Sophie Green's Bequest

Part 1 of 2 Single parent children wonder about their other absent parent, but Sophie Green never could have imagined the truth of her father

Sophie Green’s Bequest  

 

Sophie artistically brushed a russet flourish to her pristine meadow and majestic forest watercolor painting. Art class was her favorite, especially with Mr. Nifle teaching. He could bring art to life and had a way with the class, but in his unexplained absence, these days wound up worse than others did, and doubly worse like today for instance. Sophie felt blue with her best friend away with no plans to speak of for spring break beginning tomorrow.

“You have real talent, Sophie,” her substitute art class teacher said in a gentle voice. “Become one with your scene�"add a bit of depth to your focal line, here.” He swept a fingertip on the forest’s edge. “Art lets you put your essence and beliefs on display�"all you have to do is to engage and apply yourself whole�"exceptional results will always come forth.”

“That’s the same thing Mr. Nifle tells me,” Sophie said glumly without looking away from her work. “I miss him, when will he return to class?”

“Haven’t heard.” The teacher looked away and raised his voice, “People! Clean up�"three minutes to the bell.”

Sophie barely got her things together before the bell rang; she glanced about and merged with the rest of her art class into the hall of milling teens. Sophie Green hated the uncontrolled atmosphere in-between classes: The whole crush of students, the stupid social positioning, and the oft times near-chaos of it, and besides, she ached from the almost constant hallway taunts despite her conscious efforts to ignore them. Some days, Sophie just wished…

Girls Sophie’s age are notorious for being craftily hurtful to one another, but the boys’ cruel jeers stung brutally today. As Sophie passed by a group of boys, ringleader Jared picked her out and spoke up.

 “Don’t hook up with Sophie on spring break; she’ll poke you with her sharp nose�"and that pointy chin!” The boys grabbed their crotches and went from theatrical groaning to uncontrollable laughing. Sophie pulled her long, brilliant red hair over her shoulder like a bandolier and strolled away, ignoring the laughing boy mayhem. One boy inexplicably swung around and kneed Jared in the crotch. Jared sank to the floor, groaning for real. A slight, guarded smile flickered across Sophie’s remarkable face. 

“Why so smug Sophie Green�"you causing trouble?” Heads turned to the loud, booming voice sounding above the hallway din. The tall, imposing figure of Principal Liveos walked up to her from the side hallway. His striped gray-black flat-top haircut was a beacon of authority and loathing among the students.  

“Ah, the boys�"” Sophie stopped when she saw the principal’s odd expression staring back at her. “Nothing going on all.” Jared’s groaning was still audible behind them.  

“I see your minder isn’t with you today,” said Principle Liveos. “A falling out?”

“No, course not�"got to go,” Sophie strolled away into the crowd eager to get away but glanced back and saw the principal watch her go�"standing there, a rock diverting the river of flowing students

Later, while finishing up her school day, Sophie pondered her next two weeks and already lonely, Sophie had nothing to look forward to this spring break�"a blank slate. Her best friend Jessica had left yesterday for the coast with her parents, leaving Sophie without camaraderie and feeling especially vulnerable. Before leaving, Jessica asked her mother if Sophie could go along with them�"Sophie knew that it would amount to only tagging behind after that look Jessica’s mother glared�"that look Sophie unfortunately caught. The same type of look she got from her classmates as they sauntered by at school, the looks on faces she got just walking down the street.

Although Margery, Sophie’s mother, was her steadfast and staunchest ally, Margery worked long hours now (spring break was an especially busy time for a gardening consultant), and it just seemed worse for Sophie without her mother’s endearing words of support. Some days after too many looks, Sophie needed a few encouraging motherly words like after hurtful, lonely today unfolding much worse than some other days.

 

***

            In their quiet old house, Sophie glided down the hall past the gilded oval mirror. Her flowing ruby hair, a hereditary trait from her mother, caught her eye, but then as always she stopped and double-took, drawing in to study her face�"not her mother’s face�"her face that drew the looks. Her heart-shaped face, sharp nose, pointed chin, almond-shaped, blue-silver eyes, and her ears�"she always made sure they were well-covered. As a child, others’ reactions over her appearance were at first shocked surprise, but soon became cooing delights because Sophie was such a remarkably charming infant with enchanting features�"“pixie-like” people called her more often than not. Trouble though, those features never softened nor filled in for her to appear like a ‘normal teenager’ or ‘young adult’ as she yearned because her features remained like a pixie.

