Reality

“Did you know about this?” Amir nearly shouted to Elwood when they arrived back in the council room.

Elwood didn’t approve of his son’s out-burst, but he was impressed that he had managed to keep his temper in check up until they were behind closed doors.

“As I mentioned earlier, I noted that she had some feelings for the Teka. Although I didn’t know it had progressed to where they had pledged their lives,” Elwood stated calmly.

“How can you stay so calm,” Amir reeled back his outward display of anger, but his eyes began to hold other emotions. He stumbled to a chair and sank into it, his hands reaching up to offer a support for his head as he slumped down.

“I… I just don’t know,” Amir said. Elwood waited. It would be prudent of him to wait while his son gathered his thoughts on the matter. His patience paid off. “I don’t know what to do, dad. When it comes to matters of war and protection, directing our people, it… it just comes naturally.” Amir’s face darkened with an underlying tone of sadness and frustration. “But when it comes to matters of my daughter… I don’t know. I just don’t know what to do.” Elwood slowly walked over and sat in a chair perpendicular to his son. A long sigh escaped the older Dryad’s throat as he sunk into thought.

“If only her mother were still here,” Amir said softly. Elwood looked over at his son, his face now resting on two propped fists. “She could sort this out. She was always better at this anyway.”

“You mean matters of the heart,” Elwood pointed out softly. His son’s head jerked at the words before he let out a sigh of resignation.

“Yes.”

“You can’t change the past, my son,” Elwood said more softly. As expected his son rose in a flurry of anguished, anger.

“I know that!” he cried out. “I know,” he said more softly. “But there are days…” his words trailed off and Elwood knew the feeling. It was not too different from his own. Those moments where your other half who could handle a rough situation with more grace and expertise than yourself, was no longer there and the responsibility was shouldered by your own clumsy strength. It was a feeling that many Dryads had come to know over the years due to the constant war with the Teka. But it was ever more apparent in the lives of Amir and his daughter, and even in the life of Elwood. This constant war had cost so much.

“So, what do you plan to do?” Elwood asked with a sympathetic look.

“Give me a minute.” Amir said, as he took a breath and tried to calm the torrent of emotions and thoughts racing through his head. After a minute of silence he finally found a starting point.

“A pledge… with a Teka. Are you aware of any other case such as this one?” Amir asked, looking at the aging Dryad. Elwood sat back but did not have to think long on the question.

“No, not in all my years have I heard of or known of such an incident like this,” he said thoughtfully.

“Then surely it can’t…” Amir began, but Elwood held up his hand.

“No law forbids it,” Elwood said, his words heavy with the weight of tradition, “yet it would be highly unlikely.”

“And yet, here we are with the highly unlikely,” Amir grumbled. Elwood smiled, but it did not reach his eyes.

“I know. As it stands, though, to base it off the law; of which I am sure your daughter understands…” Elwood started.

“I highly doubt she understands it. She is still a child,” Amir argued, interrupting Elwood.

“Like it or not, your daughter is a grown woman. Young I’ll admit, but still of age. You were going to have to face this fact sooner or later,” Elwood reminded. Amir growled.

“But with a teka,” Amir whispered with the shock and disbelief evident in his words.

“He’s not your normal teka,” Elwood reprimanded, gently. Amir sat quietly, but listening. “He is, by all accounts a son of the forest. Not this forest per se,” he quickly added before Amir could counter. “But then, neither are we.”

“Right,” Amir sighed. “But still, a teka being a child of the forest? How could that even be possible.”

“My brief and interrupted conversation with him revealed a lot, despite what happened,” Elwood told with a gentle reminder that he did not appreciate what had transpired. “Bard, that being his name, came from a forest north of here where he was raised by the elder tree whom he refers to as Father tree. He left and has been accepted by many other elders, hence these,” Elwood mumbled as he felt around for the cloth with the wooden tokens. Amir looked with keen interest as he presented them.

“What are they?” he asked, somewhat admitting he had misjudged his father’s reaction to seeing the item before all the chaos had started.

“In older times, these were highly sought after by Dryads, and few received them. I myself only have a few,” Elwood said as he procured a familiar necklace with similar wooden chips strung on it. Amir noted the difference in the amount and curiosity for the teka, Bard, began to set in. Begrudgingly, but nonetheless. He amended his first impressions, but it did little to dispel the heavy dislike and anger towards the race of tekas and the situation he found himself in.

“You’ve noticed how he has more than I?” Elwood asked, and Amir caught the other meaning behind that.

“He must have stolen them,” Amir spat, his prejudice clear, only to be countered by Elwood's patient explanation.

“If you think it’s that simple to receive one, then I have done you a disservice, my son. It can only be gifted and if I am correct, this Bard has one more on his person,” Elwood said.

“Where?” Amir asked. He was slightly suspicious of the tokens, and he had ordered his men to remove all equipment from the teka, so to learn that they hadn’t followed orders upset Amir.

