Chapter Fourteen
It's the last day of the 13th, and final month of the year, Nyctara. I groan, unable to master the last wind spell for my mid year exams. I have to create a small whirlwind, and despite many failed attempts, I can’t figure it out. The diagrams from my book have been copied into my journal, and littered in notes, but despite my best efforts to find help with my spellwork, I’m still unable to cast it. I’ve decided it must be due to some misinterpretation of the instructions. It must be something so small that it’s difficult to see immediately. At least, that’s the excuse I’m using to comfort myself for being a failure.
The words on the page before me are beginning to meld together, and form giant unreadable clusters of words, and it may be time to go downstairs to the dining hall, and have dinner.
I look out the window, and wonder if Lucien is still at the potions shop. With my spell book and journal in tow, I decide to pay the shop a visit in order to lift my mood.
While on my way there, I pick up some dinner for myself from the dining hall, and hope Lucien and Madam Treeleaf have not eaten yet. The very thought of seeing Lucien makes me feel lighter, and my feet move quicker, as if I’m floating.
“I’ve brought dinner,” I say, cheerfully when I step into the shop, placing a basket on the front counter.
“Luna?” Calls Lucien from the back room.
I peek around the doorway, and spot Lucien crushing something with the mortar and pestle while other things bubble and hiss around him. His cheeks are stained green, and he’s got sweat on his brow. The sight of it is amusing, and I force my smile away just before approaching him.
“Yes, it’s me. Is Madam Treeleaf here?”
“She’ll be back soon,” he says, setting aside his work, and dusting his hands off on his apron leaving behind dark blue stains. “Did you bring anything for me?”
I nod and smile. “Of course.”
“Thank you. I missed lunch. I was struggling with a spell, and there’s only one dark magic instructor available during lunch… I watched him eat, and my stomach just kept growling as I struggled to focus on the words he was saying, instead of the apple in his hand. I missed about half the things he said, unfortunately.”
“And then you showed up here without eating? Why?”
“I had no time. I knew you were going to be busy today, and I didn’t want to leave Madam Treeleaf alone in the shop. She said it was going to be very busy.”
“Didn’t Arthur promise he would show?”
“Ugh, he told me he was courting some woman tonight, and then took off with one of those stupid imitation love potions we’ve been experimenting with. I almost didn’t let him walk out with it, but Madam Treeleaf assured me it was alright, it wouldn’t work anyway. I suppose she thinks he’s harmless. Even she’s aware he’s not much of a charmer when he’s trying to make a first impression.”
“Or a second, tenth, or hundredth.”
“Luna,” he smiles. “I thought the two of you were becoming friends.”
“Friends… Acquaintances. Who knows? Come eat.”
“One moment, I need to remove a few enchantments from the cauldrons.”
“Which ones? I’ll do it for you. Go eat.”
“Uh, let’s see… Clairvoyance,” he points. “Tranquility, serenity, and enhanced strength. The magic rejuvenation needs a bit more time.”
“You’re… brewing for an army?”
“It’s an important week. Everyone is stressed, and nervous. I made you something, it’s at the front of the shop.”
“For me? You shouldn’t have,” I jest.
I remove the enchantments from a few cauldrons, and they immediately stop bubbling.
“I’m glad you came, I wasn’t going to have time to eat. I still have to bottle and label everything. That takes a long time.”
He goes to the front of the shop, and pushes aside the bottles stored below the counter.
“I had to hide it. I didn’t want Madam Treeleaf to see it,” he says, when I give him a puzzled look.
“Uh… that’s not comforting.”
“It’s fine. It’s just made with some expensive ingredients I had foraged myself, and I didn’t want her to see it, or she would have asked me to find more.”
“Well, this is all too much suspense for me. Tell me what it does, already, before I burst from excitement.”
“Well,” he laughs. “I combined the effects of several potions. It will help you with nerves…”
“I’ve got those.”
“Distractions.”
“I might have some of those,” I glance up at him quickly, then back to the bottle.
“Lack of sleep…” he smiles.
“Definitely.”
“Other small things, like an upset stomach, mental fatigue, and everything else you need to help you pass, such as minor focus and a steady hand. It was a recipe Master Eaimer sent me. He thought it would help me, but I think you could use it.”
“Oh, you’re not taking one for yourself?”
“I’ve finished my examinations already. Here. Just take a drop of it every day. It should be enough to last you the week and then some.”
“Thank you, Lucien. You’re a sweetheart.”
“Thank Master Eaimer, he came up with the recipe.”
