by Willow Sova
The girl laughed so heartily she worried over wetting her undergarments. “I’m guessing he never failed to include them in the Council after that,” she said, laying her hands on her sore belly. Never once did Sparrow remember laughing as she did then; she appreciated the humorous diversion from her sadness moments ago.
Thalion chuckled. “No, I believe his humiliation was incentive enough to avoid that mistake again.” Their laughter dwindled into silence. For a moment, their eyes riveted on each other. No words exchanged, only a look that spoke volumes. It spoke of sensual longing. Butterflies whirled in her tummy, floating south between her thighs, sending impulses to that sensitive fleshy pearl now blossoming within her sex. It ached with need and emitted shock waves throughout her body, wobbling her legs such that she thought she would collapse.
“Th-Thalion? Um… are we close to Saeldur’s cavern?” Sparrow feared if she explored these feelings much longer the elf would be carrying her to his home in lieu of her walking there herself.
“Yes, I’d say about fifty dragon leaps more to go,” he said, peering into the white pillars of birchwood, where myriads of faeries lit the weathered trail ahead.
As the two strolled along, they encountered a swarm of periwinkle mushrooms luminescing the wood sorrel. Their caps were almost flush with their shafts, making the girl snicker at the sight of them. Hmm, there’s a phallic fungus among us. If there were Elvish gods, they certainly had a perverted sense of humor. Her heart jounced and face suffused pink once she realized the elf was flashing a puckish grin in her direction.
“Oh, what’s that delectable scent?” she asked, her question peppered with giggles as she tried to banish the wayward thoughts tickling her psyche. Sparrow hoped he did not see her blush with embarrassment. Then clearing her throat, she added, “It smells like vanilla with a hint of… mmm… lavender. That’s it, lavender.”
“These mushrooms produce that delicious aroma. Their given name is Maiden’s Delight.” Thalion picked one from a patch of fungi and leaned the head of it toward her nose, grinning as he did. “Go ahead, breathe it in.”
The girl inched forward and whiffed the sweet vanilla fragrance layered with floral, minty undertones permeating from the glossy tip. “Mmm, how delightful. Is it edible?” Sparrow struggled to stifle her laughter, but their clever moniker conjured up some naughty images.
“Yes, it is.” The elf moved in closer and held the lustrous stalk between their lips. The lavender-blue glow of it reflected off their faces, and she noticed his pupils sucking into pinpoints with the flash of the mushroom’s luster, and the waves of lilac and blue ever so slowly swirling around them. They were beautifully spellbinding; she felt she would drown in them. “When you bite into it, the vanilla immediately tantalizes your tongue, lingering there awhile before the mushroom melts in your mouth, ending with an earthy note of lavender.” His voice was so velvety smooth.
Vanilla and lavender. “What an erotic dalliance of flavors. One earthy, the other sweet.” The temptation to taste it was irresistible. So she touched the meaty head of the fragrant mushroom, circling its cap with her fingertip, and gasped when it seeped a glistening liquid. When she brought it to her lips, she heard a soft moan. Was that Thalion, or some distant creature in the wood? Sparrow looked up at him, his eyes were feral, their irises storming more than before: violet with flecks of lilac and lazuli. They screamed an undeniable need. It must’ve been him!
“My lady!” The elf grasped her wrist, shaking her from the seeming trance into which she had fallen. “Though edible, I’d advise against partaking of it now.” He lowered her hand and took hold of the mushroom. “They’re most potent in their power to beguile. I assume you want your wits intact when I introduce you to Saeldur.”
“Oh… of course.” Her mind blanked for a second, puzzled by what had transpired. “If truth be told, I’m nervous about meeting the Elven Master of Beasts as it is. I don’t wish to ruin his first impression of me by being under the bewitchment of magical mushrooms,” she said with a coy smile.
Thalion chuckled and tossed the mushroom back to the fungal patch from where it came. “I’m sure it won’t be marred in any way, mushroom or not.”
