Page 19 of Fate Calls the Elf Queen

I guess not.Layala folded her hands in front of herself, then separated them and gripped the daggers on her hips. She tapped her foot and inspected the stone pillars forming a perfect circle off to the right of the pond. Elvish scrawl was etched into each one, symbols of elements. Fire, water, flora, lightning, wind, a crescent moon, a sun. They stood at the base of the rocky cliff on the far side of the castle grounds where nature ruled more than elf. No voices from guards or the neighing of horses existed in this part. It was quiet, almost eerily so.

“You typically conjure your magic out of rage or fear.”

Layala startled and turned to face Vesstan. He leaned heavily on his white oak staff and stared into the water. Layala lightly bit down on her lower lip, wondering where he was going with this? Did it matter how her magic was conjured? “I only need it if I’m in danger.”

“That is not true.”

“It’s destructive in nature. I can’t use it for anything else.”

“That is also not true.”

She forced herself not to roll her eyes. As if he knew more about her magic than she did? He’d never even seen her use it. “Enlighten me then.”

“Yes, enlightenment is needed.” He paused and closed his eyes. “What do you see? What do you hear?”

Layala dragged a hand over the back of her neck. “Um, water, trees, stone pillars—”

“Look in the water. What do you see?”

Clearing her throat, Layala leaned forward. A toad leapt from a lily pad and created tiny rippling waves. Once the water became placid, her reflection formed. “I see me.”

“And who are you?”

“I’m Layala—”

“That is your name. Whoareyou?”

She stared at herself for a long time. She was reckless and full of anger and uncertainty. Powerful when she must be, but that confidence wavered, and at times was overshadowed by insecurity and harsh words. She touched her cheek. She didn’t want the petty harassing notes, no doubt from Talon and her friends, to get to her but they were like tiny paper cuts, small, but they still stung. And she couldn’t do anything about it because she promised Thane she’d never hurt or threaten Talon again.

Worse were those accusing her of being the reason their loved ones were gone forever.

“What do you hear?” he asked, interrupting her thoughts.

Layala stilled her breath and listened to nature around them for a moment. “I hear birds singing, ribbits from toads, the wind in the treetops. Your heartbeat and mine.”

He touched her temple. “What do you hear in here?”

Tears suddenly burned her eyes and a wave of anger and sadness washed over her. She hadn’t cried in months, but all the pent-up rage hit her. “I hear—” she didn’t even want to voice her insecurities but as the frustrated tears slipped down her cheeks, she said, “Thane does not want me anymore. I never fit in anywhere I go. Everyone hates me because I woke the Black Mage.” She swiped the angry tears spilling down her cheeks. “I was supposed to be their savior.” She lifted her chin and blinked the last of her tears away. “But I am no savior at all.”

She was the elf who could stop dragons and bring them to their knees, but she was also the elf who shattered the day she failed all of Adalon.

Vesstan placed a gentle, warm hand on her shoulder. “When I was your age, I thought I knew everything there was to know about magic. I was arrogant and foolish. I’d studied it since I was a child under the tutelage of Atarah, and she was a wonderful mentor. Until the day she took me onto a battlefield. The pale ones charged, slamming into our ranks, screeching and hollering, you know the sound. Weapons clashed, there was much blood, and the smell…” he brought his veiny, wrinkled hand to his nose and mouth as if the scent infiltrated him now. “I froze. Fear paralyzed me. See, Atarah taught me to find serenity, to feel nature and its calm and bring forth my power. At that moment I couldn’t find it. I watched as a soldier twenty feet from me was torn into and murdered. I could have stopped it. I had the power, but I failed. I could have saved him. I could have been his savior, but I wasn’t, and I cried too. But I learned from that failure. I learned I never wanted to feel that way again.”

Layala nodded but he couldn’t feel the enormous pressure she did.

“You have a fighting spirit, Layala, and you won’t let this break you. Everyone fails, it’s whether or not we get back up and fight again that matters more.” He stroked his long white beard. “Thane told me you’ve been restless, jumpy, and paranoid.”

Layala balked. “If he was in my situation he would be too.”

“It’s not a slight but we must forge peace and calm into you. You’ve never trained with your magic, and a restless soul and racing mind is detrimental to a warrior mage. You need a control that only someone with confidence in herself can have. A sense of knowing who you truly are.”

“But what if I don’t know who I am?”

He smiled, further wrinkling the skin around his eyes. “You will.”

Thane must have told him about his suspicions of her being a goddess reborn. That’s what he wanted to bring out. It was true she never trained her magic before. Only with weapons. Her power was reckless, and even if she was as stubborn as a mule as Thane so delicately put it, she knew on this she was a novice.

He hobbled over to a gray stone bench on the outside of the circle and sat beside Piper, resting the staff across his thighs. “Welcome.”

---