“I’m not sure, but this pledge holds more weight than we would normally give credit to. Any son of the forest has every right to pledge their life to Sen,” Elwood stated at last. The color drained from Amir, then was replaced with red.

“I won’t accept it,” Amir said. “Besides, I doubt he even understands what it means.”

“But Sen would. And she was the one who claimed it, not Bard,” Elwood pointed out. Amir growled, and then his hands flew to the roots of his hair as he pulled on them in frustration.

“You only act this way because you worry for her,” Elwood thought to himself. He wouldn’t voice these thoughts, especially to his son. But it was only logical.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Sen?” a voice called, and she jumped in her seat, her head whipping around, her hair neatly floating out of her line of sight. Her eyes grew wide as she saw the Dryad she least expected to see her after being sent to her room.

“Dad?” she said, surprised and confused. She sat closer to the edge of her seat, allowing her father a place to sit next to her. Amir sat next to her, a surprising gesture, since he usually chose another chair in the room and pulled it up next to her.

“Is everything alright?” she asked at length. Amir looked at her and then sighed, his golden hair draping down in a more tamed way.

“Do you remember your mother?” Amir asked and Sen thought about it for a minute. Her eyes slowly closed, and she sighed a peaceful, happy sigh.

“Yes… when I close my eyes I can still see her, hear her, but each day her voice fades and the memory fades. It’s why I am glad I have that picture of her, or I’m afraid I would have forgotten what she looked like,” Sen said honestly. Amir looked where the picture hung on the wall. He squeezed her shoulders and she looked back at her father’s face.

“Sometimes,” he whispered. “Never mind. Tell me, do you really like that teka?” he asked, and she saw that he flinched when he said teka.

“His name is Bard, dad, and yes I do,” she finally answered.

“Even after all that the teka have done to us?” he asked, pained.

“Dad, just like every one of us is different, each teka is too,” she said, looking up at him.

“Besides the ones who took mother are long gone, you saw to that,” she pointed out softly.
Amir sighed and looked around the room before his eyes drifted back to her. Even if time had passed, it still hurt remembering what happened to the forest and his family those many decades ago.

“I don’t trust him Sen, and I don’t want to lose you,” A touch of emotion filled his voice as he spoke.

Sen was taken aback by her father's last statement, he was not known for showing his emotions, and she could tell that his concern for Bard wasn’t just due to his hatred for the teka but also for concern for her. She threw her arms around her dad and buried her face in his chest. Sen's heart ached for her father's understanding, her embrace a silent plea for trust. She felt him stiffen at her embrace, but after a second, he relaxed, and she felt him place his arm around her.

“You’re not going to lose me dad.” Sen muttered, “I don’t expect you to trust him yet; you don’t know him, but you know me.” Sen lifted her head to look her father in the eyes. “Trust me. I didn’t make this decision lightly.”

Amir started to say something, but Sen cut him off.

“All I’m asking is that you give him a chance. Will you do that… for me?”

Amir's silence stretched, each second heavy with decision. It was long enough that she worried what his answer would be. Without saying anything, he rose from the seat beside her and walked to the door. Silently, she watched his back retreat in a cold manner. She pled in her heart that he would listen to her, if not her, then to reason. She knew Bard was not like the others, and she felt safe with him. He paused at her door.

“Alright,” Amir finally said. “I don’t like this, but I will grant you your wish.” Without turning, he added, “But I also must be conscious of the safety of our people, so he will remain in confinement while he is here. Is that understood?”

“Y…yes, father,” Sen said. It was hard to contain her joy that Bard would be spared, but she tried to keep her voice steady, without emotion in case her father changed his mind.

“In accordance with our laws… Those who are pledged to a child of the woods must be judged by the Elder Tree. The trial will take place in three days.” Amir said, and then turned to face his daughter. “I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Sen, War Tree hates the teka even more than I do.” Then he turned and left the room.

Sen sat back in relief. She looked at the picture of her mother and sighed. She was not the same as her mother, a capable leader, and her father and grandfather had stepped up and taken care of things since she was still so young, but she wished they would allow her to take her place and trust her a bit more. She understood their worries, and she certainly hadn’t taken steps to curtail their view of her naivety, partially because she did fear being in charge, and being naive was fun sometimes.

If only she had known she would meet Bard and that he would run into the others. She might have been more authoritative before this. Then her mind began to wander in cycles. If she was in charge, she likely couldn’t have snuck out and found him, and she might not know enough to convince the others to let him live. It was a hard balance, trying to have freedom but also having authority.

She hummed a tune to calm herself and the tree swayed gently like it had when her mother had been here.

Her anxiousness eventually swayed into calm and she smiled. Bard would surprise them all. Perhaps this is what her mother had wanted when she said to find a way to make peace with the teka.