They wandered farther along the path, the whirring of crickets accompanying their footsteps. Encroaching the trail as it narrowed and twisted up a hill, the pale birch trees coaxed them to veer to the right, then the left, over and again, their dark eyes still watching while the two trudged along. Given how their journey was unfolding, Sparrow doubted she could have taken it alone. Thalion and the continuous faerie lights helped stave off her fears. As they pressed on, the birchwood straitened the pathway until only one of them at a time could pass. The elf walked ahead of Sparrow, taking her hand, and led her through the shrinking passage. And just as she thought the tunneling birch might swallow them up, they stumbled upon a moonlit glade.
“Well, here we are,” he proclaimed, walking toward a monstrous wall of black limestone looming in the distance, spanning heights and widths more extraordinary than any castle she had ever seen in the human world. Over that swath of forest, the cliff towered like an ebon tidal wave frozen in motion, obscuring the stars and skies behind it. Reliefs of birds and beasts jutted out from the bluff throughout, the creatures staring out into the Nightforest as though keeping vigil over its nocturnal fauna and flora. They reminded her of the gargoyles bedecking the churches and castles back home. Sparrow wondered how anyone, even one so magically gifted, could reside inside the mountainous crag, as neither doors nor windows existed to reveal the stir of life within.
The girl gave him an inquisitive look. “But there’s no door or even a mouth like that of a cave.”
“None is needed.” Thalion smiled and laid his hand on the stone relief of an owl, and the surface beneath his palm emitted a yellow-green glow. The black wall shimmered silver until a doorway appeared before them. He then hooked his arm through hers and guided her through the entrance. And once they crossed the threshold, the opening disappeared.
They stood in a dark alcove adorned with four dragonhead sconces spitting blue flames and then traipsed into an enormous hall illuminated with aerial spheres of amber. Shelves overflowing with books surrounded the grand chamber, and in the center of it was a circular fire pit of stone hugged by two large settees dressed in plush blue velvet. Yet instead of dancing flames therein were rocks radiating hues of violet, blue, and amber.
“Thalion!” a voice shouted from the shadowed wall. “I see you are not alone!” A tall elf wearing a long emerald robe stepped out of the shadows and sauntered toward them. A silver diadem filigreed with various creatures from land and sky and sea crowned his head of raven hair that flowed past his shoulders.
“No, I had the good fortune of meeting this charming young lady during my journey here. Saeldur, meet Lady Sparrow.”
“Fortunate indeed,” he replied, looking her over. The blues of his eyes blazed against his pale skin like fallen sapphires on virgin snow.
“Good evening, my lord.” Her search for words seemed futile. She was uncertain of how to address the Elven Master of Beasts and worried over offending him if she said anything more.
“Please, we can forgo all formality here. Call me Saeldur.” He invited them to sit with a wave of his hand and took his place on the settee across from them.
“Very well, my… that is… Saeldur.” From the fine feathery lines about his eyes, she gathered he was further in years than Thalion. By how much, she was unable to guess. “And you may do the same, as I asked of Thalion. Please, call me Sparrow.”
“Well, I know we have matters to discuss, but I’ll first allow Sparrow to ask something of you that weighs on her mind.”
“And that is?”
“Sir, I… uh… um… I’ve traveled from the human world with the hope of learning from a great master such as yourself.” Her nerves overwhelmed her fingers, so she sought the familiar comfort of her moonstone to steady them. “My… my mother nurtured my magica
l gift with animals since I was a child. She always spoke so highly of you, Saeldur, and how I should… um… well… come to Aeweniel to study magic under your guidance.”
“And who is your mother, my dear?”
“Lily Entwistle. Though her maiden name was Chatwyn.” The chance he might deny knowing her worried the girl.
“Yes, I remember Lily.” The Elven Master glimpsed the Isilmë pendant before meeting her eyes again. “It has been many years since I last saw her. How fares your mother?”
“Well… um… sir…” Her voice trailed off, and she gazed into the glimmering amber of the mineral pit. Strangled by the words, Sparrow could not speak them. The tragedy was too recent and unexpected, the pain unbearable. She espied the elves exchanging questioning glances and was relieved when Saeldur broke her silence.
“Why as to an apprenticeship, I could entertain the possibility of such an arrangement. But let us talk on the matter later.” He rose from the blue settee. “Having traveled through the Mists of Emlineth, I gather you are well-rested. But you must be hungry. Are you not?”
