The Halfling

Chapter 12

The two sat in silence under the glimmering night, not lighting up a fire. They hadn't brought up what happened earlier. For as soon as the girl said what she said, her mouth hinged to call back for her companion. But he was already off, a-weaving his way through the lands.

They leaned on the ecru-gray of the walls. It smelled unlike the previous places for a scent like jasmine and roses lingered. The boy had conjured it, the first he had used in a long time.

"Do you think," Theresa started, "that we'll ever see Morris again? I regret saying those things. Everything."

"He knows that too, I'm sure," Samuel said. "But though we know something to be true, our heart cries much louder. Unreason is much more powerful than rationality. And even slimes have feelings." He fingered a pebble. "To a certain extent."

"That almost sounded poetic," the princess snickered.

"It is all I've ever read," the boy replied. "All I have read are tales and legends that make one believe everything ends quite happily. Well, no, not really, there were knights who ended up in a dragon's stomach. And I have seen much like that in our journey. Perhaps we'll end like them too?"

Theresa punched his arm. They laughed—almost heartily.

"I just wish I'd been more careful," Theresa said.

"And I wish I'd be less careful. My faith quivers even now." Samuel looked at the stars. Even here, in the gathering of worn-out stone and dust-covered wood-tress, they were beacons of hope that those suffering might wish upon. He pointed at a glittering blue one. "If I'd have a star, I'd want that."

"The North Star?"

Samuel nodded. "It guides sailors along the sea, they say, and whisks them through dangerous waters. Some even worship it, claiming it to be another of the Moon's many forms, another wondrous Lady helping us navigate the world and live in it."

"Do you believe that?"

"I don't know. And what do we mean by believe? Belief in existence? Or belief as in trust and faith?"

"You asked me something. That's not much of an answer."

"Too much of life is," said Samuel. "And all we can ever do is live out our questions, as Amos said. Then perhaps, slowly, so slowly that we do not notice, we'll already be living out the answer posed to us by life. But I think we should get to sleeping. Let's look for Morris in the morrow. Going about blindly won't help us, anyway."

For the next week they trailed the lands, in search of Morris. But no sign of he could they find. They found two more villages, and they explored their ruins, hoping for a clue or an entrance. But no matter how many floorboards they lifted, ash-stricken pots they peered through, only emptiness greeted them.

They left the place and came upon a rather low chain of hills. Under the moonlight, it shone purple and black. Like sheep shorn wildly, some slopes were covered in indigo haberdashery while others were razed, soil dark as the night. It hardened their hearts to see it so.

A thought came to Samuel then. He told it. "Do you think?"

Wide-eyed, the girl jumped. She ran towards it, frantically. "I'll look. Find. Perhaps see. Hope, most of all! Help me!"

They ripped up pebbles, scrapped the turf, fumbled for hidden entrances. As they lifted the stones, the princess sang, lilting lullabies that lapped their ears with cool, gentle waves. But no such luck. She tried the foreign tongue: but though mimicking often came easy to children, they were not so for those grown. It was no less the case for the girl.