“Thank him for me, then.”
“I will. Let’s eat, I’m starving,” he says, pushing aside the cloth on the basket, and immediately taking a large bite out of a meat pastry. “Gods, nothing has ever tasted this good! I was so hungry.”
I search the basket for a hard boiled egg, and begin peeling the shell off, and stacking the pieces of it into a pile on the counter.
“I’m having trouble with a spell. I was hoping to find someone who could help me, and so far, three people are too busy, one professor said I should figure it out myself, and one of the more senior students I know told me that it’s a simple spell that I’m overthinking, but their fingers hurt too much from practicing their own spells. One was going to show me, but… his hands were too swollen from a failed potion brew.”
“Would you like me to help you?” He asks, after swallowing another bite of his pastry.
“If you wouldn’t mind it.”
The bell rings, and Lucien quickly takes the basket off the counter, and places it out of sight.
“Good evening. What potion can I get for you?”
“Oh, hey, Lucien.”
“Oh! John? You… what happened to you?”
“Long story short, my girlfriend is a terrible Fire-Wielder, but she’s getting much better at it with my help. I need a healing potion, though. And maybe something for my nerves? And my singed eyebrow?”
“I’ve got it,” I inform Lucien. “Give him the three bottle discount. Throw in a small vial of healing draught for him. The strongest one we’ve got.”
“That’ll come out to five-”
“Lucien…” I scold.
“Sorry, three silver.”
“Thank you. Both of you. Let me treat you to a drink sometime once I’m free.”
“I’ll let you know when I’m also free of this suffering,” I murmur, scanning the shelves, and picking the potions out.
“What about you, Lucien?”
“I… probably can’t go. Things have been getting more… uncomfortable around the city. We’ll have to stay by the Academy if you want me there.”
“That’s not a problem. We can stay close.”
I place the potion bottles in his hands along with a small vial.
“Take them like any other potion, but be careful with the healing one in the vial. You don’t want it to go to waste by taking too much of it. Five drops maximum. I don’t think we have anything for your eyebrow, as the hair growing tonics are too powerful, but the healing potion will help your hair grow back eventually.”
“Thank you.”
When he leaves the shop, Lucien takes up the basket, and carries it to the back.
“We shouldn’t eat at the front. Madam Treeleaf will get upset if I’m not professional.”
“I see. She’s gotten more strict the longer you work here. Is it because your potions are always so amazing?”
“You’re also responsible. Always so polite and such with all of our rude guests. You have a reputation now. Your preparations are excellent. You do an impeccable job stocking the shelves. If only your brewing wasn’t so terrible.”
“Do I really have a reputation?”
“Oh, yes, some very handsome men came in looking for you today. I told them you’re taken.”
“Thank you, but I am available.”
“You’re most welcome, but are you really?”
“You’re lying, aren’t you?”
“I am. Most of them come looking to yell at you for not putting up with their nonsense. Are you really available?”
“I see. I might be,” I wink.
“Madam Treeleaf likes it. You help her find the bad ones, and I help by keeping them away. I guess if people are afraid of dark elves, I might as well look a bit more scary. Are you returning home before Selara?”
“I don’t think so. I would barely have enough time before the break ends. Marcellus has been so upset about it.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
“The whole academy will probably be empty, and sad, won’t it?”
“It won’t be sad, but you’ll definitely notice the lack of warm bodies.”
“I won’t get to celebrate the Festival of Twilight Shadows with my family. It was my turn to get a new dress. I saw a beautiful moon necklace in a shop the other day. I wanted it so badly, but the shop owner said they were recently robbed, and that was one of the pieces taken.”
“Which shop?”
“Um… it’s the one with that large yellow and red necklace on the sign between the blacksmith and the uh…”
“The armory?”
“Yes, that one.”
“That one does have some very beautifully delicate pieces, considered very pricey. I’ve a theory there’s a dark elf working there. I might purchase a piece for my grandmother if I ever plan a visit to see her. I might even get some jewels for Master Eaimer. His collection of jewels is so dull. I don’t think he’s changed his look in decades.”
“Well, how often does one change their look? You’ve looked the same since the day I met you.”
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“Well, these have all been gifts. Some have been passed down for many generations. We don’t get ourselves jewels, I’m afraid. So if you want to see anything change, I’ll have to find someone to get them for me.”
“You don’t get your own? Is it frowned upon?”
“Well, yes and no. Things can be bought for special occasions, but that’s the only time.”
“How would you even know?”
