“Soothing tonics are over here,” I tell Lucien.
He picks up the large crate filled with potions perfectly lined in rows, and I take out a few gray ones from inside it, neatly organizing them with the others. Pulling the older ones forward on the shelf, and I place the new ones behind them.
“You’re making Arthur look bad. He just used to shove them all into the shelf without sorting them. When I was around to help, I’d fix them for him, and he’d take all the credit.”
“Why would you let him do that? He’s so spoiled already.”
“I don’t know, Luna. I’m an idiot sometimes when it comes to him,” he groans.
I turn to him, and laugh when I notice the blue flush on his cheeks.
“You really are, I’ve noticed. You seem to be more aware of it lately, though. I haven’t heard you sigh dreamily in his direction for quite some time.”
“I’ve… been away from him since I started my studies. I thought it would be the opposite. I thought I’d miss him, but I noticed I was less…”
“Distraught?”
“I’m not sure, honestly,” he laughs. “He just seems more childish now compared to… before.”
“The… healing potions are the green ones? He is a child, so that makes sense.”
“Yes, they are. I used to like it. I think I found it… endearing. Like we would always have fun together.”
“What are these blue ones for? ‘Mana regeneration’? What’s that? It’s not endearing, it’s annoying. I know I’d enjoy my time better if he wasn’t purposely trying to get a rise out of me.”
“He’s not that bad. I think that’s his way of making sure you notice him. Yes, when you get to the higher levels of magical studies, some spells will drain your energy. These are used often by the students of the Academy when they have exams coming up. It allows them to study their spells for longer periods of time.”
“I see…” I say, placing them on the shelf next to the others. “I guess you’re just not as bothered as I am. Selene blessed you with patience I’ll never have. How have you been sleeping? And your headaches?”
“Uh… I’ve been sleeping just fine. It’s just on the road when I have trouble. I’m still taking soothing tonics, but not as much anymore.”
“Hmm…” I grumble, arranging the bottles. “That sounds terrible. You must hate traveling, and it’s all Arthur’s fault.”
“I do. I’m looking forward to going home, and staying there when the time comes.”
“Um… the Euphoria Elixir… Uh… How are you going to travel the stars with me if you never travel?”
“It’s just below the Brew of Tranquility. We can negotiate.”
We’re quiet for a while as I focus on my sorting.
“Lucien…” I mumble, lining up the small vials on the shelf, and pushing the old ones forward. “Gods, do we need to take Arthur? I don’t want to travel the stars with someone like him. Can you just imagine? He’d complain non stop.”
“‘This bed is awful!’”
“‘This wine is not good enough!’ ‘How do you peasants consume this vile poison?’”
“Or… ‘This isn’t that amazing. I want to go home to my palace!’”
“He’d make the whole thing just awful.”
“He absolutely would,” smiles Lucien.
“You’d travel to other worlds with him, though, wouldn’t you?”
“In a heartbeat, Luna,” he says, pained.
“Because you’re in love?” I whisper.
“Because he’s still my best friend, even though he is a pain in the ass.”
“Um… hair growing tonic?”
“Oh, on this other shelf,” he huffs, readjusting the crate in his arms.
“Why don’t you just set that down on the counter, and help me sort, Lucien?”
“You’re right. I was just scared of setting it down earlier when it was so full. I could barely keep myself from dropping it.”
He grunts, and the bottles all clink when the crate comes in contact with the counter.
“Alright, hair growing tonics, just up there. Use the ladder, be careful. It shakes a bit.”
Standing at the top of the ladder, and gripping the railing as tightly as I can, I reach down for several more potions that Lucien is passing up to me. I smile at my work, having made all of the labels face out.
“You’re definitely making Arthur look bad, and possibly even me. Now, come down before you fall.”
“Just give me the rest of them. I might as well sort them while I’m up here.”
