Journey To Destiny Unknown An Elvish Tale

Part 3 Preparing For The Journey

Chapter 3

Her eyelids flutter open, her hand instinctively moving to her head that feels as if her temples had been struck repeatedly. Her eyes search her surroundings to find that she is resting on a tree limb a good distance from the earth below. Her eyebrows narrow in confusion, not knowing when or how she got into this tree.

A rustling of leaves not far away becomes her new focus, especially considering the air is still at the moment. The noise spreads from one tree to the next becoming louder as if closing in on her. A black figure comes into view and leaps into the air, aiming directly for her. She darts out of the way, her hand misses the bough and she plummets to the earth. Acting quickly she concentrates on the ground, a small bush blooms directly underneath her softening the blow.

The dark figure drops to the ground beside her as she pulls the leaves and numerous twigs from her person. "I'm back." Trayven steps into the moonlight revealing himself, lance in hand. She glares at him, aggravation consuming her face. He winces at her stare as if she physically hurt him. "Sorry." Trayven rubs the back of his neck realizing he was the cause of her fall. Unsure of how to reconcile the situation eyes move to the lance in his hand. "Here! Right where you said it was." He holds the weapon before her, glistening in the moonlight.

She grips the smooth shaft, memories of training with her mother flood her mind. Sylvonna notices the same green glow that had consumed her earlier was emitting from the weapon that was in her tight grasp. As the light fades, the weapon appears to be transformed. Its once smooth shaft is now enveloped in small metal vines and leaves, leaving numerous ridges for an easier grip.

Sylvonna smiles in disbelief, the intricacies of the changed metal marveling her. She looks up to find Trayven heavily on guard, his eyes moving constantly. "What is it?" She questions, confused by his lack of emotion at what just happened.

"That bright light just made us a beacon for every guard within a ten mile radius. We have to get away from here." He warns, quickly taking her hand and dashing towards Soclair's cottage. She follows in haste, her feet tripping her up every so often, as she feels fatigue slowing her down slightly. The fluttering sensation overcomes her stomach again at his touch. She is too tired to suppress the emotions inside. Sylvonna lets them fog her mind and cause her cheeks to blush, hoping Trayven is too focused on the road ahead to look back.

In the base of a small willow, a dimly lit cottage stands in their wake. The half human stops abruptly taking in the serene setting while Sylvonna catches her breath, grateful to not have to run anymore, and that the feeling in her stomach has subsided, for now.

The willows' boughs sweep low to the earth concealing the fact there is a dwelling there at all except for the intermittent rays of light that pokes through the branches. He spreads the curtain of leaves to reveal the entrance, noticing numerous gaps between the frame and the door, light escaping through each one. Trayven taps the door softly with his knuckles so as to not draw any more attention to himself and his elven companion.

The door opens the tiniest bit, an eye peering at the two of them from the crack. It an instant it opens just enough to pull the two of them into the dwelling. They stumble inside, almost falling on top of one another. As they steady themselves their eyes instantly travel around the small cottage, taking in all of the wonders of Soclair's home.

The only furniture is a wooden rocker made out of a dark chestnut colored wood, a small simple framed bed in one corner, and a square table with two chairs that sit on opposite ends in another. Small glass jars and vials containing various potions and ingredients line small shelves in what appears to be her cooking area.

Many herbs hang to dry on the far wall by the fireplace, a small fire already lit heating a small black cauldron emitting the fragrance of fresh stew. It floats through the warm air drawing both of the weary travelers closer to it, their mouths salivating at the delicious aroma.