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Authors: Elaina J Davidson
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lives.
“You like the
girl,” his mother murmured, “for you see her as a friend. I
understand, but soon you will see how different you are. Her father
would hunt you, Kell, and she will follow his directives. It is the
way of humans, and Erin alone cannot change it, if she becomes of a
mind to do so.”
After
promising to stay away, he was sent to bed.
He broke his
promise the next day, creeping to the river and the willow that
grew on the edge and threw thick fronds into and over a shallow
sand bank, to watch the far edge. He watched Erin splash in the
shallows on her side, giggling to herself. He watched her chase
butterflies and wondered why he was different. He wanted to play
with her. He too wanted to chase butterflies in the sunshine. He
wanted a friend.
Instinct, and
probably the wiser words his mother spoke, forced him to remain
silent, to not approach.
All he could
do was watch.
As the years
passed, he understood.
She aged
faster.
When Erin
turned three, she had grown taller while he barely gathered an inch
in height. At four, she was as tall as he was. At seven, she would
have towered over him had he stood beside her, although he was
older.
He watched her
mature and understood something else, something different. He loved
her. He was fascinated by her beauty, but mostly he adored her
compassionate nature, smiling through tears when the creatures of
the area all came to greet her, a daily ritual. It happened for him
as well, the greetings, every morning when he left his home, and it
proved to him how beautiful her soul was also.
Now she was
eighty-two, bent and frail, and he remained young. In her terms, he
was no more than thirty years in appearance. He was now taller than
she was, of course, but she would die soon and he would live on for
centuries.
It was
unfair.
Chapter
3
Music
transcends all
W atching
Erin carefully fill her urn, wary of falling into the water and
therefore currents she had not the strength to fight, his thoughts
grew introspective.
After his
journey over the mountains to the east, at age ten, where he met
and saw trolls, goblins, fairies and faeries - the former tiny, the
latter man size- elves, dryads, gnomes, centaurs and many others,
even the ever wary sidhe, he understood the warnings from his
parents. He had grown in the years since Erin’s arrival, and heard
the elders more readily.
He listened to
the tales of war, of dying, of being pushed north and east into the
inhospitable regions where it was hoped the races would succumb,
flourishing instead. He heard of the raiding parties also and once
saw such a party in the distance. Humans came to pillage … and
murder.
He understood
their swift years were their greatest disadvantage.
During their
sojourn over the mountains, he was tested. At age ten all boys and
girls of the long-lived races were tested to discover their
inherent talent, the factor that would earn them their keep in the
march of years.
Until his
testing, he had not given it thought, but clearly his father had,
for he brought forth the musical instruments from home.
Ever when it
got dark or the days too cold for the outdoors, Kell would sit and
strum something quietly in a corner, softly singing. Already he
knew most of the old songs. He loved reading also, but when
searching for tranquillity, he found it in music.
The purity in
notes soothed his soul, especially when he could not see Erin for
many days, the snow outside piled too high for a walk.
Often, when
the weather was again good, he took an instrument with him, to
softly pick out notes upon the boulder under the willow.
After a week
of challenges in the stone enclave in the mountains, he played for
the Guild. They would decide if he possessed a true gift. While
other boys and girls proved themselves in the art of healing, in
cooking and baking, in fighting, in riding and chopping, and many
other fields, he tuned the big harp he had decided to play. Now
that it had come to
lives.
“You like the
girl,” his mother murmured, “for you see her as a friend. I
understand, but soon you will see how different you are. Her father
would hunt you, Kell, and she will follow his directives. It is the
way of humans, and Erin alone cannot change it, if she becomes of a
mind to do so.”
After
promising to stay away, he was sent to bed.
He broke his
promise the next day, creeping to the river and the willow that
grew on the edge and threw thick fronds into and over a shallow
sand bank, to watch the far edge. He watched Erin splash in the
shallows on her side, giggling to herself. He watched her chase
butterflies and wondered why he was different. He wanted to play
with her. He too wanted to chase butterflies in the sunshine. He
wanted a friend.
Instinct, and
probably the wiser words his mother spoke, forced him to remain
silent, to not approach.
All he could
do was watch.
As the years
passed, he understood.
She aged
faster.
When Erin
turned three, she had grown taller while he barely gathered an inch
in height. At four, she was as tall as he was. At seven, she would
have towered over him had he stood beside her, although he was
older.
He watched her
mature and understood something else, something different. He loved
her. He was fascinated by her beauty, but mostly he adored her
compassionate nature, smiling through tears when the creatures of
the area all came to greet her, a daily ritual. It happened for him
as well, the greetings, every morning when he left his home, and it
proved to him how beautiful her soul was also.
Now she was
eighty-two, bent and frail, and he remained young. In her terms, he
was no more than thirty years in appearance. He was now taller than
she was, of course, but she would die soon and he would live on for
centuries.
It was
unfair.
Chapter
3
Music
transcends all
W atching
Erin carefully fill her urn, wary of falling into the water and
therefore currents she had not the strength to fight, his thoughts
grew introspective.
After his
journey over the mountains to the east, at age ten, where he met
and saw trolls, goblins, fairies and faeries - the former tiny, the
latter man size- elves, dryads, gnomes, centaurs and many others,
even the ever wary sidhe, he understood the warnings from his
parents. He had grown in the years since Erin’s arrival, and heard
the elders more readily.
He listened to
the tales of war, of dying, of being pushed north and east into the
inhospitable regions where it was hoped the races would succumb,
flourishing instead. He heard of the raiding parties also and once
saw such a party in the distance. Humans came to pillage … and
murder.
He understood
their swift years were their greatest disadvantage.
During their
sojourn over the mountains, he was tested. At age ten all boys and
girls of the long-lived races were tested to discover their
inherent talent, the factor that would earn them their keep in the
march of years.
Until his
testing, he had not given it thought, but clearly his father had,
for he brought forth the musical instruments from home.
Ever when it
got dark or the days too cold for the outdoors, Kell would sit and
strum something quietly in a corner, softly singing. Already he
knew most of the old songs. He loved reading also, but when
searching for tranquillity, he found it in music.
The purity in
notes soothed his soul, especially when he could not see Erin for
many days, the snow outside piled too high for a walk.
Often, when
the weather was again good, he took an instrument with him, to
softly pick out notes upon the boulder under the willow.
After a week
of challenges in the stone enclave in the mountains, he played for
the Guild. They would decide if he possessed a true gift. While
other boys and girls proved themselves in the art of healing, in
cooking and baking, in fighting, in riding and chopping, and many
other fields, he tuned the big harp he had decided to play. Now
that it had come to
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