Elven Moon (From the Order of The Golden Feather) by Marion Jones

Author:Marion Jones [Jones, Marion]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-03-13T05:00:00+00:00

A week later I found myself practicing with my archery. I didn’t need to, but my enemies practice day and night I assume. I fired three arrows. one landed on an acorn and the second arrow split the first arrow. The third arrow splits the second arrow. My heart jumped in excitement. My nose twitched. A familiar smell.

A voice said, “Well done. Very impressive if I do say so myself. I can’t even shoot like that.”

I looked down in frustration and the sky grew darker. The sounds of nature grew quieter. My squirrel friend glided from a tree onto my shoulder. I turned around and asked, “Why are you here again Angel?”

She looked away, not to have eye contact, “I’m just here to help and give you a little bit of training. I’m not here to offend you in anyway. I actually have something for you.”

I wanted to be angry, but my curiosity got the best of me. Maybe it was seeing a familiar face or conversating with someone who knew more about me. I sat on a boulder and rested my bow. Dasia handed me some sort of biscuit.

“It’s manna,” she said as her hazel eyes gleamed. It was like green, brown and gold colored fought for supremacy. She expanded her wings and stretched. I knew she wanted to form a relationship and hesitantly accepted her gift and asked, “Nana?”

“Manna.”

“I haven’t had any in a while. Thank you. Now you may leave because I will have my elven mint tea.

Dasia smiled, “I’ve never tasted Elven mint tea like yours. May I have some more?”

She didn’t understand that her hope to be friends was foolish and created undeniable tension. A mild wind breezed through the branches.

I gave in and said, “Fine. You may have some tea and then you will leave my forest.”

We walked over to a small fire where my teapot waited. The pot was metal, but it had designs carved into it. I got bored one day. She seemed to notice the artwork but didn’t say anything. Her wings vanished as she sat on a rock. I waited for the dust from her drafty wings to settle, then poured two cups and handed one to Dasia, admiring her poofy puffs of black and brown hair on either side of her head.

She bowed her chin slightly and briefly closed her eyes, “Thank you Eza.”

I sat down on a log and pulled out my carving knife. Hmm. Only a trusting person would close their eyes in front of another.

Dasia asked as she opened her eyelids, “Are you going to throw that carving knife at me?”

I smiled and coyly said, “No, because you will just block it or heal. What would be the purpose?”

I picked up a piece of wood that was slightly curved and scraped into it with my knife, in between sips of tea. I didn’t say anything because I tried to determine which of my questions were more important.

Dasia broke the silence between us, “What are you working on, Eza Greanleaf?” I stubbornly replied, “Thank you for the Manna.

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