Starlight of a Moonbeam

Opposites Attract - Age 14 (Elena POV)

AN:
Here's a bit more of Almuru and Elena
I hope you guys like it!

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"Ruru it's not your fault."

"Of course it is! It's always my fault!"

"You and I both know that's not true!"

We've been out here for at least four hours now. Out in the whispering range that guards the lands of Orynth. One look at the pained expression, no different than a wounded animal, on the face of my feline friend, was all it took for us to shift and race out into the open air and away from whatever was troubling him.

I guess you could say it's become our coping mechanism: running through the evergreen forests of Terrasen until speed and will wear out. Currently, we're atop a cliff on one of the mountains closer to Allsbrook, bathing in the calming sun and letting the heat from the rocky ledge beneath us seep into our hearts, as our now fae skin does less to protect us from the unforgiving winds as does our furred animal coats.

"You know he has a short temper. I'm sure he didn't mean it." I push again. Almuru, like me, has a tendency to beat himself up about the opinion of others in regard to our court and in particular: our parents.

"You didn't see the look in his eyes." He sighs and looks away from me and the setting sun, back toward the growing night and the castle far in the east. The castle where the host of those eyes awaits for his only son.

Though I might get into quarrels with my parents on occasion (particularly my father) regarding my image and responsibilities as princess and heir, Almuru has a good deal more arguments with his father on a semi-regular basis about any number of things, but in particular his unusual uninterest for battles, killing, and death. Oh, I don't mean to say that he's scared of it, or so "fragile hearted" that he won't kill and hunt, but when it comes to training he's nothing like the rest of us.

Whatever brutality and ruthlessness were pasted to Almuru from my Uncle Lorcan was dominated by the gifts passed to him from my Aunt Elide. It was actually quite a puzzle when the discovery of his powers first occurred. His gifts were nothing like his fathers and witch blood couldn't be passed to a male, so the whole thing was rather troubling at first but quickly ignored and normalized.

While Almuru's magic may at times seem tempered and black as death, slumbering rage and ice of the coldest night was what really prowled beneath his skin. Frozen power. That was what he was. And while Lorcan and my other uncles, might try to melt that impenetrable frost and release that power, it was my Aunt Elide and Witch aunts who saw him for what he truly is and possess:

Witch power, it seemed, could be passed down to the male line, could be held and stored in their blood until passed to a female in the line who may or may not be able to regain access to that magic. However, since Almuru also posses magic from his father as well as fae gifts, Almuru is fully capable of not only sensing his maternal powers but has welcomed them as they mix with his fathers, creating and gifting him a new sort of power.

Though at the first glance to any magic-user it may seem that Almuru is merely fae with his increased: speed, healing, hearing, scenting, and strength as well as shielding, and his dark ice, to know him is to know his other layer of power.

Frozen over. That's what aunt Manon had said, that his powers were frozen over but alive since mixed with his fae gifts. So he trains, and he fights, but he never will use the full extent of his powers, to the dismay of those around him who push against those little facts.

"He wants me to be fae. He wants me to be like him." Almuru says in a voice of shame and pain, one that I've only rarely heard him use. The wind is blowing quite strong for us now as to lead us away from the unforgiving edge. The whipping breeze of a lash is strong enough to make our eyes water, but I know that's not the reason his eyes are now lined with silver.