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The summer sun has just risen on the kingdom of Duren when Rayla steps outside. There is a thin layer of fog over the sloping grain fields, a last reminder of the cool night before the heat settles over the land again. Rayla takes a deep breath, enjoying the cool air of the morning as the sun’s rays hit her face. Then she turns her back to the sun and walks over the path along the field, towards the forest.
The moon berries aren’t hard to find. They grow in abundance in the height of summer and the soil in Duren is soft and pliable, perfect for growing a whole array of fruits and vegetables. Rayla pulls the bag that’s slung over her shoulder so that the main compartment is hanging over her belly, and starts picking the berries. Once the bush is about half empty, Rayla spots a small tree with sun peaches, growing in a clearing that’s visible through the bushes. With a grin, she makes her way to the field, that’s overgrown with tall grass and a colorful array of white, yellow and purple flowers. Runaan loves sun peaches. Not wasting any more time, she starts picking the ripe ones from the tree and puts them in the bag, alongside the moon berries.
A twig snaps somewhere behind her. Rayla has always been perceptive and this forest is her home, so she knows this isn’t the tread of a deer, or a brown fox. With no hesitation to her movements, Rayla picks the peach her hand had been hovering over, drops it in her bag and turns around.
She’s pale. Her hair is long and black, partly in braids, and turning a vibrant purple where it curls at the tips. There are markings on her face, around her eyes, and if the dark horns or the pointy ears adorned with rings hadn’t been enough of an indication, they confirm Rayla’s fear. This girl that’s standing in the shade, hidden behind some bushes and thin pine trees, is an elf. And she’s looking right at her.
For a moment, Rayla isn’t sure of what to do. She isn’t a trained fighter, but she’s scrappy and fast on her feet. Thoughts of either attacking or escaping run through her mind, but then the elf speaks up.
“Uh, sorry!” she says, holding up both hands—four fingers on each, Rayla counts—and wearing an apologetic grimace. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“Stay back,” Rayla demands, holding out her arms in front of her body in what she hopes resembles a fighting stance.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” the elf says as she slowly approaches through the bush. Rayla cautiously takes a step back for every one she takes towards her. When the elf notices what she’s doing, she just sighs and slumps her shoulders defeatedly. “I just wanted some sun peaches. But I get it, I’ll come back some other time.” With that, she turns around and skulks away, back into the forest.
“Wait.” Rayla doesn’t know what compels her to say it. Maybe it’s that she’d never seen an elf in the flesh before, or the fact that the elf in front of her seems not at all like the bloodthirsty killers they are in the stories. She actually seems a lot like herself, Rayla supposes, as she watches the tall girl turn around and regard her with a mixture of surprise and hope. “You can have some,” she tells her. “These trees don’t belong to anybody.” The elf grins gratefully and turns back around to the clearing, walking up to the peach tree with determined strides. This time, Rayla stays were she is.
She watches as the elf picks two sun peaches, sits down at the base of the tree as she takes a bite of one and sets the other on the ground in front of her. The elf sets the other peach down next to her and raises both hands over the sun peach across from her. A soft chant in a language Rayla has never heard before flows from the elf’s lips. She watches in fascination as the peach begins to glow as if it, true to its name, contains a miniature sun beneath the fuzzy skin. The elf squeals softly and waves her hand over the peach again, effectively breaking the spell. The light vanishes and with a soft thud, the sun peach falls onto the grass.
Rayla forgets that this is someone she’s supposed to be scared of—fascinated by the magic just performed under her eyes, she plops down onto the ground next to the elf. “How did you do that?” she asks. The elf looks at her with vibrant green eyes widened in surprise.
“What, lightening up the peach?” She chuckles shortly. “With magic, of course. I’m an elf, remember?”
“So every elf can do that?” Rayla asks, curiously.
“Some, I’m sure,” the elf answers. “But we Earthblood Elves are particularly good at using the magic in the earth, and that which grows on it.”
“Oh,” Rayla replies. It’s not exactly eloquent, but she’s distracted by how both the sun peach and the elf’s pale skin, that both seem to glow in the sunlight that falls unburdened on them in the clearing. “What’s your name?” She isn’t sure why she asks that. Elves and humans are sworn enemies, but somehow sitting next to this elf girl in front of the sun peach tree, in the morning sun, it feels like they’re friends. The girl next to her smiles, scrunching up the markings next to her eyes as they narrow. Rayla smiles back. It doesn’t feel bad at all.
“I’m Claudia,” the elf says, before taking another bite from her peach. She offers Rayla the one that had just lit up, and somewhat hesitantly, she takes it.
“Thanks,” she says. “I’m Rayla.”