ERON
SIX YEARS LATER…
I hit the forest floor with a bone-jarring thud, the taste of dirt and pine needles filling my mouth. Morning light dappled the ground through ancient trees—a sight I might've appreciated if I wasn't busy spitting out leaves.
"Your footwork remains atrocious," Leaf observed, not a silver hair out of place in his floor-length braid. "Eight years in Moonstone, and you still drop your left shoulder before you strike."
I rolled to my feet, brushing dirt from my jeans. "Maybe I'm doing it on purpose. Element of surprise."
"The only surprise," Roel materialized from behind a massive oak, "is that you continue believing we would fall for such an obvious feint."
The elven twins exchanged one of their telepathic glances that had annoyed me since childhood.
"Some people
