The Trials of Ildarwood: Spectres of the Fall, page 13
“Why isn’t your dad makin’ our picture?” Briyal asked Cora as they began walking forward, still arm in arm.
“Oh, who knows? Probably ’cause they’ve got that old fossil doin’ ’em instead. Her name’s Miss Grimble, and I heard my dad say once that she hasn’t been able to make a decent picture since his Trials.”
“So why do they still have her doin’ ’em?”
“No clue,” Cora answered with a shrug. “Maybe they’re just waitin’ for her to die.”
After rolling her eyes, Briyal turned her attention next to the group of boys mingling beside rows of wooden stands that had been set up to be different heights. Though she recognized a good number of the boys from school, there were dozens of others that she had never met. “I can’t believe this many families moved to Ranewood over the winter,” she whispered.
“Right? I think we might actually be outnumbered by all the new kids now.”
“See any cute ones?” Zavanna asked with her usual disinterested tone as she approached from behind.
“We weren’t really lookin’ for cute ones,” Briyal replied with a laugh.
“I kinda was,” Cora confessed before pointing toward a nameless face in the crowd. “What about him?”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s a girl,” Zavanna said. “What about Gage? I haven’t seen him yet. Oh, and I’m pretty sure that’s Tannus and Dustie hidin’ over there in the back.”
“Really? Where?” asked Cora.
“Behind all the uglies, weirdos, and freaks,” Zavanna replied, causing Briyal to cringe beside her.
“Whoa! Vander looks like he grew another foot!” Briyal hastily observed, hoping to shift Zavanna’s attention toward another boy nearby.
“Oh, and there’s Evin!” Cora announced, her voice a fair bit louder than she had intended. Hearing his name called out, a lanky boy with short black hair and a fair complexion spun around and stared in Cora’s direction. Then, with a fearful squeak, Cora swiftly ducked out of sight and hid behind Telara.
“Um, what is she supposed to be?” Zavanna asked the others, her gaze fixed upon a girl with exotic eyes and elaborate white hair. Dressed in pristine, colorless clothes instead of the traditional woodland tones of those around her, the girl stood near the Ildargate all by herself as she struggled to ignore all the whispers and stares she was attracting.
“I think she’s Astyrian,” Telara said, a stunned look upon her face.
“Oh, wow,” said Briyal. “I didn’t even know there were any Astyrians in Ranewood.”
“That’s probably ’cause they didn’t want anyone to know,” said Cora.
“Well, then maybe they should’ve colored her hair and given her somethin’ hideous to wear, like the rest of us,” Zavanna suggested with a huff.
“Why don’t we go say hi?” Briyal asked, always eager to meet someone new.
“Yeah, I think we’ve got enough friends right now,” Zavanna said, earning nods from everyone else even as Briyal still considered introducing herself.
“Let’s go! I haven’t got all day!” Miss Grimble shouted seconds later from behind her giant easel. “You all know how this works–tall ones in the back, short ones in the front, boys on the left, girls on the right, and everybody else in between. No, my left, not yours! Look where I’m pointing! There! Stand there!”
“Angry old bat,” Cora whispered as she stepped up onto the stands with her friends. “They should’ve just let my dad do this.”
Glaring impatiently at all the Ildarbound as they struggled to sort themselves as requested, Miss Grimble rested her hands upon her hips whenever she was not pointing and gesturing emphatically. “You! Yes, you! Scooch closer!” she demanded. “I can’t fit you all in the picture if you don’t all squeeze together! Closer! Closer! No, not you two–that’s close enough!”
“Sorry,” Zavanna said half-heartedly before smirking at Tannus and stepping a bit further away. Beside her, Briyal tried to hide her irritation as all the other girls nearby complained and shuffled about.
“Everyone smile. I’m almost ready,” Miss Grimble announced, moving behind the easel once the last group of Ildarbound had made its way through the gate. The only remnants of her they could see after that were the thick brown socks that protruded unevenly from a pair of ratty old shoes. Then, every once in a while, her head and thick spectacles would pop up over the top before disappearing again for several moments.