Sophie cried to her mother over and over. “I’m the most awfully strange looking thirteen year-old anywhere” and went as far as asking for plastic surgery. Her mother’s soothing words would magically suppress Sophie’s distress and divert her absorption from her extraordinary appearance. The only things Sophie admired about herself were her frail, skinny figure, and her music. Often with her upset peaking, Sophie immersed herself in the music that gladdened her spirit, diverted her attention, and somehow made her feel less alone.

Sophie dipped her head to break her mirror stare-down and pulled her long, brilliant hair over her shoulder�"one tress was tangled within itself hanging free and separate like a dreadlock. Walking silently down the thread-worn hallway carpet, she fought her fingers through her hair to unsnaggle the strands; she mumbled how this annoying circumstance was occurring much too often.

At the back of the house opposite the kitchen, a make-do music room was that�"and the sewing room, laundry room, and storage room�"quite cluttered at that, but her wooden flute-box remained on her portable music stand’s shelf. It was the only thing that remained sacred in this room�"a neat untouched island in a sea of clutter. She immediately saw the exception today: Several pages of dog-eared sheet music curled over forward, shading her flute box.

Sophie picked up the flute box and disturbed the pages of music; they fluttered to the floor. She picked them up in a clutch and laid them on the sewing table, but one page’s corner stood out singular, music inscribed on old, yellowed and wrinkled paper. Not remembering such a page, she slipped it out. It was hand-scribed music in fine calligraphy�"Sophie thought it done in fountain ink by a steady, practiced hand with razor fine, hard line, and heavy, black accented notes. The title in grand flourishes read: “Dance for a Fine Wee Dawn.” This wasn’t here before she thought, maybe her mother had found it and placed it here; Margery often came up with strangely odd objects like Sophie’s hand-carved flute and box�"like none anyone had ever seen.

            She set the page down on the sewing table to get started on her music. She flipped open the mossy-lined box and picked up the primitive wooden flute. A most familiar object in her hands, her fingers perched instantly across the flute’s top to seal the eight holes, and lifted it to her lips. She stopped�"the flute didn’t feel right under her thumbs. Turning it over, she saw there were four new holes precisely drilled into the underside. Her eyes welling, Sophie wondered who had tempered with her precious gift. Had her mother done something to it? Her music teacher never said nor inferred more than the customary eight flute fingerlings. First the unusual sheet music and now this damage?

Sophie alternately eyed the music and the flute. She picked up the “Dance…” sheet music and put it on her stand; she studied it a few moments. Most of the notes were her accustomed notes and learnt musical chords, but there were many unfamiliar notes and different variations to this music. Covering the four holes underneath with her thumbs, she went through a few warm-up scales and short tunes she knew by heart. With the holes closed tightly the flute sounded unaffected. The music on the page stared at her as she played another song by rote�"note perfect. Sophie stopped; she breathed in easily and began to play the new sheet music, but at the unfamiliar notes, she stumbled or just played on, trying to keep time in the happy playful measure.

            A movement in the room’s corner caught her vision’s edge; annoying, like a smudge on your glasses. Stopping play, she looked directly into the corner, but nothing was there. Picking up where she left off, she played a few notes but immediately caught sight of something there again, a quick movement dancing about near the corner. Sophie took the step, bent over and looked closer, her hair flipping down about her face toward the floor. A lock pulled taut and instantly tangled.

“Ow!” Sophie cried in reaction, standing up and back in one swift movement.

            “Watch where you’re putting that big face of yours!” A gruff little voice came from the corner.

            “Wha-what? Who-who are you?”  Sophie said looking about in the corner and under the nearby table.

            “What are you? An owl, pretty one?”

            “Ah, no.” Sophie drew out while searching about. She chuckled. “Is that you Jessica? What a joke�"some kind of cell phone or something?”

            “Cell phone? Electronic gadgets are your race’s downfall�"get back to ‘yor roots, pretty girl-child.”

            “Whatever do you mean? Whoever you are, leave me alone or I’m calling 9-1-1.”

            “They wouldn’t find anything; you know it, look around yourself!” The voice said with a snicker.

            “Well,” Sophie said, backing for the door. “Tell me where you are.” She stopped. “Oh, come on, it’s just a joke.”

            “Convincing yourself won’t alter my existence here, but something else would. Let’s see how much gumption you have dear one. Play the new music�"I feel like dancing.”

            “No�"I’m not that good nor familiar with the changes. Besides, why should I?”

