Vana Dey grasped the reed tightly in her hands and blew with all her strength. There was a hush and everyone stood without breathing until . . . there was a loud ‘pop’ and then they all broke the silence with a timely shout of merriment. For Vana to have blown the Sirrus Moondrop through a long grass reed was no mean feat and she knew that it was the great signal to her elders that she was ready.

She had longed for three cold cycles to be accepted into the Twilight Elvars enclave and it had just paid off. They were looking for a new initiate and Vana had persuaded her guardians that it was the only choice which mattered to her. They had tried to steer her towards an initiation with the Woodland Elves and the Water Diviners but she would not have it. The Forest Dwellers and Fire Dancers did not have any openings and the Grotto Alchemists were too strange for most guardians to consider. After much arguments and pouting and stormy moods, they capitulated and she began to train for the task.

The task of blowing the sirrus moondrop through a long grass reed was so difficult that only three initiates had achieved it in over one hundred and fifty years. The last one had been accepted over five decades earlier and so there was much to make merry about under the red moon that evening. The task of blowing the blue viscose liquid through a narrow tube was not the hardest part . . . the hardest part was acquiring the droplet that made it so difficult. The droplet had to be found first and then brought back to the glade where all the Elves stood waiting. Many an Elvar had stood trying to bring the drop into visible sight but had failed and most had forlornly joined one of the other enclaves. No Elvar had to join an enclave and many lived in the pure Streams of Being instead, without a focus or Illumination . . . as they called it. Generally, they cared for the fauna or created new species of plants and mushrooms or made beautiful colours for their new creations.

The cosmos was all around them and they knew how to draw upon it for anything that they desired to create and they were all skilled at manifesting beautiful creations. The Woodland Elves themselves, made sure that the trees with their majestic heights and canopies were treated with respect and any dwelling or corridor erected on the branches or forks of one, had to adhere to strict rules. One tree alone could house over one hundred Elves as they stood higher than any mountain range in existence. No Elvar could see the top of any of the majestic trees and it took a fairly nimble adult, half a morning to reach the midway point up a great tree. A number of the Elvar, through the rolling cosmic cycles, had climbed to the top of one of these megalithic giants and they all reported that the winds were so fierce that no one could live up so high. They said that the cold was so bitterly freezing that no clothing could protect them and the hardest part was that every star system seemed equally distant as to standing upon the earth itself. There seemed to be no benefit for anyone of them to live so high and thus a very long time ago, the rule for the highest Elvar dwellings was the seventh branch from the ground.

This height was not to be scoffed at, as the third branch was as high as a regular hilltop and took a huffing climb to reach it. Fortunately, the Elves had perfected the walkways and swing bridges that ascended upwards into the branches and across between each tree. These ageless constructions were made of fallen trees and the boards that they walked upon could hold their footsteps for over a millennium before they succumbed to wear and tear. But . . . they never needed to replace them as the skill of the Forest Dwellers was to enliven all that was made by the Elves and cast upon them the aura of eternal existence. Elves seemed to move towards being a Forest Dweller more than almost any other enclaves and there was much debate as to why this was so.

The Water Diviners held a position of authority and all water sources lay in their jurisdiction of ability. Waterfalls, ponds, streams, rivers and great causeways were influenced by the Diviners. Their colours and clarity, unique properties of healing, longevity and youthfulness were but a few of the capacities which the Diviners endowed within individual waters. (*) Most water sources were open to all the Elves except for the Dark Waters of Melancholy, the Boiling Waters of Anger and the Sinister Waters of Deceit. These waters were forbidden and Water Diviners guarded them fiercely.

The Fire Dancers had only a few in their enclave and they liked to play with the fire in the mountains as it spilled over and ran in rivers designed by the Elves. The lava flows created beautiful avenues wherever the Fire Dancers moved them and whole open landscapes were sculpted by these designs. The Grotto Alchemists were a strange and isolated enclave and worked with the metals found on the earth, in deep pocket-like chasms. The metals that they created with and fashioned intricate tree ornaments, bridges, ladders and vessels to hold liquids in, were Ornidium, Vascatluan, Tharsidium, Bronzelite and the rarest of them all . . . (*) Zecatluan.

