An elf is not supposed to love a wizard. Everyone knows that. They knew that. So, of course, the village had to do something to stop them.
They met one night on Percy’s Peak, that jagged point on the mountain behind the village. After trekking through the dense forest, with its tall evergreen trees, she emerged on the edge of the rock to stare into the night sky. The darkness surrounded her like a blanket, while the cool breeze made her shiver. Only the village below, with its spotted fire pits here and there, and the bright moon and sparkling stars above, reflected light in her eyes.
Her pointed ears, however, heard movement in the brush behind her. Her heart beat terribly fast in her chest until he appeared. Based on his cloak, she knew immediately that he was a wizard. “Wizards are different, dangerous,” her parents had told her. And indeed many were, but so were many elves.
She turned to face him, but glanced to the side for a way to escape, to dart down the cliff’s ridge, perhaps.
“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know anyone else would be here. Are you waiting for the meteor shower, too?”
Fascinated by the thought of seeing something so glorious, she stayed. They chatted about elf life, her protective parents and silly brothers, her responsibilities of taking care of the village garden, and the strangeness of wizards. He wasn’t offended. They even laughed about the pointy hats that so many wizards wear. “When I’m old and they force me to wear a hat, I’m going to put the moon and stars on it,” he chuckled, only half joking. His kindness and handsomeness charmed her.
Then, the night sky lit up with fireballs. Long streaks of white flashed across the heavens. She gasped at the beauty and unconsciously grabbed his hand. They both glanced down at their interlocked fingers and neither of them let go.
Over the next few months, as they secretly met at Percy’s Peak, first under the protective cover of night and later under the bright yellow sun, she felt as if Spring flowers budded all around her, as if chirping birds serenaded her good fortune, especially when tingles ran down her body after they kissed by a shiny waterfall one afternoon, as if winter would never come.
But, winter always comes. One of her brothers accidently caught them together. Out of concern, he told. The village erupted with fear and loathing. Everyone berated her and threatened to hurt him, given that elves are mighty hunters.
Sneaking out one last time, they met at the waterfall again and she warned him of the ugly villagers. Picking up a stick, she broke it in half. She gave him one half and she kept the other half, saying, “We can’t see each other anymore.”
By the next blue moon, however, when wizard power is particularly strong, he couldn’t stand being away from her any longer. He strode right into the center of the village, near the wishing well. He called for her, making elves take notice and surround him. “Leave,” they yelled. He called louder and more passionately, until every elf was there and none too happy. “Leave or die,” they yelled. He did not move. The males aimed their bows and sharp arrows at him.
She pushed through the crowd, screaming out of fear and love for him. “Please, please, let him go.”
Standing next to him, shaking, he held her hand and said to her, “I am the moon and you are my north star. We belong together in the same sky.”
Nonetheless, the villagers pulled their bows back and he conjured up a fireball in his other hand. “No,” she shrieked and jumped in front of him right as an arrow whizzed through the air and split her heart in two. Blood seeped out of her chest and her breath became shortened. Half of a stick fell out of her hand onto the ground.
“No,” he yelled and formed an energy shield around the two of them, as more arrows flew in their direction. With his strength, he picked up her half-stick, lifted her into his arms, and pushed his way through the villagers. “Stay back,” he shouted until he was outside the village.
Only her parents followed the two of them. He went straight to a powerful healer, knowing that she would not make it through the night. Her parents and he watched as the healer hurried, mixed potions, extracted the arrow, stopped the bleeding, and dabbed medicine, but nothing worked. He heart could no longer beat.
He held the two half-sticks, one in his left hand and one in his right hand, as his tears of sorrow dropped on them. Under that blue moon, the two half-sticks suddenly glistened from the wetness. They glowed a deep green and began to hum a soothing sound. But, he could not put the sticks back together, as hard as he tried. Her parents grabbed her half-stick and fit it together with his half-stick, as he held it. A bright light, brighter than a comet, burst outward. The break in the stick solidified, making it new and whole again.
She gasped for air and sat up, placing one hand on her heart. Seeing him, she reached her hand out to him. There was no wound anymore. Her heart was whole again, too. He took her hand and held her close, crying.
Her parents hugged them, and the next day mourned her death in front of the villagers, while secretly helping the elf and her wizard begin a new life together in a new land.