Aran’s Compassion, A Mother’s Love — Part 2

After finding a baby girl abandoned in Aran, Funi and the Aranians, along with a pair of elves, begin the search for where Forvitni came from to discover her true name.

Early the next morning, Funi awoke to find Brothya, Chana, and the elves were already awake. The light from the sun was just breaking through the trees. The elves were stowing their gear while Chana was nursing Forvitni. This left Brothya to tend the fire and prepare a quick breakfast for the others.

Seeing that Funi was now awake, Chana said, “Forvitni does seem to like berries, Ma’hal. I got her to take a couple of blackberries with no fuss.”

Funi tilted her head at hearing this. “That is good to hear. I tried to give her one last night. She took it, but didn’t seem to care for it. How old do you think she is?”

Chana rubbed her forehead as she looked down at Forvitni. “She doesn’t seem to be teething and her arms and knees show no wear. I think she was born in the spring. Maybe six months.”

“I am thinking about the same.”

Meorise stopped what she was doing and said, “I could never understand why some humans would abandon a child like her. There are other options than to leave her to die like that.”

“We are from different worlds with different views and practices. Just as many humans do not understand your love affairs and partners.”

“The reasons I have heard are many, and none makes sense to me. I think if you were to travel all of Aran and ask every Aranian, you still wouldn’t have a concise answer. I know you view it as a barbaric practice, and I agree. What matters at this moment is we found her and now she has a chance at a full life.”

“Then Ma’hal, let us finish here and see if we can give her a gift to enjoy that life with. Her true name,” Rolim said with emphasis.

Funi awoke the others, and they had a quick breakfast of berries and a bite of sweet bread that the elves provided. When they were done, Delea and Kason packed what supplies they thought they may need for the day’s journey, should they find the tracks of the one who abandoned Forvitni.

As Funi and Chana left to go bathe Forvitni and wash her old clothes, Meorise and Rolim started searching the area.

The pond that they were heading for was not far off and full of reeds. There were a few places that were free of reeds that were large enough for the women to bathe Forvitni and wash her dress and blanket. One such area had a stone just below the surface of the water that Chana set Forvitni on. When she did, the girl squealed with displeasure and squirmed to get out.

“I think someone does not like baths, Ma’hal.”

“Then you should make it quick. We don’t want to upset her too much,” Funi said with a laugh, as she beat Forvitni’s things on a rock to clean. When she had them cleaned to her liking, she found a branch of a tree to dry. “It seems like it will be a warm day, so it shouldn’t take her clothes long to dry.”

“Aye, but what I could see of the sky this morning it was red. We may have a storm coming in.”

Funi cocked her head. “All the more reason for you to get Forvitni back home. Come, let us go back to the others. I’ll return for Forvitni’s things later.” As the two made ready to return to their camp, Funi stopped to pick a few cattails and put them in her pouch.

When they reached the camp, Kason was the only one there but greeted them with good news. “Meorise and Rolim think they have found tracks. Now what we know we are looking for, Brothya and I can track them.”

“Good, but where is everyone?”

“The aelves are scouting ahead and Brothya is showing Delea how to follow these tracks. They should return shortly.”

“In which direction did they go?” Funi asked.

Kason pointed along the base of the rise. “That way, between the route you took to the pond and the trail we were using yesterday.”

Funi walked over to the remains of the fire and began tamping it out. “While we wait for them to return, let us start making ready to go. We will leave the shelter up. There may be foul weather later today and will stop here if there is.”

The three women set about their task and were nearly complete when all but Meorise returned. The three approached with a slow, measured pace. “Is something wrong?” Funi asked when she saw them approach.

“We lost the tracks, Mother. They crossed a stream and we couldn’t pick them back up.” Delea hung her head. “We failed.”

Brothya’s face darkened in response. “No, we did not fail. We only found one set of tracks, those leading here. We know someone brought Forvitni here, so there has to be a second set of tracks leading away. Whoever brought her here either tried to conceal their leaving, or left by another path.”

“It may be that whoever we are looking for used the stream to hide their path. Meorise is still looking there while we look again, here, for other tracks,” Rolim said, nodding in agreement with Brothya.

Funi narrowed her eyes some. “Delea, while there is a chance, then we must seize it. Brothya, you and Chana go ahead and return home. The rest of us will search again and join with Meorise.”

“Yes, Ma’hal,” Chana and Brothya said together and started gathering what they were to take back to their home. After they said their farewells, they departed.

The remaining four scoured the camp and the surrounding area, looking for more tracks, but did not find any useful ones. Delea and Rolim stopped searching and stood up, as if listening for something. Delea started to say something when Rolim waved his hand for her to be quiet.

A moment later, Delea asked in a lowered tone, “Was that Meorise?”

Rolim beamed a smile at the others. “It was. She has our quarry’s tracks again.”

“I heard nothing but a bird,” Kason said.

“It was a sage thrush,” Rolim said. “A bird that would not be in the woods and also would have already gone north for the coming winter. Meorise imitated its call to signal us.”

“Rolim, we need to go back to the pond to get Forvitni’s things before we join up with your wife. I left them there to dry after washing them. Let me have your wife’s pack.”

Rolim reached down and picked both of the elves’ packs up, saying, “Very well, Ma’hal” After handing his wife’s pack to Funi, he then shouldered his own. The other two women quickly grabbed the remaining supplies from their camp and made ready to leave.