“I can’t see some of you in the back!” she shouted, waving her hand in the air.
“Try gettin’ thicker glasses,” Zavanna joked quietly through her smile, causing others around her to chuckle.
“Almost there! Almost. Just another minute.” But another minute came and went, then several more, before the Ildarbound there assembled began to whisper and grow anxious.
“What’s takin’ her so long?” Zavanna grumbled through her teeth.
“Maybe she fell asleep,” Cora whispered, still smiling as others laughed.
“I can’t keep smilin’ like this. It’s makin’ my face hurt,” Telara managed.
Yet it was Briyal, amongst them all, who stood alone in uneasy silence, neither laughing nor smiling as she began to wonder what had happened to the woman behind the easel.
“Is she paintin’ us or somethin’?” Cora asked before craning her neck to try to see what Miss Grimble was doing.
“Have you ever seen it take this long?” Briyal asked as two Preceptors finally approached the old woman, but Cora merely shook her head in response.
The first of the Preceptors to arrive beside Miss Grimble was an unusually short woman named Miss Gnomier, who placed her hand gently upon the old woman’s shoulder before recoiling suddenly and then glancing at the Ildarbound. Seconds later, she turned and whispered something to the bulbous, limping man who stood beside her.
“All righty, everyone,” Mr. Mondo said loudly, limping toward the Ildarbound. “If you could all please foll-ow me right this a-way, we’ll wrap things up for yas and then you can o-fficially start your Trials!”
“You think she’s okay?” Briyal asked Cora as they shuffled toward the edge of the stands.
“I hope not,” Cora replied. “My dad’s been waitin’ for this job for years.”
From the stands, Briyal and all the other Ildarbound followed Mr. Mondo toward the outer edge of the clearing. All the while, Briyal could not help but stare in the direction of the old woman behind the easel and wonder what had happened. Marching forward at a sluggish pace, the crowd prevented Briyal from seeing anything more than the top of the old woman’s easel for quite some time. Yet only once Briyal could finally see her face did Miss Grimble seem to sense her stare and cast her gaze in Briyal’s direction. The uncomfortable exchange lasted only for a second, but it was just long enough for Briyal to realize that the old woman’s eyes had turned almost completely white, and all that appeared to remain was the tiny black dots in the center.
It was Briyal’s sudden gasp that caught the other girls’ attention and stopped them all dead in their tracks. “What? What’s wrong?” they asked with alarm.
“Did you see what happened to her eyes?” Briyal whispered.
“No. Why?” asked Telara as she struggled to catch a glimpse herself.
“I think she turned into one of them,” Briyal said, causing the other girls to stare in the old woman’s direction.
“Well, at least now Cora’s dad can start doin’ all the pictures,” Zavanna noted. “He’s the only memory keeper in Ranewood who actually knows how to capture that little sparkle in my eyes that everyone always talks about when they meet me.”
Yet beside her, neither Briyal nor Telara was quite so quick to make light of what had happened. A sense of pity washed over them both as they continued their march toward the Ildarwood’s edge, for they knew as well as any that the old woman’s fate was only slightly less tragic than if she had suddenly died instead.
“You think there’s anything we can do?” Briyal asked remorsefully.
“I think it’s too late for that,” Telara answered.
And the last thing Briyal noticed before finally looking away was the image on the Ildarglass pane in front of the old woman. It was so very close to being finished, yet no matter how much Miss Grimble stared down at it, she could not seem to understand why her touch could no longer finish what it had started.
“Welcome to the Ildarwood!” a familiar voice called out from somewhere near the trees up ahead. Despite not being able to see through the crowd, Briyal could discern with absolute clarity that it belonged to the infamous Mrs. Brent. Flanked on both sides by a handful of Ildarguards, including her daughter Merielle, Delaniya wore her usual stern expression as she addressed the crowd before her.
