In Other Lands

by Sarah Rees Brennan

Serene looked upon him with worry and, Elliot thought and hoped he was not imagining it, fondness. She was the only person in either world who ever looked at him like that. “You have a valiant spirit. I will respect your wishes, but you cannot ask me not to worry.” Luke looked tired: he addressed his words exclusively to Myra. “Can we take you to a place of safety, at least?” “No,” Myra said slowly. “I’ll stay here with Elliot.” Maybe Myra could be his favorite of Myra and Peter forever.

Elliot thought it was meant to be a quick coup, and perhaps it would have been. Except Colonel Whiteleaf’s Border guard had not expected the cadets to fight back: not so fiercely, not for a woman. They had not expected the commander to fight back so fiercely herself. Commander Woodsinger was not surrendering.

“I come on a mission of peace,” said Elliot, and got backhanded with a chainmail fist. Elliot tasted blood and saw stars in a gray daytime sky. “Did I stutter?” Elliot asked, feeling his mouth fill with blood. “I said I come on a mission of peace, moron.”

“Oh my God,” said Luke, and sat down heavily on the stone steps, in the dark, his head in his hands. “He could have killed you. I could have killed you!” “No, no, I had every faith in you,” said Elliot. “I did think he might kill me, but there was a life to be saved in the balance, so you see it was worth it.” Elliot also found war very traumatizing, but he’d thought that Luke would be more used to it by now. He reached out in the dark, found Luke’s shoulder, and patted it. “I know, violence is terrible,” he said. “I’ll be more supportive later. I have to go see Colonel Whiteleaf now. Don’t let anyone come up these stairs.”

When he left the room, he found Luke still waiting on the steps, his head still in his hands. Luke leaped to his feet when he saw Elliot. “Now explain to me what you were doing,” he snarled. “Oh . . .,” said Elliot. “Nothing, really. I had an idea, but it didn’t pan out.” “Nothing?” Luke repeated. “You risked your life for nothing? Do you realize how short-sighted and selfish and irresponsible you were being? Do you think this is a game?” “Yes, yes,” said Elliot. “My behavior was very wrong. I see that now. But I do have good news.”

“We don’t have to gossip,” Elliot informed Luke. “Let’s be strong and silent. In a manly way. That would be awesome, right?” “So you were . . . serious about . . . all that?” asked Luke Sunborn, secret gossip fiend.

Elliot was disappointed, and then he actually listened to what Luke was saying and took a sharp left turn into being offended. “Why wouldn’t I be?” Luke fiddled with his pudding rather than looking up. “You were always so . . . exorbeetent . . . about it.” “Ex or bee tent? . . . Oh. You mean ‘exorbitant,’ loser. And as opposed to all the other reasonable well-balanced sides to my personality, you mean?” Elliot scoffed at the very idea that he might not have been serious. “Like you’d know anything about how I feel.” “Fine,” said Luke. “I hope you’ll both be very happy.” “Thank you,” said Elliot graciously. “You know, for about the one minute that it lasts,” Luke added, with a smug twist to his lips.

He had been bold when he knew, secretly, that there was no chance at all. Now he had a little hope, hanging in a fragile balance, and he was terrified that being overconfident would upset the balance and he would lose everything. It was terrifying to have something: he wondered if other people lived their whole lives in this strange state between exultation and absolute dread. He’d never had anything to lose before.

“That’s great, everybody already thinks we can’t obey regulations because of him,” Luke said. “Well, I’m going to practice archery some more. Someone ought to.” He got up, pushing his tray aside. They stared at him in dismay. “Luke, you have hardly eaten anything!” said Serene. “I’m not hungry,” said Luke. “Luke, please don’t develop an eating disorder,” Elliot begged. “We do not have any therapists in this world!” “What’s a therapist? I said I’m not hungry!” said Luke. Elliot paused. “Don’t eat any therapists. That’s not what they’re for.” “Then I don’t know why you brought them up, other than the fact you always want to be talking about something stupid.” Luke fixed Elliot with a look of definite dislike. Elliot reached for Serene’s hand, for comfort, but she was looking at Luke, who was now making his way out of the room.

Richard lifted his hand. Elliot didn’t want to let go of Delia, so he couldn’t shield himself. Elliot braced himself to be hit. “Hey,” said Luke, swooping down on them. Elliot didn’t even know where he’d come from, he’d moved that fast.

Elliot shrugged. “I guess she’s bad-tempered.” “Oh,” said Luke, with a small grin, always pleased when Elliot agreed with him. “So you were standing up for her because you two have a lot in common.” “That’s it,” said Elliot, and grinned back at him.

People did not have to learn how to live with each other again, after trust was broken between them. Elliot stood staring down the dark paths to the many cabins where the cadets slept. Every year, he thought, things got more complicated, and there were so many ways to lose.

Serene and Luke cast vaguely concerned glances in Elliot’s direction, but Elliot had already figured out that there were not going to be medals, and in fact that he was going to be told off for some cruel and unjust reason. It was also possible that they were not concerned for him, but concerned about what he might say to Commander Woodsinger once left alone with her. They were right to be concerned, but there was nothing they could do about it. Elliot smiled at them sweetly as they went out. They both looked deeply apprehensive.

