Eliana Ariarose – The Halfling

Eliana is not your average seventeen-year-old teenager – she is a Halfling.  Her father the King of Grandelione and her mother a beautiful maiden from the mortal world met, fell in love and conceived a baby girl. Not all was sugar and roses though for Eliana’s mother who had been cursed with an evil so diabolical even the most proficient healers in the realm couldn’t save her.

Passing the evil on to Eliana through childbirth, who must now fight an invisible battle, made obvious through her return to the Faerie realm. In a battle of wits, stakes are high, in a world where nothing is what it seems and the pull of evil gains strength with each passing day.


Eliana watched as Caelian and Fin left the tavern and, turning to Poe, said, “Let’s find a quiet corner.”

The piano at the end of the room was not in attendance and the few tables around it were empty. Thankful for the dim lighting, she slipped into a chair with her back to the crowd. Farimdore had said that without a link it would be harder to see inside someone’s mind, but she’d met him. That would make it easier.

Resting her hands under her chin, she closed her eyes and cleared her mind using the exercises Farimdore had taught her. It wasn’t long before peace surrounded her and her mind spun toward an open window, flinging her into a dank room. It smelt of mould and she heard the echo of water dripping on rocks. She looked through eyes that weren’t her own and found herself staring at Aemon. She was inside Bonny’s head.

For the first time in a long time she felt alone, afraid and lost. She bit her bottom lip and limped up the slope, picking a direction where she could see better. As she walked she felt a thrumming below her feet. An echoing sound, distorted by the mountains around her, echoed among the rocks.

Still trying to gain her breath back she limped as fast as she could, trying to find cover. That sound. Where have I heard that sound?

Then it hit her. In the Glade of Forgetfulness.


With the sound echoing off the rock around her she didn’t know the direction it came from. It could be anywhere. These folded mountain spaces of bare rock felt like it’s natural hunting ground. The sound of it’s enormous wingbeats would work for it, to echo around and confuse its prey.




Melissa Coleman View All →

I’ve always been passionate about storytelling and impressed by the influence it has on people and the decisions they make in life. I love engaging with the projects I work on, diving headfirst into the research, investigation, and production of stories and articles I feel are worth writing about.

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