With the small cart filled with fresh potions, and Bluebell the Mule ready to pull it, Creek and Fable were off into the Elven village of Darnassea. Settled in a large clearing of Lastmoore forest, The town itself appeared unattractive with its gray rooftops, chiseled stone walls and un-maintained gardens, Darnassea has a homey atmosphere.

The village had a breaking economy, which is mainly supported by trade, cooking and crafting. With these small setbacks, the town's biggest strengths were strong magicians and sustainable hunting. However, Darnassea lacked people with medical skills. So it was a big deal when a Guardian of Herbs and Healing had chosen Fable to be a Keeper. She was more or less infamous for that, some praising her good fortune, and others wondering if she'd turn out like the Dark Sorcerer that ended the Golden Era. While others still thought Fable was unfit to be a Keeper, even if it wasn't their decision to make.

Despite its strengths and weaknesses, Darnassea's future is mostly unforeseen. Things were up in the air for the little town, and the council were trying their best to help the elven village thrive, but their choices seemed to hinder more than help most times.

The clopping of Bluebell's hooves on the stone streets announced their arrival, Fable’s ears drooping anxiously as they went and she noticed a few faces turn their way. She knew the villagers welcomed her, though she still had the sense that she had to prove herself to them in some way. And while becoming a Keeper was prestigious, she felt the villagers were waiting to see if she deserved the title. She took a slow breath and let Bluebell trot on towards her little shop.

"Hey, Don't mind them." Creek told her, giving a nudge. "You'd probably be the villages best doctor under Ashling's teachings."

"I just wanted to be a potion maker." Fable answered. "Not a doctor. You know I can't stand the sight of blood... I can barely handle injuries."

"But you're okay with illness." Creek answered.

"just the common stuff..." Fable answered. "Like Phoenix Fever or the cold. Nothing major like Bog Blight or Gut Rot."

"You'll get there, that's the important thing." Creek told her encouragingly. "You shouldn't doubt yourself with magic. Isn't that the base of it? Faith and Trust?"

Fable chuckled. "I think you're mixing that with children’s story." She told him.

Creek grinned back. "Perhaps. But maybe there's truth in it."

"I kinda doubt that." Fable told him as they reached her apothecary, lovingly called the Abracadabra Apothecary. She liked the ancient word of transmutation for the shop, seeing as she turned herbs into useful teas, tinctures, balms, and potions for every use. Heck she used her extras on herself when she could spare it. They moved Bluebell around to the back and started unloading as the mule drank some water.

The inside of the shop would tickle ones nose with the scent of mixing herbs. There were jars of dried herbs for other potion makers, a small window garden of fresh, if fairly common, herbs, as well as an array of many other completed teas and whatnots. Fable loved the Abracadabra, and she even made a little tea serving nook in the corner with a few books she couldn't fit at home for people to stop and enjoy while sampling teas.

"Go ahead and turn the open sign would ya?" Fable asked. "We're in for a busy day! Will you be helping out?"

"Wish I could, but I'm helping the smiths in the forge." Creek answered. "They're finishing up a batch of Silver broaches that need to set out today."

Fable smiled. "No problem, I should be able to handle things." She said, having a feeling her Apothecary wouldn't be the only stop on peoples minds for today. "How about for the Moon Rise bonfire?"

"You bet! See you there!" Creek answered as he stepped out of the front door. the bell above it chiming a silvery ring as he left, and he flipped the open sign for Fable as he went.

Fable watched him go, taking a slow breath. She gave her hands a clap before donning her green apron, twisted her hair back and slipped her wand into her hair to keep it up. "Okay. Lets begin." She told herself as she got a pot of hot water boiling for sample teas.

~

It turned out to be a rather busy day at the Abracadabra. Elves, dwarves, and even a couple other satyrs had stopped in for the Lunar Sigh potions as well as other little odds and ends for their own uses. Fable had made good coin with the profits and once the sun began to descend, she closed up shop and set out for some treats of her own. Darnassea was already bustling! Some elven children were playing with little paper dragons by using magic to make them fly around and land on various things and friends. And most of the hunters and butchers were serving honey glazed venison over dragon flame, provided by their Hearth Drakes. These colorful creatures were like a cousin to the Fox Drakes, but they weren't guardians. They were more companions. Some people used them for glass making, others for cooking delectables. The biggest difference was that while Hearth Drakes could breathe fire, most Fox Drakes couldn't. That is, unless they were a guardian of fire.