“It’s too far a reach. The ladder is not a good one. It’s Madame Treeleaf’s-”
“Lucien,” I say, holding a hand out to him.
“I won’t catch you if you fall,” he threatens.
“Good thing I’m a Wind-Caller, then,” I say, snatching up the potions from his hands, and leaning on one side of the ladder to better reach the next shelf over.
The world moves in slow-motion. The ladder creaks, and my foot slips off the rung. I watch Lucien cast a spell on the bottles I’d been holding, a small wind preventing them from shattering when they hit the floor. Then, he reaches for me, and casts the same wind spell on my body. I do the same at the same time, causing our spells to collide and knock us away from each other. I hang from the ladder with one hand, as Lucien is knocked against the front counter.
“Gods, Luna, I told you!” He says, irritably.
“Sorry,” I mumble, climbing down from the ladder.
Lucien rubs the back of his head, and reluctantly takes the hand I offer to him.
“I’ll… pay for your healing potion.”
“It’s fine, just… listen next time, won’t you? That ladder has never been a good one, but Madam Treeleaf refuses to make another, even though she’s an Earth-Mender.”
“I wonder why.”
“I don’t know, Arthur said it had something to do with it being the first thing she created with her powers.”
“Well, that explains why it wobbles. You could have started with that.”
He scoffs, and places a firm grip on my hips as I climb up the ladder. I nearly miss the next rung when his hands slide around my thighs, making my knees weak. Lucien reflexively tightens his grip on me.
“Sorry, were you hurt there?” He asks, relaxing his hold. “I can climb up, and you can hand me the potions.”
“No, it’s fine,” I say, shyly. “I just slipped.”
He immediately busies himself by picking up the fallen potions from the floor one at a time, and piling them into his apron. Thankfully, none of them have shattered.
When the last of the potions are sorted and placed on the shelves, Lucien once again places his hands on my hips as I climb down, this time being more gentle. I turn to face him, and remain still, gazing at him. My heart skips a beat when I notice the intensity of his stare. His eyes flicker down to my lips, and I feel my cheeks flush when he smiles. He cups my cheek, his hands warm and soft, and runs his thumb gently over the tips of my ears.
“Luuu…” I can’t speak, his name is caught in my throat, and I have to force it out. “Lucien.”
“Yes?” He asks, without reacting.
“Don’t you think you’re a bit…”
He steps away from me, and nervously fiddles with the end of his braid.
“Sorry, I… I was thinking of someo- thing else.”
“Your fiancée back home? Or Arthur?”
“She’s not my fiancée, and definitely not Arthur,” he murmurs.
He turns away quickly, takes up the crate on the counter, and disappears into the rear room. The bell rings, and a very pregnant woman walks in.
“Is Madam Treeleaf here?” She asks.
“She had to step out, I’m afraid.”
“Do you know when she’ll be back?”
“No.”
The woman steps past me, and places a note on the counter.
“Well, I suppose I’ll just leave this here.”
Lucien reemerges from the back room.
“Hello,” he says, politely.
The woman huffs, and walks out grumbling.
I grimace, and look over at Lucien who seems unbothered. He carries on, keeping himself busy twisting the potion bottles on the shelves around, so their labels face out.
“I’m… sorry,” I mumble.
“Hmm? Oh, no, that’s fine. It’s the City of Lights. It’s quite normal here.”
“You’re not serious.”
“I was more surprised by your… Marcellus, than anyone else. I didn’t think it’d reached that far south… east to the smaller parts of down that still do trades with the Grove.”
“It… I guess it has. Even Arthur said that his step mother is… Let’s… take a small break. The garden perhaps?”
Through the back door, is Madam Treeleaf’s herb garden, a small well, and a tree with many herbs strung by strings to its branches.
Lucien’s been practicing shadow traveling for hours, and I am beginning to get used to it. I’ve finally led him in teleporting us under the tree in the small garden, when I see Lucien’s ear twitch. He races into the shop, then returns several minutes later appearing slightly distraught.
