Hunting for Canola

Hunting for Canola (Tentative Chapter title.)

Was it the cosmic designs deigned by the Mothers and Fathers, who nonchalantly curled and airted Seline’s destiny, or just some small part of the fates? Had Seline not discovered her ability to time travel, she may still have sought out Canola but to a much slower pace.

It was the age 950 on the 26^th day of Morla, exactly fifty-three seasons after Seline had started planning for her quest that Seline now sat under the leaves of a blue maple, a rough foehn blowing, flaying the skin from her muscles. Peeking out she watched for wood elves, hoping that somewhere in their minds they would have the sense to stay in their tree houses.

Shadows ran together, he watched. Turquoise eyes, shielded with violet lashes gazed at her. He knew her for what she was. An Iyil Sen Faery and young at that, searching his memory, his eyes wondered left a little. Not enough to loose sight of her huddled under the blue maple. ‘How silly of her.’ he thought, as he realized she was dressed inappropriately for these parts of the forest.

However, he was not the only watcher. Another wood elve watched, from above. He had been tracking the old one. It was his intent to kill the elder; it had been his intent from just before the end of the Faerie wars. Now there was the female faery and his memory was not that vague. ‘I might as well watch her and use her to achieve my goal.’ contemporaneously he thought. ‘Barak knows, with Quont’s luck I might get a little taste as well.’ He rubbed his hand over his nipples as he watched her stand from her crouch and walk out from under the blue maple.

‘Here I go.’ Seline thought as she squared her shoulders, trying to make herself appear taller and more muscular than she was. Stepping into the frigid wind, Seline moved down the track. Jahannan lit her way as she started to move to the furthest edges of the Iyil Sen forest and away from her family and friends.

As she moved, his memory flared. With a slight shake of his head, he followed. He’d heard the tale of this young faery. ‘What is she doing? She is not lost, she walks with purpose.’ A slow smile crept across his face, as he realized. ‘Aahh, this young one is leaving the trees. If she did not want to be caught she would have flown.’ He lowered his eyes, as memories of flight tripped through his mind.

In her haste to leave Iyil Sen forest, Seline had forgotten to grab her warmest cloak. It was her favourite and had she taken it from the peg at the door, she’d not be suffering now. Nevertheless, with her travelling from the variegated carvings of the mystical Canola, she had left it behind. That and the fact that Libris Slingrock had tried in vain to get Seline to accompany her to the district of the youthful music and dance, it was the time of Canola’s festival and Seline, sure as the Mothers wanted to attend. However, she knew it was also going to be the only night that she’d have a chance to leave her home forest and start of on her quest.

Wishing and hoping for her cloak, Seline reached into her pack. Pulling out a roll of parchments, she fumbled with the folding, trying to make a quick journal to keep a track of her quest. She then pulled her shortened quill from behind her moody dream blue bodice, penning her first thoughts on her travels.

According to folk lore where there is lavender, there are faeries. So where did Mother Canola hide? Surely not in the most obvious of places, a Lavender farm in Ooloo! It just can’t be so; it’s widely known that one of Lavender’s many uses is to assist with sleep. It calms the senses, and is connected with love. No, I think not! I believe that Canola is hiding in plain sight of Quont.

Her fiery titan red hair played across her sapphire eyes and whipped up around her ears as a small pampero breeze scudded down the forest track.

Seline found traveling along the track interesting. She could have taken to the skies, but the risk of an elder spotting her was far too great. Therefore, she took to the darkened paths and kept out of sight as often as she could.

The two watchers, one above and one below, travelled with her step for step. Taranh Trueshot on the ground, was vaguely aware that his pursuer was somewhere around. He’d not seen him for some hours and he was concerned, not for himself, but for the young Faery.

In the branches of the blue maples, Donan Snarlbane moved at a leisurely pace. ‘Son of Halfling Faery, he has dropped his guard.’ Donan’s eyes lit with joy. ‘A chance is at hand.’ However, his training stopped him from reacting to an open opportunity. ‘No, no, he’s being watchful. He’s concern of me has not diminished, it’s the female.’ Donan’s droopy yellow eyes squinted as his tormented mind invented scenarios. ‘He wants her for himself!, No, he was a father of Faery females. Is it a daughter? Oh that would be a lot more sporting.’

It was picturesque this part of the forest. Even with the Faerie wars, it had maintained its visual appeal. From Iyil Sen, Seline turned north, away from the coast and towards the natural beauty of Ooloo mountain range. Seline knew the tales that a beautiful village was on the edge of the mountain range. However first, she had to make her way through the cascading waterfalls, of Spectral Falls, all she had to do was follow the trail joining the forest to the village, Gasping Falls, and she would be at the falls in no time. Nevertheless, for now she explored the bushland and discovered the diverse wildlife of the region and a wide variety of birds. Her eyes and ears were awed with all she came across.

Gazing skywards, she saw the unmistakable shapes of the rop raeb. Their dark blue furred bodies, blending into the canopy. They were sleeping, so Seline was assured that they would not come out of the branches to greet her as they did back home. Thoughts of home, made her look over her shoulder. ‘No I cannot return. It will be dark in a few hours and I’ll need to reach the furthest edges of Iyil Sen by dark.’

There was something beautiful and momentous about this place, a wild frontier, graceful, Spider trees were in their ease here, the lack of constraint touched at Seline’s imaginations. Great arboron trees, favoured by the dark wood elves, majestically spread their broad bases and limbs far and wide. They were known as the tree top highway, Seline knew better than to travel those paths. It was a setting out of the history of Mernac, and not something that she would have witnessed had she an ordinary life. Green mountain peeks on the horizon, aroused nostalgic images of freedom. Seline liked the sombre peace of it, no heat, just silence. Knowing she could just sit on the lichen ground all day in a trance like state. It was a feeling that travelled through her as would a misted path, it was compelling, and she wanted to give it all of her attention. Nevertheless, the logical side screamed “Danger!”

Taranh stepped out from behind an elder arboron tree; he’d been watching the faery for some time. But it was a movement in the upper branches that made him move.

“Peace.” He spoke clearly, “I am Taranh Trueshot, you and I are being hunted.” His eyes gestured to the heavens, as he held out his hand. “I mean you no harm.”