            “Pooh,” the voice made the sound long and dawn out. “You’re better than you think. If I determine you’re trying ‘ard enough I’ll show myself.”

            “Fine. FINE! Little secret voice, I’ll�".”

            “Just play without thinking�"play!” The voice said impatiently.   

            Sophie put the flute to her lips, took a deep breath, but she immediately pulled the flute away. She let the breath go in a sigh; she studied the sheet music. “Okay.” She whispered. Taking a breath, she began to play but flubbed the third note. “Crapola�"easy stuff is hard under pressure,” She looked toward the corner.

            “Sure is�"you must focus to succeed,” said the voice.

            Sophie began again and carried all the familiar notes perfectly. She slowed and skipped some unknown notes but continued on. At the middle of the second stanza, she thought of skipping a series of unfamiliar notes, but her thumbs curiously pivoted to open holes, and her fingers flickered on the upper holes�"a beautifully novel melody fell into place. Sophie’s head rushed and her face flushed; she felt like warm water flowed over her from scalp to feet. She continued on and the next special notes formed from under thumbs and fingers�"she glowed. The notes fell easily into place like she had done these before, bridging the gap with timbres of most beautiful, enchanting quality. Getting to the bottom of the page, she found she had played several unfamiliar notes and harmonies; she tingled�"marveling at her previously unperceived competence.

            “Most outstanding effort, child! I’m dancing now and are willing to show myself to you, if you are ready.”

            “Thank you; please show yourself.”

            “Right before you�"just watch.” There on her music stand, a small bearded man materialized wiggling about with hands on his hips wearing a crooked pointed hat, white puffy shirt, and suspendered shorts.

            “Oh, my God! An elf!” Sophie thought she was going to pass out, bracing herself on a chair.

            “You of all people shouldn’t be surprised.”

            “What do you mean by that?” Sophie said, standing up.

            “Never mind for now,” the little man snapped.

            “So Mr. Elf,” Sophie said stepping back a little and aside�"afraid to look at him directly. “Why are you here in my�"my music room?”

            “First off, stop calling me elf. Second, I’m here often�"a lot. You are a very appealing subject who cannot guess what I’m going to reveal. Third and related, I’m here on a mission of import.”

            “Ooohhhh�"an important Elfin mission,” Sophie emphasized sarcastically. “Must be a huge mission�"making cookies?” She chuckled with a hand to her mouth, but then checked her laugh. “So you aren’t an elf?”

            “Technically, your er my line runs back to the old country, but all of us so-called elves, sprites, pixies, imps, fairies, nobs, gnomes, and so on�"we’re basically all from common descendants: Interchangeable, different sizes, different powers, different nationalities�"though some us are superior to others like me: A kobold.”

            “The first elf I meet, and he’s bigoted,” Sophie shook her head and raised her eyes.

            “Don’t call me an elf. Our clan, over time has taken the name Elttil.” He shook a stubby finger to make a point. “But�"BUT! You and I’ve met before when you were a babe in arms.”

“No! Ah, I don’t remember such a meeting.” Sophie dropped her eyes. “Everyone is exposed to elves with the stories, the cartoons, and the movies anyway�"you know?”

            “Oh, sure, the Grimm brothers that Walt Disney fella. We wanted some PR�"well, they didn’t do us much favor�"Tinkerbell indeed. Pah!”

            “For a little, ah�"Elttil, you do have an attitude.”

            “Please�"Bogdale.” He bowed. “After over two hundred years of watching humans overlook us and spoiling so many perfect realms you’d have the same attitude!”

            “I think I know what you mean, Bogdale.”

            “Course you do, for your mother brought you up right.”

            Sophie gasped with a hand to her mouth as realization sank in.

            “Aaaahhhaaa, I see it in your eyes.” Bogdale bent over toward her, squinted and grinned widely. “I, ah we keep tabs on you and your mother�"rather close, actually.”

            “I remember her telling stories of elves and fairies, different personable tales of how brave and thoughtful and helpful to man and beast they�"you are, but only when I was a child, not lately�"not anything to prepare me for, for you standing here in front of me�"it’s like a dream.” Sophie said, sitting down and pointing.

            “No dream, I assure you and time’s wasting.” Bogdale twirled toward the door. “Oh, oh. I’ve been dilly-dallying around and not directly stating my purpose. Now we have company.” He pointed past Sophie.