“Uh, you should handle this one. He’s taking them for… a curse. He’s… just going to die poor and young.”
I give him a puzzled look as I step inside.
“Hello, what potion can I get for you?”
“Minor healing potion.”
“Um… five copper coins,” I say, fetching a bottle from the shelf.
He pushes the coins into my hand firmly, and leaves.
“Sorry,” Lucien mumbles. “I… tried to suggest another potion, but he wouldn’t take it. He got upset with me. He’s apparently been coming here for years.”
“His name?”
“Uh… Lark?”
I write down the order into the record book beneath the counter.
“I’m sure Madam Treeleaf will know him then,” I reassure Lucien. “What… Why do you look so upset?”
“He… There's a curse they place on Mystics who have committed some of the worst crimes, usually by their own definition of crimes, and the cursed are forced to live a painful existence until they… kill themselves or try to continue living. They wind up losing their minds, and get themselves killed anyway. He seemed to have some sort of youth extracting curse, but also immortal, so he’s… suffering greatly from unimaginable pains of aging, which means he’s still committing the same crime.”
“Goodness, I wonder what it was.”
“He said he fell in love with an elf maiden.”
“Elf maidens you mean?”
“No, just the one.”
“That’s… unfortunate.”
“Always be careful when traveling shadows, they can be quite tricky when you’re trying to be precise. You should also never travel through a shadow that is smaller than your own, it just won’t work.”
“I see, so… uh…”
I focus on a shadow forming behind the tree int he garden, and attempt to travel through it with Lucien. The sensation of falling unbalances me, and I catch myself against his back, causing him to fall forward. He groans in pain, when I roll off him. I lie on the ground, and stare up at the sky that is now pink from the light of the setting sun.
“Sorry, that feeling is…”
“You’ll get used to it.”
“Ugh, it’s dreadful. I feel ill. Like I’ve been spinning in circles and suddenly stopped.”
Lucien sits up, and leans over me. His long braid cascades down over his shoulder, and the end of it tickles my cheek.
“Come on, then, no need to continue if you’re feeling unwell.”
He offers me a hand so that I can sit up.
“Sorry, I know you’re very excited, and I hate to ruin the fun.”
He smiles warmly at me. “Nonsense, it’s still exciting. We just need to take a break.”
He gets to his feet, and dusts off his clothes before offering his hand to me once again. I take it, and struggle to my feet.
“Quickly now,” he says. “The bell rang.”
As I walk to the shop floor, I dust myself off, and Lucien follows behind me, straightening my hair, and removing bits of leaves and twigs.
“Hello, what potion can I get for you?” I ask, trying to catch my breath.
The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
The woman walks into the shop cautiously, and stares around in awe. She has long black hair, and eyes just as dark, with flecks of gold, visible now by the light pouring in through the second story window. She is petite, and dressed in the fine clothing of Solari that’s made of light flowing fabric, covered in amazingly intricate, golden designs.
“I’m not sure,” she mumbles. “I… ate a funny plant, and… strange things have been happening.”
“Uh… do you know what the plant looked like?”
“Um… it was… white… and glowing. It’s… I thought it was poisonous. I don’t know why I ate it.”
I hear Lucien approaching the back door of the shop, trying to take a peek at the woman. Her eyes flicker over to the rear door when he appears.
“S-Sorry. He’s not a stranger. He works here with me and Madam Treeleaf.”
“You’re… a dark elf.”
“I’ll get out of your way,” he sighs.
“N-No! I just… I haven’t seen one of you in so long since… Gods, you’re all so strikingly beautiful.”
Lucien stares at me, maintaining a neutral expression on his face, and an obviously panicked look in his eyes.
“Um… so… a duneswift approached me…” she continues on.
“What’s a duneswift?” I inquire.
“The opposite of a shadowstalker,” states Lucien. “They reside up north by the deserts of Solari. They guide lost travelers to the nearest oasis, or get them more lost if deemed unworthy of living.”
