“Why not? It’s easier to walk here.”

“That’s a caravan trail. Some travellers still pass through the trail. Not all of them are nice. Anyway, if we’re under the trees, we’ll still be in Oldbark’s domain. So we’ll be safe. He’d hide us.”

“That’s reassuring,” said the elf. “So, how long we have to walk?”

“A few days.”

“A few days? Why don’t you ask Oldbark to enchant our route again. I’ll be ten times faster.”

“We’re no longer under Oldbark’s canopy. That magic doesn’t go this far.”

“But you said that he could still protect us.”

“Yes. His roots are still under us. Some magic still works. But that will ends after the first tributary. After that, we’re on our own. We’ve to go all the way to the third tributary and then follow that tributary up north. We’ll reach a place called the Elbow’s Creek. There, hopefully, I will find my pea.”

“Where are we, exactly?”

“We’re along the Little Arwen, the name we usually use for the northerly offspring of Mother Arwen, though the map of the fish doesn’t go by that name. The birth place was all the way back there.” The little girl turned and pointed in a direction that was already obscured by tall trees. “It’s called the Big Fork. You were lucky that you were swept into the Little Arwen. If you went into the other one, you’d go right into the lands of the reps. And they’ll probably eat you alive. They like raw meats.”

The elf was aghast. He did not know that such barbaric cannibalistic practice still carried on in these parts. “What’s a rep?”

“The reptilians,” the little girl explained but by looking at his confusion, she elaborated, “The rep is a family name given to the beings descended from the reptiles. Mainly, snakes, lizards, crocodiles, and alligators. They all come from the region over there.” She pointed to the land opposite. “Their lands start from the opposite bank and go all the way to the south-westerly seas. It’ll take several walkmonths to cross.”

Darius began to make some calculations in his head and worked out that their land size was slightly smaller than the combined land area settled by the elves. From a military angle, this really meant that they were a formidable enemy. “Is it really that large?”

“Yes. It’s all theirs now. It was formed by the southerly Little Arwen. She branches off like tree roots, into so many little rivers, streams and brooks that the whole land are puddles of water like swamps, bogs and marshes. The reps originated from them. And there’re also the amps, or the amphibians. Frogs, toads, newts and salamanders. Together, they’re called the herps. So, don’t ever attack anyone of them. They’re all family. They’ll gang-up on you. They have their differences and feuds but to the outsiders, they are a united front. The cold-blooded sticks together.”

The light was failing as the sun was sinking fast. They were approaching the end of their walk for today.

“We should make camp soon,” said Darius. “I don’t think we should be walking around in the forest at night.”

“It’ll be fine. It’s safe here. We’re still in Oldbark’s domain. Let’s walk some more and we’ll pick a spot to rest.”

After another hour of walking, they stopped at a small clearing. It looked like a good place to rest. Oldbark had already grown some berries for them. This time they were red in colour. They looked like cherries.

Elena said that they could rest here. There was no need to build a camp since Oldbark would look after them. Vicious animals would be steered away.

“Better eat some berries,” she said.

Darius was already at them. “I liked the ones in the morning better. These ones are sour. And spicy!”

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

The girl sat on a log and also ate some. “These are called redberries. They are eaten at night and they’ll keep you warm. In the morning, Oldbark will grow the blackberries.”

As soon as the berries went into the stomach, the elf felt a burning sensation slowly building up and spreading outwards into every parts of his body. After a while, even his fingers and toes felt warm. It made him feel strong and energetic.

“Feel the warmth inside you. The cold won’t get you the whole night. But let’s start a fire anyway. It can get pretty damp and dark.”

Darius went around the resting spot to pick up some dry woods. He made a few trips to gather enough woods but he had no idea on how to start a fire since his firestarter was lost in the river. He also had no idea why he was being so obliging to the little girl. Walking this far out into the forest with her, going on a peculiar quest, her quest, and picking up all these dirty fire woods were not in his repertoire – especially collecting fire woods, there would always be someone who would collect them for him. But since it was all done for a little girl, Darius thought that it was tolerable.