“My name is Delaniya Brent,” she announced, “and I am Ranewood’s Principal Preceptor. That means my job is to work with all the other Preceptors out here to make sure each and every one of you is learning as much as possible before you are permitted to proceed deeper into the Ildarwood. It is also my job to work with this year’s Ildarguards to ensure that each and every one of you follows the rules and stays out of harm’s way while you’re out here. Both are jobs I happen to take very seriously.”
“Lara’s mom? Serious?” Cora whispered sarcastically. “That’s so unlike her.”
“Cora, shush!” Briyal insisted, refusing to risk Delaniya’s wrath if they got caught.
“During your first year,” Delaniya continued, “you will be restricted to the westernmost woods–an area of the forest between here and the Midwood Ridge, several miles to the east. We have done our best to clear everything between here and there of any significant threats to your health or well-being, but that does not mean you should assume these woods are safe. In fact, I would recommend against any such beliefs.
“You see, the Trials are meant to be challenging, and I can promise you now that they will be. You will need to learn how to protect yourselves from any number of dangers. You will need to learn a craft or take on an occupation if you want to earn enough Starlings for food and supplies. You will need to work together to overcome various obstacles on the roads ahead, and you will need to stay strong during difficult times if you have any desire to survive.”
There’s that word again, Briyal thought upon hearing the word “survive.” She had never imagined that such a beautiful place could ever truly pose a threat, but with each passing moment, her sense of dread only grew.
“Assuming you can reach the very center of the Ildarwood,” Delaniya continued, “you will find that one final Trial awaits you–one that can only be completed on your own. Succeed at that, and up to ten thousand Starlings will be yours to spend however you wish when you return. Consider that your reward for years of perseverance despite all the challenges you will no doubt face. And although I can assure you here and now that the years ahead will not be easy, try to keep in mind that countless young people just like you have completed Trials just like these for thousands of years before you, so as long as you work hard and stick to the paths we’ve laid out, you should have no problem seeing them through to the end.
“And now for a few words of caution,” Delaniya added, her tone somehow becoming even graver. “The laws and traditions out here are very clear. You cannot inflict physical harm on others or put anyone’s life in danger. You cannot engage in any form of attack against Preceptors or anyone else who is not Ildarbound, like yourselves. And now that you are Ildarbound, you should know that you are expressly prohibited from leaving the Ildarwood until your Trials are complete. You may be accustomed to siblings, family, or friends returning home from the Ildarwood each winter when the heavy snows fall, but what you may not know is that the more time an Ildarbound spends outside the Ildarwood, the weaker their soul becomes. Linger too long outside these woods, and I think you all know by now what will become of you.”
Glancing back one last time at Miss Grimble, Briyal’s heart broke upon seeing the two Preceptors struggling to help her understand what had happened.
“Which reminds me,” Delaniya continued. “When the Trials become truly challenging and you find yourselves thinking about either giving up or breaking one of our few unbreakable rules, you should strongly consider the consequences. Selyrian law makes it clear that there is no room in our society for those who cannot complete this journey, so should you fail, surrender, or be expelled at any point in time before you are officially permitted to leave, you will then be forced to choose between two very unpleasant punishments: either you can allow your spirit to be Broken so that the remainder of your life is spent in silent servitude, or you can accept banishment to the Lands Beyond Our Lands, where endless suffering and a meaningless death are sure to await you.”
“Please tell me she’s just tryin’ to scare us,” Briyal whispered anxiously.
“I don’t think she is,” Telara replied, amazed that her mother had found an entirely new way to terrify all her friends.
“Now, on to brighter things,” Delaniya said. “Somewhere up ahead, you will find an outpost we have established to help you acclimate to your new surroundings. Westwatch sits somewhere near the center of the westernmost woods, and you will be able to spot its namesake tower from a distance, assuming you can find a high enough place from which to look. Inside, you will find a library, a Silverward, an Ildarguard barracks, and my office. The tower is also surrounded on all sides by a number of small shops, where you can find food, supplies, and various options for both training and employment, including the Westwatch kitchens, should you have any desire to learn that particular craft.”