The last of the enclaves is by no means the least and is on the contrary, the most elusive and frightening one . . . the Twilight Enclave. Known only for its hauntingly elusive focus of Illumination, this enclave worked not with anything found upon the Terra that they called their homeland. They worked with the purest substance that came straight from the stars and suns. The training of this Elvar initiate involved their deepest consciousness and focus, hours of discipline and solitude, and a contradictory attitude towards a basic elves’ lifestyle . . . which would bring the focus back to the glade and the droplet.

This droplet was not an essence born or created from any Terra substance. It was fashioned from several stars and the exposure to a certain sun, drifted into the tailwind of a passing comet and touched by one of the outer rings of a nearby black planet. All of these together … and in sequence, produced this single drop capable of being squeezed down a reed no larger than the smallest finger on an Elvar hand. One could argue that any blue droplet with a similar viscosity and density could have been used but that is not the case. The droplet in this initiation, once it has escaped from the reed with a customary pop, was collected and placed into a small mould made of resin. Captured within the centre of the mould, the liquid would last the entire life of the initiate and after a tiny hole was bored into the one end, it was strung around the neck of the One who called it. Again, it could have been any droplet of a similar configuration but this drop of cosmos enhanced essence would be used in countless trainings throughout the lifespan of the One who called it. If it were not created and processed through the elaborate measures described above, it would not be activated with its own vital power and the initiate would fail each and every learning and would be denied access to the enclave for their entire lifetime.

There was no cause for crookery and the one thing that the elves accepted as common law, was that no one tried to take short cuts or acted from a deceitful place of being. The resin mould itself would have been made carefully by the initiate and would have significance for that Elvar alone and the chances of mistaking the individual droplets was next to none.

***

“Brio Dun!” called a shrill voice from amongst the merry makers.

A tall lad with a smiley face ducked down and came up behind Vana and hid behind her skirts.

‘Brio . . . what have you done now?’ hissed Vana as she hid her mischievous smile. She pretended to move to the side, exposing Brio but he grabbed her skirts and nearly yanked her to the forest floor.

‘Vana! You know that she will have me running all through the midnight-blue-night, pouring that concoction from the Upper Waterfall, for everyone.’ He sounded exasperated and Vana took pity upon him. It was true that his Mage – Vilian Hue, a powerful Water Diviner – worked her initiates hard and Vana had come to Brio’s rescue many times before when Vilian was looking for him.

‘You do know that I am the first person that she is going to ask as to your whereabouts Brio?’ said Vana wryly, laughing inside. Brio groaned at the truth of what she said and he slipped away from his hiding spot behind Vana.

And it was just in time . . .

‘Vana Dey . . . have you seen that annoying youngster Brio?’ asked the Water Mage, leering into the young girl’s eyes. Her eerie watery eyes seemed to reflect pools of liquid turquoise and if Vana had not grown up around the Mage, she would have been half witless with fear, but instead, she answered,

‘He is nowhere near me Mage Vilian . . . perhaps he is with the other Water Diviners at the Waterfall . . . collecting this delicious concoction that you have divined?’Her sweet smile showed openly on her face and the Mage glared at her, suspecting trickery of some sort but as she looked around, she saw that Brio was nowhere near the cheeky girl, who had brought in a drop out of the blue yonder moments before.

This piece of knowledge made the old Mage a fraction cautious, as all mages knew that there was nothing more disturbing than a natural Twilight Mage trained in their arts for over three hundred cycles of the sun. Their very being made them untouchable and unreachable and most often, the advanced Twilights, were seldom seen amongst them. This evening, however, they were all in attendance and the midnight blue skies were about to light up and each and every Elvar knew that in their own lifetime, they may never witness this occasion again. For it was rare indeed that an initiate brought in a drop out of the blue and even rarer than that was that it was a female. Four hundred sun cycles had passed since a female had ventured forward to be considered for the opening into the enclave and she was now amongst them, hovering between the other Twilight Mages on the periphery of the gathering.