No doubt Saeldur sensed her discomfort at his inquiry about her mother. But despite sleeping during most of her journey to Aeweniel, fatigue had not escaped her, something she attributed to the distress she had suffered weeks before her departure. “Yes, but I don’t want to impose.”
“Nonsense. Make yourself comfortable and enjoy the warmth of the mineral pit.” The Elven Master gave a brisk clap of his hands. In a blink, a silver tray overflowing with various delicacies appeared, floating above the arm of the settee.
“Why, thank you, Saeldur. Your kindness is most appreciated.”
Saying nothing, he inclined his head and walked away, motioning Thalion to follow him toward an empty wall flanked by bookcases. With a wave of his hand, a doorway materialized before them. Once they crossed the threshold, the entrance vanished along with the two elves.
Sparrow curled up on the sofa and eyed the sustenance Saeldur had offered. From a variety of juicy berries, one by one, she popped them into her mouth, each little fruit quenching her thirst with its sweet succulence. Soon after, she was delighting her tongue with buttery wedges of cheese, petite frosted cakes, sugar cookies, and washing them down with warm cinnamon milk.
Hunger in her belly sated, she snuggled up on the sofa. The cushions swaddled her as she warmed herself by the mineral pit and watched the rocks flux between lights of amber, purple, and blue; she found them mesmerizing to view. And just when she thought the heat would intensify to uncomfortable levels, the cool glow of violets and blues would temper it as they diffused into the calescent amber shades. Nearing sleep, Sparrow dwelled on those cooler hues, how they reminded her of Thalion’s beautiful eyes. They, too, were mesmerizing and warm.
And though I can’t explain it, I feel safe with him. Safer than I’ve ever been.
CHAPTER 3
TAME YOUR BEAST
The chamber walls were of carnelian stone and cratered throughout with niches of various sizes. Inhabited with the necessities of any practitioner of magic, some overflowed with books of Elvish lore and magical spells, their weathered spines of many colors telling their age; while others housed vials of herbs, dried flowers, thorns, and roots of drab hues that shied in the company of living blooms and foliage. Scents of lavender, mint, anise, and earth infused the air while a canopy of warm blue starlights floated above, revealing the dripping stones of stalactites and an elaborate window with a view to the heavens begot by enchantment.
Thalion stood admiring a niche filled with minerals and potions before seating himself at the table. It was the centerpiece of Saeldur’s study, a solid structure hewn from a fallen ancient redwood, the sheen of it now hidden by piles of tomes, flickering candles, and a silver tiered tray laden with the tasty edibles like those Sparrow was enjoying in the great hall.
Ah, sugar cookies, my favorite. “You know her mother?” Scattered before him were jumbles of volumes on The Acquisition of Human Languages and Elvish History. Thalion remembered studying them when he was an elfling.
“Yes, I once knew her very well,” Saeldur replied as he poured elderberry wine into a goblet. “Lily was Erynion’s lover from the human world. Many only knew her by her adopted Elvish name, Indilwen.” He handed Thalion the glass, then poured one for himself.
“Oh yes. I remember her. That explains Sparrow’s possession of the Elvish blue moonstone,” he said, noticing an open book of spells. Beside it was a candle close to guttering out, and he wondered on the length in hours his friend spent scouring through his books. “I thought it unusual, a human wearing a pendant of Isilmë Stone.”
“Yes. Erynion had crafted the charm himself.” Saeldur sat at the table and sipped his wine. “He bequeathed it to Indilwen as a token of his love, knowing the stone’s power would also help her travel to and fro between our worlds.”
“Weren’t they to be married once she arrived from her homeland?”
“That they were,” the Elven Master replied, swirling the wine in his goblet before taking another swig. “She had only journeyed back to settle the last of her affairs there. But she never returned to Aeweniel. So Erynion traveled to her world in search of her, unfortunately, to his demise.” He looked forlornly at the dying candle, blew it out, and replaced it with one newly lit.