Fable smiled as she walked, eventually purchasing a sugar glazed apple with toffee bits. She held the basket of the candied fruit as she walked down the street, the light around her turning golden as she walked in the sunset. The Moon Rise bonfire would be soon, and she looked around for Creek as she moved to the town square. That is, until she felt an unwelcome presence behind her. 

Fable pressed her lips together and groaned.

"Oh, I thought you were staying in your cottage." Came the voice she dreaded to hear.

Fable turned, putting on a friendly smile. At least as friendly as she could muster. "Of course not Lark. I'd never miss out on this."

Lark Starscribe, the sweetheart of Darnassea and daughter of one of the council members, was gifted in magic and its uses, and she was respected for these details. In fact of all people that had the possibility to earn the favor of a Fox Drake, it would have been her. So when Ashling had chosen a Nameless Elf, someone whose family hadn't earned a Surname for their part in the village, was astounding. The Starscribe Family were in a long line of Star Gazers, able to see changes in the future by watching the stars. After the first Starscribe had proven his skills of Foresight among the Stars and became a council member, he was given a Surname.

Lark was a lovely elf, with hair of rich red wine and eyes of silver starlight, she had potential to be a powerful sorceress. Beside her was her friend, Juniper. She was attractive with raven hair and deep purple eyes, and she was skilled in divination magic. Her elf runes were never far from her hand for the chance to read someone's future. The worst part though, was that compared to them, Fable seemed like she should be working in the back of a bakery instead of running her own Apothecary.

Lark gazed at Fable, her small basket of goods, and her simple clothes in a quick but thorough assessment. Fable tried to ignore the fact that there was a stain on the bottom hem of her shirt where a potion splashed on her earlier that day, but she knew daughter of the Water Council Member had already taken notice and judged it. "Where's Lady Ashling?" Lark asked.

"She's... with her clan." Fable answered. She knew Creek wasn't comfortable with his intuitive feelings yet, and she didn't want to draw attention to him.

"Oh, has she grown bored of the little Potion Maker?" Lark asked, her voice so sticky with false honey that it made Fable's cheeks turn rosy both annoyance and discomfort.

"Of course not." Fable answered, trying to keep her own temper in check. "but I don't keep her on a leash. She comes and goes as she wishes, and I'm certain the clan has their own traditions. Now, I would stay, but I'm meeting Creek for the Bonfire."

She started to turn away when she heard the clickity-clack of elf runes being shuffled. She glanced back to see Juniper open her palm and look at the runes in her hands. Juniper hummed. "The Moon and the Scythe." She said, her voice quiet but in a tone that always made one's heart want to pause in anticipation. "Sudden and long term change is coming. With secrets and hidden agendas abound." She lifted her purple eyes to Fable. "As well as danger. What's been happening Fable?"

Fable gulped. "I, honestly couldn't tell you." She said. "I'm just here for the festivities. You know, the Bonfire and all?"

She stepped back from them, her quiet nature taking over before she bumped into someone behind her. She turned and felt a wave of relief wash over her as she saw Thrush. The tall elf raised an eyebrow at the two girls and folded his large arms. "A Bonfire we should all be heading to. Especially you, Lady Lark. Aren't you supposed to be standing with your father on the stand?"

Lark pressed her lips together but nodded. "I am. But I couldn't help but say hello to Fable." She gave a smile to Fable. "Light in your dark." She said, the common way one elf bade fair well. And with a flurry of silks, the two were striding away.

Fable sighed and smiled at Thrush. "Thank you." She said.

"No need to thank." Thrush said. "Those two seem to have let their families reputations get to their heads. Come on, you mentioned Creek was meeting you?"