“You wouldn’t,” he titters. “But we pride ourselves in having more friends than jewels.”
“If you have many friends, you’ll have many jewels.”
“And then we gossip about those who cannot fool us. We don’t give them freely, either.”
“Oh, gossip. I love it. So who bought all of these for you?”
“My family, and friends… and…”
“Your fiancée, Lumaria?”
“She’s not my fiancée,” he says, tapping the tip of my nose with a finger, and an amused smile on his face.
“So…” I smile, touching the silver jewel on his horn. “Who got you this?”
Lucien leans into my touch.
“Um…” he blushes. “My grandmother gave this to me. She thought it would make me look more… regal. It used to belong to her. It has other pieces, but they get tangled up all the time, it’s annoying.”
“Oooh, and this one?” I ask, touching the jewel that hangs from a short braid by his ear.
“Lumaria, the one you keep calling my fiancée.”
“Oh, my, it does look very expensive,” I jest, twisting the jewel in my fingers.
“She… comes from money. This would be considered a cheap gift for her to get me, though it has special meaning to me.”
“Special?”
“A-Ah, well… she’s a very good friend of mine.”
“And what about,” I trail my fingers along the edge of his ear, lost in the details of his face. “…These?”
He cups my hands, and gives me a look. I don’t know what it is, but I want him to keep looking at me that way.
“Luna,” he whispers, feigning shock. “What are you doing touching my ears like that?”
“Sorry,” I move away from him, when my face flushes. “Was that rude?”
“Well, it’s alright, it’s just very intimate.”
He takes my hand delicately, then immediately drops it when the shop door rings.
“Lucien!” Someone calls.
I get to my feet, and rush to the front of the shop.
“Seraphina, hello again,” I greets.
”Luna, is Lucien here?”
”Yes,” he grumbles, stepping up next to me. “Can I help you with something? Arthur sends his greetings, by the way.”
“How long did it take him to remember me?” She pouts.
Many expressions flash across Lucien’s face in the span of a few short seconds; Disappointment, pity, disappointment again, pain, anger, embarrassment. He settles on exhaustion.
“Well, he uh…”
“Say no more,” she snickers. “It’s fine. I expected it. What finally triggered his memory?”
“I reminded him that you were a better student than he was, and reached level five two years ago despite the fact that you’re my age.”
“Thank you,” she sings. “So, what now?”
“I’m not sure. I guess it depends on you.”
“I’ll see you around,” she smiles, heading out the door. “This is the start of a beautiful relationship. Tell Arthur to come see me!”
“I have! Several times!”
“Tell him several more times!” She calls, just before the door shuts.
“I will, I promise.”
“We’re going to be trapped here all night,” I groan. “We’re going to miss the festival. I would have gotten my dress for nothing. I don’t even get to celebrate passing all of my mid-level exams.”
“Oh, it’s alright,” grumbles Lucien, wringing his braid out, splashing water on the ground.
We planned to pick herbs for Madam Treeleaf, but a storm has successfully thwarted our plans. We’re now hiding away in a cave that sits behind a waterfall. The same waterfall that kept us from following the lanterns months earlier.
The thunder and lightning outside the cave crash and resound off the walls around us, and I press my hands over my ears to drown out the sound. I look over at Lucien, who is grimacing, as he stuffs pieces of fabric into his ears. I crawl to his side, and hug his arm, shivering and soaked.
“Do you have a spell for drying clothes?” I ask through chattering teeth.
“You’re a Wind-Caller,” he smiles at me, and winces when the cave shakes from another thunderclap.
“Oh, Lucien, I’m so sorry,” I cry out, placing my hands over his ears.
He leans his head against my chest, and curls up against me, gripping the front of my tunic tightly.
“I’m guessing there aren’t many thunder storms in Dark Grove?” I ask, in an attempt to distract him.
He shakes his head. I begin casting a spell for a warm summer breeze, tweaking the hand motions a bit to optimize its ability to dry our clothes. Lucien grabs my hand before I can finish it.
“You’re going to freeze to death if you do it that way. It’ll take forever,” he says.
“I’m going to freeze to death either way at this rate.”
He glances around the cave, and points towards a tunnel.
“If we get away from the falls, we’ll stop getting soaked. It’ll also be a bit warmer, and a drying spell will be more effective. Go.”
He pulls me to my feet, and drags me farther from the entrance of the cave where the falls cascade. He seems relieved when the sound of the storm is only slightly dampened.
“Take off your cloak, your shoes, whatever you’re comfortable removing.”
