The Elves of Loth

Chapter Thirteen

Sitting in her widow, legs dangling over the edge, Aspenleaf tried to enjoy her one day off before training began once more. Below her, Hawkwing was sitting in the shady grass under the Aspen that her cabin was built around. Pencil in hand, he peered down at his notebook with a puzzled expression on his face. A cool breeze relived the day’s heat and made the leaves around her tremble.

He looked so much like a little kid, sitting there, that she almost forgot he’d fought a battle the day before. She had to ask herself why she was so angry him – it was just an accident. Still, that accident had nearly cost her the life of her dragon.

Before she could stop herself, Aspenleaf leaped from her window, plummeting for a few seconds before landing softly and gracefully on the ground next to Hawkwing. Although he didn’t flinch at her sudden arrival, he did look considerably surprised. No doubt he wasn’t expecting her to talk to him when it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Crouching next to him on the lush grass, she peered over his shoulder at the page he’d been sketching on.

All eight combat hunters stood in a line, looking formidable in their scorched armour, their figures silhouetted by the flames behind them. Hawkwing had portrayed each elf perfectly, some holding swords while others had quivers of arrows strapped to their backs. In the center of the page stood Aspenleaf, a single arrow mounted in her bow, pointed forwards at an unseen enemy, face determined.

“It’s not done yet.” He stated simply, glancing at her for a brief moment before turning to look at his notebook once more. To Aspenleaf, the sketch looked finished, and she wondered what he planned to add. Knowing nothing about art, she hesitated before asking the question.

“What are you going to add?” Now it was Hawkwing’s turn to hesitate, looking puzzled as he stared at the page. In an instant he went from looking like a young kid to appearing to be the same age as her. She knew he was only a year younger than her but sometimes he seemed so young.

“I don’t know yet.” It took Aspenleaf a second to realise what he was talking about, until she emerged from her thoughts to remember their previous conversation. For a moment after that there was silence, as both of them tried to think of something to say. In the end, Hawkwing spoke again turning to look at her directly this time, “Do you think we’re going to die?” Aspenleaf, taken aback by his openness in talking about something like that, stared at him for a second, mouth agape.

Stuttering, Aspenleaf shook her head, “No, of course not.” She opened her mouth to speak again, to assure him that they would be fine, but he spoke first, whirling on her before she could get the words out, his tone angry now.

“Why? Is it because we’re too important?” His glare was intense but Aspenleaf didn’t flinch, listening as he continued, “Our status doesn’t protect us anymore!” Now he was practically screaming, as if she’d suggested they throw themselves off of a cliff. Assuming that they were going to survive was not unreasonable, considering they had eight dragons on their side. He would reject that argument, though.

“You’re right.” She interrupted, before he could go on, “Our status doesn’t protect us, but you have to remember why we’re so important. We’re special because of the skill we’ve learned, because of our prowess in battle and that’s what will protect us – our skills.” Satisfied with her argument, she leaned back on the grass, with her hands clasped behind her head, looking up at him, practically daring him to argue, but he was never one for dares.

“I hate this.” He seemed to be a fan of short sentences, of never giving any details, leaving everyone else with questions. Sometimes she found it annoying, like when the bearded general never mentioned his name, but now, relaxing in the heat, she didn’t mind so much.

“What?” she turned to see that he was lying down as well, his notebook and pencil on the grass next to him. For a moment he didn’t respond, but it wasn’t awkward as it had been at the beginning of their conversation, just thoughtful.

Hawkwing turned to face Aspenleaf, becoming serious again, “The calm before the storm; the cool before the flame. I hate waiting! Why can’t we just get this over with?” Aspenleaf could tell he was trying hard not to raise his voice, but his words still sounded quite thoughtful.

“I like it.” Mimicking his style of talking, Aspenleaf waited for him to ask for clarification. Unexpectedly, he sat up, reaching to grab a leaf floating in the wind, then he turned back to her, delicately holding the leaf between his fingers without breaking it.

“Why?” He asked, seeming genuinely curious. Aspenleaf smiled, trying to decide which version of that story she should tell him. Normally she went straight for the default answer about there being more time to prepare and to get her head in the game, but this time she wasn’t so sure.

“Because,” she began, “I can pretend that the battle’s never coming.” Again, he looked thoughtful, more relaxed than he usually did, and she wondered if he would look at her differently now that he’d seen a side of her that feared the upcoming battle, that feared death.

Instead, he simply said, “Go enjoy yourself, then.” It was by far the best advice she’d heard in a long time, and for once she decided to listen. Sanding up, she dusted herself off, intending to fly around a bit with Fireflight. Hawkwing stood as well, wishing her a good day in his usual, polite manner.

Bending down, Aspenleaf picked up Hawkwing’s notebook and pen, handing them to him. As he took them from her hands, though, he fumbled and dropped them, his notebook landing on the ground, apparently intact. Its pages fluttered by, one by one until they came to a stop, the book open to its last page.

Desperately, Hawkwing reached for it, trying to close it up before she could see what was sketched on it, but, unbeknownst to him, she already had. The drawing depicted an elven girl with long, dark hair and a slender face, smiling shyly. The sketch only showed her from the shoulders up, but it was clear that it was a drawing of Aspenleaf.

The most noticeable thing about the picture, though, was that the girl on the page was surrounded by a heart. Aspenleaf hurried away, pretending she hadn’t seen.