my awareness. Opening my eyes, I look over at the patch of wildflowers and plants where I pushed my senses into the ground. Amazement courses through me that I was able to create something so beautiful, so alive. The queen made flowers grow, only for them to die minutes later, am I really any different? Doubt courses through me as I remember the queen’s show of power back in Galandell when she was trying to scare me—she succeeded.
Except yours is thanks to your wood elf heritage, not death magic, I remind myself, but that doesn’t stop me from glancing over at the flowers to check if they’re still alive.
Thinking over everything Eldrin told me about the elves’ magic, I frown as I remember seeing Vaeril’s glowing hands on several occasions, and more than just when he was imbedding it into his weapons. “I’ve seen Vaeril use magic before, his hands were glowing…” Horror struck, I spin around to look at Eldrin, who put his dagger away. He’s standing a couple of paces from me with a look of bored amusement on his face. “Wait… Is Vaeril related to—”
“No,” he scoffs, and I sigh with relief. I’m not sure I could cope if they were related. “There’s some distant royalty in his ancestry, it must have passed down to him,” he reasons.
There’s a pause as I nod, and we look at each other, his gaze intense, the silence stretching. “How did you know?” I finally inquire, breaking the tension building between us. Eldrin raises a single eyebrow, the corner of his lips twitching up, and I realise I’ve asked half a question. “That being surrounded by the forest would help release my fae abilities?” I rush to finish, flushing as he starts strolling towards me, that determined look on his face again.
“I guessed,” is all he replies, still moving towards me. Frowning, I take a step back as he gets closer, not sure what he’s about to do. “Now, protect yourself,” he barks, suddenly launching himself at me, his dagger flashing in his hand seemingly from nowhere.
Instinctively, I drop to the ground and roll to the side, springing up into a defensive position and spinning to face him, snarling as I reach for my staff. Except when I rolled to avoid his attack, I lost it. Scanning the ground, I see it among the bracken. Eldrin is standing between me and my weapon, and from the smug look on his face, he knows it. Patting the hilt at my waist, I find the dagger still hanging there, but I don’t pull it out, not yet. I’m not very good with a blade, and unless I’m up close, it’s useless. Besides, if I’m that close to Eldrin, I’ve lost. I’ve never once won against him when I’m that close. I need to keep him at arm’s length.
Eldrin takes a step towards me, and I take a step back, mirroring the movement. He moves, I move. “What are you going to do now?” he goads, knowing that without my staff, I have little fighting skill. The staff has been my strongest weapon so far, and I know if I can get it back, I have a chance. “Use every advantage you have. Focus on your speed, your strength, they are your weapons just as much as that staff.”
He separated me from the staff on purpose, I realise. He’s forcing me out of my comfort zone to embrace this other side of myself, and here, in the forest, I’m not being watched by anyone else. There are no expectations from anybody, it’s just the two of us.
“Stop overthinking,” he snaps, sheathing his dagger and charging me. I don’t have time to think as he moves in a blur, almost too fast for me to see. Jumping to the side, I narrowly avoid his grasping hands before dropping into a crouch and kicking my leg out to instinctively try and trip him. A part of my brain recognises that I’m moving far too fast, but I’m fully focused on the large elf who is bearing down on me. He avoids my leg, but it throws off his momentum. Swinging the dagger towards me again, I leap back and look at my staff. I’m a little closer, thanks to his attack, but not close enough. I may be fast, but looking away costs me precious seconds in which he closes the gap between us, grabbing me and twisting me so my back is against his chest