Sophie turned and gasped. There were three pairs of Elttils standing in the doorway with arms folded across their diminutive chests looking impatient. “Get on with it Bogdale,” said the little lady Elttil in bright blue. Suddenly, just as unexpectedly as the Elttils’ arrival, a shadow fell on the carpeting behind them; the six at the door turned toward the movement.

Bogdale, absorbed in his message didn’t seem to notice and continued for his new audience, “The vital underlying fact about you and us�"”

“Don’t you dare say it Bogdale Bluestone!”  Sophie’s mother’s stern voice came from the hallway. The three pairs scampered aside and lined up, and when Margery stood in the doorway, they bowed or curtsied reverentially.

““Mother, you’re home! Can you believe them? Wait�"what did you say?” Sophie stared at the Elttils. “And ah, why are they doing that?” Sophie pointed in mounting shock. 

Madam Green Ashford Clanmother, how impressive, you maintain your stealthy artifice. We didn’t hear your entry and approach.”  One of the Elttils announced.

Margery gently bowed her head releasing them from their respectful postures. “I sensed something transpiring here and thought stealth appropriate. Some abilities remain natural to me, but I am, as you all know so well, no longer clanmother” She pointed at Bogdale, “and what orders did I leave with YOU about bothering my daughter?”

“Mother?” Sophie questioned.  Margery stepped past the Elttils to her daughter.

“Er Madam, madam’s impeccably beautiful daughter.” Bogdale bowed to them both suddenly becoming subservient and straightforward. “Pardon the intrusion�"only under guidance directly from Scarland Green-Ashford Clanfather do we attend your fair daughter’s presence and expose our existence to her.”   

“Scarland? How’s that possible�"I believed he was, was gone, that’s what I was told so long ago.” Tears squeezed from Margery’s eyes. “From you Master Bluestone!”  

“You know these things happen. You should have seen it coming and afterwards sensed the truth�"you are that perceptive, madam. Scarland, er Clanfather Green Ashford was ordered away from you and his daughter�"his alleged disarticulation by the hegemony had it done quickly and cleanly,” added the lady in pink.

“Mother�"Mother, please explain,” Sophie pleaded. 

Margery sat down on the floor and the visitors crowded close to her�"she sobbed. “Yes, deep down I suspected, and I searched for the truth, but they buried the truth too deep for a mere human�"I’m sorry Sophie,” she whispered, turning to Sophie. “I shielded you from the facts: Your father was indeed Clanfather of Green Ashford.”

“Father was one of them?” Sophie pointed, asking incredulously. “How is that even possible�"you told me father left and�"not an ELF?”      

“I told you the most feasible lie I could. It hurt me to do it, believe me�"there is so much I didn’t tell you about his people.” Margery wiped her cheek. “So much more, I know believing is hard�"”

Bogdale’s attention diverted to closely admire Sophie’s features, “My Grand Clanmother�"I couldn’t but notice your daughter is becoming a very fine looking woman-child�"very fine indeed, AND she plays Vergeflute superbly.” He got droopy eyed with a dreamy look, leaning over in Sophie’s direction.

“Don’t get any ideas, Master Bluestone! Back off.” Margery said, with Sophie also backing away.

            The lady in pink stepped between them. “If I may say, you must be exceedingly proud for I agree with Bogdale that young Sophie is very handsome indeed�"for a half-human child. But Madam, back to the matter at hand, I’m sorry it happened this way, but there’s no time as Bogdale began to say�"a potential rift in the Vergeplane will destroy us all�"man and Elttil.”

            “Why didn’t Scarland come here himself?” Margery demanded with a severely even voice. She turned to the blonde lady Elttil in blue. “Honey Brickle�"I can trust you�"tell me.”

            Honey cast her eyes downward, “Madam speaks persuasively and I obey�"as always. Clanfather has been taken; he sent word by mellotron.”

            Margery bowed her head and sobbed. Sophie kneeled behind her mother and wrapped her arms around her neck. “Mother what does this mean?”

            “Losing him again is more than I can bear.” She straightened and looked over at them. “Dryad or hobgoblin?”

            “Oh, I’m so sorry!” Honey said, tearing up. Bogdale cleared his throat and cast a furrowed brow her way. Honey held a palm toward him to stop; she stood up tall�"all eight inches or so. “It pains me to say madam�"neither, for it is a lowly but nefarious human�"with gargoyles doing his bidding. A certain man called Doctor DeVarped.”

            “How is that possible? Never before has a human had that sort of power, but wait, I understand that you were planning to take my daughter for this purpose without my knowledge. Is that correct?”

