Chapter Seven #2
A breeze washed over me, ruffling my cape and tossing tendrils of my long red hair into the air. I stumbled around in confusion as the wind increased in both speed and power, engulfing me like a tornado. I let out a panicked shout, but Aria patted the toe of my boot and gave me a reassuring squeak.
I paused. Suddenly, the tornado of wind no longer felt wild or frightening. I held out my hand and extended my fingers, feeling the wind sweep through them like a rushing waterfall. It felt powerful. Beautiful.
Instead of curling in on myself and hiding from the wind, I embraced it.
I stood up tall and raised my chin, imagining the wind wasn’t a tornado but a simple autumn breeze.
I didn’t know why, but something about this felt natural.
As if the wind were calling to some long-forgotten magic hidden deep in my blood.
There was a sudden slapping sensation on my neck, like the wind had burned me, and everything died down as quickly as it began. The cottage felt eerily still with the wind gone, and I was left dumbfounded with a little mouse at my feet and a prickly feeling against my neck.
I lifted my fingertips to touch the skin just behind my ear. It felt different.
I needed a mirror.
The only one in the cottage was upstairs, attached to the vanity.
It was shattered like a spider’s web, barely held together by its frame, and the bedroom loft was still nearly pitch-black.
But I had my wolfish night vision, so I centered myself in front of a large, intact piece of the mirror and brushed my hair behind my back.
There was some sort of mark on my neck. It was dark, likely black in color, and too sharply defined to be a sore or bruise.
I tossed my thick red hair back over my neck and sighed. There was a mirror in the back kitchen of the café – I’d have to check the mark there tomorrow.
Tomorrow… wait. I paused, and the realization hit me. The café is closed tomorrow. I have the day off.
I peered around the dark cottage. Guess that will give me plenty of time to get this place fixed up.
“You’re welcome to stay here if you’d like,” I explained to Aria as I ventured back down the stairs to the main living area. She was still standing in the middle of the floor, up on two feet and surveying the cottage with a perplexed look on her face.
I grimaced. “I know it isn’t much.”
Aria squeaked enthusiastically. She scampered over to my feet and tugged on the hem of my dress. It took several seconds for me to realize she wanted me to follow her.
She corralled me into the front corner of the cottage, near the door, and I watched in confusion as the little elemental plopped herself in the center of the room and lowered her mousey head.
What is she doing? She looks deep in thought.
After nearly a minute, Aria stood on two paws, bracing herself as if she were about to be hit by a tidal wave. I cocked my head, confusion turning to panic as the wind picked up again. This time, it wasn’t just centered on me. The entire house was engulfed in the newly forming tornado.
“Uh, Aria?” I gulped. I know this place is a dump, but I need it in one piece. “What are you doi–”
I froze, my breath catching in my throat, as the dust, mold, and dirt from every surface in the house began to levitate.
Aria waved her little mouse paws like a dancer, using the wind to manipulate all the grime into one big, round ball.
Then, with a flick of her wrist, the ball sailed out one of the open windows and plummeted into a loose, ashy pile on the ground below.
I exhaled in disbelief, smiling as I swiped a finger across the floorboards. They were still old and warped, and could use a good polishing. But the tip of my finger came back clean. The thick, ever-choking layer of dust was gone.
“Wow,” I exclaimed. “That was amazing. Aria, you are amazing!”
The mouse squeaked in surprise. Like Fritzi and Mavro, she didn’t have eyes, but I could still sense the triumphant pride on her little windy face.
She scampered up to my feet, gesturing for me to pick her up.
I lifted her to eye level, and she lovingly nuzzled into my hand.
It occurred to me this may have been the first time anyone gave her such a compliment.
After all, when I first found her, she was merely a mouse in a kitchen cupboard looking for scraps.
In a world full of massive, powerful elementals, she was a tiny underdog.
Just like me.
“Thank you,” I patted her head, feeling like a mere thanks wasn’t enough. I made a mental note to fetch her more peanuts when I returned to the café on Tuesday.
I crouched down, lowering Aria to the floor, and settled myself back on the worn hardwood. It was still bare and uncomfortable, but at least it was clean. I could focus on getting a mattress tomorrow.
“I hope you sleep well,” I whispered to Aria as she sat down next to me.
Wait. Do elementals sleep?
Aria curled up into a tiny mouse ball near my waist, her nose touching her tail. She didn’t have eyes to close, but I could feel the wind making up her body slow down.
I guess they do sleep. Or at least go through some sort of dormant period.
“Good night, Aria.” I smiled up at the high-beamed ceiling as I closed my eyes. “Thanks for being my friend.”