Search

A Glimpse of the Bowsinger

After a brutal attack on her home, Aralyn must go to the nearby village of Sathria to trade with the herbalist. In this scene, the Elves arrive, 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. Many carried weapons of knives, swords, and yes, there were archers among them. Their longbows laid across laps. She would love to get a closer look at the 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.

0 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

The Girl with the Stars in her Eyes is available for preorder on Amazon Part of my journey as a writer is discovering other authors of speculative fiction. I hope you will consider this book by Dawn F

My writing journey began when I was about eight years old. At the time, I wrote short stories with titles like “The Mystery of the Hand without a Body” and “The Mystery of Pirate’s Island.” Rather lam