            “Take me?” Sophie raised a concerned voice to her mother.

All seven answered, “Yes, madam.”        

            “You’d better tell me why you didn’t consult me.”

            “Time, time is of the essence.” Bogdale said, putting out his hands. “And truthfully�"you needn’t be involved.”

            “I NEEDN”T BE INVOLVED? MY DAUGHTER TAKEN WITHOUT MY KNOWLEDGE?” Margery broadcasted a Verge-Voice that rattled the pictures on the wall and caused the small ladies and men to twitch and drop to their knees. Bogdale put his hands up to cover his ears. Sophie pulled away from her mother with wide eyes, but Margery gently touched Sophie’s arm and coaxed her close.

“You know the answer, madam.” The formerly silent man gathered his composure and spoke calmly. Margery sadly nodded her head. “Yes, Glenn Hhaze, I know.” She toughened her composure but softened her voice. “The rare combination of human and Elfin blood�"especially from a clanfather’s kith and kin is the bridge humans sought to enter the Realm of Elttil, the Vergeambit, for centuries�"and after all this time it’ll ultimately be my fault�"my husband is a hostage and my daughter with no Vergeambit experience.”

 “Unfortunate truth but those facts determine our paths and must be traveled; your lovely daughter Sophie must be tutored and promptly�"Bogdale has a plan,” Honey said and added quietly. “We dearly trust Sophie’s talents come forth naturally�"if she is willing.”

**       **                                            **

Sophie alternated between pacing about to sitting alone with her hands bracing her head and covering her ears. Her mother, Margery tried to comfort Sophie with encouraging words of Elttil resourcefulness and steadfastness, and an unfolding narrative of her father, but Sophie flinched aside whenever Margery reached for her.

 Finally, Sophie pulled away and blurted, “How can you be so supportive of them�"him�"after leaving you alone�"with me? How can you be that way mother?”

“I know it’s hard for you. Maybe I should have explained to you from the beginning when I started, but in my own bewilderment and separation from that world I lost faith. Now maybe I found faith in the Elttils again with Scarland in trouble and hope you’ll both believe and forgive me, but we ask much of you.” Sophie didn’t reply, only looking up momentarily at Margery with red, teary eyes before clamping her hands on the sides of her head again.    

The small band of Elttils meanwhile prepared for Sophie’s assessment. They discussed what they knew about the DeVarped versus the powers that clanfather swayed.

Honey suggested, “DeVarped apparently has weak enchantment powers. Sophie must develop talents that differ from clanfather’s, so she may supplement him, and they may draw upon one another.”

Glenn Hhaze thought out loud, “We don’t have an option to select certain talents besides, I imagine father�"daughter talents are similar.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” inserted Bogdale. “Consider clanmother’s talent�"impressive for pure-human, perhaps the daughter needs no guidance.”

“Hush, Bogdale!” Honey said. “Let her go unprepared? Sure suicide.”

The diminutive band quickly ended their discussion knowing that they must hurry in the preparation and carrying out clanfather’s rescue. They knew he was held in a Vergefield keeping him suspended and visible at all times. Perhaps the key to rescue lay on breaking the field down; he could reestablish invisibility and make an escape, but no specifics were known of the field. Doctor DeVarped threatened to extinguish clanfather within the Vergerambit breaking the barrier-plane betwixt two realms if Sophie didn’t come forth within 24 hours�"now 19 hours.

Margery picked up pieces of their discussion. “So why haven’t the Elttil pugilists attempted rescues?”

“They have�"and we lost nine. No word, no trace as promised by DeVarped.”

Margery was visibly taken aback and asked the inevitable rhetorical question, “then why should Sophie even be considered for this venture?”

Bogdale leaned forward and quietly, “Part of Clanfather’s message was not meant to reach Madam’s or daughter’s ears�"this evil doctor warned that no person or Elttil except clanfather’s daughter would be allowed approach to the lair and survive.”  

The seven Elttils silently stared at Margery. She looked over at brooding Sophie and lowered her voice�"to Elttil furtive-speak quiet. “It’s not fair to her lacking a lifetime of Elttil background. I know you hope for her to become bait because it’s her this evil man desires, and perhaps she can at the same time rescue�"”

“Why whisper mother?” Sophie said in furtive-speak. “I can hear every single word you’re saying.”

For a split-second, the group stared shell-shocked. Slowly, grim grins widened on the faces of the Elttils. Honey Brickle spoke first, “My godmother of the bloomin’ trees! Sophie has notable talent unrealized!”