“I got enough woods to build us a campfire. But how are we going to start a fire? I lost my firestarter back at the river.”

“What’s a firestarter?”

“It starts a fire.” the elf explained as he began to arrange the woods into a pile suitable for a campfire. “It’s a gadget made by the dwarves. It’s like a pair of small knives. You brush one against the other, and there’ll be sparks and the sparks will light up the tinder and the tinder will light up the woods. There’re better firestarters. The gas type will light up like a candle when you pull the trigger. But we don’t bring those out this far cause the gas runs out quickly. We’ll have to bring the gas to re-gas them. Those canisters are really heavy.”

“They are made by the dwarves too?”

“Yes. They make a lot of things and we buy a lot of things from them. The gas lantern, the gas stove, well, all the gas stuffs. We also buy other things from them, mainly steel products, like knives, weapons, armours, … pots and pans, etcetera.”

“It seems that the dwarves know how to make a lot of things.”

“Yes, they do. They are industrious. And they like to make money, hoards gold and gems.”

“But couldn’t the fish make them themselves?”

”We don’t make them anymore. It’s tedious. It’s a waste of time. Why make them when you can buy them? We have even sold the tools and equipment to the dwarves. So they make them for us now. And they also sell them to the coastal cities and traders. But they only make the common stuffs, the laborious stuffs, the boring stuffs. We, elves, we now only make the better stuffs, the cool stuffs.” Darius seemed to be happier when he was talking about the good things of the elves and he was an expert in building a campfire lay. He had just finished arranging the smaller fire woods into a cone and was beginning to arrange the larger ones around the cone in a squarish log cabin style.

“Like what?” the girl asked.

“Like … like …” The elf was searching for an example. “Like this Turtle Patch, here, on my neck. The dwarves don’t know how to make these. And look at this sleeve arrow.” Darius quickly placed the two largest pieces on the ground, at the opposite sides of the square and showed the gadgets inside his sleeve to Elena. It looked like a metal wrist guard, covering a large part of the forearm. The elbow-end was thicker and as it tapered down towards the front, tiny holes, geometrically arranged to form the vertices of a parallelogram mesh, were bore right into the greyish metal. No doubt, these were the opening of the firing tubes in which the tiny arrows, slightly larger than the size of sewing needles, were lodged. One could only imagine the intricacy of the firing mechanism, the system of springs and gears, neatly hidden within that thin thickness of the contraption.

“It can fire as many as 33 arrows at one go.”

“Those should be called needles, not arrows.”

“No, they are called arrows. Needles are for sewing. It’s too feminine to be a name for a weapon.” Darius then placed the next two largest pieces perpendicularly on top of the first two so now, they formed a square around the conic tinder pile.

“But what is so good about them? Some tiny roots are enough to stop them.”

“Roots don’t usually grow into them,” Darius rebuked. He was annoyed that his weapon no longer worked because some conscious tree had grown roots into them. “I’ll get it fix soon. And then, you can see their power. Anyway, this is a mini version. The real one is actually a part of the gauntlet. It can fire many types of projectiles. It can fire discblades and strandshots and even a spidernet. If I have that, I would have cut the lizardman into cubes.” The thought of being able to do that made his wounded pride a little easier to heal.

“Well, Oldbark doesn’t want you to shoot any animals in the forest. It’s not good to shoot animals on a whim.”

“I won’t simply shoot any animals.” The elf said that with a sort of a heavy heart for he suddenly remembered some of his occasional bravado with his fellow friends. He had already stacked a few levels of woods and the pile looked like a miniature cabin suitable for keeping chicken. When he ran out of the larger pieces, he used the smaller pieces to build smaller squares until they were small enough that he made a roof with the remaining twigs.

He continued, saying “You really think shooting animals is bad. What about shooting animals for food? Does that make the shooting or killing better?”