Part III - Persuasions

Nárhin was furious. One week had gone since the Trial, and he was beginning to accept the turn of events, as was Fendil is seemed. At first he had been very surprised, of course, but in the end he knew that there was nothing anyone of them could do about it. The incident with Demoira had caused some commotion, but eventually Nárhin had been able to persuade him not to go back there and make a scene. All in all, the situation had resolved pretty well, Nárhin thought. 1

Therefore it had come as a very unpleasant surprise when Fendil earlier this morning had brought up the subject of common school. Ordinary, boring, stupid common school. Nárhin made a small jump in anger and beat his clenched fist against the slanted ceiling of his room, where he was currently pacing back and forth in frustration. 2

Stupid Fendil, he thought. Why should he go to school? What was the point with it, now that Ingolë was definitely closed for him? He was certainly not going to become a mundane scholar! That was not for him, how could Fendil not see that? 3

The subject of common school was not completely new to him, of course. They had talked about it in the case he would not pass the Trial, but on those occasions there had always been implied that, if he failed, he would continue to apply until he eventually passed. School age among the elves were normally that of ten years, just like for Ingolë, so those who did not pass their first Trial usually began in the local school – or studied at home if they had the possibility – where they would begin their non-arcane studies. That way they would not be hopelessly behind when their gift finally bloomed and they could transfer to Ingolë. 4

However, since Nárhin knew for certain that he was never going to pass the Trial, and that he was in fact devoid of all magic gift, he could not see the point in common school. Not at all. He already was a fairly proficient reader, having been taught by Fendil a few years ago, and his knowledge in mathematics was decent for a ten-year-old, since Fendil had insisted that they cover that subject as well. 5

He was just about to kick his chair to get some variation from hitting the ceiling, but stopped as he heard footsteps approaching up the staircase. A few seconds later there was a quick knock on the door, but before he had time to answer, Nolwëndil entered the room, accustomed as he was to coming and going as he pleased. He and Nárhin had grown up as close as brothers, very much due to the fact that Nolwëndil's mother, Sèra, had helped to breastfeed Nárhin when he was an infant. Thus they did not stop to think twice about their unusual friendship, but not many elves and humans had ever lived that close. The elf who had advised Fendil not to bring Nárhin with him that day ten years ago had had a point; due to the shorter lifespan of humans, they had to mature faster than elves and this often caused problems. Elves, who lived more than twice the age of humans, could easily spend a couple of decades on an interesting “project” and still feel that they had time to do other things with their life. Therefore they had little understanding for the ways of the impatient humans. Thankfully, this was not yet a concern for the young boys. 6

“Hey, Nárhin,” Nolwëndil said. “What are you up to?”7

“Hey,” Nárhin answered gloomily as he sat down on his bed with a thud. “Father wants me to go to school. My life is ruined!”8

“Oh... but, why don't you want to go to school? You wanted to go to Ingolë. I know it's not the same,” he hurriedly added as he saw Nárhin's face, “but still, school is important, don't you think?” 9

“Please, not you too,” Nárhin said irritably. “You sound like father. Of course I know school is important, but I already know how to read and do math. What more do I need to know?” 10

“How about history and politics? Foreign languages?” 11

“To what point? Do you really think that I, as a human, will ever be allowed into politics, or have the chance to meet foreign people? I'm stuck here for life, doomed to become some, some... I don't know, some shoemaker's apprentice.” He spat out the last. “What need do I have for politics? I'm not going to Miramoon like you.” He knew he was being unfair, but he couldn't stop himself. 12

“I'm sorry Nárhin, I didn't think about it like that,” Nolwëndil said quietly. “I guess I haven't really thought about what you will do now.” As Nárhin was quiet, he added, “Is there any craft you like? Do you have any idea of what you want to do instead?” 13

Nárhin remained quiet for a while, appearing reluctant to answer. “It doesn't matter anyway,” he mumbled, finally. 14

