Ruth’s life changed from that night.

  As the years went by, the Godshards started looking to Ruth for guidance. She found herself helping Mikel with spellcraft and assisting Megan as she taught the children. Mother and Aunt Kathy departed the island when Ruth came of age. A new state of affairs developed ever since. Ruth would spend months on end in the Realm of the Golden Wood, and months on end in the Cradlelands.

  Sometimes she was studying, wandering, learning. Other times she simply wanted to spend some time with her family and her friends. Sheba insisted she’d come along with her, and Ruth obliged. It felt nice to have someone at her side, and Sheba was growing, too. She had a charisma that drew people to her, Benelim and human alike. The world felt happier wherever they went as a result.

  When Ruth turned twenty, however, her myriad of obligations started to put a strain on her.

  The gargantuan trees that made up the city of Amnisos always felt so welcoming to Ruth. It felt serene, nearly heavenly to be there. Like comforting sentinels of ancient bark, they seemed, and their golden pine needles shone in the autumn sun.

  The best part was Sheba decided to come along.

  Ruth couldn’t stop grinning from seeing her friend so stuck in awe. She was so happy Sheba was so receptive to her other world. They had to walk terribly slow as Sheba couldn’t keep her head from looking up. Her eyes followed the arboreal pathways from outcropping to outcropping, the structures that ran like rivers through bark and branch alike.

  Dim candle light danced with the golden pines, and distant glowing gazes followed them, groups of Benelim children dangling off the branches, giggling and laughing as they did so. Ruth shook her head as Sheba stopped completely. Ruth didn’t even notice at first, only realizing when she was about to turn the bend.

  Ruth cursed her deafness then. She wouldn’t have gotten so far away if she could hear. Yet when she saw Sheba’s smile, she couldn’t be mad. She really was stunning. Mother opted to make Sheba a dress similar to hers. It was colored silver, which brought out her dark skin. She was also given a matching antler shaped headdress painted black with speckles of white and grey, almost like distant starlight. Mother reasoned that Ruth was a beautiful day and Sheba was a beautiful night.

  Sheba turned to see Ruth waiting for her, and she signed her apologies.

  The two of them resumed their journey until they reached a golden wooded tree much wider than most of the others. A sign read “Biblios”. Ruth explained that they had an appointment with a couple historians. She wanted the Benelim’s side of the story that led to the division between her two worlds. The historians were gracious enough to oblige.

  Sheba nodded and the two walked up the immense ladder to the level they needed to. The doors were heavy like mahogany and the true size of the library revealed itself. It was like a world with a world! Within its rustic framing were unending rows of bookshelves, as far as the eye could see. Dim emerald and golden candle light made a dazzling display of light as they entered.

  Sheba turned to Ruth. “This is beautiful!” she signed, her gestures quite sloppy. “Have you been here before?”

  Ruth mirrored her excitement as she signed back, “Nope. This is a first for me, too.”

  A pair of Benelim appeared from the endless array of books. They wore long dresses, and they both had spectacles covering their dimly glowing eyes. One had a deep umber complexion, and she had a welcoming grin on her face. The other had a painting in her hand, and she looked supremely bored and aloof. Her skin was significantly paler than any Benelim Ruth had ever seen before.

  The friendly librarian gave a polite bow. “Greetings,” she signed. Good, she remembered that she was deaf. Ruth mentioned it in the letter but it wouldn’t be the first time she had to tell people anyways. “My name is Anindo.” She gestured to her friend. “This is Armanda.”

  Armanda rolled her eyes before bowing in turn. “Hello,” she signed. Ruth frowned, that was one of the sloppiest signs she’d ever read.

  “Apologies for my friend,” Anindo signed, her smile faltering. “She has issues with humans.”

  Ruth’s first impulse was to be offended, and indeed Sheba looked indignant. Yet Ruth saw an opportunity here. Who better to ask why relations between the two peoples were sour than someone who carries resentment? Ruth just had to be patient. She became stoic, hiding her irritation like a cloak, “That’s fine,” she signed. “Is there someplace more private where we can read and talk?”