I do as he tells me, keep my cloak on, and strip down to my undergarments beneath it. He takes my clothes, and begins casting spell after spell on them until they are fully dried.
“Remove the rest.”
“It’s fine, I’ll be warm enough.”
“I won’t look, I swear.”
I strip beneath my cloak, and sit on the ground, keeping my body covered, and hugging myself to keep warm.
“You can help me, then. I taught you a few wind spells, didn’t I?” He mumbles.
“Right,” I cast an advanced wind spell that heats the air around me, which dries my skin and cloak.
“Here,” he says, tossing my clothes at my head. “Don’t look. I’m undressing.”
“You know,” I mutter, as I redress myself. “You wouldn’t believe it, but I just… realized I can see in the dark.”
“Can you, now?” He laughs. “It didn’t occur to you each time you went out foraging for the past five months that you never once had to taste that bitter herb? I think even Arthur almost noticed, and I had to convince him he just didn’t see you take them.”
“How embarrassing that even he noticed before me,” I sigh. “I wonder if it was the petal.”
“I wonder what other abilities it’s given you. You’re always day-dreaming when we go out there. It’s no wonder you haven’t noticed.”
“I’m not day-dreaming.”
“So you see the daily lives of the gods?”
“I do.”
“And you’re not day-dreaming?”
“No.”
“And you think that’s normal?”
“Definitely not.”
“You know how I first noticed you had night-vision?”
“How?”
“It’s the way you look at me. Normally, during the day you’re trying to hide your face when you’re embarrassed, but… ”
“Oh,” I blush. “I’m just so used to the shadows of the night keeping my face shielded from… expressing my annoyance. Even Arthur can’t read my face.”
“Arthur couldn’t read your anger if you were screaming at him, with a red face, and had a neck vein that was about to burst,” he chuckles.
“He’s so stubborn.”
“But that’s not the look I’m referring to,” he says, quietly.
“Oh? Then what look are you referring to?” I ask nervously. “If I looked annoyed, it likely wasn’t your fault.”
“I’m not referring to that look either.”
I glance up at the stalactite of the caves, trying to figure out if I’ve ever looked at Lucien in a certain way that would render an unpleasant reaction. I hope he hurries up and gets dressed so I can see if he looks upset with me.
“I give up,” I sigh. “What look did I give you?”
“This one,” he says, suddenly appearing in front of me.
I stumble backwards, tripping over the hem of my cloak. Lucien catches me, and helps me get back to my feet. I readjust my cloak, and frown at him.
“This look,” I say, pointing at my face, with a scowl. “You deserve it.”
“Sorry,” he laughs. “I didn’t think you’d get so surprised. I do that to you all the time.”
“Not while I’m thinking about other things.”
“You really should be more aware of your surroundings. One day you’re going to wander off, and never find your way back.”
“My mother was always telling me I’d one day find myself deep in a river, and wouldn’t even notice until it carried me off. I’d probably be dreaming I was flying with a gaggle of geese.”
Lucien spreads his cloak on the ground, takes a seat on it, and pats the spot next to him. I take a seat, and pull my knees close to my chest.
“Your mother is correct.”
“I can’t possibly be that bad.”
“What do the gods do while they’re busy creating the world?”
“Oh… um… lately, Gaia has been very excited about what the humans created, and Selene and Sol always look… terrified.”
“There’s a whole story? Maybe you need some special potion. I wonder if Master Eaimer has something for delusions.”
“I… record it in my bo-”
An extremely loud clap of thunder sounds through the cave. Lucien covers his ears, and groans in pain.
“Oh, no!” I panic, rushing towards him, and protectively covering his ears. “I’m so sorry, Lucien.”
He gives me a weak smile. “It’s fine. I should get used to it.”
I begin waving my fingers in a motion to create a tight sound-proof barrier around us. He laughs when the spell doesn’t work.
“You do it, then, since you’re such an expert.”
He shakes his head, keeping his ears covered.
I begin again, and he taps me, correcting my hand motions, before covering his ears again when the thunder claps once more.
“Oh, got it,” I say, restarting the spell a final time.
The sounds around us fade, as if the storm is miles away. Lucien uncovers his ears and sighs with relief.
“Thank you.”
“We found the first downside of being an elf.”
He laughs dryly.
“Oh, what a shame,” I say, dramatically.
“I know, I couldn’t be perfect,” he sighs, playing along.
“So… I got you a gift,” I say, reaching into my bag, relieved that nothing got wet.
