The Longest Day

Tahni returned quickly, her hands now smeared a deep crimson, with her hunting knife tucked into her belt and a decent-sized rabbit dangling by its ears in her grasp.

With skilled hands, she went about skinning the rabbit before she cooked it over the crackling fire.

Vita turned away from the sight, almost emptying the contents of her stomach.

Although she had been taught to kill and skin animals at the Seer’s Seminary, she still hated performing the tasks. She found it difficult even to swallow the meat once it had been cooked, knowing she’d seen the poor creature’s face. It was a necessary thing, though. Vita reminded herself of that as Tahni handed her a portion of the rabbit once she had finished preparing it.

They ate in silence before letting the fire burn out and laying down in their bedrolls.

Vita thought about Slay and his plans. Tahni thought about her family.

~

When they woke the next morning, they didn’t say much. Just gathered their things, mounted their horses, and kept moving.

Tahni wasn’t sure how long it would take for them to reach the nearest village. For now, they had enough supplies to last them a week, maybe more if they were lucky. After that, however, she knew they would struggle.

Throughout most of their travels, they were quiet. Neither had much to say, and the things they could talk about weren’t things they particularly wanted to talk about. So instead, they kept to themselves.

On the fifth evening they climbed down from their horses to rest for the night, though, Vita was determined to speak to Tahni about not only what they were going to do, but also about her father and brother.

She knew it was wrong and intrusive, but she’d taken advantage of her gift early that morning. She was concerned for Tahni, and she found that she had good reason for that.

When she’d probed for the nature of Tahni’s thoughts, she could feel that she was falling into a sort of depression.

It wasn’t hard to understand why.

Tahni had left her father and brother—the only family she still had—and was now on her way to attempt to defeat a very strong, very powerful man with hundreds, if not thousands, of men at his aid. Chances were, she would not come out of it alive. And if she somehow did, she’d never be the same as she once was.

When you’re forced into a situation like that, it would become difficult not to let it consume you.
Contemplating how she could broach the subject gently, Vita started a fire while Tahni caught their dinner for the night. Once it had sparked and she’d coaxed the small flickers into larger flames, she left their small camp and was now picking berries nearby as Tahni cooked the small animal.

Returning to the fire, Vita handed her half of the berries she’d gathered.

“Thank you,” Tahni murmured with a small smile.

Vita returned the smile and cleared her throat awkwardly.

“We should reach Linbridge in the next couple of days, I think,” she began.

“Good,” Tahni said. “I would kill for a bath and some clean clothes right now. I don’t think I’ve ever been so filthy in my life.”

Vita laughed knowingly at that. She’d spent almost two months on horseback and camping in the woods like this when she’d left the Seer’s Seminary to find Tahni.

Unsure of how to move the conversation in the direction she wanted it to go, though, she decided the best tactic was probably just to come straight out with it.

“How are you doing?” she asked carefully. “With leaving your home and your father and brother, I mean.”

***

“No!” Hank bellowed. “It’s only been five days, you can’t call off the search party already! She’s still out there somewhere and Heavens knows what’s happened to her! This is my daughter!”

He stood in the largest building in Greengrove: the Council Hall. Sitting in the centre of the village, twice as long as it was wide, it was where they held Council meetings and town events, gave speeches, and entertained any other goings-on.

Just like every other structure in the village, it was constructed of wood. Only this building, unlike the rest, was enormous. Thick, round logs stacked carefully atop one another and supported by more logs just the same—these ones standing vertically instead, to provide stability—were what held up the wooden tiled roof of the Hall.

If Hank had been any louder, the townspeople would have been able to hear him from the streets outside.

The Head of the Council and Greengrove’s town leader, a man named Edmund Osteller, waited patiently for him to fall silent before responding.

“I know this is difficult, Hank. Trust me when I say that I want to find Tahni just as badly as you d—“

“Don’t you dare tell me you want to find her as much as I do,” Hank growled. “You are not her father, Edmund. You haven’t lost your wife, and you are not facing the idea of losing your only daughter as well.”

Edmund let Hank speak his mind, waiting again for him to finish before opening his own mouth to reply.

Hank Adams was usually a very rational man, and Edmund knew that. It was why he had always been such a valued member of the village council. Edmund held a great deal of respect for him, and he also imagined that the stress of losing his youngest child would be driving the poor man close to insane. It was best to let Hank express himself without interruption and without rendering his feelings invalid simply for the fact that he was biased—as any parent would be—and clearly terrified for his daughter’s safety.

“We’ve searched every building in the village, every inch of the surrounding woods for two miles… We haven’t found her, Hank. I’m sorry. Wherever she is, she’s already too far away. I can ask a few men to venture further into the forests, but they have families too. I can’t force them to leave their own wives and children to search for yours. And regardless, there’s no way of knowing which direction Tahni went. Or, I hate to say it, if she’s even still alive. This is a blind chase,” Edmund explained as gently as possible, given how blunt he was being.

For a moment, Hank was quiet. Almost distant, it seemed. He ran his fingers slowly through his thick brown hair and sighed, squaring his shoulders and composing himself.

In a much calmer tone, he murmured, “I would like to resign my position on the village Council.”

“What?” Shock resonated in the Edmund’s voice.

“I would like to res—“

“Hank,” Edmund interrupted, having heard him the first time, “you can’t be serious. What in all Heavens are you doing?”

“I’m going to look for my daughter myself if you refuse to continue the town’s search for her,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Please, Hank, be rational about this. I know you’re worried, and I can’t even begin to imagine how hard this must be when you’ve already lost Claire, but you’re a highly valued member of the Council. I will continue to do everything I can to help you find Tahni, but you can’t give up your position. Think about what you’re doing.”