  Anindo nodded and she gestured to them to follow.

  They entered a smaller study, reclusive and embracing. A big brown desk stood in the room, carved out of the bark of the tree, like an altar or a wooden anvil. Framing the back wall was yet another bookshelf, full to the brim with ancient tomes.

  Anindo gestured to two chairs for Ruth and Sheba to sit. Armada took a seat at the desk, trying to get absorbed into whatever it was she was painting. Clearly Ruth had to stick with Anindo. It was a shame, she actually wanted to talk to both of them. But first things first.

  “What do you wish to know?” signed Anindo as she took a seat at the desk.

  Ruth rubbed her hands together, before signing. “The Second Novalim War. I would like a more thorough account of what happened. What led up to it?”

  “And how did it sever relations with the humans?” Anindo finished.

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  Ruth nodded. “Yes. The last time I read an account was when I was seven, and human records are fragmentary.”

  Armanda rolled her eyes. “Of course they would be.”

  Ignoring the barb, Anindo turned to the bookshelf behind her, and after a moment, pulled out a book and handed it over. “There’s a private area in the mezzanine, if you like.”

  …………………

  Ruth was soon absorbed into the story.

  The Benelim had been in their golden age. The Unending Summer, they called it. The Goddess Terra and her allies walked freely among the realms. The Maelim had been decimated, the more nefarious of the Gods had gone into hiding and their influence was restrained. Only the Goddess of Chaos Tempestia was active, but her harpy minions were nothing against the Benelim armies.

  But all was not well. The Benelim had gotten arrogant, as did Terra. The book tried to downplay it but they ignored the collapse of a immense northern kingdom of men called the Realm of the Northern Spire, reduced to nothing within a century. Ruth read between the lines. They had gotten so prideful, they looked down upon humanity and didn’t think much of their wellbeing. How troubling.

  So at 650 AGF, a tide of monsters came upon the Realm of the White Birches, the northernmost Benelim kingdom. The creatures were led by the Twisted Gods, deities who were drawn to the mortal realm from Godfall. They decimated the Benelim armies and burned their cities, warping and mutating the very trees and hills to the stuff of nightmares.

  Desperate, they called to Terra Herself for aid. On the snowy plain outside the capital, a parlay was held between the Earth Goddess and the Twisted Gods. Terra, in Her arrogance, underestimated their power and was gravely wounded after a battle broke out between Gods.

  Ruth was losing her patience, the war was as deadly as she thought. But all she read was the battles between Benelim and Horrorlim. The Realm of the Golden Wood was ravaged by the assault but High King Ioannis rallied Benelim from all the other realms. At last, humans were mentioned!

  The grand alliance included human forces, remnants from the old northern spire realm and Murex. Maelim and harpies also joined this army. Indeed, the account said all of the firstborn Novalim, Benelim, Maelim alike participated in the final climactic battle. Most of them were slain by the Twisted Gods. Only by the timely arrival of a freshly healed Terra and her considerable forces did the grand alliance win the day.

  Ruth grumbled as she again struggled to find anything relevant to her research. Well, it was useful to gleam the dreadful state of the Benelim realms after. The Realm of the White Birches never recovered. King Aloysius maintained running battles with lingering Horrorlim and other mutated fauna. The northernmost regions of the Golden Wood remain under heavy guard.

  The world saw that Terra was not invincible and Her other enemies were emboldened. Maelim incursions increased, led by the few remaining firstborn. Tempestia caused a gargantuan volcano, Mt. Ignis, to explode, cooling the world and turning the northeastern part of the world into a desolate wasteland.

  Worst by far was the sheer scale of death. It was estimated that over half of all Novalim died during that terrible war. Many structures were abandoned, including the Ioannian Bridge. Trade and contact with humanity had been reduced to nothing. Something was lost after the war. The Unending Summer became a Bitter Winter, and it was this bitterness that consumed many of the survivors.