I pull out my book, and tear out one of the pages.
“It’s… well,” I blush.
“A sketch of Arthur, thank you,” he says, running his fingers along the outline of Arthur’s nose.
“Yeah… I… made the ink… strong so it won’t fade. It’s a thank you for the potion. It got me through my studies.”
“I shall treasure this, though one day I’ll be expecting a drawing of you.”
“M-Me? What for?”
“You’re also my friend.”
He slips the drawing between the pages of a book in his bag.
“Well, maybe I can sketch one for you now, since I brought a mirror for that invisible herb we were going to pick.”
I turn my book to an empty page, pull an ink bottle out of my bag, uncork it, and set it on the ground close to me. Lucien pulls out his own mirror, and holds it up towards my face. I frown at myself in the mirror, then begin sketching.
When I’m finished, I show it to Lucien.
“Excellent, when it dries, I can place you next to Arthur.”
“Place me far away from Arthur,” I demand. “You might curse us to a long life together.”
“Did you use the same ink?”
“It’s fine. By the time that picture fades, you’ll be in the Grove, and I’ll be on an adventure! You’ll have forgotten all about me.”
“I intend to be with you for a long time, you know.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Lucien.”
“I don’t.”
I’m speechless, but Lucien doesn’t notice. He rifles through his bag, and pulls out a small wrapped package, which fills the air with the warm scent of honey when he unwraps it. Lucien takes a bite from the small piece of honey cake, and presses the rest of it to my lips as he licks the wrapping.
“Do you like it?” He asks.
I grab his wrist and lick his fingers just before he puts them in his mouth. A look of surprise flashes across his face. He cups my cheek, and pulls me closer. Our lips are close, and I shut my eyes. He licks the honey off the corner of my mouth, instead, and laughs at me.
“Did you want me to kiss you?”
“N-No!” I scoff. “Aren’t you engaged? I’d never.”
“That’s… the only problem you have?”
“Yes! That, and you’re friends with Arthur!”
“You like Arthur.”
“Uh…” I wince. “Sure.”
“Is that it?”
“N-No!”
“What else?”
“Y-You’re… You’re… perfect otherwise, but those are some serious flaws!”
All my thoughts disappear, and I’m trying to remember how we began this conversation.
“I’m sorry I did that,” I say shyly. “I shouldn’t have.”
“I see. I think the storm just got worse,” he mumbles, pushing the pieces of fabric deeper into his ears.
“Great, we might as well settle down for the night. Good thing we’ve come prepared.”
I unpack my bedroll, and lay it out on flat ground, already missing my bed back at the Academy, as I stare at the rocky ground.
“I suppose you’re right,” he sighs, leaning back against the cave wall, and pulling the hood of his cloak low over his face.
“You can just sleep like that?” I ask, getting into my bedroll, and pulling my cloak tightly around me.
“I can.”
“Is it because your beds back home are also built out of the trees? And your mattresses are stuffed with splinters and moss?”
“We have proper beds,” he chuckles. “But I’ve been on the road most of my life, so I can do without. I used to sit on the branches of the trees when it was my turn to keep watch. I had better hearing than most, so I never really had to be awake after… Arthur’s incident.”
“Do you prefer it over a proper bed?”
“Absolutely not. I’m completely spoiled, just like you.”
“Me? I love my bed at the Academy. It’s much better than the one I have back home.”
“Really? I miss my bed back home. Arthur complains endlessly about the beds at the Academy, too. His bed is stuffed with feathers.”
“Well, then I’m not as spoiled as you thought.”
“And I’m not engaged.”
“W-What?”
“Sweet Selene, you’re incredibly obtuse, sometimes.”
“I’m not! You usually are!”
“Then you’re misunderstanding me on purpose,” he sighs.
“N-No…”
I replay the conversation in my head, not wanting to make sense of the obvious.
“I’m not engaged, Luna, and I wouldn’t mind kissing you.”
I hide beneath my blanket, pretending to have fallen asleep.
“I know you’re awake, I have excellent hearing.”
“Well, take the hint, and stop talking.”
“Fine, we’ll talk about this some other time.”
I grumble. “You won’t get upset if we don’t talk about it?”
“Of course not, because we’ll be talking about this some other time.”
“You won’t get upset if we don’t talk about this ever?”
“You’ll get your kiss when I’m good and ready.”
“Shut up, Lucien! We’re friends.”
“Alright, then. Is that your final argument?”
“Absolutely!”
“Goodnight, Luna.”
“Goodnight.”