“I’m doing what’s best for my family,” Hank said. “You have no way of forcing me to remain a part of the Council, and you have no way of forcing me to stay here while my daughter is out there in the woods somewhere, alone.”

Without giving Edmund time to respond, Hank turned on his heel and left the Council Hall.

He arrived home soon after and found Kobi sitting at the table in the kitchen, with his head in his hands. He looked up when he heard his father enter the house.

“Well?” Kobi asked, his voice strained and his hazel eyes tired and darker than usual. Neither he nor Hank had been getting much sleep lately.

“They’re still calling off the search,” Hank told him.

With a pained moan, Kobi lowered his head back into his heads, tears stinging his eyes and threatening to overflow. This was all too much for him.

“What are we going to do, dad? Where is she?” His voice cracked as the first tear escaped his eye.

“We’re going to search for her ourselves.”

Kobi’s head snapped up to stare at his father. He wasn’t sure if he’d really heard that, or if his mind was playing tricks on him.

“Gather your things,” Hank continued. “We’ll leave tomorrow. She loved finding clearings in the woods so we can start looking there. Maybe we’ll see something that will tell us which direction she might have been headed in.”

Nodding, Kobi rose from his chair and wiped the wetness from his cheek. Hank rested a reassuring hand on his son’s shoulder and squeezed, then brushed past him to start preparing his own things for their hunt for Tahni.

Kobi did the same, and the next morning they were setting off in search of the many clearings Tahni had discovered during her hikes.

It seemed an almost impossible feat.

They began with the ones they knew of—those that were close to their home—but found nothing. Kobi, however, spotted a small break in the trees near the peak of a hill. A perfect vantage point to see the surrounding land.

Using that, they discovered three more clearings. One small one, barely noticeable, but to them, still worth a look. A second one in which an old tree had actually fallen, leaving a half-hollowed trunk laying across a portion of the field. And a third, with a small stream running through it, off to one side.

***

“Uh, I’m alright,” Tahni said quietly, dodging Vita’s stare. “It’s not easy, but… I’m holding it together.”

“Are you sure? You’ve been quiet since we left.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. I promise.” She offered a small smile, though it wasn’t convincing.

Vita sighed. It was clear that Tahni wasn’t going to tell her the truth of how she felt. She was not going to be able to ease into this.

“Tahni, I…” She pursed her lips, not sure how to say it. “Do you remember what I told you about my powers? How there are certain things I can sense about you? Like how near or far you are and the tone of your thoughts?”

Tahni nodded slowly.

“Well… I can sense you kind of falling into a depression. I don’t know how else to say it. It’s not difficult to figure out why. Any seventeen year old who’s been thrown into something like this so suddenly would feel the same, I would imagine. You’re putting your own life at risk, you’ve left your family, you have no idea what to do… It must be overwhelming,” Vita said. Though she was trying to be sympathetic, she suspected it wasn’t helping.

“You what? You told me you could only sense those things when you wanted to, Vita. Have you been spying on my thoughts?” Tahni asked in disbelief.

“No!” Vita assured her. “You’ve seemed a little off ever since we left, but I never even tried to access those powers until earlier today. It’s not hard to see that you’ve been tense, and it’s not hard to understand why, but I didn’t realise how much this was affecting you until now.”

Tahni was still looking at her with nothing more than incredulity. Nothing Vita was saying seemed to be making a difference to her. Vita didn’t blame her, really. But she wasn’t going to let that stop her from trying to make amends.

“I was just concerned for you, Tahni. You shouldn’t have to shoulder this on your own. I know I was the one who asked this of you, and I know how unfair it is, for you to just be flung into a world you didn’t even think existed before you met me. I’m honestly sorry for all of this. If I could change the prophecy, I would in a heartbeat. But I can’t, and that tears me apart sometimes.” As she spoke, Vita’s eyes welled up with tears. She meant every word she said, and it was all she could do to hope that Tahni knew that, deep down.

Wiping her eyes and taking a shaky breath, she continued. Before she could get very far, though, Tahni stopped her.

“Vita,” she said in a voice thick with tears of her own. “Stop. I’m sorry. I know this is hard for you as well. I know you don’t want this either. I shouldn’t have snapped at you the way I did. But you’re right, I’m stressed and I’m absolutely terrified, to be perfectly honest. And I miss my home… My family.”

Vita nodded in understanding. “I suppose after my mother took me to the Seer’s Seminary, I got used to being away from the people I loved. I forgot how hard it is, the first time you leave them. You’re not alone, though. I promise you that. I may not be much, but I’m here with you. You’re never going to be alone in this.” Vita vowed, laying a comforting hand to Tahni’s knee.

Tahni nodded, sniffling. She laced her fingers with Vita’s and squeezed gently. They shared a smile, and Vita scooted closer, wrapping an arm around Tahni’s shoulders as they kept talking.

A few minutes later, though, Vita hushed Tahni mid-sentence.

“Did you hear something just then?” she whispered.

Tahni glanced around the small camp they’d made. She saw nothing; heard nothing.

“Vita, what are you talking about? There’s nothing there.”

“Shhh,” Vita hissed again. Her eyes skittered across the trees, searching for any signs of movement.
Apart from owls and possums, all the animals, it seemed, were sleeping. And she couldn’t make out anything else hiding in the darkness.

Warily, she turned back to Tahni—

—just as a man lunged out of the shadows behind them, a dagger as long as his own forearm glinting as he drove it viciously towards the space between Tahni’s shoulder blades.