“What do you love, Cadet Schafer?” “Serene,” Elliot replied promptly. Commander Woodsinger closed her eyes and visibly prayed for patience. She did not reach for any weapons when she opened her eyes, so Elliot figured her prayer was granted. “What else?” Elliot sunk down low in the chair, hands linked over his chest, and kicked the desk. To punish the desk even more, he eyed it darkly. “So long as this goes no further,” he muttered. “Luke, I suppose.”

“Do you love your country?” “What, England?” asked Elliot. “Wow. Am I a poet in 1914?” “What,” said Commander Woodsinger. “What,” said Elliot. “The Borderlands,” the commander clarified. “I think I’m probably still British on my passport,” said Elliot.

Elliot tilted his head. “Clever.” “I wish you were more clever,” said Commander Woodsinger. “I’d like it if you were even half as clever as you think you are.” Elliot stared with his mouth open. He was ready to be disciplined, but he had not expected to be insulted.

“Are you aware that because of your reckless behavior Luke Sunborn left his squad—the squad that he was leading—in order to protect you, as an unarmed civilian?” “Well, it’s not my fault Luke left his squad,” said Elliot. “I didn’t ask him to. That was his irresponsible decision, and you should tell him off for it.” “I have already disciplined Cadet Sunborn,” said Commander Woodsinger. “How could you?” Elliot asked. “He saved my life!”

I would like to complain about Luke, as it is my hobby, but I don’t want anyone to be punished.

“I want you to tutor some of the first-year cadets in history and mapmaking.” “Well, that’s just ridiculous,” Elliot said. “We’re punishing children now? What have they done?”

“These are the Borderlands,” said the commander. “This is a land of magic and mystery: this is our charge and our sworn duty to protect. This is a land to be loved and served, because nobody can understand it.” “Well. Nobody has understood it yet,” said Elliot.

Once he was finished with Commander Woodsinger, Elliot did not climb down the stairs. He climbed up, to the top of the brief tower, and he gazed down at the vast tapestry of the Borderlands. Like green silk spread as far as the eye could see, the grey satin of mist and sea at the edges, embroidered with the delicate blue of rivers. Nobody can understand it, the commander had said, and the challenge echoed in Elliot’s bones, as perhaps the commander had wanted it to. A challenge was more familiar to him than love, and felt close to the same thing, as though one led to the other. He felt his heart beat to the double time of two words. Not yet.

Most men long for children, due to their selfless and nurturing natures.” “I don’t have one of those,” said Elliot. “What about Smooth Jazz?” asked Luke meanly.

“I obviously can’t,” Luke snapped. “Uh, you obviously can, loser,” said Elliot. “We live in a military society frequently torn by conflicts and all. You’re telling me that somebody wouldn’t hand over a war orphan to a Sunborn and their life partner whose name might rhyme with Sail Cravefacer?” Luke had looked thoughtful when Elliot started speaking, but by the time Elliot was done he looked only flushed and embarrassed. “Shut up!” he said. “What if he heard you!” He got up and stormed away to whatever physical activity he’d decided he simply had to practice at lunchtime that day. He might be on to the javelin by now. Elliot suspected the system was alphabetical.

For the times when Elliot was not teaching, there was the library and, surprisingly enough, Myra. The first time he went there outside his usual study hours and found her there, he thought it was a happy coincidence. The third time, he was fairly sure there was something going on. “Never a bad time to get ahead on your studies,” she said when he asked, shrugging it off. Elliot raised his eyebrows. “And yet.” “Oh, fine,” said Myra. “If you must know—” “I must!” said Elliot. “Because I’m nosy and have no consideration for the feelings of others.”

“So, you’re really serious about Serene?” “Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Elliot’s tone was more snappish than he’d intended, but Myra didn’t seem to take offence. “You know, you’re kind of a dramatic person, Elliot,” she said mildly. “I am not. How dare you!” “It’s not a bad thing,” Myra said. “But when a guy calls a girl the nightlight of his soul, other people might be forgiven for thinking he’s being intentionally over the top.” “I wasn’t being over the top,” Elliot argued. “I was way under the top.”

And it wasn’t her fault if Elliot had expressed his feelings wrong. He always did that, as if life were a dance where everybody else knew the moves but Elliot was constantly and fatally out of step.

He realized exactly what he had said, earlier, even if she did not: that Luke was not Elliot’s friend. And in a way, since Serene was now his girlfriend, she was not actually his friend anymore either. If—something were to happen, if he made too many mistakes and they broke up, Elliot would have nobody. He had not thought about how dangerous it would be, to have all his dreams come true.

“Come with me,” said Luke abruptly one day, turning up at the library and grabbing Elliot’s wrist and hauling him out of the room. Nobody protested this outrage but Elliot himself. Myra said, “Hi, Luke! Bye, Luke!” and waved Elliot good-bye with her little finger, not even putting down her book as her friend was carried off. It was scandalous and heartless.