Shuga Rey stood silently, like a tall bamboo reed, watching the gatherers but out of the corner of her eye, she kept Vana and her essence in her field of sight. Her sight was not like those gathered but rather of an unusual and mystical manner and she could observe Vana’s thoughts and feelings as if they were her own. She saw Vana help Brio and how she spoke with the Water Mage, Vilian and how the young girl stood poised and unflustered by the throngs of singing and dancing Elves. Many Elves came to congratulate her and wish her well and most of them had a hidden look of pity on their face, as if they knew that she would lose her Elvar Self and she would become one of them. She was intrigued but there was a slight disconcerting murmur deep within her too.

Most did not understand why Vana chose the Twilight Enclave for it was known to change an Elvar to such a degree that their former selves were recognisable. Vana knew that each one of them would be feeling that way, as she had felt the same when one of her kin had chosen to take upon himself the Grotto Alchemist initiation. Orra Ben was the same moon cycle as herself and they had grown up together, but he had always had a fascination for the metals and alchemy and it was little surprise that he jumped at the chance when an opening appeared. He got it of course as metals were in his blood, but when he passed the initiation, Vana felt pity for him, just like these around her felt about her own choice.

Vana knew she was destined to try for the Twilight Enclave since she was barely able to hobble to the fourth branch of the Great Shepherd – a tree that dwarfed all those around it. The Great Shepherd, aptly known to each Elvar as, Vastalon, had no dwellings on its branches and but it did host the learning schools of each of the Enclaves. Situated upon its vast branches which reached across fields and rivers, hills and fountains, were platforms tightly woven by vines that were as old as the hills themselves. Ornately intertwined branches from the Great Shepherd flowed as banisters and railings and leaves grew everywhere as a testament to the life that supported the Elves way of living. Arches of living colour stood at junctions where branches crossed paths and each learning hall was crafted by great branches bent through time, forming colossal domes. The floors of these vastitudes of learning were intricately laid with filigreed Zecatluan, the rarest metal indeed. Between the intricate designs, gems and stones, pearls and meteorites shone and sparkled and specially formulated resins covered their fragility.

Each Elvar knew that to be accepted into an Enclave to learn, was a great achievement, if only for the fact that they would spend a great deal of their time within the hallowed halls of the Great Shepherd. Vastalon, the Great some referred to it, had a midnight magic which surrounded it and life flourished within its foliage. The cracks in its bark were so deep that they formed a part of the corridors of the Atheneum of Wisdom, where all the scribed formulas, records, tomes and chronicles of the Elves were kept. The trunk of Vastalon was so vast in its girth and thickness that the Atheneum Keeper’s – all one hundred and eight of them – could spend an entire cycle of the sun cataloguing each item and they would not see the end.

To walk the Jasmine Pathway up into Vastalon’s reaches, required an acceptable initiation with an enclave or an unfortunate field disturbance, which resulted in an injury or mishap. Within the lower branches – upon the fourth one to be exact – were the Restoration Pods where maladies and mishaps were treated by the Woodland Elves themselves. It was during one of these disturbances when she slipped and fell off a moss covered tree root, breaking her ankle, that she was taken up into the mystical reaches of Vastalon.

When Vana had been treated by the Woodland Elves and her wound healed, as she descended, she was passed by a Mage descending from the upper branches, where the Twilight Hall of learning was. He was engrossed in an inner magic which she did not understand but in front of him, held gently in the aura of his palms, was a miniature world, which hummed in a blue light. She stared enchanted by what she was witnessing and the Mage looked up and glared at her fleetingly before clapping his hands and the world disappeared. With an intense look of annoyance, he descended very fast towards the earth, leaving Vana perplexed with what she had seen and her imagination was captivated.

From birth, all Elves were encouraged to use their imagination and to bring that ability to fruition by manifesting small things at first. But as they matured, their abilities were directed towards more advanced tasks and responsibilities and they often created things out of thin air. From the very elements which surrounded them, the warmth of the sun, the moisture of the rain, the motion of the breeze and the texture of the rocks they drew upon the wisdom which inspired them most. It was these practices which forged their directions and the enclaves most suited to them individually. Those that chose not to join an enclave most often, accomplished a general ability in the elemental disciplines but did not find any strong pull towards any one in particular.

