Page 21 of The Rowan's Stone
With his magic, he creates a small hole and fills it with water from the pond. He sits down cross-legged beside it and sweeps a hand in front of him, so I sit and face him.
“First, we need to get a feel for the water. I’m going to pull a drop of water from this miniature pool. Cup your hands under the drop, and I’ll cup my hands under yours. Then, I’ll pull the water through your hands to mine. The idea is that you will feel the element when it moves through you, giving you a taste of its essence,” he explains. He pulls a large drop of water from the pool, and it hovers in the air. He cups his hands under it and motions for me to do the same above his.
The water moves closer to my hands. I see it, but I don’t feel the water. The only feeling is the slight current popping between his hands and mine. When the water hits my hands, it’s cold, but it doesn’t feel like anything but water—until he pulls it through my hands. When the water is inside my body, it feels different, like a foreign object.
The water is now between our cupped hands. “Try it again,” I demand. When he pulls it up through my hands, I close my eyes. There’s definitely an object passing through my hand, and I can feel it.
When I explain to him what I’m feeling, he smiles. “It’s a start. Everything outside of your own energy and matter feels foreign. Its composition is different than yours. Even though your body contains water, its different than the water in the pond. Various other elements could be included in trace amounts. For example, the pond contains contaminants from the earth, like dead bugs, the atmosphere, and more. Let’s repeat this experiment until you think you can recognize this water in other places.”
Closing my eyes, I concentrate on the water—its texture, smell, and overall feel in my body and next to my skin. When I think I have it memorized, I give him a signal to move. The water moves above me, to the right, to the left, up, and down. My hands follow it easily. My chest feels tight, like something inside me is trying to connect.
“Keep your eyes closed and stand,” he tells me. “Good, okay, follow the water.”
We have more range to maneuver, and he takes advantage of it, slowly directing the water around the clearing. I follow, but when I feel a tug to my left, I frown. I can clearly feel the drop of water in front of me, so I open my eyes in confusion. The drop is where I thought it was…directly in front. Glancing to my left, I see nothing until I look down and find the hole filled with pond water.
Stunned, I glance from the hole to the drop. “I did it. I recognized the same water.”
He pulls me into a hug and swings me around a few times, sparks lighting up between us. “And you didn’t use any witch magic,” he states confidently, letting my body slide slowly down his.
Mmm, definitely a warrior’s body.
“How can you tell?” I ask skeptically.
“Witch magic has a different taste to it. Once you have a catalog of how the elements taste to you, you will recognize witch magic is unique,” he replies. “Now, let’s see if we can get you to stir the water in the miniature pool.”
He steps over to the hole and swirls his hand over it. The water matches his movements, moving in a languid pace.
Closing my eyes to help me feel for the water, I wait until I can picture it, then I run my hand over it in circles. Opening my eyes, I frown when I don’t see any corresponding movement. “What’s going on?”
“You’re acting like the water is sentient and knows to follow your hand,” he answers. “Try to feel the water attached to your hand. Good, that’s it. Now, move your hand, keeping the attachment in focus.”
Sweat beads on my forehead, and my muscles start cramping. Ignoring them, I continue to hold my palm above the water until I feel it. Taking a small stream of water, I pull on it, while I move my hand in circles. This time, when I open my eyes, I see the water swirl below me.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Fallon states when he sees me sway. “Let’s take a break and grab some water and a snack.” Guiding me to the pond, he helps me sit down and pulls out our food and drinks.
Sitting on the bank, we listen to the waterfall and eat cheese and crackers. My left shoulder itches, and I twist to try and scratch it.
“Here, let me,” he says, reaching over and scratching it for me. “Did I get it?”
“Yes, thank you,” I reply. “I appreciate your help. Do you think this means I’m half Elven?”
“It’s possible, but we can’t know for sure until you exhibit other signs and can move beyond a drop of water. A lot of races are able to feel water, but not many can create water from the compounds itself. Only Fae and the Elven. The two are a lot alike, but the Fae cannot animate objects, which is the final test to confirm Elven heritage. It can also be helpful in determining the strength of the individual’s power, based on how long the animated object retains its life,” he explains.
His fingers reach over and grasp my chin, pulling my head toward him. “Another good sign will be if your eyes turn bright green, like mine. Theron thinks they’re looking greener instead of their usual hazel, but I can’t tell yet.”
I stare into his green eyes. “I’d love to have eyes the color of yours. They’re gorgeous. Anything would be better than the muddy brown green hazel color I’ve got now.” They’re especially beautiful with his dark hair and complexion, although his cheeks now display a tint of pink. “What do you like most about being Elven?”
He stares out into the distance. “I love nature. The beauty and harshness, the bounty it provides to all creatures, the explosion of birth and its counterpart, death, and the overall feeling of peace it brings. It’s teeming with creatures, energy, matter, and new things every day. The elves are tied closely to her and she to us.” His gaze is warm when his eyes flick to mine. “Sorry, I get carried away when it comes to nature. She’s a lovely, fickle creature, but I love her.”
“I understand,” I reply, pondering his words. “I feel the same about fighting. It never feels old or static to me, since it presents me with new challenges every day.”
“Speaking of training, remind me to show you a couple of tweaks on your grip and stance. I know some tiny improvements which could make a big difference in battle.” He goes on to explain the tweaks he wants me to make, and I nod, barely listening. His hands move rapidly, demonstrating the difference in hand holds and why each one is important, while I watch, enthralled with this warrior side of him. His passion for the art of battle is sexy and nearly matches mine.
“Okay?” He waits for me to agree, then stands. “Let’s try moving the water again.”
We spend the next hour moving the water, not only in circles, but up in the air, into waves, jumping out of the pool, creating droplets that rain down on us, and more. I’m exhausted when we finish, but I feel something loosening in my chest.
“It’s like learning to use a new muscle,” I say on a groan and reach back to massage my neck. “I need a hot shower.”