“That’s… terrifying,” I mutter.
“Well,” continues the woman. “I passed out, and somehow, I’ve found my way here. Maybe a healing potion? There’s… someone here in the city I feel I should meet.”
“What’s your name, traveler?”
“Seraphina… Uh- Ainsley.”
“Are… you also a student of the Academy?”
“I have become a level six Earth-Mender already. It’s been several years.”
“I see…”
“I got the feeling I’d meet important people here, and I believe you’re one of them.”
“I see, well… you’ve come to the wrong place. There’s no one important he-”
“Do you get premonitions?” Asks Lucien, excitedly.
“Premonitions?” I ask.
“If she’s a Fire-Wielder, her instincts guide her.”
“Truly?”
“You… must be very new to the Academy,” she says.
“I am… how did you guess?”
“Madam Treeleaf always takes in student apprentices. Her last one must have finally completed his level four. How is Arthur? Is he still here?” She asks, shyly.
“ARTHUR!” I gasp. “He’s engaged to be married!”
“I know that!” She says, defensively, with a flush on her cheeks. “He’s just a dear friend of mine.”
“I’ll send your greetings to him,” says Lucien. “I’m afraid he’s still busy with his level five studies.”
“You’re… you’re that Lucien?”
“Whatever he said about me, it was most likely untrue, you can ask Luna,” he nods his head in my direction.
I nod emphatically.
“He spoke very highly of you,” she says.
“Was he drunk?” I scoff.
Seraphina and Lucien share a laugh.
“I’ll… be seeing you around, Luna… Lucien. I’ll leave my location with you. Tell Arthur to come see me.”
She walks out of the shop, leaving behind a small slip of paper with the name of an inn located on the opposite side of the city. Lucien tucks it safely into his pocket when I refuse to touch it.
“I wonder what her next vision will be,” he says, excitedly.
“Hopefully a vision of Arthur getting married, and bringing up his fifteen children with the proper person,” I groan. “She doesn’t actually find him attractive, does she?”
“Some people fall in love with their eyes, some fall in love with their hearts, some fall in love with the idea of being in love, and some don’t fall in love at all.”
“The last ones are the luckiest,” I grumble, pushing around some empty vials across the counter.
It might also be some twisted version of the feelings I’m beginning to feel for Lucien, but being in love is not the same as love. I sigh, and begin to read through the shops’ logs to keep me distracted.
“Marcellus?”
“Ugh, Lucien,” I groan. “Not everything is about Marcellus, I swear.”
“I thought… My mistake. No need to be so defensive. You look pensive.”
“Just because we’re talking about… love or whatever, doesn’t mean… Never mind. When do you think Madam Treeleaf will return? I smell like everything in the shop, and it’s not a pleasant smell. I want to wash it off. Maybe I’ll bathe in the river and spare the others… wash my clothes while I’m at it.”
“I’m sure she’ll return soon.”
“So… if Fire-Wielders can see potential futures, and Wind-Callers can fly, what special ability do Earth-Menders and Water-Bearers get?”
“Um… let’s see… Master Eaimer said Earth-Menders can make their skin impenetrable, and Water-Bearers… can breathe underwater, if I recall correctly. The skills are difficult to master, though. Seraphina must be a very powerful Mystic if she can already use a Fire-Wielder’s ability”
“You will be, too, if you master all your levels of magic. Flying, stone skin, underwater breathing, and premonition! What about Light-Weavers and Shadow-Casters?”
“If I got any more abilities, the gods really would be unfair, wouldn’t it?”
“I suppose…”
“And I’ll only get those abilities if I’m lucky. It’s going to take a long time for me to master each element. I’m taking several more courses than you.”
“What do you want to focus on?” I asked, getting comfortable on a stool by the counter.
“I’m… actually not sure yet.”