“I don’t want to go with you,” Elliot declared. “You seem like a bad man.” Luke glanced at him over his shoulder, and grinned. “That’s a shame. I was thinking—” “I hope not unsupervised,” Elliot remarked. Luke rolled his eyes.

“You’re hilarious. Please keep joking until the bandits kill us all. If you insist on getting into trouble, you could at least make yourself less trouble than you currently are, is my point. So your girlfriend and I don’t have to keep getting disciplined for pulling your insubordinate ass out of the fire.” “I won’t learn how to fight!” Elliot said, pulling out of Luke’s grasp with abrupt anger. “It’s not that hard,” Luke said patiently. “That’s not the point! You don’t understand anything.” “As you constantly remind me. Apparently I should understand someone endlessly putting themselves in danger but refusing to learn even the basics of self-defence—” “Yes!” “Sorry,” said Luke, grabbing him again and recommencing dragging. “I don’t understand things that are stupid.

“I have always thought of myself as a brilliant mind to be safeguarded by the physical efforts of others.” “You should’ve thought of that before you left the library.”

He supposed that it did not matter if he’d been dumb or brave. He could have been stabbed either way, and he didn’t want to be. It was nice that other people didn’t want him to be either. “We’re going to start by running laps,” said Luke.

“Perhaps next year we could incorporate some of the elvish winter festival into this time.” “I would love to do that,” said Elliot. “Yeah, okay,” said Luke, unwrapping a crossbow. The table in front of him was crowded with weapons, but this one was from Louise and she had her current kill count engraved on it, with an encouraging message that said KEEP UP, LITTLE BROTHER! Louise was a terrifying person, and it made them all smile. “We can do the thing with the funny lamp too,” Luke continued. “Menorah,” Elliot corrected. “We don’t have to.”

It was just something that Elliot had understood his mother would have wanted him to know about. He had learned all he could, hoping to please her, in the days when he still believed she would come back. But she had never come, and he had never done any of the things he’d read about. He had never believed in much, once he stopped believing in her.

“Oooh, is the elf giving her girlfriend jewelry,” mocked Natalie Lowlands, Adara Cornripe’s best friend, as Elliot slid into the seat next to her. Elliot gave her a big beaming smile and pushed his sleeve down a little to better display the bracelet. “Sorry you’re lonely!”

In his imagination, being with Serene had been perfect. It wasn’t: people were constantly passing comments, insulting either to him or to Serene—and he preferred the ones insulting to him—even the teachers sometimes made comments, he hardly saw Luke, and he had to weigh every interaction between himself and Serene carefully, trying to get each one right.

The first time Elliot managed to run a four-minute mile he promptly toppled over onto his back in the scanty springtime grass. Serene and Luke were waiting for him at the finish line, and Serene applauded. “Thank you for your support, sunflower of my soul,” said Elliot, once he could breathe again. “As for you, I can’t believe you’re making me do this. I hate you, and I hate your face. I actually think I might be allergic to it. Or maybe that’s the lack of oxygen and hay fever talking, I don’t know.”

It was pathetic, that he would actually participate in boring terrible physical activity in order to spend some time with Luke.

“But claiming that a boy is—that a boy could be—your swordsister? That is obscene. That is spitting on the traditions of our house and our people. I wish to hear no more of that nonsense.” Serene put a protective, possessive hand on Luke’s arm. “It’s not nonsense. And the traditions of my people are wrong. He is my swordsister. As soon as we saw each other, we both knew it.” Sure made a noise that in a less poised and commanding person might have been called a snort. “What does a human know? Look at his pretty dimwitted face. He does not even know what we are saying.” Everyone looked at Luke, who tilted his golden head and looked down at Sure for a moment with his arms folded. In faltering, rough elvish, Luke said: “I got it, actually.”

“I was saddened to hear Serene had launched a successful attack on the citadel of your virtue,” Swift said. She sounded genuinely grieved. Elliot was grieved to be having this discussion. “The citadel was totally into surrendering. Also I personally would not have referred to it as a citadel,” Elliot observed. “Like, ever.” “No doubt you tempted her. Ah, a man’s morals are frail as they are, sweet silly creatures,” Swift said. “I do think it was up to Serene to control herself, though. She must have known I was considering you as a bride. Your humanity would not have mattered so very much, up in the wild north where I am stationed, but now you have been sullied, of course it is out of the question.” Elliot gave a shriek that wavered between hysterical alarm and hysterical laughter, and tried to turn it into a coy giggle with very limited success. “I’m very flattered!” he said. “And taken all unawares by this token of your esteem! But I think you might be a little old for me! No offence meant.” Swift did not look offended, but she did look rather puzzled. “The woman should really have an advantage when it comes to age in marriage,” said Swift. “So that she may guide and educate her blushing bride in the ways of the world. Besides which, men are at their most attractive in the first blush of youth, whereas women only grow more distinguished as the years pass.” “Ha,” said Elliot, not terribly amused. “That’s so funny, because humans think the exact opposite thing.”