Fable nodded and she followed Thrush. The Potions Master was tall with earthy skin and sky blue eyes. While he wasn't built like a Blacksmith as most people think he would be by description, Thrush was well toned and tall, pointed ears holding back long dark dreadlocks of hair that wasn't pulled back into a half ponytail. He was Fable's first teacher when she started seeking her path. It was through working with him that eventually lead to her forming a bond with Ashling.

"Don't let those two get to you." Thrush informed her. "Everyone should know the lesson of 'you don't deserve everything,'"

"But be glad for the blessings you have." Fable finished. "True, but... it bothers me that it bothers them so much. About, me becoming a Keeper. We all thought only the Surnamed would be considered as Keepers."

"Well, Magic is all about change and cycles." Thrush answered. "Perhaps that needs to be re-taught."

Fable smiled and gave a small nod. She could agree to that.

Soon enough The two reached the square, a large bonfire had been prepared with oak and various herbs that brought luck and prosperity. All around the square were flags and small venders and tents for various festival services like skin painting with patterns that made one look like their skin was stained glass, fortune telling, and a couple of small food venders. Fable instantly Fable spotted Creek. The carrot top was bouncing and waving to get her attention, getting a few looks thrown at him from passing elves and other patrons to the festival. After bidding Thrush a hurried goodbye, Fable rushed to Creek's side.

"What took ya?" He asked.

"Couldn't forget your sweet tooth." Fable teased as she offered him some of her sugar apple. Creek grinned at her and accepted a slice. "Your tardiness is forgiven." He said as he crunched into it.

The crowd hushed as the council appeared behind the Bonfire, all five wearing a robe colored for an Element. Sapphire for water, bronze for Earth, gold for Fire, Amethyst for air, and white for Soul. The politics for elves are unique, but Fable always found them boring. She just knew that they worked like four Mayors and a head Mayor. The head or the Soul Member, would then meet with other Soul Members under their head, the Elven King. Under the Elven King were five villages; Darnassea, the Earth Village. Hollowport, the Water Village. Tirianae, the Fire village. Erast, the Air Village. And Goldenleaf, the Capital and the Soul Village. It was always a big to do when the Soul Member went to Goldenleaf to speak with the High Council.

Behind the Water Member was Lark. Since water was closely related to the moon and stars, the Starscribes had always been Water members of the council. Lark gazed at Fable, and Fable quickly looked away as movement from another member caught her attention.

Forest, the Soul Member of Darnassea, raised his hands, and the village fell silent.

"Welcome, my friends and neighbors," He greeted. "And I bid you all a Happy Full Moon Festival. As the Moon reflects the suns light in the darkest hours of night, may our support and kindness be reflected back to each other in this time. May what visions the Moon may bring us tonight be beneficial to further better our crafts, our relationships, and our paths. With this blessing, We light the fire that reminds us of the passions that burns within us all!"

With that, he, and the other four members all held up their hands and summoned a small flame, each holding a different hue that matched their stations. Together they laid the flames in the bonfire, catching in a radiant blaze of blues, bronze, gold, purples and whites. The elves cheered and raised hands to the air, some starting to dance as music began to play as the flames of the bonfire leaped skyward with trailing sparks.

Fable applauded as the fire leaped to life and the elves, satyrs and other travelers starting dancing to bard songs. She smiled as she watched them, finding they reflected the dancing flames in the bonfire; each different, but joined in beautiful motion. She shifted on her feet a little, admiring the dance, but unsure how to join in. She was still seen as an outsider after all, and none of the elves had offered their hand for her to join. 

Creek smiled at the elves dance before looking at Fable. She was watching as the festivities, her thoughts elsewhere for the moment.Though he’d known Fable long enough to see she was overthinking. Seeing as their treat was eaten, he took her by the hands and pulled her towards the dancing circle.

"Wha-Creek!" She started, but Creek only laughed as they were pulled into the joyful dancing. Fable rolled her eyes and laughed, but danced along with Creek, deciding to forget about Lark, about being a keeper, about her expectations in the village, and about politics. It was the Full Moon Festival, a night of fun and celebration of friends and for dreams of what lay ahead. Tonight was for fun, and she let it be that way.