“Hmm, flying sounds exciting,” I murmur. “And it’d be easier to travel with you. I’m getting hungry. We’ve been working for hours without rest. I could run out and get something for us, if you’d like.”
“I’ll go. I know you’re not familiar with the entire city just yet, and I know a place with the best pastries and meat pies.”
“Thank you. I shall pay you back,” I call after him when he exits the shop. “Be careful!”
“You can pay me back by speaking with that woman when you get the chance again,” he cries through one of the shop windows just outside. “I’ve a good feeling about her.”
“What kind of feeling?”
“She could be a good friend for you.”
“I’ve got friends.”
“Sure you do, but you could always use more.”
“… and then the woman just slaps Arthur!” Laughs Lucien. “You should have seen the look on his face, as if he had the right to become insulted after what he told her.”
“The nerve!”
“I know. I couldn’t even comfort him, I was laughing hard, and couldn’t stop to catch my breath. He said I was the worst friend he’s ever had, and I had to remind him I was probably the only friend he had at that moment. He’s gotten much better, though… maybe. I can’t tell, sometimes. You’ve got a bit of jam just there.”
He points to the corner of his own mouth, and I try to lick where he’s indicated.
“Did I get it?”
“No, just… one second.”
He reaches towards my face, and I lean back, away from his touch, reflexively, nearly toppling off my seat.
“Stop squirming like a child,” he scolds me, jokingly. “You’re going to hurt yourself. I’m just trying to help you.”
“Sorry, fingers towards my face usually meant my sisters were up to tricks again.”
He wipes my cheek with his thumb, and licks the jam from his fingers.
“Hey,” I laughed. “That was mine.”
“Oh, pardon me,” he blushes, and holds his pastry towards me.
I take the smallest possible bite, and push his hand away.
“Thank you,” I say, with a wide grin.
He watches me, lips parted slightly.
“So,” I continue, staring at his mouth. “You say much about Arthur, but tell me more about yourself.”
“Uh… what about me?” He grumbles, unhappily.
“Tell me about your parents, maybe?”
“O-Oh… let’s see… Theirs was a love story not nearly as romantic as Selene and Sol’s, but… my parents met at the Grove, then again at the Academy,” he fidgets nervously in his chair. “I’m one of two children. We were both left in the care of my grandmother when they passed, so I don’t know much about them, except what I’ve heard from others, and what’s written in my mother’s journals. My grandmother never speaks of them much or how they passed, but she rushed to leave the Grove with my sister when it happened.”
“I’m… sorry. You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”
“It’s alright. You talked to me about your family, so I can do the same.”
“Mine’s not so… sad.”
“It’s not as sad anymore.”
“Well, what do you know about them?”
“My grandmother,” he continues. “Told me my parents were in love for hundreds of years, and when their life of adventure finally came to an end, they settled down in Dark Grove, and had me and my younger sister. I’m glad they lived happily for so long together, I just wish they’d lived a bit longer so I could remember what they were like.”
“Why did you stay, though? Weren’t you sad to be surrounded by… them?”
“I didn’t want to leave what was left of them behind. I still live in our old home. My mother wrote down much of their adventures, the same way you do. Drawings, spells, all sorts of notes in many books and journals. She even wrote of the fights she’d had with my father trying to convince him to leave behind his life of adventure to settle down. She… didn’t expect him to enjoy fatherhood as much as he did, and was pleasantly surprised. They were happy, and they loved my sister and I very much. It’s comforting to keep those memories close, and the home they created for us.”
I reach a hand towards him, and place it on his shoulder. He places his hand over mine, and squeezes it lightly.
“I’m sorry. Does it ever get lonely? I can’t stand the silence when no one is there.”
“I get by. I have the wonderful company of my dearest friend. Surprisingly, that friend is Arthur. I visited him often when he wasn’t busy with his studies. Master Eaimer has always been a close family friend, and is like a grandfather to me. It’s not so lonely.”
