Passion (Book 1 of "The Fantasy of Life" Series)

Prelude

Ashanaya

I smile as the arrow I let fly impales my target, and protrudes nicely from the centre. I look over to Valen, my best friend of about 10 years, him smiling, but not at the shot I just made. He seemed lost in his thoughts.

I watched (not creepily) as he gazed into the ever-rolling forest, his short, dark blonde hair blowing softly in the cool breeze. He was tall, around 6'3, though somehow I'd never noticed just how tall he'd gotten. He was pale, slender but strong, and his long sharp ears matched the rest of his features. He finally looked over me, his grey eyes showing me he was still lost somewhere deep in his mind, but he smiled, at me this time.

"It's an okay shot. I could do better." He crossed his arms, and his smile grew into a cocky grin.

"You could do better than a perfect shot?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Of course. That arrow is barely in the target, I could make the arrow stick out the other side." He said the last part with a little bit of a mocking tone, he walked toward me in a cocky manner.

"Careful, you don't want the Shaman to beat you with his staff for lying again." I shoved the bow to his chest.

"He only beats me when I lie to him; you're not shaman are you?"

"You know girls can't be shaman. Although you should watch your tone, my mother is the matriarch, which means I'm next in line, I'll have you neutered." Saying I had an evil grin would be an understatement.

His eyes grew wide. "You can't do that! That'd be such a waste, imagine how sad you'd be!"

I rolled my eyes. "You really need to lose the delusion that I like you already. I don't." Sure hope I'm a good liar.

"Sure, Naya. Sure."

I shoved him to the side playfully. "Would you just shoot the bow already."

He held his hand out. "If you give me an arrow, then maybe I will."

"Oh." I pulled an arrow out of the quiver on my back and handed it to him.

The wind began to blow again, and my dark brown hair flowed forward gracefully, I tucked most of it behind my ear. I heard that humans didn't do that as much because their short ears didn't hold their hair back as easy, but their hair is thinner, they should try it.

Random thoughts. Mother said I should stop having those. They aren't practical and they are a hindrance to my future. She also said I should stop thinking about humans. They are lesser in her eyes, I think working with the humans would be beneficial, but she's always written off my suggestions as the ramblings of a child.

"Hey, Valen? Have you ever known for this part of the woods to be so windy?" I hold my arm against me trying to make myself warm.

Valen let the arrow fly and it pierced the centre of the target making a very loud thump. "No, why? Are you cold?"

"A little." I said, I could hear my voice shaking. I noticed I was shivering.

He looked over at me and frowned, I suppose he noticed as well. "Alright, let's head back to camp."

I nod, and he walks up to me and wraps his arm around my shoulders, trying to keep me warm.

"Do you think your mother will let me stay in your tent again?" He asked.

"She'd let you live with us if you asked, Valen. She loves you." I looked up at him and he seemed lost in thought again.

"I'm not sure. I don't want to be a burden." He doesn't look back at me.

"You're not being a burden, she understands what you've been through, and you haven't finished your training, you can't live on your own." I'm really noticing how tall he is. I'm a little less than a foot shorter than him. I suppose it is normal, elven women have a very petite and small frame. I just assumed I'd be taller than I am. I'm... bigger, than the other girls, mother says it's because father's mother was human and that's where it comes from. Although she always seems like she's hiding something. It'd be nice to ask father but, father was killed along with both of Valen's parents and two others, years ago. That was actually how we met. On top of the mountain during the ritual of the dead, where we release all of their belongings into the pyre.

Valen had caught me sneaking something away from the pyre, my father's bow. I was afraid he'd tell, until he showed me his mother's quiver. Years later he gave me that quiver as a gift, I haven't let it out of my sight since.

I reached my hand over my shoulder and under Valen's arm, I touched the rough leather of the quiver, and the puffy lamb's wool embroidering the edges. I look at my father's bow in Valen's hand; it was made of rough oak wood, it was sharp on either side of it to make it into a weapon if anything got too close. It came from a fallen branch off the oldest tree in the camp. Father used to tell me that we used to worship that tree, and that some of the elder's still do. He told me it was the reason the leaves were always, strange, always a bright purple colour, never green. During winter, and autumn it'd change, ever so slightly, but only to a lighter, pinker shade.

The string on the bow was supposedly woven from simple grain, though father would've never said that. He'd say it was woven from the hair of a goddess. He said that was why it shot so well.

My thoughts were interrupted by a very loud groaning.

"I think Marhara's wife is finally having her baby." Valen said, looking toward a very brightly lit tent. It was one of the smaller tents, belonging to a newer member of the clan. Marhara, rumours spread around that he was half human, though he always denied it. He was larger than your average elven man. He was roughly 6'5 and bulky. He had dark red hair and green eyes, pale skin. The only things that really made him elven were his ears and hair.

"Should we inform the sha-" I saw the shaman running toward the tent. Staff and book of runes in hand. "Never mind."

Valen smiled. "Perhaps we should leave them alone. We can see the child in the morning."

I nodded. "I think mother is making something involving ram tonight."

"How specific." He rolled his eyes. "I guess we'll see in a minute won't we?"

We approached my tent, it was grey, made of various animal hides, and it have thin red lines along the sides, and very large. Mother stuck her head out the small opening in the front. Her dark brown hair fell down around her shoulders. Her light blue eyes gleamed, and her rounded features were accented as she saw us approach, and smiled.

"Oh good, you're home. Dinner's almost ready." Her warm, high voice was welcoming after the loud groaning. She stuck her head back inside.

"Home?" Valen asked.

"Maybe she wants you to stay." I said as I slipped inside. Valen waited a second, then smiled and followed shortly behind.