A Glimpse of the Bowsinger

In the village after the attack on her home, Aralyn (the heroine) trades with the herbalist, Lot'fe. Elves ride in, and Aralyn finds herself enthralled.

Outside the stomp of horse hooves in the dirt caught Aralyn's attention. She moved to the door, and her eyes widened. A long line of horses paraded down the street carrying riders dressed in colors ranging from forest green to powdery pink. Their cloaks shimmered in the late morning sun as did their golden hair—golden like her own—but she also saw heads of gray, brown, and fiery red.

Elves! They were here in Sathria.

Many carried knives and swords, and yes, there were archers among them. Their longbows laid across laps. She would love to get a closer look at these Elves and their weapons.

Pack animals and wagons carried water skins, food, and other staples. Others carried silks and brightly colored materials. Had they come here to trade their goods?

By their pale complexions, silver-flecked eyes, and long hair of varying color, she knew these were Elves from Eyndor. Where were these Elves going? And why were they traveling through Sathria?

“They are fascinating.” Lot’fe stood next to her.

Aralyn didn’t take her gaze from the Elves. “Oh. Yes, they are.”

As they disappeared up the street, Aralyn swung back to Lot’fe. She bowed her head to the herbalist. “I must go. I’m curious as to why they are here.”

“Yes, I would like to know too.” Lot’fe patted Aralyn’s arm. “Go, little one.”

At Lot’fe’s dismissal, she jogged to catch up and noticed the very air felt different.

Home.

That one word came to mind. Something about the Elves made her long for home. As though home was a forgotten place and something she needed as much as food.