When Vana reached the forest floor, she made her way towards her guardian’s abode in the giant Espania tree nearby. Their abode was perched on the fifth elevation of branches and she made her way to the arch over their doorway. She nimbly walked along the flimsy walkways and greeted fellow Elves, whom she knew from their homes in the same tree. All walks of Elves lived together and there was little hierarchy involved in abode location. The only limitations placed upon any abode at all was with the Ancient Elders because of their reluctance to walk too far. They always lived in an abode that was on the first if not second elevation level of a tree and no one resented their preference. It was expected that the Ancients were given preference in many opportunities out of respect and deference to their longevity and wisdom.

The Espania tree was not the highest tree but it did have extraordinarily long horizontal branches and only Vastalon rivalled it. Her guardian’s abode was three doors from the trunk and a further five abodes were built after theirs. The last two abodes had the privilege of movement, as the wind picked up through the foliage and swayed the outer reaches of each branch. As Vana reached the doorway, she overheard her guardians discussing her future.

‘Reya . . . she is most inclined towards being a Forest Dweller and she has a natural ability with growing the fungal spores in the Fern Gully’s!’ declared Mira Sonn.

‘I disagree Mira, Vana does not like to stand in the Gully’s all day where she sees no sunlight. I have it on good advice that she is destined for the Fire Dancers. The Mage there told me that Vana moved a lava flow a few suns back and that she is a natural. We could do with another Fire Dancer!’ responded her guardian Reya Dew.

Her guardians, both kind and gentle had only her best interest at heart but Vana had never felt quite like she was meant for any of their suggestions, however she had had no other option until she found herself up on the fourth branch of Vastalon that very day. She felt that this was her opportunity to state her claim and preference and she knew that they would be opposed to it out of fear and uncertainty. There was never any certainty with the Twilight Enclave. She stepped in through the doorway woven by vines and decorated by delicate purple floral creepers, created by herself.

‘Reya . . . Mira . . .’ she said hesitatingly.

‘Oh Vana, I am so happy that you are home. We were discussing your advancement into an enclave and I was telling Reya that you would be best initiated into the Forest Dwellers,’ declared Mira before Reya could say a word. Vana knew how it was with her two guardians, and she knew that Mira would try to get her toe in the door before Reya did. Vana smiled and Reya caught the look on her face and his face dropped.

She flopped into her hammock, which hung from a smaller branch next to the outer woven wall and her one foot hung outside and barely brushed the floor. She was growing fast and lanky and she was close to needing a new hammock. ‘I want to be a Twilight Initiate!’ she stated without blinking an eye. She held their stunned gazes and Mira was the first to look away in dismay. Reya was the first to respond to her outrageous declaration.

‘That is out of the question Vana . . . you are not suited to the enclave . . . and do you have any idea how difficult it is to make that initiation?

Vana nodded and then she began to tell them about her encounter on the branch up in Vastalon when she was descending from her healing and before she could finish, Mira jumped in.

‘Vana! That is precisely why you cannot be a Twilight Initiate! They touch the edge of madness and it changes them. No Elvar should be poking around with the stars and cosmos and comets, it is so dangerous . . .’ her voice trailed off.

‘That is why I want to join them if they will have me,’ she responded, ‘I am tired of creating flowers and fragrances and playing with the elementals and I want to learn to make a world like that Mage did.’

‘. . . but the initiation is so difficult Vana . . .  it has been fifty sun cycles since the last one was accepted. What if you cannot harness the moondrop and what if you fail . . . another enclave may not accept you?’ reasoned Reya.

Vana knew that they had a point. Failure to be accepted into an enclave did not guarantee a place in another enclave, especially if the Mages knew that their enclave had not been the prime choice to begin with. But still . . . Vana’s heart would not be budged and as they discussed all the options of failure and her living her existence out without an enclave, she became more and more determined to succeed at her initiation. It took many suns of persuasion until her guardians accepted the plight of their ward and they no longer offered any counter argument regarding her choice.