“I remember Father speaking of his murder once news of it reached the realm, how the humans burned him alive, claiming he was a witch.” Erynion had been a dear friend to Saeldur, and it was through him that he mastered the art of Elvish healing. Both friend and teacher he lost that day. “Humans claim magic is evil, conjured up by devilry, even blaming it for the disease that plagues their lands.”
“Ignorance is what plagues the human realm.” Saeldur rose to his feet, his face hardened. “Before his departure, I warned Erynion of humans and their superstitious zeal in dealing with practitioners of healing and magic. Many healers were burned for their craft, accused of kinship with wicked spirits.” Before taking his seat again, he refilled his empty glass with more of the sweet wine. “His death has haunted me… and the realm, for many years. It still does.”
Tragically, elven immortality had its limits. Death by fire was one demise an elf could suffer. There were others.
Thalion espied his friend’s eyes, a more ephemeral blue of late, shifting to somber shades of grey. Loss upon loss is slowly vanquishing the life within him. He knew of no words to quiet Saeldur’s sorrow, even after all these years. And this actuality saddened him.
“Do you think Sparrow escaped her world to avoid persecution? After all, she claims to possess magical powers, leastwise with beasts.”
“Possibly.” The Elven Master squirmed in his chair, scanning the walls of books before fastening his gaze on Thalion again in a disapproving but fatherly way. “Were I you, I would keep my emotional distance from the girl. It would grieve me if you shared Erynion’s fate.”
“I’ve only just met the sweet maiden, yet you’d soon have me courting her?” He slurped the last of his wine, set the goblet down, and swiped a sugar cookie from the silver tiered tray.
“I can tell you are already smitten with her,” Saeldur replied, frowning at Thalion when he propped his feet up on the table and grinned.
“What do you mean?” Although he did not admit it aloud, he sensed something familiar about Sparrow, as though they had crossed paths before.
“We have been friends for many years, Thalion. You know my keen sense of these things. I can see it in your eyes, how they are shifting colors, reflecting the arousal of your primal urges.”
“Perchance they speak of my euphoric mood,” he quipped, lips curling with mischief as he bit into the cookie.
Saeldur cleared his throat and cocked his black brows at him. “Euphoria aside, they are not the only telling things.”
“Pray tell, what telling things?”
“How can I put these words graciously?” The Elven Master closed the tome before him, his eyes roaming abou
t the room while he thought. “Ah! There is no way,” he said, shaking his head.
“To say what?”
“Tame your beast, my friend! And I speak of the one in your trousers!” Saeldur stood up and waved the book at the bulge in Thalion’s breeches.
The young elf laughed. “I have mastery over my beast, never you mind it,” he boasted, patting his velvet-clad cock with pride. He chomped into the buttery cookie while he pondered the image of Sparrow smelling the mushroom, its periwinkle cap so near to her mouth. Oh, how I wish I allowed her to taste it. Envisioning her voluptuous lips pursed over its glossy head sends my cock twitching with glee. If only I could’ve lived vicariously through that mushroom for a few heavenly seconds—
“Thalion!”
He spewed cookie crumbs when startled from his reverie. “Wh–what?”
“And you are in control of your beast? Indeed! I just asked you a question and called your name three times! Ye gods!”
“I’m sorry. What was the question?”
The Elven Master huffed, pausing awhile to glare at him. “And what of Medlinya? Do you have mastery over her?”
“The Princess and I are finished, you know that,” he replied, brushing cookie bits off his pewter tunic.
“Yes, I know. Yet to her, you are her daily obsession heralding the break of day.” Saeldur sauntered toward him and perched himself on the redwood, his tone more sinister. “Medlinya helped murder Evelyn to avenge her sister and spite both you and Aranhil. What better way for her to exact revenge than to kill your brother’s lover? She keeps you alive for her pleasure and hurts those you love for the same.”
“The tragedy that befell Evelyn will haunt me the rest of my days.” Thalion could not help but feel a twinge of resentment at his words. It had been several months since his brother, Aranhil, brought Evelyn to Aeweniel from the human world. Though both brothers had broken ties with the royal twins many moons before, much like Medlinya with himself, Helegil had refused to let Aranhil go. And when she saw him with his newfound love, she had become enraged and soon thereafter killed poor Evelyn.