“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you that you need better friends, if Arthur is the best you’ve got.”
“Are we not friends yet? In that case, I hope we can be friends soon enough.”
“I’d be happy to be considered your friend, Lucien,” I say, smiling like a fool.
“I’m glad… I’ve been afraid to admit I’ve grown quite fond of you,” he smiles warmly, and his knee brushes past mine.
“Why would you be afraid to admit that?” I bite my lip to hide a smirk.
“Your Marcellus would hate me if I’d ever uttered those words out loud. Arthur would never cease bothering the both of us. And…”
“And?”
“Just don’t tell Arthur. He could either grow very attached to you, or try his best to push you away.”
“Jealousy?”
“Not his finest trait, I’m afraid.”
“He’s got many unlikeable traits.”
“I know,” he says, squeezing my hand again, and rubbing his thumb along the top of it.
His ear twitches, and he jumps quickly away from me, just as the bell rings, and Madam Treeleaf enters the shop.
“I’m sorry, you two, my business took longer to settle than I realized. I remembered that if the both of you were going to be working here in my shop, I needed to find a way to grant you access through the gates at night in case we ever return late from our foraging. In addition to that, my concerns were completely ignored, so if you ever see that man again, let me know immediately, and I’ll handle the matter myself.”
I give her a worried look, and she cackles.
“I’ll keep him alive, don’t you worry about that.”
My mouth forms a nervous smile.
“Did we have any other patrons?”
“Not many.”
“That’s alright, the shop will be busy tomorrow. Run along, you two. Get some rest. Thank you for the hard work.”
“Um… Could I go out tonight, since you mentioned it? I need to wash my clothes, and I wish not to make my room smell of… well, everything. I thought I could go to the river outside the city walls.”
“Of course, everything has been arranged already. Leave your name and mine with the guard. Though I do hope you’re bringing someone with you. It’s not safe at night, and that man has given me an uneasy feeling.”
“I’ll go with her, Madam Treeleaf. I also smell… interesting.”
“Alright, then. Have a goodnight.”
“Just… try to leap to that shadow over there. It’s not too far, and it’s big enough. Watch.”
Lucien vanishes, and reappears some distance away, waves a hand at me, then reappears next to me.
“I’m… not an expert yet, Lucien,” I grumble, taking his hand. “What if I hurt myself?”
“The only way you can hurt yourself using dark magic, is if you’re purposely doing it wrong, or land somewhere above the ground. You’re fine, just… focus.”
“Focus…” I shut my eyes, and feel the familiar sensation of falling.
When I open my eyes, Lucien is standing in front of me, and catches me as I stumble forward.
“This is the worst.”
“If you don’t practice, you’ll never get used to it.”
“Wind magic doesn’t really come with consequences like this, you know.”
I groan, and take a seat on the ground, giving my head a moment to stop spinning.
“Can I just walk next time?”
“It’s more fun this way.”
“It’s not. Find some herbs to wash our clothing. I’ll help you in a moment, once the world stops spinning.”
“Alright. You may begin bathing. I’ll warn you when I come back.”
Behind a line of trees, I nervously scrub myself with a rag, listening for any sign of Lucien. I’m afraid I won’t hear him when he comes back, and so I remained dressed.
“Luna, I’m here!” He warns.
“Back here.”
When he passes the line of trees, he laughs.
“You’re still wearing your smelly clothes? And you’re bathing in them, too?”
“I didn’t… need you walking in on me. I didn’t think I would hear you.”
“I see. Well, I found some herbs for the wash. You can just hand me your clothing once you’ve undressed, and I swear not to look at you, and won’t return until you’re done.”
“That’s uh…”
“Much trust you’re putting in me?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve brought a change of clothing. If I take off with your clothes, you’ll have a backup.”
“Very well,” I tut. “But that’s not what I’m worried about.”
“I’ll keep my hands off you, until you grant me permission to touch you, I guarantee it.”