  So it was when the first envoys were sent decades later, and they saw the human city states tearing down forests to rebuild their cities. The humans were uncaring of the decrees of Terra and showed the Benelim utter disrespect. The humans were belligerent and refused to cease their destruction of the woods.

  Ruth frowned as the record moved onto other events in history. Was that it? Contact ceased that quickly? That hardly seemed fair. Obviously all parties were traumatized. They were all just trying to survive at that point.

  Ruth looked up to see Armanda glowering at her. What an expression of bitterness she saw, it reminded Ruth terribly of her class all those years ago. “What’s your problem?” signed Ruth.

  Armanda’s eyes narrowed and she signed something back. Ruth grumbled at how sloppy the gestures were.

  “Can you sign clearer?” signed Ruth. “I’m having a hard time understanding you.”

  Armanda rolled her eyes before signing slower, “Sorry. It’s just uncanny to see a human use our sign language. Did you find what you were seeking?” Ruth was almost impressed with how she emphasized her hatred of humans when she signed the word.

  “Why do you hate humans so much?”

  “You just read why. They’re disrespectful, foolish and sacrilegious. They do not venerate the Gods and treat nature like it’s their plaything. After everything the Benelim have done for them? For centuries we nurtured them, guided them to the light of civilization from the echoes of daemonic slavery. Protected their primitive kingdoms from Maelim and other monsters, shedding blood for them! Yet this is how they repay us?”

  Ruth frowned. “You forgot the part where you ignored the danger in the Northern Spire realm. Where you abandoned many other human realms to the Horrorlim. The humans who were involved in the war are barely credited at all.”

  Armanda closed the distance. Yet underneath her furrowed brow and angry glowing eyes, the microexpressions showed Ruth something else. Sadness and grief. How interesting. Ruth wished she noticed it sooner.

  Armanda left just enough room to sign, “Don’t talk to me about the north. You know nothing, human. My home was destroyed. I was there when the Horrorlim mutated the trees and the creatures. When the dust settled and we tried to go home, you know who stopped us?” Ruth shook her head. “Humans. Survivors who wanted to take what was ours. To start a new life in our lands! They used force, and my family was decimated! I was the only survivor. I moved south, moved here, far away from humans. Many others of the White Birches did.”

  Ruth’s face softened. That explains why she looked so much paler. “I’m sorry that happened to you, but that was centuries ago. We shouldn’t let the past cloud our judgment.”

  Like a wall Ruth could see hatred enter Armanda’s body, a steadfast denial of pity or remorse. Like she was too afraid to consider the action,“I refuse to empathize with such ignorant barbarians. They’re intolerant fools, afraid and hateful of things they don’t understand.”

  Ruth stood up, her glowing eyes brightened. “I’ve had enough of your bitterness,” she signed, her gestures were sharp and firm. “I’ve been to human realms, and while there are plenty who are ignorant and hateful,” Ruth looked Armanda up and down and she shook her head, “That’s clearly not a human attribute. Benelim can be no different. When I was little, every morning Benelim would jeer and insult me as I went to school. Adults harassing a child! The children in my class made fun of me, too! All I wanted was to be their friend, and they judged me for being human. And for what, something that happened centuries ago?”

  Armanda was taken aback by the rant. Ruth often forgot how tall she was and Armanda backed away frightened. Like a veil had been removed from her eyes. The fear on her face snapped Ruth out of her anger. She wanted to work with these people, not scare them into submission.

  Ruth sighed and her glowing eyes faded. She shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she signed. “I don’t mean to invalidate what you went through, it's just,” Ruth paused, struggling to find the right signs. “I’ve been to both worlds, and I’ve seen so much goodness everywhere I go. Our races used to work together once. Like siblings! How I wish to bring my peoples together once more.”

  Armanda shrugged. “I suggest you keep it realistic. Sometimes wounds cannot be healed”