attempt to de-escalate the situation, rose from her seat and wrapped her hands around Roquewei’s arm. Acknowledging Faliona’s signal, Roquewei took a deep breath. 

In only a slightly milder tone, he asked, “Is it true that you have asked her to stay in Lyfay?”

Roquewei’s green eyes flashed in anger as he waited to hear Erae’s answer. After a brief moment of consideration, Erae answered.

“Yes.”

His response set off an eruption of commotion. Whispers, giggles, and exclamations filled the air of the cooking circle, and a few younger elves ran off to spread the news.

Roquewei stood speechless, fuming. Faliona looked at him worriedly, and slowly slid her hands down his arm to clasp his hand. 

In exasperation, Roquewei pulled away and held his fingertips to his temples. “Erae, where is your head? She is a careless, ignorant, destructive inhabitant of Talamh. Ymplerim broke through a gate that had been closed for almost two decades because of her. If she stays, who knows what other sorts of calamities she could bring upon Lyfay?” 

Stepping forward, Roquewei tried to reason with Erae. “She will only cause problems for our people and our mission as guardians. She has to go back!” He stood at his full height and glared at the blonde elf. “The Chief commanded it!”

Erae, slightly taller than Roquewei, met and held his gaze. 

“I know what your mother said, Roquewei,” Erae coolly replied. “But her commands cannot dictate my feelings.”

“Put your feelings in check,” Roquewei shouted. “You made a vow as a guardian to protect Creation. To protect it from people like her!” 

Putting some space between them, Erae continued in an almost jeering tone, “You have no idea who she is.”

“What is there to know? She is not one of us! She cannot be trusted!”

“And you can?” Erae countered, his voice started to rise in anger. “You, who were willing to leave her in the middle of some Talamh jungle? Is that the kind of people we have become for the sake of our mission?”

“I was just…”

“And when the Ymplerim attacked, what did you do?” Erae closed the gap between them. “You just stood there, useless. You froze, Roquewei! You froze, just like before, and just watched!”

Roquewei grit his teeth and clenched his fists as he averted his gaze. 

“Erae, that’s not fair…” Faliona interrupted.

“Not fair?” the blonde elf turned to her. “‘Not fair’ is placing the blame of our crumbling creed on a single person as if she alone is the one endangering our people’s entire way of life! She is not to blame for our failures!”

“Ha… I thought this was a joke,” retorted Roquewei after regaining some of his composure. “I really hoped that it was. You act so ridiculous most of the time, I couldn’t believe you were being serious.”

“Ridiculous?” Erae snorted. “You think because I like to smile and enjoy a good laugh that I am ridiculous? That because I look for the good in people and situations that I must be naïve? Perhaps, Roquewei, if in all the years we have known each other you had taken any time to pay attention to anything else besides getting your dear, caring mother’s approval, you would know who I am. I am a serious, dependable man who works hard to protect those I care about — including you, your sister, and everyone else in this camp! But from now on, Sofia is my top priority. I will protect her with my life!”

Once again, Roquewei was speechless.

Erae turned to leave, but looked back to say, “By the way, I will be joining you on the remainder of your quest for her gate. Sofia needs someone who can actually protect her.” 

With a disgusted smirk he added, “Chief’s orders,” and walked away.

The eyes of other elves followed Erae as he walked across the camp, fuming. Most had never seen the blonde elf in such a mood and, both curious and fearful, shied away as he passed.

Noticing Itah enter the Master Healer’s tent, Erae followed her inside.

“Itah!” he roared.

The young elf jumped in surprise, dropping her bundle of herbs. Ujalam, from her seat at the rear of the tent, frowned.

“What manner of entrance is this, Erae?” demanded the older woman in displeasure. “Why do you enter my tent with such a voice?”

The bubble of rage that had enveloped Erae suddenly popped. He looked at the healers as if just realizing where he was. 

“M-my apologies, Master Healer,” Erae bowed. He noticed the fallen herbs and stooped to pick them up.

“I am sorry, Apprentice Healer,” he said as he gathered her things. “I did not mean to frighten you.” Still kneeling, Erae handed the bundle to Itah.

Itah blushed slightly and took the herbs. 

“What do you seek, Captain?” inquired the Master Healer. Ujalam sat surrounded by books, bowls, and bottles. Her compánach, Reppoh, was sorting the herbs brought by Itah into portions. “I am in the middle of replenishing my medicinal supply.”

Erae rose and apologized again. “I am sorry, Master Healer. I was not myself...”

“You most certainly were,” interrupted Ujalam. Erae looked up in surprise. “You were your angry self. It is fine to be angry; it is a signal, not a sin. But to act or speak rashly in anger, that is where the danger lies.” Her eyes softened. “Does this have to do with the chatter that has been traveling around the camp since the morning?” 

Itah, who had been quietly assisting Reppoh with the herbs, looked up with a worried expression. “I was out all morning and have only just returned. What…?”

“Sofia and I,” Erae explained. Itah, remembering the events of the night before, realized what must have happened. Oh no…

“The entire camp is now aware and most seem… less than pleased.” Erae continued through gritted teeth. “And that son of the Chief, acting all high and mighty… Passing judgments without even attempting to understand...”

“Do you understand him?” Ujalam interrupted again. Erae looked at her in confusion. “The only experience we fully know is our own,” the Master Healer continued. “Roquewei has his reasons for his behavior, and you have yours. Perhaps, when some time has passed, you can come to a better understanding of one another.” 

Erae stood silently, pondering on the Master Healer’s words. Ujalam returned to her work for a moment before looking up again at the blonde elf with a gentle smile. 

“In the meantime, there is someone else who will need you to weather this storm.”

His face softening, Erae nodded and turned to Itah. “Apprentice Healer, I came to ask if you knew where Sofia and Friend Priftoi might be.”

“When I accompanied Friend Sofia and Harton this morning, they met with Friend Priftoi at the training grounds behind the camp near the forest,” Itah replied. 

The blonde elf bowed in gratitude. “Thank you. Apologies again, ladies, for how I entered. Síocháin.” 

As the women watched him go, a soft, small voice spoke beside them. 

“It will be difficult for him when she returns to Talamh, won’t it?” asked Reppoh. Itah looked down in surprise at the Bidi, who rarely ever spoke.

“Yes,” replied Ujalam. Keeping her eyes forward, she stroked her compánach. “It most certainly will be.”