Thinking briefly of her mother, who ran the fabled kitchens of Westwatch, Briyal could not help but smile. If nothing else, seeing her would at least be one thing she could always look forward to.
“As for today,” said Delaniya, “you all have quite a challenge ahead of you. Behind me, you will find satchels containing enough food and supplies to last most Ildarbound three days. Should you have any desire to survive beyond that, I recommend finding a safe place to sleep and a reliable way to earn enough Starlings for additional food and supplies. Neither will be free. In this forest, everything must be earned, regardless of your name, your past, or your ability, so if the challenges within are too difficult to overcome all on your own, join a pack and combine your talents with those around you. If you can learn to leverage each other’s strengths, then no obstacle you face out here will ever be too great. But choose instead to survive off the suffering of others, then consider yourself forewarned–the Ildarwood always finds some way to punish those who inflict suffering on those who don’t deserve it.”
“Still looking forward to a leisurely stroll through the woods now?” Cora whispered to Briyal.
“She’s just tryin’ to scare us,” Briyal insisted, though not entirely convinced of it herself. “I mean, they wouldn’t make us all come out here if it really was that dangerous, right?”
“In the event you find yourselves in danger,” Delaniya continued, causing a sharp pain in Briyal’s stomach, “each satchel contains a single spectral flare. To call for help, simply ignite it with a twist; then point it into the air like so. Once detected, the nearest Preceptor or Ildarguard will be dispatched to try and save you.”
“Well, there goes that theory,” Cora mumbled.
Then, with stern finality, Delaniya concluded, “Those are the only instructions you will receive. From this point on, you are on your own, so good luck, and may the Eye of An’tumbe watch over you.”
An uncomfortable silence followed as over two hundred Ildarbound exchanged confused expressions and whispered amongst themselves.
After rolling her eyes impatiently, Delaniya waited only a moment more before shouting, “That means go. Now!” Then, without any further hesitation, the gathered Ildarbound all rushed forward to grab the nearest satchel before swiftly sifting through its contents.
“They really expect this to last us three days?” Cora asked, horrified at the meager rations of fruit, bread, and water she found buried beneath a blanket inside.
“Are you serious? This’ll last me a whole week,” Zavanna replied.
“That’s ’cause you never eat.”
“That’s not true! I just nibble.”
“Somethin’ about this doesn’t feel right,” Briyal suddenly announced, staring out into the Ildarwood as a deep sense of dread began to churn within her stomach. “I don’t think we should go out there.”
“Um, we don’t exactly have a choice,” Cora reminded her, but still Briyal could not shake the inexplicable sense of danger that made her heart race faster and faster as she watched dozens of Ildarbound enter the woods.
“Then maybe we should find a larger group,” Briyal suggested, looking around for any other faces she trusted in the dwindling crowd still surrounding her. Only then did she notice the girl in white staring at her from the rabble of misfits that had begun to form around Willen. “Why don’t we just go with them?”
“You can’t be serious,” Telara replied. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Willen led that whole group off a cliff just to see what happened when they fell.”
“Oh, come on,” Briyal countered. “He’s not that bad.” Yet the words had barely left her mouth before Willen began poking Geonis, Jarryn, and anyone else within reach with the pointy end of an Ildarwood stick, just so he could hear them shriek.
“I’m sorry. You were sayin’?” Cora replied, her arms crossed tightly as she stared at Briyal with smug satisfaction.
“I didn’t say we had to follow him for long,” said Briyal. “I just don’t think it’d be safe for the four of us to go out there all on our own, considerin’ we have literally no idea what’s out there. Besides, haven’t any you ever heard of the expression ‘safety in numbers’?”