My cheeks burn. “Until I grant you permission to do what?”
He turns away, and coughs. “Just set the clothes next to me, and I’ll leave.”
When I’m fully dressed, I locate Lucien staring up at the skies, and our washed garments hanging from a rope tied between two trees.
“It’s… all yours, Lucien,” I say, shyly. “I can wash your clothing for you while I wait.”
“No peeking,” he says, with a smirk.
I blush when he removes his robe, and nearly scream aloud when he continues to strip before me. I turn away immediately feeling my body heat up.
“Lucien, a warning.”
“Luna,” he laughs. “I’m naked. You can try to keep your eyes to yourself, but I won’t stop you from looking.”
“You!” I scream. “Just give me your clothes.”
“With pleasure, Luna.”
The stars are twinkling, and the leaves in the trees rustle when the night breeze blows gently. I lie back on my bag, and shut my eyes, unable to put off sleep for much longer. What is taking Lucien so long? I look over at the trees one more time. He’s still not making his way back.
“Sorry,” he apologizes, after successfully waking me. “I need your help, if… you don’t mind.”
“Sure. What is… it…?” His hair is soaked, and no longer braided. It trails behind him, and gets tangled up with leaves and other debris along the ground when he walks towards me.
“My hair, of course.”
“I’ll try my best, but you’re going to be disappointed.”
He pushes an ornate ivory comb into my hands decorated in a moon and star motif.
“Oh, this is quite beautiful,” I comment, turning it in my hands.
“Thank you, it was my mother’s. It was one of the first gifts my father got for her.”
“That makes it even more precious. Are you sure you can trust me with this?”
“I’m not worried, unless you’re going to purposely try to break it.”
I comb his long hair, and smile as I recall memories of doing the same for my sisters and my mother. I remember how my mother would braid my hair before festivals, and how my sisters used to tie colorful strings into their own hair, and I would beg them to do the same for me.
When all the knots are out, I struggle to lift sections of his hair to form a braid, and he chuckles. I poke his side, making him cry out in pain, and he does the same to me.
“Hey, hey! I’m trying to help you,” I complain.
“That doesn’t give you a right to abuse me,” he says with a laugh.
I braid for what feels like hours, lifting heavy sections of his hair, and untangling it every so often.
My arms fall limp and sore at my sides when I finally finish tightening the final hair ribbon. I give my numbed hands a shake to encourage some blood to rush back to them. Feeling accomplished, I lie back, and look up at the sky.
“No more, right?” I ask.
“Uh… a few more things, if you don’t mind. I cannot place the feathers back myself. Not neatly, anyway, and I don’t think you’d like it if I messed up your hard work.”
I hold out a hand towards him, and he puts various feathers and jewels tied to strings into my hand.
“It doesn’t matter where they go.”
“Hmm,” I huff, sitting back up.
I tie the strings in knots on various parts of his braid, trying to place them as closely as I can to their original locations.
“How do you even do this in the first place?” I grumble.
“It’s usually quite difficult, as you can see.”
“Why don’t you cut it?”
“I might, one day. It is getting quite heavy to carry around so much hair. One more thing…” he puts a small ring with a connected chain and jewel into my hand.
“Ah, yes. Can’t have your horns looking so plain,” I tease.
“Absolutely not.”
He leans back, and I loop the ring around one of his horns. He fastens on several earrings to his long ears, and forms braids with the remaining strands at his ear that are shorter than the rest, then hangs another jewel near his left ear. I just watch him, admiring the way the light of the moon reflects off him.
“Thank you, Luna,” he says, with a slight bow.
“You’re… welcome,” I say, trailing my fingers along the tips of his ears.
“I like your ears,” I admit. “With all of those jewels… your hair. Your horns. You’re almost as pleasant to look at as the night sky. You take my breath away.”
“Thank you. I… thank you.”
Gods, how embarrassing.