“Of course it matters,” Nolwëndil encouraged. “What is it you want to do?”15

“You will laugh,” Nárhin said. 16

“Hey, don't be like that. I'm your best friend, of course I won't laugh.” 17

Nárhin took a deep breath, and then in a single exhale he said, “I was thinking about becoming a fighter.” He met Nolwëndil's stare with a steady gaze of his own. “Say what you want, but I think I can do it.” 18

Nolwëndil opened his mouth a few times before he found his words. “But, but... That is brilliant!” he finally exclaimed. His face broke into a big grin. “I guess we are both going to Miramoon after all.” 19

Nárhin's eyes gleamed, and his dull mood was if it had never existed. “Yes I know. We will be at different places of course, but still. Later in our education we might even get to do missions together, just like father and Vanrod did!”20

“Wow! Yes, that would be awesome!” Nolwëndil was just as excited as Nárhin. “But where did you come up with the idea to begin with?” he asked his friend. 21

“Actually, I've been thinking about it for some time. I've always thought it would be exciting, you know, but I never really considered it since I always thought I was going to Ingolë, as if it was my destiny. After the Trial, I suddenly had the opportunity to choose whatever I wanted, and I've been thinking about it ever since.” He couldn't help but grin at the surprise in his friend's face. 22

“What does Fendil say, though?” Nolwëndil asked. 23

“Umm, he doesn't know yet,” Nárhin said with a grimace. “And I'm afraid I already know his answer, too. He'd be afraid I would get hurt.” He sighed, but didn't want to brood over such a detail right now. He was much to happy that Nolwëndil supported and believed in his idea. 24

The conversation then continued on to more general topics, like how life would be for them in Miramoon, or what they would like to work with when they were finished with their education. An outsider would probably have smiled at the boys excited talk about things that lay more years into their future than they had yet lived. 25

***26

Nárhin's suspicion was confirmed later that afternoon. As he had feared, Fendil was adamant and would not even discuss the matter with him, something that resulted in Nárhin storming away in anger for the second time that day. 27

During the days that followed, Nárhin avoided Fendil as much as he could, spending his time outside in the colourful autumn forest. He visited his bear friends a couple of times, and took long hikes along hidden animal trails where not even the elves used to go. During those hikes he was often accompanied by different animals who twittered or squeaked happily at his presence. 28

All the while his mind was wrestling with the problem at hand. How was he supposed to convince Fendil to allow him to go to Miramoon and the Royal Academy of Warfare? It didn't matter what he said, Fendil didn't listen to him. In this, he needed someone who could argue with Fendil on equal terms, and who would understand Nárhin. Thus, on the third day after talking to Fendil, Nárhin sought out Vanrod to ask for help. 29

“Nárhin, I don't know what I can do,” Vanrod said. “Fendil is your legal custodian until you turn twenty, and until then you must accept his decisions. Besides, he only has your best interest in mind, and he is right about the danger accompanying the warrior trade.”30

“But you chose to be a fighter,” Nárhin protested. “It was just as dangerous for you. Why shouldn't I be allowed the same chance?” 31

At this, Vanrod actually blushed a little. “Yes, you are right. I must admit than my parents were not overjoyed by my decision either. But I was older than you are now when I made my choice. You are too young to go to the Academy. They only accept recruits above the age of fifteen years, and unless you are above twenty years, you must have your parents' permission.” 32

“But, the sooner I start the better I will be, and the better I am the safer I will be, right?” Nárhin was not about to drop this without a fight. 33

“Well, yes, I suppose you are right about that,” Vanrod had to admit. He was a little unprepared by the sharp arguments coming from such a young mind. 34

“Then, couldn't you teach me until I am of age? I promise to do as you say.” Nárhin looked up at Vanrod with big, hopeful eyes. 35

“What?! Are you out of your mind, Nárhin? Fendil would skin me alive, or worse, if I did that.” Vanrod shook his head in emphasis. 36

“But, doesn't the recruits at the Academy need to have at least some basic skills? I cannot go there unprepared.” The sinking feeling in his chest coloured his voice, and he had a burning sensation in his eyes. 37