The group made its way back to the pond where Funi retrieved Forvitni’s blanket and dress while the others refilled the water skins. From there, they made their way around the pond to a game trail on the other side of the stream that drained the pond. Once they reached the trail, Rolim stopped and examined the ground and plants. It only took him a moment for him to find what he was looking for. “Meorise is this way,” he said, pointing to the south-west.

As they followed the trail, they would periodically stop so Rolim could look for more signs from his wife that they were on the correct trail. Sometimes when they halted, Delea would assist Rolim looking for markers and study what Meorise had left for them to follow.

On the fourth such pause in their trek, Rolim asked Delea, “Have you worked with elves before? You recognized my wife’s call and you seem to find her marks without too much difficulty.”

“Her bird call sounded… wrong,” Delea said as her face grimaced and she twirled her hands. “When I heard it, even though it sounded like a bird, I knew it wasn’t a bird. The rhythm was wrong. The rhythm reminded me of a turndun.”

“As for her marks, they just seem out of place. I can’t explain it other than they don’t look right, but they don’t tell me anything other than we are on the right path.”

Funi and Rolim both nodded. “That says volumes, my daughter. You know she passed this way tracking who ever left Forvitni. That knowledge alone would allow us to follow her, even without Rolim’s aid.”

“And now that you’ve seen her mark, what does it tell you?” Rolim asked.

Delea looked at what she thought was Meorise’s mark. It was a vine draped between two trees that ran parallel to the trail. “I think she is saying we continue to follow the trail,” Delea said, biting her lower lip.

Nodding in approval, Rolim said, “Yes, but how far?”

“To the edge of Aran? No, that can’t be right. She couldn’t have gone to the edge and back so fast.”

Rolim reached out to the vine and fingered one leaf near the tree in the direction they were to go. A split ran from its point to its spine. “There is a fork in the path up ahead. That is where we will find her next mark.”

“Rolim, you should be careful what you teach her. She is clever as she figured out on her own cattail and resin makes for a good fire starter,” Kason said, laughing.

Funi’s eyes narrowed at her daughter. “We will have words later about that. For now, let us catch up with Meorise.”

Again, they set off along the trail, walking in single file. It was late morning and the air in the forest was cool and would have made for a pleasant journey if not for the weight of their quest. To both the Aranians and the elves, a person’s birth name was invaluable, especially a child’s. The Aranians viewed it as a link to their past and a parent’s hope of who the child may become. For the elves, it was something more, something much deeper.

The fork in the trail was only thirty or forty yards from the last marker Meorise had left them. It only took a moment for Delea and Rolim to find the markers. “Now, we wait for Meorise. She is checking the southern fork.”

While the three women waited, Rolim examined the ground along the trail. He had just bent down to look at a second spot when his head snapped up a split second before a cry of “Aye,” rang out. Rolim stood up with a grin on his face.

Shortly afterwards, Meorise ran up to the fork. She was sweating and her breathing was heavy. “You’ve caught up with me. Good,” she said between deep breaths.

“Yes. You left an easy trail for us to follow. But why hurry?” Rolim asked.

Meorise closed her eyes and nodded. “Water first.”

Funi handed her one of the water skins. After taking a sip, Meorise took a handful and splashed it on her face. “Are you hurrying so you can meet the pilgrims?”

After taking another sip of water and while rubbing some on the back of her neck, Meorise said, “No. It is a fear that Forvitni’s name will disappear on the wind.” She took another sip of water. “I see signs a storm may be coming and did not want to lose the trail. Fortunately, the tracks become clear on the other side of the stream.”

“Then once you have rested, we can resume,” Kason said.

Shaking her head, Meorise said, “No, I am good. I was in more need of water than rest. Thank you for bringing my pack. I can take it now.”

“I’ll carry it a while longer so you can rest some,” Funi said, holding up her hand. “We appreciate what you are doing for Forvitni. If you are ready, let us resume.”

With that, they set off down the southern fork. They crossed over the stream shortly thereafter, and as Meorise had said, their quarry’s tracks were clear. So much so that Delea and Kason could track them easily. They continued along the trail, and after about an hour, they emerged from Aran near a well-worn cart path.

Here, the tracks were again easy to follow. Delea and the elves quickly picked them back up and they lead towards a small farming village a few miles from the forest.

It was now late afternoon, and the group stopped to rest where the tracks turned down a second cart path.

“I know this village and they are none too keen on aelves. So, I think this is where we part company. Again, we thank you for your help,” Funi said, handing Meorise her pack.

“No. Unless my wife chooses otherwise, we will wait for you here. We are too caught up in this not to know Forvitni’s true name.”

As an answer to Rolim, Meorise put her pack on the ground and sat down next to it. “I would say we would accompany you to the town, but I sense you think our presence would cause problems, so we will wait here.”

“Then we share a meal before the three of us go to Stavir,” Funi said as she helped her daughter take her pack off. Soon the five had a short quick meal of berries and dried venison that Chana had brought the evening before. When they were done, the elves wished them good luck as the Aranians made ready and set off to Stavir.

Patrick S. Smith is a retired vet venturing into the world of poetry and short stories on Medium. If you like or dislike it, please feel free to leave a comment. I can be followed at The Writings of Patrick S. Smith