Moonstone and Magic

The next day, Akira, Elara, and Liora trekked toward the river cliffs, where moonstone dust waited. The air was cool, smelling of water and wet rocks. Kael, the archer, joined them, his bow slung over his shoulder. “I’ll keep you safe,” he said. “Cliffs can be slippery.”

“Thanks, Kael,” Akira said. “We’re lucky to have you.”

The path wound along the glowing river, its algae sparkling. Back in Greenwood, villagers were weaving a cottage for Akira’s mom, using vines and oak branches. Miren had told him yesterday, her dad helping with the roof. The thought made Akira smile—his mom would have a home here.

At the cliffs, tall stones jutted out, their surfaces shimmering with moonstone. Kael climbed up, quick and careful, scraping dust into a jar. “This stuff’s magic,” he called. “It glows under the moons.”

Elara practiced her druidic spell nearby, her hands glowing as she chanted. She was getting ready for the ritual, but her face looked tired. Akira knelt beside her. “You okay?” he asked.

“It’s hard,” she said, catching her breath. “The ritual needs strong magic to open the door for you and your mom. It might tire me out, maybe for days.”

Akira’s heart sank. “You don’t have to do this, Elara.”

She shook her head, her eyes fierce. “I want to. Your mom belongs here with us. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

He took her hand, feeling her warmth. “You’re amazing. Mom’s gonna love you.”

Elara smiled. “I hope so. We’ll make her part of our home—her own cottage, fields to grow things.”

Akira pictured his mom planting with Elara, her hands in the soil. “She’s strong,” he said. “She kept our farm going alone. She’ll learn elven ways, maybe teach us some human tricks.”

“Like what?” Liora asked, joining them with Kael, the jar of moonstone dust full.

“Like drying apples for winter,” Akira said. “Or making compost heaps.”

Liora grinned. “I’m stealing those ideas for the village.”

Kael handed the jar to Elara, who sealed it with a spell. “Two down,” he said. “Just the heartwood crystal left.”

They camped by the river, the cliffs glowing faintly. Elara leaned against Akira, her voice soft. “Your mom’s gonna love this river. It’s magic, like her.”

He kissed her forehead. “With you helping her, she’ll feel right at home.”

As stars twinkled above, Akira felt the village’s trust and Elara’s love holding him up. One more step and his mom would be here, safe in Greenwood.