“What do you mean Honey?” Sophie asked. “Your whispers are so loud I could hear you in the other room�"you’re practically shouting.”

“No, it isn’t so, Sophie dear,” Margery said. “No human sitting next to us could have heard us. I was carefully trained to hear and speak furtively�"you never were, and yet we bear witness to your ability.”

“Really? I have�"I am special?” Sophie stood up, pulling back her hair to expose her elongated, sharp-tipped ears; she stroked her sleek cheek, nose and chin. “So many unexplained things occur to and around me. I didn’t tell anyone�"things inexplicable until now.” She took a deep breath, “I accept what and who I am�"show me, teach me. I want to meet and rescue my father!”

** 

The Elttils sighed a deep breath of relief and took their task to heart. Margery helped her daughter wherever she could, but found she was out of practice on many skills so went off to practice on her own. The Elttils expressed amazement at some tasks Sophie showed aptitude in particular in sensory enhancement, but then became disheartened when Sophie seemed unable to realize other simple enchantment tasks. Sophie enjoyed and showed great aptitude in voice and hearing manipulation, such as Verge-voice, Furtive-speak, and Vibration-touch. Other crucial talents such as space manipulation completely boggled her as she watched her mother proudly shrink to half size�"still twice taller than the Elttils but only thigh-high to Sophie. The Elttils applauded Margery’s performance when she returned to normal size.

After Sophie got over her amazement, she said smugly, “Now that explains some unspeakable things.”

After a little coaching, Sophie concentrated deeply and the Elttils held their collective breaths while she attempted reduction, but she gave up quickly with a headache. Honey took her aside as Margery wrung her hands. With Honey demonstrating shrinking herself in size to palm-size; Sophie tried again and again but without result. Eventually, as a last effort Honey suggested trying specific-shrink�"Sophie finally could shrink her hand up to her wrist to half-size.

Quickly restoring her hand, Sophie rubbed her hands together, “Ow, that tingled! I think�"I know I can do this, but the doubt of restoring back to normal, ah regular size remains on my mind.”

“Probably that is the only obstacle holding you back,” Honey smiled, and then turned it off after facing the others.

“What’s the matter? Why the frown? I tried, I really tried.” Sophie said, distressed. Honey turned back without changing her sour expression. You knew or saw I was no longer smiling?”

“No, course not,” Sophie replied. “I felt�"I don’t know�"I don’t understand, but a sensation inside you changed.”

“Ah ha,” Glenn Hhaze said. “Females of the species seem to have a healthier gift to sense auras. You know what I’m talking about?”

“Yes, sure, but I thought people actually saw auras in colors.”

“A myth propagated by human movies and such,” Margery said. “It’s invisible to the perceiver, more a sense�"a feeling�"that you may relate to in colors of emotion.”

Sophie sat down at the table and sighed, “Yeah, I felt you change from a rosy-red to a blue�"like me now, I’m so tired. I want to learn the talents, but hearing or speaking beyond normal is worthless and father is out there somewhere without the time we need.” She slammed her hand down and began to sob quietly. Her tears beaded on her cheeks and a single teardrop fell to the table and bounced with a tick-tick-tick.

Honey gasped, “Oh, girl! You are more Elttil than you imagined�"look everyone! A crystal teardrop wept for a lost loved one! A sure sign of Elttil blood.” Margery wrapped her arms around her daughter and kissed her forehead.

“It’s all so very strange and, and I’m so confused over what I feel,” Sophie told her mother while touching the crystal tear.

Margery wiped back her own tear. “Don’t feel like you’re all alone when you look around here, now,” motioning at the Elttils gathering close. “You have a close kinship with these special people actually, closer than I.

Bogdale spoke up, “This is all touching an’ all, but we need to get a move on.”

“I don’t think Sophie should go.” Honey said, “She isn’t ready or capable.”

“Heartstrings tie you to her now�"causing you to resist the inevitable,” Bogdale said.

“No, Honey,” Sophie raised up. “I’m ready and going. Whether it ends up a failure or success or�"it’s me now and no one else, I have to go.” She swallowed and pulled her red hair across her shoulder, “Now�"” Sophie looked around, “someone has to show me where I’m to go.”

 

Reviews

[wondering]

so you have the story telling ability of the fantasy world. Its nice and likeable story, you should be writing young girls stories, woul dhave loved this when I was growing up.