Chatter

Vanessa 1919

The second my feet touch the grass, I feel the magic reach out to me. 

As a dragon, I feel the delicate threads of magic with ease. The elven blood in me is far more attuned to the energy of nature. 

"Hello," I whisper to one of the trees as I get closer. "How are you today?"

Trees don't speak as we do. Their language is something other races have forgotten how to understand. Even dragons aren't capable of it without terrible headaches. A fae's mind is shaped differently for that reason. We can hear the symphony without damaging ourselves, but, unfortunately, it also causes madness in some of us when we're away from nature for too long.

It's worse for pure elves. They can't be away from the trees for more than a day.

The condition is some evolutionary circumstance between us and the hum of nature, a guarantee that the wild never vanishes.

As long as elves and the fae exist, the wild will always survive, and in exchange, we share in the abundance of raw energy.

Every night we come out here. To the trees, my family planted a century before, and dance, sing, and care for them. 

Even though vampires and dragons don't have similar needs, everyone comes out with us. They still reap the benefits. It strengthens their magic and eases their weaknesses. 

I can smell blood in the air, and when I look around, I see several of the covens with crystal glasses full of red liquid. I've never needed to drink it as they did. My vampiric traits are dormant for the most part, though I enjoy my meat on the rarer side.

Vampires eat food and can drink liquids like everyone else. That isn't the need they have for blood. It's the life force inside it that's craved. A willing person is always better, and I've heard the experience can be pleasant.

I've never tried it, and I doubt my fathers would allow it anyway. It's an intimate thing to feed on someone. It requires trust between the feeder and their prey, knowledge of how to do it without causing too much pain, and acceptance of the gift.

Maybe my family thought I wasn't old enough to understand those things.

The sound of music reaches my ears, and I smile. No one else hears it, at least not in the way I can.

"Are they speaking to you?" Charlene comes up beside me with a grin. "You always get that far-off look when you're listening."

"They're chatty tonight," I smile, placing my hand on the trunk of an oak. "The wind spoke."

"Really? What did the wind tell your trees?" It's odd to see Charlene with her blood-red hair and crystal blue eyes. She looks so different when she's like this. 

The human world saw her as a dark-skinned woman. That didn't afford her any luxuries or respect from anyone. Charlene had to oblige by Jim Crow, just like anyone else, and it frustrated me more than it did her. She didn't care about the laws and shrugged them off as stupid.

I once asked her if it bothered her to serve under a white family since she was black. Charlene laughed so hard she nearly cried. Then she explained how she'd worked under many families of all races, color and I was too small to think such big thoughts.

In the supernatural world, Charlene's respected as a great warrior, a war hero, and a wealthy female who could have her pick of mates, but she stayed alone.

Was Charlene waiting for her soulmate?

I was waiting for mine, and I could hear the very faint whispers of their soul reaching out to me. The way elves know that their mates are alive. We can sense our soulmates from across the world, a dragon feels them through sight, smell and touch, but they need to be in proximity.

It's uncommon to hear your mate at my age, but mal'e thinks it's because my bond is more forceful than most. 

Wouldn't that be wonderful? Someone the universe made just for me? A being who understood and loved me as much as my parents loved each other?

Gods, it made me wish I were a werewolf. They had the gift of falling in love with their mates at first sight. When I met mine, we'd have to get to know each other for a while before we got that far.

Only....

What if my mate took one look and thought I wasn't worth their time?

"What's the matter?" Charlene notices my expression.

"Nothing," I mutter, walking a little faster.

If I told her the truth, she'd remind me I wasn't even fifty and that I had plenty of time to find my soulmate, and if they rejected me, then they weren't worth my time.

"There you are," My mal'e grins, beckoning me over. "I've missed you."

"I was only gone a few days," I laughed, hugging her tightly.

"And I noticed every second without you," she sighs. "You'll have to move into a house beside us when you grow up. I don't know what I'll do if you go."

"Have another baby?" I tease. 

"Starlight is right," My dade walks over. "And if your mother had her way, all ten of you would live with us. Forever."

"What's wrong with that?" She protests with a scowl. "I miss my children. I want to see them every day."

"It's not like they don't come to visit almost every month," Dade rolls his eyes with a grin. "They might as well live here, honestly."

"Then you should have them move in," My mal'e pouts. 

"It's a vampire thing," my brother comments with a smirk. "The whole nest thing."

"Vampires can be loners," My mal'e protests. "Many are. We aren't."

"Where's daddy?" I laugh, noticing he isn't anywhere I can see him.

"Communing with the old man," My dade sighs. "You two go. We'll be here."

Garrett and I ran from the group to the grove of trees. The tree we nicknamed the 'old man' was the first tree my family planted, and he was skittish around large crowds. Convinced someone would chop him for timber.

On the way, I greet all the trees, noticing that they're all nervously chattering away. Trees aren't usually this talkative, and the sounds aren't happy.

"What is it?" I ask one, but she's having a hard time explaining.

As I said, tree language is complicated.

"They're all talking at once," Garrett grumbles. "I can't understand them."

"They're afraid," I whisper. "Something's scaring everyone."

Yes, trees feel fear just like we do.

"Let's find father," Garrett suggests. "He knows how to calm them down."

With a nod, I follow my older brother to the center of our small forest. In a few more years, It would be thick enough to invite other races to live here. Maybe even a werewolf pack.

The 'old man' stood taller than any other tree, he was the father and grandfather of most of the forest here, and his roots sank deep into the earth.

When we reached them, my daddy had his palms against the 'old man's' trunk, a worried scowl on his delicate features.

"Daddy?" I wouldn't usually bother him, but something was wrong. 

My father's worry doesn't go away when he looks up at me. On the contrary, it seems to be worse.

"Father?" Garrett scowls, looking at the old tree. "What did he tell you?"

"Nothing," He mutters. "I couldn't understand him."

Garrett and I share an anxious look. That wasn't possible, my father was an elven prince, and his connection to the forest was unmatched.

Reaching my hand out, I place it on the bark and open my mind to the tree I've known since I was born. 

Immediately I feel his wordless voice touch me.

"They're coming for you," He tells me urgently. "They are coming for you."

"Who?" I demand.

"Man."