Page 2 of Whispers of the Elderoak

A few minutes later, the waitress arrived with her plate of steaming food, looking mildly inconvenienced by the extra glass she carried for Ava’s beer.

“Oh, you didn’t need to bring that. Thanks,” Ava said with a kind smile, trying to win her over.

“Mmm hmm,” the waitress murmured as she set her plate, glass and beer on the table and walked away.

Well, that was a bust,she thought, frustrated she had already irritated people.

Halfway through her meal, she was interrupted by a feminine voice as a woman close to her own age approached her table. “Ava?”

She had mousy brown hair with hazel eyes hiding behind a pair of tortoise shell glasses. She smiled, and her calming presence put Ava at ease.

“Yes?” Ava looked at her, pausing. “Um. I’m sorry but…” She regarded the woman standing before her. “Wait… are you…”

“Eleanor,” the woman finished with a nod, smiling warmly.

Ava gasped. “Oh my god! Eleanor!” She popped out of her seat and hugged her childhood friend. “I can’t believe it! It’s been—what? Like fifteen years?”

“Twenty,” she replied.

“Come, sit down. Do you want to eat with me?”

“I’d love to.” Eleanor took a seat across from Ava, adjusting her glasses. “I’m sorry about your grandpa. He was always so nice to me.”

“Thanks. I hadn’t seen him in years. It was kind of a shock when I got the call.”

The waitress came back around, and Eleanor ordered a chicken sandwich and iced tea before turning back to Ava. “I heard through the small-town grapevine that he left you the farm.”

“Yep.”

“Does that mean you live here now?” Eleanor’s voice was hopeful.

“Yeah.” Ava gave her a half smile. “It’s weird, isn’t it? I never thought I’d be back.”

“What about your mom?”

Ava fidgeted with her hair. “She… she died a few years ago.”

“Oh god. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Thanks. I don’t really like talking about it,” she added, before changing the subject. “So how areyou? What have you been up to?” She shifted in her seat as David Bowie’s voice sounded from the jukebox in the corner.

“Well, I’m the librarian now,” she explained as the waitress delivered her food. “I took over for my parents. They retired and moved to New York a few years ago.”

“That’s wonderful!” Ava took a sip of her beer. “I remember how much we used to love playing hide and seek in between the bookshelves. Being a librarian suits you.”

“Thanks,” Eleanor said, picking up a fry. “I had forgotten allabout that. And remember when your grandpa used to tell us those strange stories…” she trailed off.

Ava nodded. “I do.”

What they didn’t say was that the most memorable stories Ava’s grandfather used to tell happened outside of the library. The two of them would snuggle up under fuzzy blankets on the couch while Grandpa waved his hands and threw himself into his tales.

Tales of mystical realms with princesses and demons, orcs and goblins. A land ruled by the fae who could perform magic such as manipulate gravity or raise lava from the earth. While most of the stories fascinated her, there was one that had terrified her as a child. About a king, longing for power, who was tricked by a demon promising him great wealth. Because of his greed, he let the demon into their world under the guise he would be made emperor over all the kingdoms. But upon arrival, the demon killed the king and brought his demon queen and their armies into the magical realm, starting a great war that lasted over one hundred years.

“Ava?” Eleanor’s voice pulled her from her thoughts.

“Sorry.” She twirled a lock of hair around her finger. “I was thinking.”

Eleanor smiled as if remembering Ava often got distracted and lost in her thoughts, even as a child. A habit she still hadn’t rid herself of.

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