Vanrod wasn't unaffected by the boy's genuine disappointment. If it had been anyone else who had asked, he would simply have said no and refused to discuss it further, but this was Nárhin, the boy who was as a brother to his own son. He knew that Sèra viewed Nárhin as nothing short of a second son, and he cared deeply for the boy too. He also knew that, as a human, Nárhin would have a lot of difficulties to succeed in elven society. The racism against what was viewed by many elves as the weaker race would cause him many hardships as he grew up, and finding a meaningful, stimulating job would certainly provide a challenge. 38

To be honest, pursuing a career as a fighter was not a bad idea per see for a human. In the special community that was the warriors, race was less of an importance than was honour, determination and skill with a blade. However, even here he would have difficulties due to the physical superiority of elves, and of course there was the ever present danger of getting killed or maimed. 39

Vanrod sighed heavily. Why couldn't the boy have a burning desire to become a librarian instead? That would make things so much easier. But on the other hand, that would probably give him a dull, uninteresting life, and that was nothing he wished upon the child. And he had to admit that he himself had lived a very good life so far, and managed just fine. Sure, he had been injured on numerous occasions, sometimes seriously. But he had prevailed, and the experience it had given him made him appreciate life so much more. No, he could not rightly say that the boy was wrong in his desire. It was just that, well, this was Nárhin. It was someone he knew, and cared for. And more than that, it was his best friend's child. He knew what Fendil would say, but in his mind he knew he was defeated. 40

“I will talk to Fendil, but I cannot promise you anything,” he said to Nárhin. The overjoyed hug he got in return said it all. 41

***42

“What?! How can you support this, Vanrod?” Fendil was very upset and almost yelled at Vanrod, who sat calmly in the kitchen. 43

“Calm down,” he said. “I don't like it either, but you must face the facts. Nárhin wants to do this, and you know as well as I do that he will find one way or another to do it, even if that means defying you.”44

“And just how do you know this?” Fendil asked. “This could just as well be a way of expressing disappointment over the failed Trial. He will come to his senses soon enough.”45

“Actually, I don't think so,” Vanrod said. “You know how stubborn he can be. If you forbid him to do this, he won't let it go. But if you allow him to try, then he might find out that it is not for him. And if not, well, then he will at least have a solid ground to build on, which I must say is to prefer over him running away to join the army as soon as he can pass for fifteen. And Fendil, that is not too many years from now. Tell me I'm wrong.” 46

Fendil opened and closed his mouth several times, but no sound came out. His shoulders dropped and he sagged a bit, as if his strength had left him. He sat down on a kitchen chair and put his hands in his lap, turning them over. “But he is my little boy,” he said, so quiet it was almost inaudible. “I don't want him to get hurt.” He looked up at Vanrod, who sympathetically gazed back at him. 47

“I know, my friend, I know. But I honestly think it is better to allow him to play this off rather than denying him the chance and possibly only make him more stubborn in his pursue of his goal. This could very well be something temporary as you say, be the only way to find out is to let him discover it by himself.”
Fendil looked up at Vanrod, hope flickering in his eyes. “You really think so?” 48

“Yes. The shock of reality may very well make him loose his nerve altogether. And I suggest you make him a deal; as long as he study what you lay out for him, he gets to practice with me. This way, everyone wins. And in any case, some experience in self defence can hardly be harmful.” 49

Fendil sighed, but just as Nárhin had convinced Vanrod, Vanrod had convinced him in turn. In one last attempt he said, “But you have no time to teach him.” 50

Vanrod smiled. “You know, after all the time you have spent on Nolwëndil, teaching him about his gift, I actually think I am obliged to do this. Besides, I really don't mind; I might actually enjoy having a student.” 51

With that it was decided that Nárhin should begin his training already the next week, because as Fendil said, the sooner he began, the sooner he might come to his senses. Once again he had no idea of how wrong he was. 52